Hyrak slowly poured the dark wine in the glass, watching the liquid fill it. He had never been fond of Rydel. He always thought of him as an outlaw. If it hadn’t been for the Scroll, he would never have given him the task. He took a swig and gazed at the glass as if noticing it for the first time. That pathetic bastard, he thought. He would let his people die over that puny woman. Rydel was blind. She was the cure, the Scroll said so . . . The Svix was within his reach.

The woman meant nothing to Hyrak. She was not one of his tribe. She wasn’t even Klai. She was only a means to the cure. Sacrificing her was for the greater good. He would make sure Rydel was punished for objecting to his plan. Hyrak held the glass so tight that it cracked and shattered to pieces. He absently wiped the blood and shards off his hands. Then, pressing the comm button, at his wrist, he called the doctor at the hospital.

“Make the extraction first thing tomorrow,” Hyrak said, a sinister smile curling his lips.

“Sir, I need to run some tests on the subject before I can proceed with the procedure. It will take a few days. I can’t ignore it” said the doctor.

“Go ahead. But you must deliver. Three days. No more excuses.” Hyrak's voice was so cold that it would have made any living soul shudder.

***

The building that used to be a hospital and medical facility was in ruins. Tara clung to Rydel’s arm as they hurried inside. The guard guiding them to the doctor’s office led them through the doors to another corridor. Screams shattered the place as they crossed rooms full of people. Men, women, and children, locked up.

“What’s going on?” Rydel asked the guard.

“Sir, this is where they keep stage 4 patients. The Chief wants them here till they are cured. They would die anyway when the virus reaches stage 5.”

“The doctor is not giving them the pills to slow down the disease?”

“I don’t know, sir. From what I’ve heard, they don’t seem to be working anymore,” he said as they came to another corner and entered the elevators.

Rydel felt sick, his stomach knotting as the elevator took them to another floor. He would talk to the doctor, he decided. They walked down another hallway. Rydel held Tara’s hand as they stepped out onto the hallway. The Guard took them down the end of the hall and swiped his hand in front of the scanner. The metal doors opened and they walked inside.

It was a semi-circular room with white walls and floors. Bright lights hurt their eyes momentarily. Tara blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the light. The guard stood to watch by the door.

Doctor Jaydel came toward them wearing white overalls and gloves. He was a pleasant-looking man, but at the moment it seemed he hadn’t slept in days. He looked harassed – nervous, even. “Oh, you must be Rydel. And this is the woman?” he asked, gesturing toward Tara. He stared at her for a little while longer than necessary.

“Doctor, what’s going on?” Rydel asked, rather irritated by the pleasantries. “I want to know everything,” he said.

“Um . . . Well, where do I start? When we heard the Chief had sent you to find the cure, the Svix, that is, we had hope. But soon after you left, things got worse.” He paused, taking a deep breath and wringing his hands. “This virus is mutating. It’s spreading faster than before. Our drugs have started failing . . . There is no way but to get the cure. Or we all die.”

“Listen to me, Jaydel. You will only make the necessary scans and check her health. I will get you the other Svix soon. As many as you want. We can’t separate her from the symbiont. It will kill her.”

“Okay, alright. Let me see her,” he said. “Please, lie down here and I will take a blood sample.”

Tara glanced at Rydel and he nodded. She walked timidly toward the bed and sat down. “Just relax and lie on your back, please. What happened to her face?”

As Tara lay back, a chill ran down her spine. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she had a feeling something wasn’t right.

“She was in an accident,” Rydel lied. “Can you fix it?”

“Let me see,” Jaydel said, leaning over her.

Tara hesitated and glanced at Rydel who nodded again. She took off her scarf that was tightly wrapped around her head and side of the face. He looked at the scars, unflinching, as if he was examining a new species of fish. “Acid burns . . . third degree.”

“Reconstruct her face, doc,” Rydel said anxiously.

“I could, but that won’t be necessary,” Jaydel said as he glanced back at the guard near the door. And then turned around to tap commands on the small panel he took from near the bed.

“Why . . . ?” Rydel frowned, not understanding him.

Suddenly, metal-like straps emerged from the side of the bed and pinned Tara’s arms and legs down.

“What are you . . . ?” Rydel broke off as the guard took him from behind by surprise. “Let me go!” Rydel roared through clenched teeth. Then, it hit him.

“Sir, you are under arrest for hindering the Chief’s plan to find the cure,” the guard said.

“W - what’s happening?” Tara cried, panicked as she met Rydel’s gaze. For the first time, she saw fear flit across his icy eyes.

“Dr. Jaydel! What’s going on?” Rydel yelled, struggling to get out of the guard’s hold. His fear was now replaced by rage.

“I’m sorry, Rydel . . . ” he heard Jaydel say, his back still to him. He saw the fear in Tara’s big eyes as she struggled to get free. Tara looked up at the doctor.

“It’s the Chief’s orders. He wants me to make the extraction as soon as possible.” He was looking at her with a strange look . . . as if he pitied her. As if she were some special specimen to be studied – one he was about to lose. She winced and pulled on the restraints. They were made from some kind of metal, and they didn’t budge.

“NO! NOOOOOOO!!!” Rydel bellowed. His heart ripped apart, seeing her like that. Tears stung his eyes and he blinked them away. He shouldn’t have brought her here. It was a mistake.

And to Tara’s horror, the guard stabbed something at Rydel’s neck, injecting some fluid. He stiffened for a few seconds, and then his head fell on his shoulders, his body collapsing to the floor, unconscious. “No! Rydel!” she screamed. She glanced toward the doctor. “P - please . . . don’t hurt him!” she pleaded, tears streaming through her eyes. He remained quiet as death as he injected the sedative into her neck.

Another Klai guard came through the doors and both of them picked Rydel up and took him away. Tara’s breathing slowed as the voices around her muddled and a strange white haze spread in the room, dragging her into darkness as she passed out.

***

The voices in his head were too loud. He stumbled through the dark, trying to look for the light, but he was being restrained. The noise hurt his head. He wished somebody would make it stop.

A bout of coughing jolted him awake. It was dark. The room had only a small sliver of light coming in from the shaft in the ceiling. Something metallic and salty filled his mouth. He coughed again, spitting out his own dark blue blood. He inhaled sharply, and the stench that assailed his nose made him gag once more. And then the pain set in. His body screamed from the wounds inflicted on him in torture. Burning pain seared the side of his neck. Blood slowly dripped from the deep gash on the side of his chest.

Ignoring the throbbing headache, he tried moving. He found his hands were bound in shackles, chained to the wall. He pulled on the restraints and winced. Searing pain shot up his arms. His breathing became shallow as he tried not to lose consciousness. He shivered from the cold.

Tara’s face flashed across his mind, her beautiful eyes full of fear. Pain shot through his chest. This time, it was deeper. More painful . . . 

No, no, no! He screamed internally as sobs shook him. He let the tears flow. He had to get to her now or else they would kill her. The vision he had back on the ship flitted through his mind and he groaned. No! He had to stop this madness. He pulled on the restraints again and pain shot up his arms. His wrists were bleeding.

He had to be in an underground torture cell at the Grim Fort. It was where they imprisoned criminals. How long he had been in there, he couldn’t know. The last thing he remembered was that Hyrak’s guard had been using his dagger to inflict torture on his body, making precise cuts. He would punch him in the face in between while wearing a spiked gauntlet. Then he had branded him. Rydel had soon passed out, unable to bear the pain.

Rydel gritted his teeth as the memory of branding came tearing back through his mind. The mark on his neck still burned terribly. The branding was done with an ancient wand that could only be wielded by a mage. And Hyrak’s chief guard had marked him with the wand. Once branded, it could not be undone. The wand’s magic was an ancient dark art, rarely practiced now. And only a few mages had the knowledge.

Rydel cursed under his breath. He was dying. He closed his eyes and wished he had never brought her here. She had trusted him, and he had become the death of her. He had brought her to a different kind of hell. Guilt gnawed at his heart. He had failed her. If she died, he would never forgive himself. He couldn’t survive without her. He must stay alive for her. He couldn’t leave her alone. She needed him!

The last sliver of light coming in through the narrow shaft in the ceiling dimmed. Soon, darkness fell, and along with it came despair. He knew there was no way to end this curse. Even if he somehow made it out of there, he would eventually die.

Nobody came at night. The poison from the branding slowly seeped into his blood. It would be a slow death. And all he could think of was Tara. Her name was on his lips like a constant prayer . . . Tara, Tara, Tara.