Iliyal went into Ilwin's room and sighed. How many descendants had he outlived now? There was too many to count, although he could remember all their names.
Ilwin woke up to a cell. A prison cell, he had been in a few before, this one did not stand out in any way. Tall grey walls, a single lamp on the ceiling. A toilet sequestered off by a low wall. A sink. The elf quickly patted his clothes, they had left him in his black suit, but his pockets had been emptied. The daggers were gone, the sword removed, all that remained was a small leather ring on his belt which should have held a sheathe.
He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. Cold blue eyes under blonde hair stared back at him. How did it go badly? Everything had been planned. They knew when the planes would be fuelled up. They… his mind went to that woman. She had to have been a Goddess.
The cell door suddenly opened to reveal a human. A guard, in his blue shirt and armour. There was a stunning club on his belt, Ilwin put any ideas of trying to overpower the man out of his head when he saw four other men peek at him from the doorway. “You’re wanted.” The man said. “Turn around, I’ll cuff you.”
Ilwin rolled his eyes and let himself be cuffed. There was little to be done in a situation . He walked through a corridor lit only bright LED lights and into a nearby room. A glass wall on side, dark from this side, a tall table in the middle with two metal chairs: an interrogation room if he had ever seen one.
The guards cuffed him to the table and left without a word. Ilwin sat there for a minute, ten, twenty. Did they hope to break him by making him wait? On humans maybe but elves were far more patient than that. Give him a year and then he might think about talking.
His boredom ended when the door opened again. Ilwin had expected a human or an elf. A dwarf would surprise him, but it wouldn’t make him gawk. In the doorway stood that woman from the runway. Her cheeks pale, her golden eyes morose, her golden hair falling loosely over her shoulders. She wore a simple shirt and she was tall.
Taller than him, by a noticeable amount at least. She smiled and sat down opposite Ilwin, her eyes looking at his as if she could see the intricacies of his soul. Finally, she spoke. “I am Leona, Goddess of Luck.”
Ilwin blinked. He would have fallen over where he not sat down. A Divine? A Divine for him? He wasn’t this important, was he? He remained silent, that was always the correct play to do when dealing with the cops. Leona watched him for a few seconds before speaking again. “I know you’re not Anarchia’s men.” She began slowly, Ilwin gave no reaction. This was standard practice, for the interrogator to lie and then get you to confirm the lie. Leona’s golden eyes hovered over Ilwin again and then she sighed. “I’ve not read you your rights yet, this conversation is off the record.”
“I apologize, but that’s rather difficult to believe.”
“I’m a Goddess, if I point my finger at you then no amount of laws can save you.” Ilwin merely chuckled. Was he supposed to be scared of that?
“Will more attacks come?” Leona asked and Ilwin shrugged. “I’m not asking you to snitch on the people you’re with, I’m asking to save innocent lives.” Ilwin shrugged again. This woman wasn’t an interrogator, he was in the hole now, he might as well die with dignity.
Leona shook her head, her loose strands of golden hair arranged themselves as if they had just been brushed. “What do you want then?” Ilwin shrugged.
“To walk out of here.” It wasn’t a demand, it was simply a statement to show there was nothing she could offer.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Then there’s nothing to discuss.” Leona shook her head again.
“There are two ways this can end.” She began, Ilwin merely leaned back and crossed his arms. This was a Goddess? A Divine? Out there, she had been incomprehensible. He was sure that the plane failed to set off because of her, it could never be him. The plan was perfect, the execution was perfect too. Failure only happened because of the variables he had failed to account for.
Now she was worse than a novice interrogator. Did she actually expect him to become a rat simply because of her authority? He had pledged allegiance to the God of Pride. What was this? “What ways?” Ilwin asked, his tone twice as hard as Leona’s.
“One.” Lady Luck smiled like a little girl. “You tell me what you know and I hand you off to the Karainan authorities. Escape should be far easier from there.” Ilwin could not contain his mocking laughter.
“You mean, set a trap in some prison with us a bait. Understood, and the next option?”
“It’s not a trap whatsoever. I mean it.” Ilwin rolled his eyes. Maybe some Gods were honest out there, but even Arascus kept secrets from his own men. He could not conceive of a single world where he would actually take Leona up on that offer.
“If I can’t interrogate you, because of the nature of the grievous crime and the fact a Divine was directly involved, it is under my authority to serve as Divine Justiciar here and sentence you to imprisonment in Olympiada.”
Despair hit Ilwin like a cold shower. A rain that had come on suddenly to wipe away any sort of optimism he may have been feeling. Olympiada was a death sentence. A mountain with a one-way staircase.
He had tried to take the poison pill back on the plane but it had slipped out of his pocket. The same scenario happened to a great many of his men. He stared at Leona, Goddess of Luck, from across the table.
Of all Gods, it was the one Arascus and Iliyal had brought up most in their discussions. Allasaria could be stood against, Maisara could be outwitted. Elassa’s magic had rules. Luck though… Luck was a miasma in the atmosphere that touched and coated everything with it greasy grip.
Leona of Luck had defeated them without so much as lifting a finger. Everything simply went wrong.
And now she wanted him to beg?
To cry for freedom? He had already made up his mind to die back on the plane. Did it matter if it was by an executioner’s axe or by a poison pill? He leaned back and shook his head.
“I’ll take Olympiada.”