His memories had revealed things about this place; that it was built to imprison....something or someone specific, that the rest of the prison had grown around that, that there were labyrinthine places in the depths of it that had, as best as he could tell, been untouched for centuries even when his past self had walked these halls. There were places in the dark and the depths that were not meant for men to walk.
Fortunately, he suspected his Code piece was not so deeply buried.
Perhaps it might have been, once, but the golden, shimmering trail that guided him to the front doors and towards the room that he had come to think of as the warden's office--his old office, as best as he'd gathered, at least for a time--confirmed his suspicions.
There were secret chambers in this building, and it was not exactly a surprise to him when he stepped into the office and the trail disappeared through a wall. Of course the Code wasn't simply left out where anyone could handle it; it was far, far too important for that. And the back wall, where the trail disappeared, was decorated with a hanging coat of arms--one that matched the symbol on d'If's signet ring.
Honestly? For a hidden secret chamber entrance, it was a little unimpressive.
The coat of arms was heavy, but d'If was used to handling heavy things; it was carefully set aside, and there, right under it, was a depression in a familiar shape.
d'If pressed his signet ring to it, and the wall opened before him.
The room inside was a disaster area. It had clearly been a secondary study, and there were old books and papers thrown around. An entire bookshelf was destroyed, collapsed in on itself on the back wall. The masonry of the floor was cracked and chipped.
And hanging in the center of the room, in a beautiful metal cage of sorts--a lantern with no glass on the sides, almost--attached to the ceiling, was a familiar glowing orb. This was only the second time that d'If had laid his eyes on a piece of the Code, but as far as he was concerned, there was no denying that was what he was looking at.
Well. That was a relief. He hoped Dunwich had as easy a time as he had finding her own Code piece; the sooner this was done and their Wonders were restored, the better.
They were supposed to attune to it. d'If only sort of understood what that meant; it could be any number of things. But in the end, he settled for lowering himself down, crossing his legs, and focusing. He wasn't exactly a meditation guy, but that didn't mean he couldn't learn; certainly, taking a moment to clear his mind wasn't all that hard, and it felt....rewarding, in a way. Centering. Calming.
"What, exactly, am I being accused of?" Virgil demanded. d'If could feel that, for all he was trying to project confidence and anger, the Warden of the Ile d'If was...afraid.
"Treason, your knightliness," the man across from him said. "Aiding and abetting a fugitive from justice, one who is believed to have connections to Chaotic entities, and is thus a danger to the universe as a whole."
"Eamon! You know that these accusations are lies! You know I would never have betrayed my duty, my Order--" Desperation leaked into Virgil's voice--desperation and disbelief. He genuinely could not comprehend what was happening to him.
"I would have preferred to believe such, my friend," another man--Eamon--said, and he looked remorseful--but there was something off about his expression, even if d'If couldn't quite place it.
"The fugitive disappeared in transit to your prison, Virgil." The first man (Dieter, his name was Deiter, Virgil had met him once or twice before) cut in, and Virgil turned to him, still shocked. "Who else would have known to interrupt the transportation, to help him flee into the wilderness? No, you were not foolish enough to directly aid in his escape, but your hirted men were quite talkative when we caught up with them."
"I did no such thing!" Virgil protested. "Someone else must have--"
d'If felt the moment it dawned on him. That he was not the only one who knew--that he'd discussed the plans with a few close, trusted friends.
Including Eamon.
"You--" He whirled, full of towering rage.
"The sentence for such a crime would ordinarily be death, but considering the volatile state of the universe, it would be risky to leave a Wonder without a Knight. And thus--you will be imprisoned in your own jail." Dieter said. There was a finality in his voice, as if he was not to be argued against.
"Is there to be no trial? No opportunity to defend myself?" Virgil demanded. "What justice is this?"
"The only kind served to traitors," Eamon said.
His grin was serpent-toxic.
"But don't worry, Virgil, my dear friend. I'll ensure your wife is well looked after in your absence."
d'If jolted back to present reality, heart hammering and a simmering, ancient rage boiling under his skin.
Virgil had been betrayed. Locked away in his own Wonder. And the insinuation about his wife--
d'If ground his teeth. The room around him looked much better, as if by stabilizing the Code it had been allowed to repair itself. That was enough for now.
He needed to go home and see his wife, before the memory he’d just seen got too stuck under his skin.
[wc: 1008 words]
