Elezar nodded, and turned to the prince’s body. His fingers trembled as he pulled at the buckles that held his armor on, and his hoped that his master did not notice it, that his obedience was enough. He hated what he was doing, hated that he knew, no matter how he tried to deny it, what those chains were for. But he could not stop, no matter how much pain it meant for Zarrek. He pulled the breastplate away from Zarrek’s body and tossed it aside.
Bazalus watched as it disappeared into the shadows, folding his ears back at the sound of it crashing against something or other. He let out a faint whine, as the he, too, realized what the Lord of Darkness planned to do, and did not wish it upon the prince. Glare from the lord silenced him.
“Yes,” Métius said, drawing own the vowel in a tone of deep satisfaction. “I thought that you would be obedient. Now, lay him on his belly.”
Again the former general obeyed. He rolled Zarrek away from him, his chest on the grey stones beneath them, his head to the side. Then he stood up and looked at the demon god, biting his tongue to keep from saying anything. He knew that even if he begged for Zarrek’s life, it would endanger his own family. All he could do was tell himself that the prince had overstepped his bounds too many times, that it was his time to answer for denying Métius for so long.
The Dark One stepped closer to to Elezar. He looked down at him, his expression so even that he could not tell what his master was thinking. The he pulled an object from his belt, and placed it in the palm of his hand. His touch was both like ice and like the piercing heat of metal red from the flames, dry as desert sand yet also damp and slimy like the swamps of Thiizav; he was terrible to touch, yet Elezar knew also that it was an honor to be able to experience it.
“Go to your son,” Métius ordered him.
As he pull his clawed hand back, Elezar realized that his master had laid in his hand a long piece of wrought iron, rusted, but that had once been black. It was a key, his mind finally put together. If Métius had ordered him to go to his son, then surely this was they to free him from his cage.