One hour in, and he still has that smug smile on his face. Ivan observed Sable from the other side of the glass in the interrogation room. From its stark white interior to its headache-inducing lighting, everything in that room was designed to invoke the most discomfort and distress without intruding upon basic human dignity.
And yet, the Weaver remained unfazed. Despite being stripped of his flashy robes for a humble pale smock, he sat in his arm and leg restraints like a proud king, and the two dark-haired Inquisitors berating him were just peasants asking him pointless questions. He simply fluttered his eyelashes and repeated, "I don't recall."
Ivan grumbled and looked up at the circular analog clock hanging on the wall behind him. It was 7 am, and he barely got any sleep. Too busy dealing with that Weaver and filing paperwork for Uncle. He turned to Iker, who was hunched over the desk containing a control panel for the room's lighting, microphone, and speaker system.
A red shine from the buttons on the panel formed a highlight on the edge of his square jaw. His chair remained untouched, as well as his coffee, which grew stale after sitting there for an hour.
Iker kept silent, his focus drawn to the Weaver in the other room. "This is going nowhere." He pressed the 'on' button for the mic and ordered, "Vasco and Nikola, get in here!"
Iker waited for two men to enter. They were both in their early 20s and possessed the standard black hair, broad shoulders, and square jaw of most Inquis. Ivan's silver hair and leaner build were an exception. Vasco, however, was slightly shorter than his cousin Nikola and was more slovenly. Stray strands of hair fell from his wavy side part. On the other hand, Nikola was sleek like an eel and appeared to starch every part of his uniform, including the unseen parts.
Once they arrived, Nikola locked the door behind them while Vasco gave Iker a shrug. "No luck. He is willing to fall on a sword for his master."
Nikola remained in front of the door with his arms folded behind his back. "It also appears that he was trained for this, which isn't surprising for Weavers who did some military service."
Iker grunted. "His devotion to his master is admirable if only he applied the same to the Empire." He glanced at Sable again. "We are going to let him stew for two hours and let Sully have a go at him. Ivan will assist."
Sully! The mention of his name made everyone in the room, minus Iker, jump out of their skin. Ivan noticed sympathetic glances from Nikola and Vasco.
A chill came over Ivan. "Pardon?"
"You will be there to take notes while your cousin makes him more compliant. This Sable fellow becomes more talkative whenever you are around, and he might finally let something slip."
"I– understood."
Ivan's reluctant pause before his reply was not missed, and Vasco gave him a nervous laugh. "Remember, you're not the one in the chair this time."
The corner of Ivan's lips twitched before he forced a smile, and then he sat down in one of the chairs in front of the control panel. It still does not stop the flashbacks from popping up. I like Sully, but he is a menace. Even during training simulations, he gets too enthralled and becomes troublesome.
A tall, ghoulish-looking man displaying pasty-white skin and a sleek ponytail promptly entered with an old leather bag. His dark, deep-set eyes accounted for everyone in the room before he greeted Iker with a handshake. "Master Iker, you called."
"Yes, Ivan caught a Weaver behind on his fees and accused of poisoning his apprentices. We have enough evidence to pin it on him after we searched his hideout in the woods. We need you to convince him to give up his master and tell us what he did with the victims' aether hearts."
Sully studied Sable like a butcher deciding the grade on a cut of meat. The Weaver was now whistling a giddy tune, and Sully briefly hummed along with a smile. "Charming looking fellow, isn't he? It has been a while since I've seen a common-born Weaver. He could be eating them."
Cannibalism! Ivan clenched his jaw, and his head swiveled to Sable's direction. Could he really be that mad? "Isn't that a bit of a jump?"
Sully's eyes locked on Ivan, and he began to inch his way towards him.
I should have kept quiet.
After stroking his chin in thought, Sully gently placed an intrusive hand on Ivan's shoulder. "Well, it is an assertion, but there was a case near the capital of a Weaver selling pills made from aether hearts he harvested from his apprentices. He hailed it as a natural remedy for Black Heart disease and AeDD."
Ivan could feel bile coming up his throat. "I understand those are debilitating Weaver diseases, but to–" He shook his head and refused to think anymore about it.
Sully chuckled and rubbed Ivan's shoulder. "Despite receiving your badge, you are still a mere fledgling. I've seen worse, but that case was certainly up there."
Iker hummed. "It is possible, but we currently don't have any evidence of that. Find the truth like you always do."
Sully's dark eyes sparkled, and he gave him a large smile that blended into his skin. "I will do my best, Master Iker." His hand slipped down from Ivan's shoulder, and he gave him a tight side hug. "Come on. We shouldn't keep our friend waiting."
***
I forgot how stale the air was in here. Ivan followed Sully into the interrogation room, rolling a wooden cart painted with the same white hue as the room. Sable perked up upon seeing them. I guess he was getting bored.
He greeted them with a smile dripping with malice. "Oh, so you finally brought a Mindrattler to interrogate me. Sadly, this one lacks his family's abilities."
Sully glanced at Ivan before addressing their prisoner with a cheerful smile. "Good day to you. I have been entrusted with accompanying you today. Ivan is here to assist me. He needs the experience. As a master who had several young charges under your care, I trust you understand."
"Y–yes." Sable looked at the leather bag suspiciously.
Sully dropped it on the table and pointed for Ivan to prepare the tools of his trade.
Swiftly, Ivan pulled out several brown translucent glass bottles. Antiseptics, anesthetics, pain-enhancers…These are downright nasty. He then placed two syringes, gauze, a scalpel, and a flesh knife on the metal tray. Following it up with a bone saw that Sully promptly removed from his grasp.
"This one is my favorite to use on the living." Sully caressed the saw with his thick, gloved hand. "Which one is yours? Judging by the cuts you made on your victims, my guess is the scalpel. "
Ivan noticed a look of mild concern forming a crack in Sable's blasé persona. He got the syringe ready. "I would comply if I were you."
"As if I would take advice from a neutered mutt living among a pack of mongrels!" Sable's green eyes turned into pinpoints, and he gnashed his teeth. "Heaven-cursed, aetherless cattle! You think you have the right to look down on me just because our spineless Emperor gave you a badge and a title!"
"I can and I surely will, Oathbreaker!" Ivan answered coldly. "You betrayed the Empire that nurtured your talents and awarded you with honor and riches according to your title as a General Weaver. And just as heinous, you violated the trust between an apprentice and his master, which is considered a sacred bond among Weavers."
"I did no such thing." Sable scoffed. "An apprentice's duty is to his master. If my master says kill. I kill. If he tells me to kowtow on rice until my legs bleed, I gladly will. And even if he asks me to die. I will ask in what manner. I already told you, cur. I no longer serve this pathetic Empire filled by insects and decadent fools. "
"You might be fine with poisoning yourself for your master, but what about your former apprentices? From what I overheard from your conversation with that boy, he did not seem fully aware of the gravity of what you were asking him."
Sable's eyes drifted past Ivan to Sully. "I might have withheld some things from him, like I'm sure your master does to you. Though my time with them was brief, they died for a good cause. I don't care what you do to me! My master has given me a purpose, and it will come to fruition. Stopping me isn't going to do a thing!"
Sully looked upon the Weaver curiously. "What is this purpose? If it is inevitable, it should not make a difference if you tell us?"
"You'll see." Sable hissed through his teeth.
"Very well." Sully barely hid the mirth in his voice, causing Sable to grow redder from frustration. He inched closer to the Weaver with the saw, and Sable's bravado further waned.
Hrmph, this sounds less like a threat and more like he is trying to soothe his nerves. But I guess there is no shame in it. Sully is more than a match for most people.
Sable struggled in his restraints, trying to shake Sully off of him when the man used his shoulder as an armrest. "Ivan, help our guest get comfortable. We are going to be here for a while."
"Yes." Ivan grabbed a bottle of antiseptic, bandages, and gauze and prepared Sable's arm for his cousin's signature bird-singing drug cocktail.
In the meantime, Sully continued to entertain his captive audience with conversation.
Ivan briefly snuck a glance at Sully, taking in his cousin's suppressed, twisted smile, before his gaze shied away back to his work. He always treats his interrogations like a spectacle. It is unsettling to watch, but there is no denying his effectiveness.
"Sable, my good man. I have a fascination with magic. As a skilled Weaver, would you mind sharing your professional opinion on a technique I'm working on?"
"Magic! Weaving is a respectable field of science! " His voice cracked as he recoiled in his chair with disgust.
Sully minimized the Weaver's protests with a hand wave. "Right. Sure." He dragged his words as Sable continued to seethe. "But, it can look like magic to those who don't understand."
"Idiots, you mean." The Weaver winced when Ivan stuck him with the needle. "Hngk, why should I bother explaining it to s–simpletons?" Sable's words began to slur, and he fought to keep his eyes open. "If—f you are going to kill me– get on– with it."
"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Sully got off his shoulder. "But sadly, you are
entitled to a speedy trial and to be judged by your peers like everyone else. " He flashed a devilish grin that made both Sable and Ivan uneasy. "We aren't animals. There is a civilized way of doing things. But back to my request, you see I fancy myself as an illusionist…"
After the Weaver finally dozed off, Ivan blindfolded him and set up the next stage of Sully's act. He glanced over at Sully, whose grin grew larger.
That is not a smile you would want to see, before you fall asleep— or wake up. Ivan's eyes drifted back to Weaver, whose head slumped on his shoulder, and his mouth hung agape. Coupled with the drugs, he must be experiencing lucid nightmares.
Ivan readied the bandages as Sully released Sable's right hand from the restraints. Something about his cousin's inhuman smile caused a past image to flash through his mind and made his stomach churn. He always says performing 'magic tricks' for rogue Weavers is a highlight of his workday, and the look on their faces after being humiliated by a non-Weaver is the richest delicacy. I do somewhat agree…
Ivan watched his cousin rub the unconscious Weaver's hand in the same manner a farmer's wife would pet a chicken, before she snaps its neck. But this current trick of his is a perfected version of a ploy he made for me on the fly during my prisoner of war training. Even though I could not believe Uncle would allow me to be subjected to such abuse, there were some moments when he almost got me.
Unfortunately for Sable, he does not know all the limits placed on us, and even if he did, his addled mind would not allow him.
Sable groaned as his consciousness returned to him. A thick blindfold covered his face, and his shoulder had a wet patch of drool.
"He is coming around." Sully motioned for Ivan to get into his position behind Sable's chair for the grand reveal. "Go, hurry."
Sable's head slowly tilted up, and Sully attentively watched him like a trapper waiting for an aimless rabbit to get caught in a snare."So what do you think of my work?"
Sable remained silent for a while, as his senses slowly returned to him. "What–"
He gave out a nervous laugh. "So you just knocked me out and blindfolded me. Some trick, you will need to do more than that to intimi–date— intimin–"
A small smile appeared on Sully's face, and he leaned in closer. "Ah, did you notice something different? Something missing?"
Sable began to shake uncontrollably. "What did you do?!"
"Ivan, do the honor."
After a nod, Ivan removed the blindfold, and a loud, ear-piercing cry rang out throughout the room.
"Ahhhh! My hand! What did you do to my hand?!" Sable wailed in horror at what he viewed to be a bandage stump soaked in blood.
Of course, it is still there. He just can't feel it or think straight because of the drugs in his system. Sully has such a sick sense of humor.
Ivan's ghoulish cousin held back a laugh.
He got the reaction he wanted.
Sure enough, Sully's eyes lit up with glee. "I made it disappear. See, it is a wonderful trick. I call it the One-Winged Crow. Spectacular, isn't it!"
Sable sobbed, snot dribbled out of his nose. "You can't do this to me! You-you don't have the right!"
"Ohh, but I do! What do you think, Ivan?"
Ivan left his position behind Sable's chair to stand beside Sully. He gave the Weaver a look of disgust. "What good are your hands if you are going to use them for evil?"
"You!" Sable switched from grief to rage. "You are a great disgrace to your father's legacy. How did the son of someone my master respected end up this way?!"
His master is a fan of my late father. That hardly narrows it down.
"As you correctly deduced back in the forest, I was abandoned by them and then was left in the care of my mother's family after they discovered that I was a non-aetherian. What do you want me to do? Grovel and beg them to accept me? Praise highly of them when they don't give me a second thought?" Ivan turned up his nose. "I am an Inquis and I am proud to serve the Empire as an Inquisitor. Now, if you don't want to experience another one of my cousin's magic tricks, I suggest that you answer our questions. Who is your master?"
Sweat and tears poured down Sable's face, and he struggled to continue as his breath shook. "Dogs, I wish that I live to see the day when you all are snuffed out."
"Oh, he still isn't receptive," Sully sighed and shook his head. "Ivan, help him out."
Sable quivered after he was given another dose. "Gnk, pus-eating –" His cursing was muffled by Sully's gloved hand gripping his face.
"Before I reveal my Crooked Legged Crow trick, and further decrease your usefulness for your dear master, I will give you another chance." He gently swayed Sable's head back and forth. "Your master is a friend of Winston. Is he one of the Sublime Weavers? Is there a traitor within their ranks? Or is he a close former colleague of his?"
Sable's deafened protests ceased, and Sully released his hold, causing his head to fall below his shoulders like a block of lead. Sully leaned in closer. "Is it Sageman?"
Sable raised his head and gave him a glare of overwhelming hatred and fear. "You have no right to say his name, wretch."
Sageman! Ivan frowned, and a mild look of concern appeared in his eyes. What is my dad's old partner doing back in Nivilies?
"Ah, finally, we are getting somewhere. So your master is Sageman."
"I didn't say that!" Sable blurted out with a look of terror in his eyes.
Not convincing. Ivan got his notepad ready.
Sully stroked his chin and circled Sable like a shark that smelled blood in the water. "You are Sageman's apprentice? By how artless your cuts were on those corpses, he must have lowered his standards."
Sable remained silent, but he simmered in distress, and his gaze shifted between Ivan and Sully.
Both of them encroached on his personal space, making him feel more trapped. Sully pressed down on his right hand. "Now, what can you tell me about Sageman's plan?"
The speaker clicked on, and a frantic, pained voice pleaded, "Sully! Take Ivan and get—gk!" After a loud cry, silence returned to the room.
Vasco? Ivan instinctively moved towards the interrogation control room's door, but Sully caught his arm.
"Wait!" Sully pulled him back.
"Let go! We need to–"
Suddenly, the glass window of the interrogation room shattered from a human-sized projectile. Nikola's bloodied form plummeted to the tiled floor with a hard thud and rolled to a stop.
"Nikola!" Ivan met resistance from his cousin, pulling on his sleeve, preventing him from checking on their fallen kin.
He heard Sable give out a weak chuckle. "It appears that my wish has been granted."