The same dream…every night.
Dreams that lead
Since the second night of his captivity, he had the same dream…every night.
The temperature diminished in sync with the dissipating light. The pressure increased until it became too great, too…compacting. Here, as far as he could descend, Timm felt like he was treading water…treading underwater.
Treading underwater at the deepest ranges he could descend without suffering damage or risking his mortality. The gap or void, or whatever it was that he dropped his mistress’s prizes or requests or sacrifices into was a place from which nothing returned. A place he had been once but had never visited outside of his dreams since.
The sea had allowed him to escape his mother’s fate, his wits had saved him many more times, but something else had been his true savior. Three times assigned to cursed crews and three times he survived…although the last time came with a cost…a bond.
“Feed them to me” it said. It wasn’t as much a voice as an internal demand. Anyone who’s been addicted would recognize the feeling. One Timm hated and still fought, but worried he would submit to someday…submit to again someday.
A year ago, he would have satiated his mistress with more haste, but lately, he was questioning the arrangement. Was all of his power from her, or was at least some of it his? If it was all her, did his recruitment make any sense? If she knew everything and had been here since before time began why did she need me? The truth was he knew she didn’t and that didn’t make him feel any better...and then he woke.
Testing Boundaries
Fucking with your benefactor and your adversaries at the same time is probably not a good strategy to pursue, but that didn’t stop the Navigator while he was in prison.
Timm’s captors had not revealed very much information that was useful in the short term he was there. As familiar with his environment as he was going to get while blindfolded, he decided to act. After three days it was the best time for him to reveal that he was not so much a captive as a recon agent.
He had no plans on murder; sucking them into the depths and letting them be devoured, or whatever happens when a thing or person gets dropped into the maw and he did not plan on giving them the information they wanted.
The plan became in that moment, somewhere in the middle of the third day of his capture that he was no longer willing to be bound…no longer inclined to serve.
Sometimes it gets ugly.
Expecting immediate death left the resulting reaction less painful than expected. But, as expected, his mistress did not like his internal monologue and let her displeasure be known. Wracked with spasming muscles, unusual arthritis for a 28-year-old, and a spine that seemed to be experiencing rapid scoliosis, Timm writhed in pain but refused to scream or submit.
Instead, in his mind and in broken words spoken between gasps of pain, he muttered, I will serve loyally, but I will not submit…ever. Destroy me now if you will or let me do things my way in this world that is alien to you even in all your millennia of existence.
Silence is the most uncomfortable answer
All he got was silence. No “feeling”, no “subtle breeze”, no “shift in the currents”...no punishment, no wracking pain, no needles, no sensations of drowning.
Timm wasn’t sure how to take the response. And he’s mostly sure that the response is meant to keep him guessing. No answers, no inclinations, no demands for sacrifice…all things Timm is okay with.
All of his granted powers and abilities bestowed upon him by his lady still exist and that makes him very nervous. He expects to pay a price for the powers he was granted but also knows he has paid a price already.
She has not confronted him directly except for two occasions and Timm plans on confronting her/it on their next meeting. He is content with his challenge ending in his demise. He is not content with his current situation any longer and he is not in a hurry or rush to get into a confrontation with his mistress...just worn out and tired of lying, no longer willing to tolerate it.
The pain intensified in qeue with his thoughts and feelings, but after a few hours, his muscles stopped twitching, shaking, contracting, and spasming as his whole body loosened all at once. He sighed and didn’t move. He was fine with sleeping on this cold slab as his whole body relaxed...wherever he was.
<Timm is still in captivity but is ready to leave and will just start killing people pretty soon if nothing enlightening occurs and they don’t release him. He’ll go from compliant friendly prisoner to murderous psychopath pretty quickly once he hits his tipping point. When back in Bassot, Timm will ask for a meeting with Zuc Swain and if granted share his predicament and ask for advice on the situation. Timm will arrange this outside of party business and not tell the party he’s doing it. I'll probably edit this a bit over the next week or so...I'll remove this part of the note when I'm done with edits.>
