Xaidon, though never part of the main family household, knew a considerable amount about them. His father had ensured he was well-informed. The man on the horse was a distant cousin, affiliated with one of the royal families, and served under the fourth prince. Pearl's panic was palpable, suggesting the princes were already aware of Xaidon's existence and sought to eliminate him. She gazed at her son, who was assessing the men behind the horseman. "Don't come out, no matter what." she instructed, before departing without another word. She dismounted the carriage, and the two assigned warriors drew their swords behind her.
As she approached the men, the horseman frowned. "I thought I'd find a boy?" he said. Pearl's desperation was evident in her voice as she asked, "What do you want? Can't you let us leave the empire and never return?" The man paused before bursting into laughter.
"I am Alexander Kin, of the Kin Clan," he declared, puffing out his chest. "I'm afraid I must detain you. I'm merely following orders." The men behind him charged toward the carriage, weapons drawn. Just as violence was about to erupt, Xaidon stepped forward, shielding his mother. "Enough! I'm here." Alexander's gaze swept over Xaidon with cold detachment, and he signaled his men to seize him. Pearl tried to intervene, but her guards restrained her.
As Alexander's men held Xaidon, Alexander scrutinized him before sighing. "I expected more from your father's teachings. Here's a lesson: never surrender willingly to your enemy." His eyes flicked toward Pearl, and Xaidon's gaze followed, seeing the men surrounding the carriage.
With a burst of strength, Xaidon freed himself and swiftly dispatched the man to his right, then blinded and killed the one to his left. He turned toward the carriage, ready to charge, but Alexander's voice stayed him. "Another lesson." A sudden, powerful blow struck the back of Xaidon's head, sending him crashing to the ground. As he lost consciousness, he heard Alexander's voice: "Never turn your back on an enemy."
******
Here's a more detailed rephrasing:
In the dark, dirty, and smelly cell, Xaidon, stripped of his clothes, was chained to the cold wall. As he slowly opened his eyes, he saw a man sitting in front of him, savoring an apple with apparent relish, seemingly unbothered by the grim surroundings. Xaidon's anger surged, and he strained against the chains, desperate to reach the man. Alexander continued eating, his expression calm and detached.
Once finished, Alexander looked at Xaidon with a hint of disappointment, which brought a smile to his face. "Don't worry, soon those chains will be loose, but you won't move," he said, his voice dripping with sinister intent. "Soon the cell gates will be opened, but you won't leave. All in due time." With that, he stood up, turned, and began to leave.
"Where is my mother, you bastard?" Xaidon shouted, his voice filled with desperation and rage. Alexander stopped, turned around with a smile, and said, "With your father." The words hit Xaidon like a blow, leaving him stunned and overcome with shock, disappointment, and self-blame for not protecting his mother. He let out a loud cry, shouting curses and his mother's name in anguish.
The cell door creaked open, and an older man with a pale mask entered, followed by a younger man carrying a bag. The younger man laid the bag on a table, revealing an assortment of weapons. The old man approached Xaidon slowly, his eyes fixed on him with an unsettling intensity. "What sweet and pure blood you have," he whispered, his voice trembling with excitement. "I planned on retiring this year, but then you came along. Oh, what have I done to receive such blessings from the gods?"
As he spoke, the younger man handed him a small needle, which the old man used to pierce Xaidon's chest with ease. Xaidon felt his blood flow slow, his heart rate decreasing. "There we go," the old man said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He picked up a small knife from the table and approached Xaidon. "Let's start small."
The younger man stood by, watching with a neutral expression. With a tiny cut, Xaidon screamed in agony. The old man chuckled, his eyes sparkling with sadistic pleasure. "Oh, sorry. You see, each of these... equipment has negative Qi in them, so even a small cut will feel like being burned alive. And with your slowed blood flow, it will only get better." He paused, studying the knife before continuing, "But worry not, within six months, you'll be an empty shell, knowing only pain."
As the old man's torture continued, Xaidon's screams echoed through the cell, a harrowing reminder of the life he was now forced to endure. At the mercy of a madman, Xaidon was trapped in a living nightmare, subjected to unimaginable pain for reasons he couldn't comprehend.
He had never aspired to the throne, content with living a simple life, free from the intrigue and brutality of royal politics. Yet, his half-brothers saw him as a threat, a potential rival to be eliminated. They had sought him out, determined to ensure he would never pose a challenge to their power. Now, Xaidon was paying the price, his fate sealed in a cycle of suffering and despair.
*******
A year had passed, or so Xaidon thought, trapped in the darkness of his cell, deprived of sunlight and any connection to the outside world. He hadn't seen his mother since his capture, and Alexander's visits had become a haunting routine, devoid of any meaningful interaction. The old man's torture had become a regular occurrence, leaving Xaidon's mind and body shattered.
As he sat in the filth-covered cell, devoid of any chains, Xaidon's thoughts had long ceased to function. The door, though closed, was unlocked, but the idea of escape had lost all meaning to him. He was broken, a shell of his former self, numb to the world around him.
From the shadows, a creature emerged, a massive snake with glistening black scales. It slithered towards Xaidon, its body wrapping around him. Most would have recoiled in fear, but Xaidon remained still, his emotions long since extinguished.
Then, something unexpected happened. He heard a voice, a hiss that cut through the numbness. "Wake up, you sorry excuse for a son." The words echoed in his mind, a spark of something long dormant stirring within him.