Nebo

Elryc twisted Nebo's hair in his bony, surprisingly strong fists. “You fucking little wastes of space, I've got you now! Eavesdropping, are we?”

Elka yelped as he rammed her face into the dirt.

“Leave her alone, Elryc! It's my fault, she didn't want to stay here, I was just curious.” Nebo said, trying to pry his hair free from Elryc’s talons.

“Oh please, I don't give a shit about you, the barbarian whore is the older one so she bears the responsibility for your failures as well.” He turned Nebo's face towards his, yanking his hair. “So I'll be taking her with me, now.”

Nebo looked Elryc in the eyes. There was no sign of humanity left in them, if there ever had been. He saw empty, vile hunger, and he knew what Elka would be subjected to if he let him take her away. He couldn't, he'd already been carrying the blame for one innocent life being snuffed out. This would break him.

“What's happening here?” A deep voice said. The Weaver had noticed their scuffle.

Elryc looked at the Weaver, and immediately bowed. “Nothing for you to worry about, my lord. I'll be punishing these ones thoroughly for spying on you.”

“Spying, hm?” He looked at Elka and Nebo. “It matters not, there's not much they could have heard.” The Weaver rubbed his chin in thought, and let his eyes rest on Nebo. “Still, I understand the need for discipline. An arm each should do.”

Nebo's heart sank, and images of what was about to happen to Elka because of him flooded his mind. It was probably better than what Elryc had had in mind, but it was still far from ideal.

Elryc nodded quickly, he reminded Nebo of a rat. “Of course, as you say, Lord Weaver.”

“Wait!” A gravelly voice interrupted their conversation. It was a voice Nebo would recognize anywhere, Mikhail had come.

“I sent them here, shiftmaster.” Mikhail bowed deeply to Elryc. It made Nebo sick. “Please, sir, if anyone is to be punished, let it be me.”

Elryc looked at the Weaver, too scared to make a decision.

“Four times an arm, then.” The gray haired man said. “Two for the leader and one each for his pawns.”

Several ropes were thrown over Mikhail's neck immediately, pulling him to the ground. Whips rained down on his large body, each lash piercing Nebo's brain as if he was undergoing it himself.

“No, stop!” Nebo begged, but was silenced when Elryc headbutted him.

“You shut your mouth, insect.” Elryc hissed.

More shiftmasters came and dragged Nebo and Elka next to Mikhail, pinning their arms to the ground. One of the others grabbed an axe, and approached the three unfortunate slaves.

A silence fell as other slaves surrounded them, watching the spectacle in horror and shame.

“Which one first, Lord Weaver?” Elryc said, grinning from ear to ear.

The Weaver stroked his goatee. “The boy.”

The axe wielder made his way to Nebo and stepped over him. He raised his axe in anticipation.

“Don't hurt him! Don't hurt my boy, you worm!” Mikhail raged, but he wasn't able to break free.

Elryc nodded at the axe wielding shiftmaster, and Nebo squeezed his eyes shut.

A loud thump sounded on the right side of his head, and excruciating pain shot through his upper arm. He couldn't suppress it, and he screamed his lungs out.

His right arm had been severed at the shoulder, and he almost lost consciousness from the shock and pain. After catching his breath, he looked over to Elka and Mikhail.

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Elka's face was covered in tears and mucus, but when he looked into her eyes he didn't see blame. All he saw was pity.

He looked at Mikhail, but couldn't hear what he said yet. It took a while for him to hear what he was shouting.

“Be strong, lad, we'll get through this!” Mikhail's face was twisted in rage, grief and worry. “Don't do what you're thinking about!”

He didn't understand at first, but then he saw the shiftmaster stand over Elka, his axe raised.

I can stop this, but I can't. They'll torture me at the tower and they'll take me away from Mika.

His shoulder burned with pain. He wanted to scream again, but he was sure he'd screamed his throat raw. He looked around in a panic, and saw Twenty and Frehar standing in the crowd. They looked worried and impatient.

Impatient?

Before he could process what that meant, he turned his eyes to Elryc. The man was laughing and clapping his hands as if he'd just heard the best joke in his life.

Save them, child.

The voice entered his mind unexpectedly. He recognized it. It was the Weaver. He turned to look at the man, and saw a faint, golden glow surrounding the man’s otherwise pale gray irises.

Show me your power, or watch your companions be mutilated as you were.

He looked over to Mikhail again, and saw him pleading with his eyes.

Elryc had recovered from his fit of laughter, and took a deep breath. “What a pair of lungs on that brat, hilarious.” He said, wiping his eyes. He turned to the axeman standing over Elka. “Ready?”

“So you like my voice, Elryc?” Nebo said, a cold rage in his voice. His entire body went frigid. He apologized to Mikhail in his thoughts, but he couldn't bear to watch Elka and Mikhail suffer this terrible pain.

“Hm? What's that, nightingale?” Elryc said, mocking him.

He looked at Elryc and smiled maniacally. “I'll let you hear it once more, as loud as I can, are you ready?”

Elryc just stared at him, puzzled.

In his mind’s eye, he attempted to recreate the movements he saw the Weaver make in front of the collapsed tunnel. He grasped the shimmering threads, and roughly imitated the pattern the man had made. He knew it wouldn't be nearly as powerful, but it would be enough.

“Well, filth, speak up then if you have something to say!” Elryc said.

Nebo felt ripples of power course through his entire body into his throat. He knew his eyes were shining, judging by the looks of Mikhail and the rest of the crowd. Elka looked at him in confusion and shock.

His eyes went to Elryc, and finally it was time to speak. He grinned, and shouted a single word with all his strength.

“Shatter!”

Elryc exploded into a million pieces, covering the entire crowd with blood and bone and guts. Everyone, except the Weaver, who stood there with a raised eyebrow as the pieces of viscera slid off the thin layer protecting his body.

The axeman stumbled backwards, dropping his axe. “I–, it's an Arcaneborne!”

Before the crowd could panic, an explosion in the now cleared tunnel shook the mines.

One of the shiftmasters came running from inside, nearly falling on his face before reaching the Weaver.

“Lord! There weren't any slaves in the tunnel, they all escaped!”

The Weaver's face grew sour.

“Those loathsome rebels again. Quick, man, what's happening?”

“They're coming sir, a few hundred Acuamorii and Dunmorii warriors. They have two Freeweavers with them!”

Nebo quickly crawled towards Mikhail and Elka. “I'm so sorry, both of you, but I couldn't let this happen.”

Elka threw herself into his arms, sobbing and wiping tears and snot all over his tunic in the process. “You fool! Why didn't you do that before you went and got your arm cut off?”

He patted her back. “It's okay Ellie, I can live without an arm.”

“I agree with her, you dumb fuck,” Mikhail said. “If you were going to do it anyway, you might as well have done it earlier. Bah.”

“I'm sorry Mika, I-”

“It's alright lad, it seems you take after Katya.”

Frehar and Twenty came running.

“We've no time, you three. The plan’s been moved up, and we have to leave now.” Frehar said, looking around wildly.

“What plan, you bumbling fool?” Mikhail growled.

“We're with the rebellion, Mikhail. Both Twenty and me, we were caught intentionally to look for structural weaknesses in the tunnels so our fellow rebels could free the slaves here.”

“Twenty I could fathom, but you too?”

Frehar rolled his eyes. “Not the bloody time, you mean old codger! Follow us, we'll clear a path.”

Twenty grabbed the axe dropped by the shiftmaster, and immediately cleaved two of the masters in front of him in half. He roared, and moved like a whirlwind of death and destruction through the other guards as he went.

“What in the-?” Mikhail stuttered.

“Now's a good a time as any, I suppose,” Frehar said. “Twenty's called twenty because before they cut out his tongue, he beat twenty imperial knights to death with his bare hands.”

“I see.” Mikhail said, not sure how to respond.

“Now come on!”

They ran after Twenty in the direction of the tunnel. Nebo was having trouble staying conscious, the exhaustion from his magic use and the blood loss was taking its toll on him. They went as fast as they could, making sure to stay just out of reach of Twenty's rampage. When they almost reached the rebels, who were slaughtering shiftmasters left and right, Nebo heard a voice.

Oh no, you don't. This mine is lost, but I've gained something far greater.

His body froze. An invisible force stopped all of his movements, and he saw Mikhail stop and turn around.

“Lad, what are you doing?” He shouted.

Nebo couldn't speak either. A hand rested on his shoulder.

“Get away from him, leave him alone you demon!”

Let's go, Neophyte.

A portal opened next to Nebo, and the hand dragged him inside. Mikhail and Elka tried to chase after him, but Nebo knew they wouldn't make it.

Mikhail's face was contorted with fear, and as Nebo saw the portal closing behind him, he heard Mikhail's desperate voice shouting in a panic.

“Please, don't take my son!”