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"That was uncalled for," Zim said, flicking the spittle from his robes. "I did not expect such resistance from the likes of you. If you refuse to speak, then we probe deeper." He waved his hands, and a blazing spear shot forth, piercing Kru’s eyes. Zim cried out as his own hand burst into flames.

The pain tore through Zim’s arm. Gritting his teeth, he willed an ice spell to douse it away. The flames resisted at first and then slowly gave way to the cold. Zim’s heart raced and the pain, the biting pain, lingered. Cradling his arm, he stepped away from the man on the table. "What... are you?"

Kru laughed. Weak and unmoving, yet his eyes burned bright as he turned his head to Zim. “My secrets are my own. Only I am worthy to save us all. Remove my blocks, and I will teach you things. You are but a child, too blind to see.” Zim sank back into a chair, staring as the wild man laughed on.

Zim watched as the crazy man’s laugh became a chuckle and slowly died on his lips. The man slept, Zim still watched. His mind ablaze with what his probing had found, he searched corridors of his memory for a solution, an understanding. In a window above the sun set, and Zim watched and wondered.

"Excuse me, my liege." The timid voice broke Zim's trance. He turned to Archivarius Aza, her light blue robes hanging neatly. Hair bound back, a satchel over her right shoulder that burst with scrolls and loose papers, more still in her hands. Waiting patiently at the door as if afraid to enter.

"Aza, come in. Your records may give me the insight I need." Zim rose and waved. Mists formed a round, sturdy table smelling of old oak. He tilted his head, crossed his arms, and waited. "It took a while," she said, as the contents of her arms spilled on the table, "but what I found is horrifying."

"How so?" Zim asked. "Records show the last man in cell 9 was meant for cell 8, but a vague fuss put him their," Aza said, sliding papers across the table. "To the point Aza. Who do you believe this man to be?" "This is Kru. Kru the Red, taker of flesh, the bane of Troth," she whispered, eyeing Kru.

Kru's eyes bolted open. That voice! He sought it, afraid to move. Foolish Zim and a girl were talking. Zim was arrogant, his very stance offensive. She was soft, demure, head tilted regarding Zim. He looked away, and her eyes turned to Kru. A red flash, a burning, tore through him. Kru shrieked!

“What’s wrong with him?” Zim said. Waving his hands, mist formed, binding Kru in straps. He floated back onto the table. “I know not my lord.” Ava replied, her voice low. Kru’s eyes shot wide. He thrashed against his bonds, to no avail. “Kru the Red is evil. Bound, I caution even you my lord.”

"Your warning is well deserved, Ava," Zim said. He walked to a shelf, pulling tomes. Each floated before him with a flick of a finger. He continued, "I recall a tale before Kru the Red. Kru the Sovran Thaumaturgist. Last to achieve such rank. If memory serves, he was obsessed with the study of Jur.”

"Like you, my lord?" Ava asked. "My interests are a side study. Jur built wonders and hid them. If I found them, I would use them.” Kru convulsed on the table, back arching. "Mine! The legacy is mine! You cannot fathom the depths you pry at! My power, my knowledge or Jur will destroy us! Return me!"

“You found something? Jur designed the castle's base, where the cells lie. 9 was his number of power.Thought it silly, but had the brute look. There's more. What do you know?” Kru thrashed. He’d given too much. Only he should know. What did he know? He'd found nothing; knew nothing more. Or did he?

All Kru knew was the cell. Gone there seeking Jur, but no mark was to be found. Each detail known: A door, ledge for a bed, sloping floor, a hole, the shape of water. In his mind, each one became like a line on a piece of paper. For the first time he saw it all, he saw Jur, and he started to cry.

It was right there. It was there. He was right. He needed to go back. He turned his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. They were his only hope, this fool Zim and the—other. He would play them, work their feeble minds, control them. He needed one more thing—one thing to make it all work. Magic.

"Send me back!" Kru whimpered. "When I'm there, my mind clears, and I see the horrors I've done. I deserve my penance! It's just—so incredibly dark. Give me a spark, a single spark, to see by! Then leave me be." Ava's hand found Zim's shoulder, her eyes pleading. “Can we not show mercy my lord?”

Who was this man, this wretch, to make such requests of Zim? Zim would do as he pleased. The idea rattled in his head, but his outrage calmed, replaced with—caring? He nodded and looked at Ava. “Perhaps you are right. This man, a beast now, has no answers. Perhaps we can show him a shred of mercy.”

“Your magic cannot be returned. However, I grant you this.” Zim touched Kru’s hand and a symbol appeared on the back. Kru’s eyes went wide, warmth rushing over him—that tingling, that sensation of power running through his veins. Oh, how he missed it. “A simple reading light rune. May it serve.”

"Ava, call the brute. Return this thing to its proper place. I'm done." "Yes, my lord." Ava murmured, slipping out. Kru had done it! He held still, the knowledge, the new power, threatening to burst free! No one else could know, no one else was worthy. Jur's portal summoned him; he would answer.

Tam entered the room. The place was too large, unsettling; it made his neck hair prickle. He didn’t recall leaving, so why was he here? “Take this one back to the cells. Care for him. Report his condition. I would know how he survives.” Zim said. Tam nodded, lifted the man, and made for the door.

As the brute left, Kru slung over his shoulder, Ava stood in the door. She nodded, mouthing a silent “thank you,” and then vanished. Zim’s eyes glazed over, mind hazy. He shook his head as Kry entered, breaking his trance. The old, plump woman had a small, crumpled scroll clutched in her hands.

Tam walked down the stairs, liking down more than up. Less work. Good. The guy on his shoulder squirmed, giggled. He was annoying, and Tan didn’t like that. Tam stopped, looked around—nobody. He pivoted. The guy's head cracked off the wall, body went limp. That was better. Simple. Tam liked simple.

Kru's eyes opened, goosebumps pricking his skin. Rough stone floor ripping at his clothes. He rolled to his knees, smiling, awash with joy. A pat on his hand and the light rune filled the room like a candle. His heart pounded. A chill ran down his spine. Eyes widened, darting around. Kru screamed!

Punching the door, his knuckles ripping and tearing. Grabbing the small barred window. Across the hall was cell 9. He shoved his arm through, reaching, screaming for the guards. It was no use. Kru fell to the ground, exhausted. The light rune faded. Alone in the darkness, a whisper began to laugh.