Chapter Thirty-Nine: Elum’s Choice

"When will you end this foolishness?" Elum's wretched arm questioned, its ancient voice echoing through his mind. "If freedom is what you desire, then I can provide it to you. The Silver Flame cannot be contained by these flimsy cuffs, all you need to do is submit."

Elum licked dry lips, the back of his head touching the cool stone wall of his cell. Ironically, the temperature was completely comfortable for him, owing to his race. The heat of his blood kept him warm against the frigid air of this cell, but the isolation was driving him near to madness. Especially when the only one he had to talk with was his cursed arm.

"Perhaps it will be today Elum, or perhaps tomorrow, but eventually these Romai are going to execute you. Not only that, but I guarantee you that your friends will be next, if they haven't been killed already. You could save them, Elum… be the hero and accept my deal, I'll even save you from becoming mad, would that not be better?" The voice asked.

"I won't." Elum replied, hanging his head, "I won't…"

He said that, but as time passed, he found it difficult to imagine any other options. This 'Silver Flame' that the arm kept mentioning could apparently work despite his suppressor cuffs. A bit of magic and he'd be out of here in no time. Would it be so bad to allow the arm more autonomy? His gut told him that it was a horrible idea, that it would lead to inevitable disaster, but his alternatives seemed far worse. Either he would rot away in this cell forever, at least until he went mad, or he would be killed.

He clung onto the hope that somehow, someone would save them all. Be it Twindil, Hoplite, somebody, anybody; as long as it didn't have to be himself that did so. Three days had passed since their capture though, and so far no miracles had happened yet. If it came to it, blast it all, he'd have to take the arm up on it's deal. How much longer should he wait, a day, two? Maybe just an hour. It depended on how the day went, he supposed.

"What even are you, who are you?" Elum asked, knowing the answer he'd receive.

"The flesh of your world, long forgotten." It replied in an icy tone, "Reduced to this state by your cursed Pillar-Gods." 

"What exactly happened?" he asked.

"The Overseer's Eye was gouged, plucked clean and flooded with gore."

"That doesn't mean anything." Elum said, frustrated, "Do you even have a name?"

"You will know all soon enough, after you accept my offer." 

"Never," he sneered. "I won't make a deal with a monster like you."

"I can tell that you're close to making the correct decision boy, perhaps it would be best to let you stew a while in despair."

"Do that please," Elum told it, glaring at his gray limb. "I'm sick of hearing your stupid voice."

Surprisingly, it complied, lapsing into silence… right in time for the slot of his door to open. He spotted eyes peering in from the darkness and Elum sighed.

"You again," Elum spat disdainfully. "What is it now, Dunny?"

"You will not refer to me as such," Dundale warned. 

"Oh no, what are you going to do about it?" He rolled his head around his shoulders. "Go away. Can't I have some peace and quiet around here?"

The captor paused at the statement, then responded, "I see that the hells are real, judging by your existence."

"What are you talking about?" he groaned.

 "You have red skin and seem to have an irregularly high body temperature, seeing as you've ignored the blanket gift and have yet to voice any discomfort to the purposeful chill. Adding into the fact that you speak with some unseen being, it is simply logical to assume you are a spawn of the demons."

This dwarf was getting annoying, but just annoying enough to correct. "We're not demons, you ignorant fool!"

"Could have fooled me," the snarky reply once again taunted him. "Our records only stretch back to the end of the Sixth age, when we were deposed from the surface. Who's to say what interbreeding has occurred since the last few apocalypses." 

"Not with demons, I know that."

"Your argument is very convincing." Dundale stated sarcastically.

"Whatever." Elum sighed and leaned against the cool stone wall.

After another pause, the dwarf again tried to spark a conversation. "Can your kind interbreed with humanity?"

"Yeah, that's what Ifrits are. A cross between humans and some distant ancestor."

"Is that ancestor a fire elemental?"

"Look, I know humans can get weird with other species sometimes, but not that weird." Elum shook his head. "At least, I don't think they would, or even could."

"I fail to imagine any other life form that resembles your race's other half."

"Why's this so important? Don't you have to shine your vampire overlord's boots or something?"

The guard took another few moments to think over a reply. "I understand that accepting your ancestry can be rather difficult."

Elum threw up his hands and then dragged them down his face. When would this torture end? A small chuckle sounded inside his mind as the gray mass seemed to find his pain amusing. "If it'll make you shut up for five minutes, I'll tell you what I know." He frowned as he delved into his memory. "My mother always told me that our ancestors came from Faenor. They intermingled with a group of humans that survived the Sixth Godling War and Ifrits came from those unions."

A soft scoff sounded from beyond the door. "I hope you have better knowledge of your race outside of a mythic legend of a place never proven to exist."

"Don't like it? Fine. There are other theories that the Ifrits just mutated into being from the Fiery Lashes or the nearby Steamlands, but I know it's bull. That damn desert is a boiling hellscape, my kind prefer cold or temperate places. The Steamlands would kill us. No way that's where we're from."

The dwarf's voice rose with curiosity, "The Fiery Lashes have withstood the test of time, but these Steamlands are new."

"It's not much better than the Lashes. Every drop of moisture that condensates from the nearby ocean is evaporated into this choking, heated wall of mist that shapes the desert into mirage paradise. I've heard stories of adventurers going there for treasure, but most of them end with the treasure-hunters coming back empty-handed and covered in burns, if they come back at all."

"So you don't hail from there."

"Nope," Elum said curtly.

"Is your homeland more accommodating?"

The godling rolled his eyes. "In weather, sure."

"Your fellow Pillar-Born have spoken the name of your home on occasion: Umant."

Elum glared into the stone wall and felt his jaw tighten. "I'm only going to say this, dwarf: if Umant was burning to the ground, my first reaction would be to roast a fresh meal over it." Groaning and forcing himself to stand, he turned his back to the guard and said, "That's all I got to say. I'm going to take a leak now, so unless you want to study my gonads, you should move along." He lied, waving his hand dismissively.

However, right after he said that, he heard metal scraping stone from the tiny opening in his door. 

"Wait, what's that?" Elum asked, "Are you letting someone out?"

"It is none of your concern. Goodbye." Dundale replied, shutting the eye slot.

After it was closed, all noise from the hall was completely inaudible. Elum knew what he had heard though… one of these big doors had opened up for some reason, but why? He chewed his lip as he thought, coming up with horrible scenarios involving his friends and their vampire captors. Were they taking them to be executed? Who was it that was leaving the hall?

Elum grabbed his graying arm as his thoughts became a whirl of worry. He stood, eyes wide and jaw clenched as he approached the door. He then placed his hands against it, and reached for Foundation… but as always, it wasn't there. His damn suppressor cuffs cut off the Golden Flame completely. If he could worm even just a smidge of magic through the cuffs, he might be able to melt through this damn door, but it was useless.

He'd already tried smashing his cuffs against the walls in an attempt to break them, but that had been fruitless as well. Either way, someone was being dragged off to gods-knew-where, but he had a feeling it wasn't good. He needed to think of something, fast.

"I can help you through that door Elum." The voice told him, "All I require is for you to give in."

Elum hesitated, "No."

"Very well, perhaps after more of your friends are devoured, you will consider my offer… or maybe you will wait until you are the last remaining?"

Elum didn't reply, fists tightening.

"Think of it, to live forever, to not go mad… to save your friends." It told him.

"I can't. I won't." He said, more to himself.

"You will never be able to leave this place otherwise, cast yourself either unto the vampires, or unto me. Those are the choices you have."

As much as Elum hated to admit it, the voice was telling the truth. He'd been waiting for a miracle for these past few days, but nothing had happened, indeed, it seemed that nothing would happen. Hoplite was clearly dead, he'd not be coming in to save the day, and if his friends had broken free, they would have saved him by now… it was up to him, and him alone. He hung his horned head in defeat as he stared down at his graying arm. He weighed the options in his mind for a long while, several minutes passing before he finally came to a decision.

"I… I accept." Elum said with a wince, "Get me out of here."

"You see sense, finally." It replied, "I grant you the power of the Silver Flame, Elum, use it in all its glory, save yourself."

Elum screamed as the gray matter of his arm rapidly spread across his skin, turning it from a deep shade of crimson, to a dark gray, only stopping just at his shoulder and some parts of his neck. The agony nearly forced him to pass out as his arm began to enlarge, growing twice as thick before a line etched itself into his shoulder. After a few more seconds, to his horror, the line opened wide, revealing a massive crimson eye.

Elum huffed, but didn't fall over, placing his hand against the door before reaching for the Golden Flame- it still wasn't there, but something else was, cold and lifeless… another fire. The Silver Flame filled him, nearly freezing his skin to cracking, at least it felt like it was so. He attempted to build a House, but found that it was impossible. The Silver Flame had no houses, it needed no such things.

Elum willed acid and it appeared, eating through the door in mere seconds before he stepped out into the hall, the Silver Flame filling him with immense power. Two dwarves that stood guard at the end of the decrepit hall aimed rifles at him, ordering him to fall to the ground… but Elum merely waved his hand. Balls of acid fell down on top of their heads, eating through their helmets instantly. They fell down in a scrambling slag of flesh and metal. He hardly felt anything at seeing the multi-colored puddle they became, mind foggy as he waved his hand once more, conjuring acid to melt down every door in the hall.

Alistair stepped over the melted slag, blinking in shock before he spotted Elum, "You busted us out!?" He asked happily, "Good work! Get these cuffs off me, Baomiel wants to get his hands on these squat freaks."

Elum stared for a moment before he waved his hand, the Silver Flame making short work of the lock on the suppressor cuffs. They fell to the ground uselessly, and Alistair grinned, conjuring forth Baomiel. At the same time Twindil emerged from her cell, looking confused. 

"We're free? But how?" Twindil asked. "Elum, was it you?"

He nodded, thoughts still muddy as he also undid her cuffs. 

"Are you alright?" She asked him, concerned.

"...I-"

"Evacuate and lay low, one of the prisoners has escaped. Fanged Guard en-route and on the hunt, have no fear." A voice echoed through the hall, coming from one of those damn boxes.

How did they find out so quickly? No matter, it was time to go. Elum didn't manage to finish his reply before Theopalu and Kid'ka emerged, the latter shocked at the sudden freedom, while the former… he simply stared at Elum. The elder elf's eyes were narrowed, suspicion clear in his gaze, and Elum didn't need a Dok'ah to see that much. The old man suspected something was wrong. Seeing this, the eye of his arm shut tightly, though it was too late. Surely everyone had seen it by now. 

"Let's get the others." Elum said in a sleepy tone, "Michael, Cat, and Lance. They haven't come out yet."

"I suspect, because they are no longer here." Theopalu told him, his gaze lingering on his arm, "Probably moved, let's see if we can find them while we make our escape."

"A fools errand." His arm warned, "We are in no condition to challenge the vampire lords, we will retreat back to the surface, all of us… I will ensure that your vengeance is attained, Kazon will not stand a chance against us when we master the Silver Flame; of that I assure you."

Elum shook his head, "We can't leave… we have to find the others." He said.

His arm didn't answer, instead, Theopalu replied, "We'll search the cells quickly, we have no more time. No doubt Fanged Guard are on their way- we don't want to be caught by their ilk, trust me."

Elum watched as Kid'ka ran down the hall, checking rooms before he quickly came back, shaking his head. "No one's in the side- inside." He corrected, "Moved."

Theopalu nodded, "Then we must be off, be ready for the fight of your lives." He told them, "If we can't find the others, then don't bother looking. They're already dead. Best thing to do is move on and look out for ourselves."

"I refuse to leave this wretched place without them. They've been our companions-" Twindil began.

Elum grit his teeth, "Lance seemed more than willing to sell us out. Let her rot, I don't care." He told her honestly, "I'm not risking my neck for her, for Hoplite, or for any of his Outworlder friends." The arm approved of this reasoning, based on the warmth that travelled up his arm subsequently down his spine. 

"Lance sold us out? How do you know that?" Twindil asked.

How had he known? His arm offered no explanation, but he knew that somehow the being had funneled the information over. He shook his head and announced, "We're going, now."

Elum then raised his hand, now noticing the blood trickling down his nose. He used the Silver Flame to pinpoint exactly where it was his and his companions gear was being held. Somehow, his arm knew exactly where to look. It and the Silver Flame were connected in some way. 

He snapped his fingers and their surroundings shifted in an instant. Before them lay a room filled with containers, a workshop by the looks of things. Various dwarves clad in oil-stained aprons and greasy goggles looked at them in shock, jaws trembling. 

How… how had he gotten here again? His head ached as more blood flowed from his nostrils, nearly invisible against his skin. H-Hoplite had been in this very room before, his arm knew that… it also knew that Elum, and likewise, his companions gear was in this very chamber. He had somehow managed to bring the others with him, everyone gasping in shock- save for the wretched elf Theopalu, who merely continued to stare at his arm.

"You will be my most powerful vessel yet, We will do good works, you and I. Soon I will have my body returned to me, and the Pillar-Gods will weep at my ascent!" It declared excitedly, "Ahkoolis has returned!"