Shaken
Wordcount: 1134
"Others of the Astra non Obligant have already said that they did not expect the magister to be killed." Vexus stood on the one hundred eleventh floor of the Arx Correctio, face to face with the enlil youth who had tried to kill him. The one-armed would-be assassin had his forehead pressed to the bars, an intense look in his yellow eyes. "It caught everyone off-guard. If he had died, who did they plan to put in his place?"
Rapax took a step back, confusion replacing his apparent bloodlust. "You don't make any sense, old man. The only ones that even could replace him are you and your two friends. Unless one of you three is already with the Astras, there's no chance of us being involved."
The elderly prophet frowned, slipping his hands into the opposing sleeves of his yellow robes. "No, I mean replace the man himself. If there were no plans for a public assassination, then surely the intent was to kill the magister before the event and put an imposter in his place."
One raptor eyebrow raised. "Why? How? You're not making sense."
Vexus shook his head. "It's the only thing that makes sense! I saw Eximium die, I saw as his life passed on right in front of my eyes. He was my mentor, and I held his lifeless body in my hands!" The old prophet's eyes narrowed. "I hungered for revenge like I never had before. I wanted to take that revenge on you -- not just you, but anyone who took my bait and sought to take my life.
"Those are emotions I've never felt before, hatred that burned inside me and came so close to snuffing out all of the truth and all of the faith I had known my whole life. I cannot believe... that it was all fake. That it was only a test."
"I thought Castus brought the magister back," Rapax pointed out, unnerved by the prophet's candor. "Nobody claimed he never died -- the magister himself said that Castus brought him back!"
Here, Vexus hesitated, turning away from the cell. Why did he feel the need to voice his doubts? To the young man who had tried to kill him, no less? It was because the doubts were eating away at him. It was because he did not trust those he knew, but he trusted in the simplicity that was Rapax's own desire for revenge. "I don't know. It's possible. Nothing like it has ever happened, not in any of the histories, not in any of the scripture. But, Master Eximium is closer to Castus than any man alive, so perhaps it's true?"
"Your faith doesn't seem to be worth much for a man calling himself 'prophet,'" Rapax pointed out.
"I've known Eximium all my life. When he came back, he was... different."
"So, you're saying he is an imposter?" the enlil asked, genuine curiosity tempering his caustic nature.
Vexus shook his head and turned back to his captive audience. "No. No, I don't see how he could be," he admitted. "He knows things that only the real Eximium could know. Things from my time with him, where no others were present. He speaks the same, acts the same. His heart is the same."
In his cell, Rapax turned away with disdain, scratching at the violet feathers on his chest with his one arm. "Doesn't sound like he's different at all, then. Are you that afraid of your own imperfection that you would rather believe in phantoms and changelings? You're wasting time that I could be spending staring at the wall."
The words sent a shudder through Vexus, since they struck closer to home than he would have expected. "You knew the plans, right? If they didn't plan to kill the magister, what did they say the plan was?" He was grasping at straws, desperately hoping that he wasn't losing his mind. His faith in the Vis was unshakeable, but his faith in his mentor was faltering. When Eximium had first risen from the dead, Vexus had been elated, swelling with relief, but as the months had gone by, something had nagged at him.
The magister had been as good as his word in the follow-up announcement, too. The entire treaty had been reviewed again and again, revised to strip out the worst of what the Astra non Obligant had touted as the reasons for their cause. The ancient magister had seemed more alive than ever before, in fact, consumed with passion even greater than when the original treaty was being drafted.
Looking at Vexus over his shoulder, Rapax raised an eyebrow. "There was no plan to kill the magister because we were always told he would see the truth of our message. You three were the ones considered dangerous, especially the Solaviskar prophet. In fact, until I heard 'Orator' speak, I had no idea that we were behind the assassination. I thought that someone killed him to hurt our cause.
"Before Orator spoke, my suspicions ran to Prophet Deimar." Rapax dropped back onto his cot and leaned against the wall of the cell. "You're wasting your time here, prophet. I'm done talking. For those answers, you can only turn to Orator, and it sounds like he ain't talking, either."
The youth sneered, baring his fangs. "And lest I forget: thank you."
Confused and now irate, Vexus frowned suspiciously. "Why thank me? You've forfeited the opportunity to tell me anything worthwhile, and therefore nothing worthwhile will come to you."
"I failed to take your life, it's true. That much I will grant you." Rapax scowled at the admission, but soon returned to his vicious sneer. "But, I think I can settle for killing your faith, O Prophet."
A door clanged open from the side and the guard came in, right at ten minutes as promised. "Everything okay in here, Prophet Vexus?"
The old man was visibly angry, but his countenance calmed before he turned toward the guard. "Indeed, I have gotten more than I expected, though less than I hoped. The prisoner continues to be uncooperative. Perhaps it would be wise to bar him from time in the open air."
The guard grinned at that. "I think we will take that under advisement, certainly. Are you ready to leave now, Prophet?"
Vexus shook his head. "No, I must visit one more inmate before I leave."
Rapax dropped down on his cot, hiding his scowl at the punishment that Vexus commanded so casually. "Come again any time. May Castus light your way, O Prophet," he called out, taunting the religious figurehead and reclaiming a bit of his own smile.
Those words haunted Vexus as he followed the guard, preparing to head all the way to the top floor, where Orator was being kept.