Chapter 15 - The Bargain and the Blade
1208 Words
"So, where were we?" Daghan asked.
Aksanaa was locked in the arms of the giant. She kicked and fought to free herself, but it was like struggling against iron shackles. His grip didn’t falter, no matter how hard she tried. Finally, when her strength waned, Daghan stepped closer. He brought his face right before hers.
"Are you ready to talk now?"
"Talk about what?" Aksanaa snapped, still writhing.
"Garrad Dum. What do you know about it?"
"Nothing! I fell from it into this world. That’s all. I haven’t been near it since."
"Do you know where it is?"
"Yeah. Why are you asking?"
Daghan went silent for a moment, then began pacing back and forth.
"I want you to take me there."
"To Garrad Dum?"
"Yes."
Aksanaa shook her head in horror.
"Not in a million years. I won’t go near that place."
"Why not?"
"Because it’s cursed! Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl. Passing through that gate was the most disturbing thing I’ve ever endured. It felt like dying—like thousands of needles stabbing into your flesh, tearing you apart and stitching you back together. But you never come back the same."
"But you're still here. So it couldn't have been that bad."
"It was. And nothing—nothing—could make me do it again."
"Nothing?" Daghan tapped his full lips with a finger, thoughtful. Aksanaa could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes.
“Not even the lives of the rebellion prisoners?”
Aksanaa’s eyes widened.
“Got your attention now, haven’t I?” Daghan smirked.
“I have no connection to the rebellion,” Aksanaa muttered, her gaze darting away from his.
She knew too well what happened to those accused of rebellion—prison, torture, sometimes worse. Even the slightest suspicion could be enough to disappear. She had to deny any link.
Still, he had struck a nerve.
His stare bore into her like he was reading the truth between her words. Then he gave a slow, knowing nod, lips curled in smug amusement.
“Is that so? A shame. I had a good deal in mind.”
“And what is it?” she asked, the question escaping her lips before she could stop it.
She had heard the stories—men and women imprisoned for nothing more than a hushed conversation, a glance, a rumor. Even children. Entire families torn apart under the weight of suspicion.
"We have plenty in the dungeons—some directly involved, others merely related. I might not be able to free them all, but I could help those with questionable ties."
"Not good enough," Aksanaa snapped.
“You drive a hard bargain,” Daghan said, tilting his head slightly, his tone light but edged with mockery.
He flicked a glance at Grön.
The half-giant responded without a word, tightening his grip—just enough to make Aksanaa feel the threat in his massive arms.
She winced, her breath catching in protest, but she bit down the sound. She hated how easily they could make her feel powerless.
But Daghan shook his head—just once, subtle.
Grön understood immediately and eased the pressure, his grip no longer bruising, but the warning still lingered in the way he held her—firm, unyielding.
Then Daghan turned back to her, voice smooth again.
“Fine. Gold. Enough to keep your little rebellion fed. And I’ll release those questionable prisoners as well.”
She remained silent.
"Still not enough?"
Daghan’s voice dropped lower, darker.
“Alright, one last offer. I could end your life here and now for refusing me…”
Grön’s arms constricted before the sentence even finished—slow, deliberate, like a vice tightening around her ribs.
Aksanaa gasped. Her spine arched involuntarily against the crushing force.
“And then,” Daghan continued, “I’ll hunt down your little friends. An arrogant elf and a stiff-legged dwarf—easy targets for my clay guards.”
The color drained from Aksanaa’s face.
"Keep them out of this," she whispered.
"I would love to. But that depends on you. So here’s the final deal: gold, the release of certain prisoners... and your friends stay safe."
Aksanaa didn’t have to do the math. Her friends’ lives meant everything. She would do anything to keep them safe. Saelwyn had sheltered her, tended to her when she was at her lowest, and Runi—though their bond was newer—had made her feel more welcomed and understood than she ever had before. And the prisoners… She had seen the grief in the mines with her own eyes: mothers without children, wives waiting for husbands who never returned. Reuniting those families would be a blessing beyond words.
And the gold? The rebellion was starving. It wasn’t just about survival anymore—it was about giving them a fighting chance.
Still, the idea of returning to that gate...
"I’ll lead you there. But I won’t cross the threshold. And I suggest you don’t either."
“That’s my choice. Yours is to guide me to Garrad Dum and ensure I return to my castle. Once I’m back, I’ll keep my word. Deal?”
He extended his hand. As he did, the half-giant released her. She stumbled, caught her footing, and shot the big man a glare. Grön shrugged apologetically.
Aksanaa looked at Daghan’s hand, then took it.
"Deal," she echoed.
"You’re free to go. We leave tomorrow at dawn. Meet me at the southern entrance of Nyvanor Forest. Don’t test me. I’ll find you if you lie."
She nodded.
Daghan glanced at the dagger still in his grip. It buzzed—alive, almost humming. Drawn to her.
He twirled it once, understanding.
Then tossed it.
She caught it in midair.
“Keep it. Seems it’s chosen you. Wouldn’t listen to me anymore.”
Aksanaa stared at the weapon. Why did everyone keep saying that about this dagger?
She sheathed it slowly, her fingers brushing the hilt with lingering suspicion. The weight of it at her side felt different now—like a decision she hadn’t fully made yet.
When she turned to the door, Grön was still there, blocking her path like a mountain that hadn’t yet decided to move.
She narrowed her eyes, squared her shoulders, and walked forward.
“Move.”
The half-giant didn’t budge.
“I said—move.” Her voice was colder now, sharper than before.
When he still didn’t react, she shoved him—not just to pass, but to assert something, anything, in a moment where she had been thoroughly cornered. The push barely made him shift, but it was enough. He stepped aside with a grunt, more surprised than harmed.
Aksanaa walked out without looking back. Her steps were fast, echoing down the hallway like a drumbeat of defiance—but her fingers trembled at her side.
Once she was gone, Grön scratched his beard, frowning.
“You sure you want to let her walk, boss? Should I follow her?”
Daghan watched the door, expression unreadable.
“No need. There are better ways to keep someone imprisoned than chains,” he murmured. “She’ll come. Because she cares.”
Grön blinked, then slowly nodded.
“If you say so, boss.”
- Writer
