The King - A man with a long black mustache

After passing through the small door that protected the dungeons from those who were unfamiliar with the castle's most secret passages, Rufus hurriedly descended the stairs, which always seemed endless. Various cells emerged from fissures in the tunnel, opening up into corridors, but most of them were empty. Some lifelong prisoners were left there to starve to death, but the true torture chamber lay beyond the last step of that staircase, at the lowest point of Ard Taj. From a distance, Rufus noticed that the room below was illuminated. Finally arriving, he realized that almost nothing had changed. The torture chamber was not very spacious, with sturdy concrete beams on the side walls, leaning against the walls, supporting the long pieces of rotten and damp wood that formed the ceiling. The room was square-shaped, with the two side walls containing shelves filled with razor-sharp metal instruments capable of making any man talk. Swords, knives, small spiked balls connected by a chain, various whips, and even acid were all there. The other wall held two enormous chests that the King had never opened. The last wall was where the cell was located, with a broken piece of stone protruding inward, directly into the wall, where there was nothing but the body of a man and some chains. The cell was separated from the rest of the room by thick vertical bars and a metal door. Everything was illuminated by four torches, all mounted on the wall above the chests. In the center of it all, a massive blood-stained table brought back many memories.

The King was greeted by the posture of his men. Four guards were present in that small space. Too many people. Rufus noticed that he had brought his crown with him, but his attire was not as regal: only the basic pieces of blackened leather, knee-high boots, pants, and a coat over his tunic. Nevertheless, he maintained his posture and his face as rigid as the stones surrounding them.

"Take him out of there," the order was direct. The soldier guarding the door opened it and lifted the criminal. He was not a young lad, as his cheeks would be filled if he didn't shave them, but his physical stature was what caught the most attention. He had a large and well-defined chest, biceps that seemed capable of crushing a man's head, and his legs resembled tree trunks, but his overall body seemed limp. The man's face expressed sadness and exhaustion, his eyes heavy as an anvil, and his mouth appeared to have not tasted water in a long time. After another guard held the man upright outside the cell, the interrogation began.

"Tell me, who are you?" the King asked, looking directly into the eyes of the man. But he received no response. "I asked..." The King approached and squeezed the prisoner's cheeks forcefully, feeling the strength of his facial muscles. "...who are you!". But once again, only silence answered him. Rufus knew what he had to do. "Take him down."

The other two guards lifted the prisoner's legs and positioned him on top of the table. The man then decided to speak.

"Sassses sos ossi, siosass," he grunted, causing the soldiers holding his legs to release him.

The King furrowed his brow. He recognized that language from the old legends, the snake tongue, spoken only by the old men and women who knew how to communicate with serpents. It was said that Ard Akhdar had once harbored various native peoples, whom the colonizers of Pangea had exterminated, although a few had survived. The tales and songs spoke of people who twisted and danced their tongue while speaking, being understood only by the serpents, whom they would command to attack the enemy. Rufus had never heard it before, despite every child forging their own snake tongue while playing. Either that man was playing with them, or he was a person very distant from civilization.

"Who brought you here?... Where is Captain?" the King asked his soldiers.

"It was us, Your Highness. We took him from the Old Curious One himself. The Captain stayed there. We would have brought him as soon as Your Highness gave the order, after examining the prisoner, but the explosion at the harbor complicated things."

"I see. Do you remember where the Old Curious One was docked, soldier? Towards the beginning, the middle, or the end of the pier?" - A terrible possibility arose in the King's mind.

"Practically in the middle, Your Highness." - The soldier looked down, as if afraid to meet the monarch's gaze. Rufus received the answer harshly. The middle of the pier could be a vast area, given its entire length, but it was the most affected part. Perhaps his friend's ship could be one of those overturned and floating upside down in the ocean waters. The King needed answers. Rufus removed his leather overcoat, leaving himself in a simple, sweat-soaked white shirt, a garment too elegant for what he was about to do. The soldiers held the prisoner's legs and arms as he thrashed about, still screaming in that language dominated by the letter S. The king turned to one of the shelves, displaying small knives, needles, and a scythe. Below were candles, gunpowder, bullets, and weapons. Rufus decided he would start with the needles. The four soldiers seemed to recoil as much as the prisoner while the King himself inserted the needles into the foreigner's body.

Rufus could barely lift the long machete he had used to carve fissures in the foreigner's back when he decided it was time to stop. With so many tortures in his life, he realized how much a man suffers before telling the truth. The King was not a murderer; he simply did everything to protect his kingdom, and under those circumstances, taking someone's life was justifiable. But Rufus had decided that he would not do it. The incessant screams in the snake tongue further frayed the nerves of the Lord of Ard Taj. Not a single word was understood, but thousands poured out of the man's mouth.

"Enough," the monarch finally announced. The four soldiers were sweating in their uniforms, their throat veins pulsating as they did their best to keep the man in the position the King commanded. A sigh escaped from each of them, relieved that they could finally rest. - "Put him back in the cell and summon a healer. This man should be treated with water and bread until the Captain can clarify why he sent him here."

The men responded affirmatively, exhausted. The prisoner was already suffering, his white skin stained with blood all over his body. The four soldiers used the little strength they had left to drag the prisoner back to the cell. The foreigner didn't utter a murmur and was simply thrown onto the stone floor behind the bars. The King's men exited the cell and locked it. They then sat on the floor, breathless and angry for not having brought water with them.

"Which one of you will go up?" the King asked, leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs with his overcoat and crown in his hands. The four soldiers looked at each other, hoping that someone braver would have the strength to climb the stairs. None of them responded. Rufus pointed to the one closest to him, a man with tanned skin and a long black mustache. "You, let's go!"

The soldier jumped up, standing at attention.

"Yes, Your Highness," he said, and followed the King to the surface.