27. Hanna
As I stare down the darkened passage, a chill crawls up my spine like the legs of a thousand insects. My arms ignite with tremors, I quickly rub them to calm myself down.
My father has to be down there. I just hope he's…
I'm not ready to find a corpse, but I need to find him either way. Swallowing hard, I draw a deep breath and mentally prepare myself.
I put my foot forward, feeling the chill of the cold, hard stone steps even through my sandals.
A sconce unseen to me before suddenly lights up on the wall, then another, then another. It continues deep down the narrow passageway, illuminating a claustrophobic staircase ahead.
Must be lit by some type of magic.
I hesitantly proceed, the smell of mold growing heavy in the air. It's so pungent that I have no choice but to pinch my nostrils shut.
My breath bounces off the walls given how tight it is here. Insects scurry along its surface, coming a bit too close to my face for my liking.
Another door comes into view, aged with rust that's peeling off. I push down on the handle, meeting a resistant force that prompts me to shoulder through the threshold.
Wiping rust off my hands, I step into a pitch-black space, unable to see a damn thing around me.
Then more sconces light up, giving dim light to a vast, open space. It seems bigger than Zathex's house itself somehow.
Strewn around are boxes and barrels, most of which are covered by a tarp. The glow of the flame faintly reflects off of the clouded surface of an ale keg, the faucet is clogged up by something dangerously foul.
"It's too big to be a regular basement," I mutter. "And why would Zathex conceal it behind a secret door? There's something more to this place, he has to be hiding something here."
I turn around, seeing the answer up ahead; a row of abandoned cells. I rush forward, startled by the sight of rotted skeletons in them, rodans scurrying away at my approach.
"Sick bastard," I whisper, disgusted by the sight. "I've got to find my father."
The row of cells extends beyond the corner, confusion hitting me when I come across further storage units and wine cellars.
The place is a maze. I sink against the wall, trying to calm myself down as my breathing becomes erratic.
"What if I get lost here?" I blurt.
Glancing back the way I came, I can see the exit from here but I must go deeper if I'm to find who I've come for.
"I could call out to my father and see if he responds, maybe that'll make finding him easier."
But I immediately pull my father's name back into my mouth, fearing he won't answer, that it might already be too late. I could be calling to a rotting, insect-ridden body.
"Stop," I tell myself, near hyperventilation. "Pull it together. You need to find him and get him out, no matter what happens."
Kazrith, the one demon who has kept me going throughout all of this, flashes in my mind. He has been my strength, my anchor, and my companion.
It's him who is confronting Zathex, the enemy behind all of this madness. I will not let him down by cowering in fear. I'm so much stronger than that.
I get to my feet with a renewed sense of determination, ready to find my father.
My search eventually takes me to another row of cells, the air here especially thick with mold and feces.
I desperately glance in all the cells, finding discarded clothing, more remains, and things I don't even know how to describe.
Then, in the final cell, I spot a silhouette, on his knees with his wrists chained overhead to the wall. My heart stops as I step closer, a sconce on the wall igniting nearby to illuminate the figure.
"Dad!" I cry out.
He doesn't respond. Panic reaches its measly claws at me as I fumble to pick the lock on the cell, but I won't let it have me.
When the lock clicks, I kick the cell door open. It bangs against the concrete wall, its ear-ringing clatter waking my father as he squirms in alarm.
"Ah! No, please!" he yells.
"Dad, it's me!" I exclaim, grabbing his gaunt face. "It's me, Hanna!"
The fear on his face slowly melts away, replaced with fervent shock as he blinks in disbelief.
"Hanna? Is that you? It can't be…"
I pull his head close, resting it on my shoulder as he begins sobbing. I cry with him, my tears running down my face and landing on his unkempt hair.
His howls are heartbreaking to listen to, a little piece of me withering away with each pained cry.
"I never thought I'd see you again," he tells me in short bursts of breath.
He tries to speak coherently but fails as I squeeze him tighter.
"You can cry, it's alright," I say through my own sobs. "I'm here, Dad, I'm not going anywhere."
I can't help but notice how weak he feels in my arms. He has lost weight, a clear sign that Zathex was underfeeding him. From the looks of the food bowls on the floor, my father seemed to have been treated like a wild animal.
He smells as though he has not washed in weeks, though I know it is not the fault of his own. Dirt stains his body, as well as dark, hardened spots of blood.
Bruises sit along his arms and ribcage. I hear him wheeze in pain with every breath he draws.
His prickly stubble rubs against the skin of my arms, irritating me but I don't care. He is beaten up badly, but I'm glad he's alive.
I undo the cuffs chaining his wrists to the wall with my dagger. He falls into my arms, his weakened body a far contrast from the strong gardener I'd come to know.
"You came back for me," he says. "I can't believe it."
"Dad, if you're mad at me for disappearing, I understand," I reply, my voice coated with shame.
"How could I be mad at you? The thought of my dearest daughter was the only thing that's kept me alive this entire time."
We nestle into each other's shoulders.
"I'm sorry I took so long," I whisper, stroking his head.
"Don't apologize," he said, pulling back. "But Hanna, what happened? Zathex came to me and said you abandoned training. I don't believe the asshole, so tell me your side of the story."
As I tell him the story, I clean the dirt from his body using whatever cloth I have on me.
"He tried to coerce me into a relationship with him and I said no. He took that personally and tried to have me enslaved and sold off, but I used my training to escape."
"Clever girl," he says, smiling proudly. "But where did you escape to? New Solas is crawling with more of his kind."
"Well… I ran away to Ikoth."
"Ikoth!"
"Yes, with a demon by the name of Kazrith."
"You mean to say a demon helped you?"
I leave no stone unturned in telling him the details of my time without him. He listens quietly, nodding along as I speak.
"I know what you must think of me, Father. I trained long and hard for my wings, only to end up working with a demon to bring down my mentor. But you must understand he is one of the good ones, he kept me fed and sheltered, and vowed to rid the world of Zathex."
"And what of this demon Kazrith now? Is he here with you?"
"He's confronting Zathex as we speak," I say, glancing upward at the stone ceiling as I imagine a bloodbath battle between the xaphan and the demon.
At the thought of him, my lips prevent any further word from leaving, my tongue curling inside my mouth as I shed another tear.
"What is it?" my father asks. "Hanna, do you think I am angry at you for working with a demon? I assure you I'm not."
"It's…"
"Is coming home not what you wanted to do?"
"No, I did want to come back, especially to see you but…"
My father lays a hand on my shoulder, smiling softly at me.
"Speak to me, Hanna. Tell me what's on your mind and I will listen, as I always have."
I draw a deep breath.
"The demon who rescued me… I've fallen for him, Dad. I know he is a demon but hear me out," I say, wiping the tears from my face. "He's the reason why I'm here, why you're being rescued, and he's treated me better than any xaphan ever has."
I continue throwing out my words as if in defense mode, but my dad simply chuckles and wraps his loving hands around mine, kissing them before they lower down.
"Hanna, I just want to know if he truly makes you happy."
"Yes, more than anything."
He smiles, his next words coming out with love and understanding.
"Well, then that is all I need to know. It never mattered to me who you ended up with, that choice was always yours to make. All that matters to me is your happiness, my dearest daughter."
He wipes a thumb underneath my eye, catching a stray tear.
"Do you really mean that?" I ask. My cheeks feel warm and wet from crying.
"Of course I do, Hanna. All I want is for you to find joy and fulfillment, which we both know is difficult in this world. I'd love to meet this demon, this savior of yours."
I embrace my father who laughs heartily, but I suddenly pull back.
"What is it?" he asks.
"Kazrith is fighting Zathex. I just hope he comes out the victor. I need to tell him how I feel."
My heart holds on to the hope of a future with Kazrith, knowing now that if our mission comes to a complete success, we don't need to go our separate ways.
Come on, Kazrith, win this fight!