Dragon_Scribbles
patreon
Retreat, Hell - Episode 15.5
🕑 Added 2021-07-31 02:54:30 +0000 UTCA/N: What's this? Two RH updates in a month? That doesn't happen...
} ; = 8 P
Today's episode continues Tyriel's interrogation, and gives a few more, albeit sparse, details about the elves. I've got long-running plans for Tyriel and his misadventures that will run to the very end of the story, so the pacing might be slower than some will like, but there's a reason for it. There's a lot of long-term stuff that I'm setting up for.
Episode 16 is basically done. I'll be going through and giving it a good polish this week, and I am currently planning on posting it next weekend.
Episode 17 will be the final chapter of Act III, and after that we will be on to Act IV and back on the offensive, taking the war to the elves. Most of it will be following 2nd Squad, but we'll also be continuing with Tyriel's adventures, and I've got several other half-episodes that showcase the conflict from other perspectives.
Now, without further ado, the next episode!
Retreat Hell – Episode 15.5
“What kinds of food do you eat?”
“The kind that is food.” Tyriel stared at the disgusting animal across from him. I hate talking to this beast … And I hate that I have nothing better to do …
“Do you eat fruits? Vegetables? Red meat? Fish?”
Tyriel wrinkled his nose in disgust. Of course they have more than one word for meat. “We do not eat flesh.”
John nodded, making a note on his writing pad. “Do you grow crops?”
“We eat what Gahla provides us.” He leaned back in his chair, the chains linking his manacles to the floor clinking softly.
“Can you be more specific? We would like to ensure we’re providing you with adequate nutrition. Do you eat fruit? Vegetables? Nuts, berries? Mushrooms? Tubers? Greens?”
“… Yes.”
“Do you have any food allergies?”
Tyriel frowned. “… I don’t understand the question.”
“Is there anything that could cause some sort of anaphylactic shock or other adverse reaction if you eat it?” John looked up from his notepad. “It is not uncommon for humans to have allergic reactions to peanuts or shellfish, ranging from mild irritation or hives to full-blown anaphylaxis and death. I know that you won’t have any way of knowing how you will react to Earth foods, but if there is anything specific on Gahla you’re allergic to, we can test it to make sure we’re not giving you anything from Earth that contains a similar allergen.”
Tyriel blinked. “I … No, I do not. What a bizarre problem to have.”
John nodded, scribbling something else in his notepad.
“Is there anything specific that you have cultural or religious aversions to eating?”
Tyriel raised an eyebrow at him. “I do not understand the question.”
John set his pen down, meeting Tyriel’s eyes. “We want to respect your beliefs as much as we can. There are some things that we won’t be able to do, but making sure that we don’t serve you anything that you have a cultural or religious taboo against eating is one thing we can do to accommodate your faith or culture.”
Such primitive, backwards people … “The only thing we have an aversion to eating is the flesh of creatures. We are not animals.”
With a nod, John made another note on his paper. “What about products produced by animals, like milk or cheese?”
Tyriel gave him a disgusted look. “No.”
“How do you normally prepare your food?”
He rolled his eyes and sneered down his nose at the human. “You could not appreciate, or even comprehend the range and variety of food we create.”
John simply met his gaze. “Can you give me some examples?”
His lip twitching slightly as he held the sneer, Tyriel kept his eyes locked with Johns, his contempt plain on his face. The human returned nothing but neutral curiosity, however, while Tyriel’s eyes slowly narrowed.
After a long moment of silence, he sighed, dismissively looking away. “I doubt you could come close to mimicking the appropriate seasonings and spices, nevermind correctly preparing anything but the most basic dishes.”
“Do you cook anything, or do you have any other preparation methods?”
He rolled his eyes. “Some fruits and vegetables are commonly eaten as they grow, or prepared without cooking. Others are served roasted, boiled, fried, sauteed, or prepared a thousand other ways.”
“Do you have a favorite food or dish?”
“No.”
John set his pen down, folding his hands together and looking Tyriel in the eye. “Do you want to talk about last night?”
“No.”
“We want you to be comfortable here, but we can’t allow you to have your blankets back if that is what you are going to do with them. Why did you try to hang yourself?”
“Because I am held by animals.”
“If that were the case you would have tried to hang yourself with them the first night we gave them to you.” John shook his head. “Tyriel, you’re much too smart to have taken this long to have come up with that idea. What prompted this?”
“The boredom is interminable.”
John picked up a pen and made a note in his pad. “What would you normally do to occupy yourself?”
Silence sat between them for a moment. Tyriel’s lip twitched. “I would enter a dreamscape.”
“Is this like a daydream?”
Tyriel grunted, giving John a smirk full of disdain. “It is hardly so primitive.”
“And what makes it more advanced than a daydream?”
“Comparing a flight of fancy to a dreamscape is like comparing a rock to a mountain.”
“What is this dreamscape like?”
“Whatever I wish it to be, limited by imagination and memory.”
“Why can’t you enter a dreamscape?”
Tyriel leaned forward. “What are you doing to block mana?”
“You need mana to create a dreamscape?” John asked, giving him nothing more than a slightly raised eyebrow.
Tyriel leaned back in his chair. “Mana is the foundation of everything.”
John made another note in his tablet. “What do you use the dreamscape for?”
“For entertainment when surrounded by animals.”
“Just entertainment?” John looked up from his notepad. “Do you use it for anything else?”
“I use it to live in a world free of pestering animals.”
John wrote a long line in his notepad, then glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid we’re out of time for today.” He closed his notepad and stood up. “We’ll continue tomorrow.” He turned and walked out of the room.
Tyriel sat alone in silence for several minutes, as usual, though this time seemed to be longer than usual before the guards came in and took him back to his cell.
Returned to his single-room prison, Tyriel sat down on the thin mattress atop his bed, crossing his legs underneath him, and sought to center himself.
He had only just begun to fade out his awareness of his cell when the slat at the bottom of the door opened and a tray was slid inside. It wasn’t just shoved through like usual, however, though the door slid shut with the normal vehemence.
Unfolding his legs, Tyriel stood and walked over to the tray. There was more food than his last meal, and unlike his previous meals, it was comprised of whole and sliced vegetables. Or maybe fruits… I don’t recognize any of these…
Curious, he picked up the tray, and was surprised to find some of the divided sections were warm. Mouth watering at the prospect of actual cooked food, he quickly turned and sat down on his bunk and started picking through the meal.
He was cautious at first, John’s questions about ‘allergies’ on his mind, but quickly tossed his caution aside. He was slowed only by the conflict of filling an underfed stomach and savoring food with actual flavor.
“This is basic… A collection of food items, no proper dish…” He scooped a spoonful of roasted tubers with light seasoning into his mouth and chewed in appreciation. It doesn’t compare to a proper elven meal, but it actually tastes good. “Or maybe it’s just the lack of flavor for so long…” he muttered after swallowing.
All too soon, the tray was empty. His palette wasn’t fully satisfied, but his belly didn’t feel half empty. He stood, and pondered whether he should feel satisfied with the meal, or disgusted as he walked to his sink. The thought that his meal had been prepared by animals turned his stomach a little, but not enough that he wasn’t happy to have better meals.
He turned on the sink and rinsed the food residue off his tray and utensils, then drank his fill of water before walking over to the door. The bin had opened shortly after he picked up his meal, and closed moments after he returned his tray. He snorted, remembering the first time that had changed. He had scrambled to shove as much food down his own throat before the screeching noise started, only for the bin to be left open for five minutes after he returned the tray.
Returning to his bunk, Tyriel sat down, folded his legs under him, and and resumed his meditation. He still couldn’t reach the dream state, and doubted he would be able find a connection even if magic wasn’t being suppressed.
However, as he strained against the void of mana in his mind, he found something interesting.
And what is this… The ambient mana of the universe was thoroughly suppressed; his greatest efforts to draw mana out had so far failed. But the suppression isn’t absolute… Carefully, gently, he explored the faintest trace of magic slipping through whatever they have blocking it.
It was not much, barely even a trickle, and it took him days of meditation to even find it, but it was there.
Mana.
Tamping down his excitement, he delicately reached out and slowly began to siphon off and collect what he could, storing it away. It was not enough to do anything with, he would barely consider it even a trace, and it wouldn’t be anything more for a very long time.
“But I am no stranger to exercising patience …” he muttered.
Comments
Yu Wei Lee
Thanks for the update
