Chapter 3: Disarmed

It was dark. Jordan’s ears were ringing. His mind felt hazy.

‘Where…’ Jordan thought as he got up.

Looking around, he realized he was in a jungle, next to a cliff. Moonlight seeped through dark clouds above. As his eyes adjusted, he carefully made his way to the clearing just before the edge, and was able to see an old bridge to his right.

‘What am I doing here?’ Jordan thought. ‘Wasn’t I with someone? Um…’

A twig cracks behind him.

Jordan whirls around. Someone wearing sandals, loose fitting pants, a chainmail shirt, and… huh. Jordan couldn’t see his face. It was just darkness.

“W-who’re you!” Jordan said, raising his voice.

The thing responded by unsheathing its sword. The rasp of the blade echoed in his mind.

Jordan stepped back and tried to bring out his mana as his arms dragged uncomfortably into his fighting stance. He felt so, so weak.

“Stay back!” Jordan screamed, backing up even further. “No! Get away!”

“Alex!” a familiar voice screams behind him.

Jordan’s eyes widen as his head swivels. Peering down the cliff, he sees someone kneeling in the sand next to a bloody headless corpse. He recognizes those two. Ashley and… Alex. His stomach reels, and his head starts pounding.

The thing started laughing. It was a terrible, wailing cackling that filled the forest.

Jordan’s trembling fists let go. His lips quiver as he bursts into tears.

“Please… I don’t want to do this anymore…” Jordan sobbed, holding up his hands and begging the shadow to stop.

His foot brushes a stone off the cliff.

The figure, still laughing, dashes forward and cuts Jordan’s arm off, before kicking him off the cliff.

After screaming and tumbling through the air, Jordan landed behind Ashley and Alex, bouncing and ending up face down in the sand. Looking up, he noticed Ashley’s demolished forearms, torn-through leg, and bleeding back.

The shadowy figure landed in front of Ashley. It strolled right up to her and stabbed her through the throat. A soft voice mumbling something could be heard in the distance.

Jordan closed his eyes and buried his head into the sand. His legs curled up into his chest.

It just walks up, grabs Jordan by his hair and lifts him up. It grabs his face with his other hand, and Jordan feels mana building in its palm.

“Wake up.” The thing whispers.

He opened his eyes.

“Huh. Didn’t think you were actually alive. You weren’t screaming for once. There’s food and water over there, so get up. I’ve gotta dump the bodies and you’re in my way.” the man said, motioning over at a nearby table.

Jordan was slightly confused. It was still dark, but he could see the orange tint of the sun peeking from the horizon. He was still on the cart, but they’ve stopped in a city, it seems. He could hear the incoherent murmur of a marketplace being set up nearby, but he didn’t care about that. He had to eat. Now.

Jordan got up and hopped off the cart. That guard or whatever must’ve cut his bindings before he woke up. Jordan ripped the gag off his face. He was the only one with it, because he’d been apparently screaming in the night.

His head throbbed with every step. He felt like he was forgetting something very important as he walked over towards the table. A hand pulled him from behind.

“Get in line, custer.” the man spat, glaring at him. Two people in front of him chuckled.

Jordan, a little relieved that the last person in line stopped him from embarrassing himself, confused on what a ‘custer’ was, nodded and got behind him. The line proceeded quickly until it was finally Jordan’s turn.

‘Oh my god, my first meal in a week! I’ll eat anything, please just let me-’

Jordan was handed the top half of a burger bun.

He looked quizzically at the server, who tallied something in his notebook, then stared back with an empty expression.

“Um. What is this?” Jordan asked.

“It’s what was on sale. Deal with it.”

“Oh… Okay… Where’s the, uh, water?”

Jordan turned as the server pointed at a nearby well behind Jordan, which had slaves crowding around it. Jordan looked back at the server.

“...”

Jordan eyed the last bun through the see-through bag. He motioned towards it with his eyes, returning the stare each time. The server just kept staring at him.

“Can I uh… you know…”

“...”

“Um … Can I have the bottom half too? Nobody’s even behind me.”

The server shrugged, and handed him it. “Enjoy.”

Smiling, Jordan made his way over to the water, munching his empty burger. It was the freshest, softest, and most delicious bread he’s ever eaten in his entire life.

Three bites in, a slave yells out, “Hey! He got two pieces! What the hell!”

Jordan looked over, and saw three slaves walking over. Two men with average, albeit malnourished builds, and lighter colored skin. One of them was the guy who pulled him in line. The third one was a foot taller than Jordan, with broad shoulders and a strong jaw and luscious hair. Jordan wondered how he kept it so nice, despite their living conditions.

“How’d you get two pieces, kid?” the tallest one asked.

“Well uh… I mean, I just asked. Why?”

“Well… I’m still hungry… and a short lil’ guy like you don’t need so much as a great big guy like me,” he said, smiling.

Jordan could see where this was going. So he shoved the rest of the burger in his mouth and put his fists up.

“Mmph mm mph, vwo!” Jordan said, with full cheeks.

The slave scowled, and said, “Kid, if you’d just given me one-”

Jordan jabbed his nose, interrupting him. Gasps, howls, and cheers ran through the nearby slaves watching them.

Growling, the slave threw a left haymaker at Jordan’s face.

‘Alright, left swing. Textbook self-defense right here. Stop his swing short with your right, then knee him in the d- wait.’

Jordan realized too late that he had no right arm. It was weird how he kept forgetting that. He tried to dodge at the last second by turning his cheek and softening the blow, but the weakness from malnutrition and his bruises from a week ago made him too slow. He subsequently got rocked and spat soggy bread all over the slave’s face.

“Ugh! You little-”

Before he could stomp Jordan out, the two held him back by his arms.

“Damn it, Gaston! Guards said no fighting!” one of them said.

“Tch. Fine.” Gaston said as he walked off, wiping his face.

Jordan lay spread out on the dirt. He sighed, rubbing his bruised cheek. His father taught him to be tough, and that a real man doesn’t bend to pain.

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‘But man, everything hurts.’

Jordan put his arm down and just laid there for a minute. Two minutes. The sky was nice. A face leaned over him. It looked up and looked back down.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“...That cloud? It looks like a fish,” he replied.

She frowned, before looking back up.

“Huh. It does.”

Jordan recognized her as one of the slaves he rode with. The girl was near Jordan’s age and dressed in the same rags as he was. She was short, her skin was brown, and her dark blonde hair was curly and messy. Her figure seemed fit enough, but it didn’t have the muscle and explosiveness that… someone… had. Jordan tried to remember who he was thinking about, as his headache grew stronger.

“Hey, you want some water?”

“...yes.”

“Here.” She placed a cup next to him, and sat down beside him.

Jordan sat up, drinking the cool, refreshing water. His mind cleared as the effects of dehydration fled his body. His eyes practically rolled into his head as they fluttered from the sensation. His ears popped when he gulped it down.

‘My god… this water smacks.’

“Ah… thanks.” Jordan mumbled.

“Mhm.”

The two sat together, cloud gazing. A moment frozen in time, stretched to eternity. Resuming only whenever they went to get more water.

The other slaves waited in a similar fashion. Some talked next to the well, a few walked together around the little campsite. Most just kept silent, sitting or lying down in the grass. They all had their own ways to cope with one fact.

All of them had become slaves.

Property, owned by another. Objects to be bought and sold, to be used. Their lives as humans ended the moment they were caught. Soon, they would spend the rest of their days working and toiling until their bodies gave out. Then, they would be replaced by another.

As dawn turned to dusk, the 20 or so slaves were served another meal. They were each given a potato. Some traded, some just ate them raw, but most had some way of cooking it.

Jordan himself buried his potato with a few other slaves, and they built a sizeable campfire over it. After a few minutes, Jordan retrieved his potato, washed it with some water, and devoured it in 30 seconds.

Jordan’s slave buddy sat next to him and took a bite out of her potato. She had roasted her potato over the fire.

“So… What happened to you?” she asked.

“Well… I was out harvesting mushrooms for my village when I accidentally ate too many and woke up here, I guess. What about you?”

“I… was caught. By the Blue Guard, in Los Muros. I was charged for petty thievery and assault with a deadly weapon. Unfortunately for me, no one paid my bail so I was sold off to these guys.”

Jordan made an acknowledging noise, and looked forward. Los Muros was five days northeast by foot from his village.

“When did they take you?” Jordan asked.

“It’s been two days.”

“Hm.”

Jordan guessed then that they were heading east, to the coast. The other slave caravans must’ve met up and formed one big slave train here, since this town seemed to be on the road to La Entrada, the largest nearby coastal city. From there, they would be taken to the Summit, a construction site funded by the Sol company. They started building it with the intention of turning the mountain into a place of worship. Atleast, that’s what he heard from the other slaves and guards.

Jordan idly wondered if it would ever finish in his lifetime. He heard it’s been under construction for 100 years.

“So, what happened to your arm?” she asked.

“What do you- Oh. Yeah. I lost it, I guess? Maybe a bear ate it? No, that’s not it.”

Jordan’s headache came back as he tried to remember. The girl looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

“You probably lost it if you fought against the slavers,” she offered.

“Yeah… Yeah, that sounds right. Maybe I went into a mushroom-induced berserker rage. That would explain the bruises.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence. With food in his belly for once, Jordan decided to cycle his mana. He felt it crammed in his body, as if he overused it. It would take his mind off the pain, and help speed up the healing process.

He crossed his legs together in a meditation pose. He didn’t really need to do this, but it helped him focus. He closed his eyes.

‘Breathe in.’

As air entered through his nose, a warm tingle erupted from the back of his head. It spread across his head, down his back, through his arm and ended in his fingers.

‘Hold… and… breathe out.”

As air left his lungs, the tingling sensation crawled through his midsection, into the legs and feet. His time slowed.

‘Hold…”

Tension he didn’t know was there faded and relaxed. He felt warm and comfortable, as if he was wrapped in a soft blanket with only his face peeking out, or under a hot shower.

A soft thumping could be heard in his chest. His thoughts grew louder. He repeated the cycle a few more times, and the world around him blurred into a murmur. Mana flowed and concentrated around his heart, draining his body of its excess. As Jordan breathed, he would inhale a small amount of ambient mana to help the flow, and exhale ten times as much of his own mana into the world.

It took about five minutes before Jordan finished purging his body. He opened his eyes and sighed. Even though he felt refreshed and clean, everything still hurt. He wondered why whoever patched him up didn’t bother including painkillers. He was pretty roughed up and his arm fell off, for god’s sake.

Next to him, the girl took a final bite out of her baked potato and stood up. She tucked her arms behind her back as she strolled in front of the boy.

Leaning forward, she asked him, “Hey, can you teach me how to do that? The swirly wind thing?”

‘Swirly wind thing?’ Jordan thought happily. ‘Maybe I’ve gotten stronger than I thought.’

“It was just a mana-cycle. I guess I just had a lot built up.” Jordan replied.

The girl frowned and stood straight. “Yeah, I don’t know what a mana-cycle is. No one actually taught me how to use my mana,” she told him.

“Oh. I’m sorry?” Jordan said apprehensively.

“Yeah, whatever,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Just teach me real quick, please?”

Having nothing else to do, Jordan agreed.

The two sat cross-legged in front of one another, as campfires illuminated their environment and crickets chirped around them. Clouds blocked the moon from lighting the night. Looking closer at her, Jordan realized she was definitely younger than him. Maybe 12 or 13, he guessed. Her face still had traces of baby fat, and her chin was still small.

“So… Can you sense and manipulate mana?” Jordan asked.

She shook her head. “No… I can kind of turn it off though?”

Jordan raised his eyebrow as he felt her mana attune to the ambient mana. She breathed out, and her eyes sharpened. Her presence diminished, and according to his mana sense, there was nothing in front of him.

She shrugged, relaxing. “It helps with stealing stuff.”

“Oh, uh. Okay. It’s a start at least.” said Jordan. “Teach me that later, by the way. Okay, let’s go over the basics.”

Jordan recalled his lessons from the village. His father taught him everything he knew in their backyard. He remembered all the craters he made from getting thrown into the air as ‘fall training’. Thinking about his dad gave him comfort. He missed him, and everyone back home. But there’s no going back. Best to make do with the future.

“First, a lesson on our souls. Every living thing has one, and even some nonliving things, like mountains or robots, have one too. Souls are where mana comes from. So everything that has a soul can use mana.

The girl nodded, and Jordan went on.

“The soul is connected to the body. It’s the force that gives and maintains life. Our heart is the second most important part of our body, and it’s also where the soul is attached. Mana flows through the connection between your heart and soul.

“Our second most important part? What’s the most important part?” the girl asked.

“Our brain of course! It’s practically the king of our body, you know! It keeps everything under control and working. It also learns things and thinks thoughts and makes us emotional and a bunch of other stuff!” Jordan replied - a bit too excitedly, judging from the expression on the girl’s face.

He coughed, and brought his hand in front of his stomach, and a small, humming ball of light rose out.

“Um. Anyways. This is my mana. I pretty much just molded it into a ball and made it flow out of my hand.”

The girl leaned forward, studying the ball. Jordan balanced it on the tip of his finger, before making it whirl around his body. Light and wonder reflected in her eyes as she watched it dance around. Jordan smiled, letting it dissipate into the air.

“Now,” Jordan said, getting up. “I’ll help you sense your own mana. It’ll probably feel strange at first, but you’ll get used to it. Just trust me here.”

“...?”

He placed his hand on the center of her back.

“Get ready,” he warned.

“Wait, get ready for what?” she asked.

Jordan injected her heart with mana, overloading it. The girl’s eyes widened before she doubled over in pain, groaning.

“Now, focus! Understand what I just put inside of you and understand that it flows through you as naturally as the air we breathe.” Jordan said, as he moved his hand to her head.

The girl whimpered, as Jordan injected a little mana into her head. It would enhance her senses and help her think.

“Feel the mana, bend it to your will, and force it out through your lungs. You can do it.”

Panting, she gritted her teeth and put her hands on her chest. She tried taking a deep breath, but started coughing when she exhaled.

“Good, good! I can sense a bit of mana coming out with each breath. Keep it up!”

Her breathing slowed as the amount of mana she released increased. Soon, she was sitting up and taking deep breaths, as she cycled her mana.

When she opened her eyes, she seemed at peace with the world and everything around her. She frowned at Jordan, who just grinned back.

“You should’ve told me it would hurt!” she said, finally smiling. “But thanks.”

“Ha, no problem, um…?”

“It’s Sofia.”

“No problem, Sofia…?” As Jordan said her name, a hand patted his shoulder from behind. He turned around to see a small group of slaves, looking a little nervous and apprehensive.

“Hey, uh… well… Can you, um, teach us that too?” one of them asked.

‘Oh boy.’ Jordan thought exasperatedly.