#ooooh we're really getting somewhere now lads

[the-giant-prisoner]

Forming the Bond

“We need to get close to the giant.” 

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Spara was right; this was insane. Not only were they dealing with a giant unpredictable beast, but the stakes were high if they were caught as well. Marshall shuddered at the prospect of yet another round of Calder’s wrath. 

“The coast is clear.” Marshall whispered, leading the charge regardless. His keen eyes peered around corners, checking for any of the royal guards on their patrols near the cavern entrance. Marshall waved Spara on, the two young men keeping a keen ear out for any unexpected visitors in the night. It seemed lady luck was on their side; they reached the caverns without any interference. Both crept down the staircase, footsteps light and not making a peep. Just before the stairs opened up into the ledge, they paused.

“Do you think it’s awake?” Spara whispered.

Marshall listened intently, shaking his head. “It’s asleep.” After all, he had grown quite used to the creature’s snores when flanking the slumbering beast on the way back to the city.

Sparta nodded, murmuring under his breath and letting an orb of light appear in his palm to see and confirm the report. The giant was slumped against the back wall, dead to the world as its chest continued to blow huge gusts of air on a whim. 

“Be careful.” Marshall warned. Spara scoffed; he was always careful. 

The cavern walls were decorated with several ledges like the one the boys were standing on, winding all around the perimeter for previous access to prison cells. With the new renovations, several of the pathways lower down had been cut off, limiting the amount of danger Kitlevians would hopefully face. 

The current ledge Spara travelled along was at the same level as the giants head, craned back in a way where the giants head rested against the wall and the pathway led to an exposed space behind the giants neck. 

Spara’s hand went to his knife, the usually brave prince feeling on edge as he felt surrounded with the giants head forming a roof above. This close, spara could hear the giants every movement. The shifting in is sleep.  The growling of its stomach. The hitching of its breaths.

Wait… Spara listened closer, confirming that the breathing had become uneven, almost as if the creature was crying in its sleep. Was the beast having a nightmare? What could be so terrible that it frightened a beast?

Unfortunately, Spara might be about to find out. 

“Here goes everything.” Spara murmured, putting up mental barriers to protect his own sanity. If this went poorly, Spara could lose himself. He tried not to think of all the other horrible things that could go wrong- what if the giant woke up?

But Spara was not going to sit by and let the kingdom fall to ruins. He would discover the beasts plot himself, his curiosity was too strong.

“You better not drive me insane.” Spara hissed, before placing his shaking palm against the beasts neck.

Instantly, Spara was flooded with an overwhelming amount of information. This was not the mindless bleating thoughts of a sheep; this beast had thoughts, dreams and sentience all so complex and foreign Spara feared he may drown trying to make sense of it all.

Spotting something familiar, Spara dragged himself into the memory of when the giant first woke up in the caves. Watching the events unfold from the eyes of the giant this time, Spara could feel the emotions of the beast: indignation, wrath, and most prominently, fear.  Spara shuddered, feeling as though a fear so great might overwhelm him entirely.

Spara dug further, trying to get a sense of where all this fear was coming from. He saw Magdalene, hovering food and water barrels towards him in offering, but Spara felt more scorn for her than usual. Over and over the glowing orbs of the cavern seemed tied to the giant's hatred as well. Why? Why?

“Dect dectla teche.” 

It felt like an answer, but Spara didn’t understand what it meant. He dug further, looking back into the giant’s past, only confused further by the images which came to surface.

“Laureli Huilou Valentine!” An unfamiliar elderly figure proclaimed, in a sparkling ballroom the likes of which Spara had never seen. Laughter. Faces, familiar to the giant but not to the Kitlevian. A golden crown was offered to Spara, but before he could take it the memories shifted.

A great scaly beast. A girl dressed in pink petals. A great crackling noise, the ground beneath Spara falling away to send him plummeting into a glowing chasm-

“Magic is dangerous.”

Spara gasped, stumbling out of the connection and falling with a lack of grace onto the ledge beneath him. Spara knew with complete certainty that memory hadn’t been spoken in Kitlevian. But then … 

It seemed Spara wasn’t the only one jolted out of the connection. The giant above him shifted, letting out a loud groan. Spara froze, terrified as the gargantuan person before him shifted without any knowledge of his presence. 

It seemed as if time stood still for a moment, Spara still feeling the after effects of the fear inside the giant’s mind. He trembled, begging whoever was listening that the giant wouldn’t find him in such a vulnerable state.

Thankfully, while startled by the connection break, the giant didn’t seem to notice the mental (or physical) intruder; with a sigh, he slumped back once more, sending some rock debris scattering down onto Spara.

Spara flinched, stuck trying to process out his next move as he listened to the giants breathing and even out in sleep once more. Waiting longer than was strictly necessary, Spara crept out along the edge, hurrying back to his worried friend.

“Magic.” Spara declared. “He’s scared of magic.”