“Raze the world and bring it upside down,” Hessian repeated those words like a mantra as he was being dragged away by the soldiers.
How he would accomplish his goal, he didn’t know; yet. It was a stupid goal and very much impossible, that much he was aware of, but it drove him. Making the world suffer like he and everyone else did.
After the raid on Nippur, Hessian felt empty inside.
Hungry for both food and something to make his blood boil. When the smell of food hit his nose, Hessian looked up at his owner, the Third Elite Macnaught.
He was less than pleased to see Hessian—in fact, he rarely was.
“Youuuuu,” Macnaught foamed from the mere presence of Hessian. “Kneel, thrall.”
Hessian was already kneeling but didn’t correct him.
Folding his arms behind his back and placing his forehead on the ground, Hessian straightened his back, exposing his back and neck.
“I can’t believe we’ve lost 1/4 of our soldiers during the raid to capture some stragglers and your group of slaves came out unscathed.”
“What can I say? We are better than you think.” Hessian bit his lip bloody, smiling as he tried to hold back from saying things that would end badly if anyone heard them.
“No matter, a few casualties won’t hinder my ascension to become a Second Elite.”
Macnaught grabbed a bag packed with dwarven-made Idarien gold coins and threw it at Hessian’s face.
Each gold coin on the ground reflected and formed a dotted carpentry of light, highlighting Hessian’s harsh expression he wore.
Macnaught sneered. “You are lucky I am letting this slight. Get out of my sight and return to the rest of your rabble of blighter, you hear me?”
“Oh, I hear you.” Hessian held his jaw, stopping his urge to grind with his teeth and control his thoughts. He concentrated on his aching bones, his grumbling stomach, or the pain in his leg.
He had barely suffered any injuries from the raid—mostly he got them from the abuse at camp. Though one pain still stung him. That was when he had fought a coward of a man.
“Ki–ur, that was his name, no?”
Strutting with his limp through the camps, he received irritated glares from every soldier he passed. Hessian didn’t care for any of these soldiers but only for his group, who received him wholeheartedly upon his return.
“Hessian!” Their malnourished faces lit up at the one person who led their group.
Hessian was a nobody, like the rest of them. He had formed a group of trusted slave warriors loyal to him. To the dismay and fortune of Macnaught, who owned them and controlled Hessian.
Hessian could get away with a lot but had to listen to Macnaught’s commands and make the group listen.
A delicate balance.
“You all have seen better days,” commented Hessian with the bare minimum of a grin. He limped past his comrades to the small bonfire where another Reiszer was situated.
His name was Bjorn.
Tall and quite robust despite how thin he looked like the rest. “Hessian.” Bjorn stood up before Hessian, towering over him by more than a head. He was as imposing as a bear, but much more approachable. “Have a bite with us.”
Not too long ago, the two couldn’t stand each other.
Bjorn was the leader of a slave faction. Hessian was an outsider who wasn’t just ambitious but dangerous at the same time.
He was uninvited trouble and trouble needed to be put in line or down, like a dog—although Hessian was more like a wolf.
“How’s the food?”
“Bad as ever.” After taking a bite, Hessian passed on the undercooked bovine leg to another hungry Reiszer—at least there was some meat. “After the raid, I would have imagined our food situation to improve, but I guess not.”
“That was to expect,” commented Bjorn, holding his stomach. It was not enough to satiate the tall Reiszer. “I hope Nertha and Lovis had more luck.”
Nertha and Lovis; two more former faction leaders.
Hessian’s arrival transformed the power dynamic among them.
Before that, each faction leader would quarrel with each other just to survive.
The strongest among them would lead their own groups, and they all had to listen to Macnaught to earn better favours and conditions.
It was an awful structure.
Between the infighting, abuse and unreasonable orders with little to no food or hope to go by, Hessian somehow relayed them behind him.
Despite his lack of charisma and his anti-social attitude.
“Speaking of those two, where are the two?”
Bjorn and the other former faction leaders expected to be underneath Hessian, not become his equal allies. He didn’t care about a power dynamic. His ambitions were still an enigma, but he was better than the system they lived under.
Much better.
“Securing provisions. Do you suspect trouble?”
Hessian inspected his new sword, concluding he could use another from the slight chip. “Wouldn’t be the first time, would it? Let’s make sure we get what we deserve.”
—☀—
“Do as we said.”
“Who cares how you feel?”
“Thralls don’t need to eat well. Obey and work till death.”
As slaves, Hessian and the rest learned to disregard expectations and embraced the cold and harsh reality. It was harder to get by when you knew nothing would improve.
“If you listen to us, you will get twice- no, thrice the number of provisions. We can guarantee you that.”
Hearing that, Hessian and Bjorn quickened their gait to find Nertha and the other female slaves getting pressed by the soldiers. Standing still, they endured as the soldiers’ slimy hands went over their girls’ messy hair and exposed skin.
Some even dared to go as close as the collarbone or the thighs, contemplating doing more.
Pulling on the auburn hair of the former slave leader, Nertha tried hard to appear unfaced and not have the crate of food she was carrying getting taken away.
She was the only one composed enough not to show emotions—although her twitching lips proved otherwise.
Nertha knew better than to lose the food and held back as the soldiers harassed her than her girls—getting a reaction out of her was more entertaining.
“This girl has spunk. Someone take her arms, I’ll take the legs-”
“Hey, chums!” Bjorn called up to the soldiers buoyantly with open arms, feigning an amused grin. “Thank you for looking out for our girls. We’ll take it from here. Thanks for the effort, friends.”
Hessian’s and Bjorn’s entrance confused the soldiers while the girls sighed collectively in relief. “We were worried they were running late, so thank you very much for-”
Bjorn’s talk cut short when a soldier slugged him across the chin, unable to reach his face. “Shut it, thrall. Who do you think you are?”
“Ha ha, that hurt,” Bjorn grinned, wiping away the blood dripping from his lips with his dirty hand.
“Is this how we’ll do it?” Hessian approached the soldiers now, coming so close to one of them that their noses were almost touching. “Hit me too, if you dare. It will help settle your tedium, no?”
“Hit us as much as you want.” Bjorn spread his arms invitingly for the other soldiers, startling them with his friendly approach and height. “But don’t forget to pay us for our performance. Some proper compensation for it would be nice.”
Provocatively, their presence almost overwhelmed the soldiers. Glancing at the weapons the two carried, the soldiers thought it was a trap. No way their slaves were asking for a beating.
They reluctantly stepped back until one soldier threw the first punch at Hessian.
Seeing as Hessian didn’t react, she punched him again. Then a different one hit Bjorn before it turned into a free for all against the two slaves.
“Is that all?” asked Hessian, deadpan, standing unwavering with a bloody face.
“Are they already done?” Bjorn pouted disappointingly, putting his fists on his hips. “I was about to feel something despite an annoying sting.”
“More like an itch,” Hessian chuckled derisively. Bjorn cracked a blood-smeared smile at that.
“What’s wrong with those two?”
“Are they mad?”
“They are. Just like we are.”
Too late did the soldiers notice the flock of slave warriors assembling behind Bjorn and Hessian. Held back by none other than Nertha as the slaves’ hands were shaking to grip their weapons.
Ready to escalate the situation if needed. Just another Tuesday.
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“L-let’s go. I-I don’t feel like it anymore.”
“I-I agree, nothing but madmen.” The soldiers hurried away, getting as far away from them as possible.
Seconds after the soldiers were out of sight, Hessian and Bjorn collapsed to their knees. They were utterly exhausted, beaten and swarmed with their worried comrades with admiration thrown at them.
“You should have killed them,” commented Nertha, wiping away the blood on Hessian’s face with her remaining sleeve.
“And get us into more trouble? No, thank you,” Hessian looked past the other slaves, taking care of Bjorn, spotting a little blond figure behind him. “Did you catch their faces, Lovis?”
Smaller than the rest of the slaves, with the smallest stature, was Lovis.
Their hair was so long and filthy that the wild strands covered their face entirely. Underneath it, Hessian could see them smile wickedly with a finger on their lips.
Their gender and race were unknown. They could only communicate in grunts and gestures and barely hear, but none of the slaves dared to stay near them except Bjorn.
It was the last leader Hessian had brought underneath his command, and the most unhinged one.
After all, Hessian would never allow someone to trample on him or anyone in his group and let them get away with no consequences.
—☀—
“Open up and eat.”
“Stop it. I’m not a child. I won’t- Gah-” When Hessian’s wounds were acting up again, Nertha shoved a spoiling fruit in his mouth. Swallowing it fully, he hoped the taste would go down faster. It didn’t. “Stop feeding me spoiled fruit, woman!”
“Stop complaining, man!” Bonking Hessian on his head, Nertha shut him up with another spoiled fruit.
“You should enjoy the attention. It’s not as bad as you think it is,” suggested Bjorn while he was being taken care of by the female slaves—tending to his wounds or combing his tangled blond hair.
He wasn’t shy about giving them a squeeze, to which they replied with a chuckle in humour.
“He makes me sick,” Hessian and Nertha groaned in response to Bjorn’s unbridled behaviour.
Nertha couldn’t believe they were enemies not long before Hessian appeared.
Before that, she had led an all-female slave group and protected each and every one of them on her own.
Unless you were strong, it was fairly easy to be exploited or abused by others—especially as a woman.
Something Nertha knew all too well and refused to accept it. She took it upon herself to be the strong one and protect them as best as she could.
When Hessian first arrived, she hated him like any other male leaders she had faced prior, but grew to understand him. He didn’t show it, but he cared for them all. Regardless of their strength or usefulness.
“Here, have some grapes too-” Then Hessian suddenly slapped away her hand and with it the bowl he. His facade cracked, showing his colours underneath his cold exterior for just a bare moment.
There was something even colder underneath it all, filled with so much hate that he could barely contain and hide it back.
“I lost my appetite,” growled Hessian and limped away from the camp. “Don’t follow me. I’ll go for a walk.”
Discontent, Nertha glanced over to Bjorn.
He shrugged. “For your information, it’s your fault.”
“Quiet, blockhead, I know that,” answered Nertha, having forgotten how much Hessian hated the sight of grapes. “They are still fresh,” Nertha cleaned up one of them and plopped it into her mouth before following Hessian.
“Ah, what to do, what to do?” Hessian planted his hand on his face as he walked through the encampment. “I’m so upset. I need to vent.”
He couldn’t help it.
Something about those fruits triggered in him an uncontrollable amount of aggression. It was nauseating and made him feel sick whenever he simply smelled the otherwise juicy fruits.
The mere sight or smell made him want to squash them in his dirt-caked hands.
Hessian couldn’t explain it, nor did he want to. Getting away was the only option, and venting his anger was all he could think of right now.
“How should I do it today? Find myself a soldier and-”
Then a strange smell entered his nostrils.
It was invisible and not detectable to anyone but him. The smell of opportunity if he knew how to follow it—as his mother once told him.
Tracking down the trail led him to two different people.
One of them was a soldier from before, drunk and red to his ears. He was harassing a slave, but not one of Hessian’s people. She was a labourer.
“Tch, what a waste of time.” Hessian clicked with his tongue on being led to somewhere useless. Yet he lingered around to watch.
“Girl, you are suspiciously swift on your feet. Where are you going? Let’s go together. My friends are nowhere to be found. I’m quite lonely.”
“Ah, Lovis was busy with work.” Hessian nodded approvingly.
“None of your business,” the slave returned sharply. Hessian whistled silently, impressed by her guts. The soldier stopped the girl from passing by him. “Let me go or you’ll regret it.”
A grin formed on Hessian’s face. “Oh, she will regret it,” he held back a snicker and leaned closer to watch.
She was no one special. Thin and malnourished as any other slave. Unkempt raven hair with ragged clothes and no shoes. Hessian wondered, what was so special about her?
Her fierceness? Her boldness?
“No, nothing of that sort. It would get her killed in the future.” Hessian mused, “So what gives? What’s so special about you?” he wondered, biting on his bruised lip.
“What’s that in your hand?” The soldier snatched something from her. “Damn, those scribbles are impossible to read. What do they mean?”
“Give it back!” the girl cried out, pouncing at the soldier with all her weight.
“Should I help her or not? She might die if I don’t.” Hessian inspecting the new new sword he got from a soldier who didn’t need it anymore. “Thinking of, I might need a new-”
“You cur, you bit my hand!” Hessian’s attention turned back to the girl now scratching the soldier’s face with her broken nails. It was about to get violent, and Hessian wasn’t keen on missing out.
“I’ll kill you for this!” The soldier pinned the girl down, holding her by her throat. “Though not until I had my fun with-”
Before he could do anything, the girl moved her legs around the soldier's arms and kicked him repeatedly in his face. “Over, my, cold, dead, body.”
The soldier groaned, holding his bloody nose. “I’ll kill you, you b-.”
Stabbing through the soldier’s shoulder, Hessian dislocated it. He then snatched the soldier’s old sword, acquiring his new new new sword. “I’ll take this. You won’t need it.”
Holding his shoulder, he stared at Hessian, flabbergasted. “W-who are you?”
“Name’s Hessian, no surname,” responded Hessian coolly, picking up the piece of parchment. “Don’t wear it out. Can’t afford another.”
“Y-you’re insane. I’ll make you pay!” The soldier bolted away, leaving a trail of blood behind.
Hessian waved a goodbye and snickered to himself.
“Was that smart?” asked the girl, holding her bruised arm. “Telling him your name will end badly—for you.”
“Nah, I’m not worried, it’s well under control,” snickered Hessian, sensing Lovis following the soldier—their hands caked with blood. “Let’s read what the letter says.”
“Wha- stop!” she protested, but Hessian held her back with one arm. His face scrunched up on the contents and threw it back at her.
“This letter,” Hessian startled her. She feared what he would say, his presence as stifling as a wolf’s. “I’ve no clue what it says. Good day.”
“Huh?” returned the girl, baffled by Hessian’s sudden leave. “Wait, where are you-”
“Listen, I thought this might be interesting, but turns out it was a waste of time. I can’t even read the characters to-”
“Have you seen someone with golden hair?”
Hessian’s heart stopped.
The mere mention of someone with golden hair made his body shiver with excitement. “What was that feeling?” He failed to shake off the exhilaration.
“No,” he replied.” At least, not here.”
“Grrr,” the girl grumbled and gritted her teeth. “Thank you for your help. I’ll get going.”
“See you around,” responded Hessian, watching her leave toward the caged wagons. The smell had returned, the very invisible and undetectable smell.
It was not the girl, but the mere letter. A spark waiting to light up a tinder box.
“I guess I’ll make sure she finds her way,” chuckled Hessian, tailing her like a wolf for greater prey.
—☀—
“Where’s Hessian?” inquired Nertha of Bjorn, who was sparring barehanded with the slaves.
He knocked back the axe of one and put the other in a headlock. “Haven’t seen him for days. Didn’t you say you would stalk him?”
“Wha- I never said that!” retorted Nertha and picked up the scattered axe to throw it at Bjorn. It almost decapitated someone else. “I am worried he’s getting himself into trouble-”
“Gossiping about me?”
Bjorn and Nertha, alongside the other slaves, jumped back in surprise at Hessian’s sudden appearance—splattered in blood from head to toe.
Nertha stammered, “W-w-w-hat happened? Are you-”
“Not my blood,” Hessian let out a long breath. “I need to sit down.”
Nertha shook her head. “Where have you been?”
“On a mission?” Hessian sat down, exhaling another long breath.
“What kind of mission?” Nertha’s lip was twitching again. Impatient and annoyed by not getting an answer.
“I wonder,” yawned Hessian, barely able to stay focused until Nertha slapped him awake. “What was that for!?”
“I wonder,” she responded, and left.
“Women…” Hessian let out a sigh. “I don’t understand them.”
“I wonder,” Bjorn chuckled and looked to the side. “Oh, Lovis, you’re back,” Bjorn hastily greeted the short person, drenched in more blood than Hessian. “Take some bread, you must be starving,” said Bjorn in sign language, being one of the few people to communicate properly with Lovis.
Accepting the bread, Lovis engaged in a silent conversation with Bjorn. What he told Bjorn surprised the tall guy. “Are you serious? Hessian was following a girl all week?”
Eavesdropping, Nertha and the other slaves perked up.
“A labourer, you say? What did she look like? You must tell me everything! Let’s gossip.”
“Yes, tell us everything.” Nertha forced a smile and sat down next to Hessian. She leaned closer to him. “What girl are they talking about?”
“Ergh,” groaned Hessian in response, turning away. “What does a man have to do to get some sleep?”
Nertha narrowed her eyes at Hessian. Her ears and the fine hair on her arms stood on all ends. “Answer my question. Who was she?”
Nearby slaves flinched and backed away from Nertha.
Hessian ignored her. “None of your business.”
“Alright,” Nertha let out a sigh, trying to calm them. “I know better than to argue. Instead,” retrieving an item from underneath her clothes, Nertha held it before Hessian. “But I will smash that thing if you don’t answer me.”
“What thing?” Eventually Hessian turned around, his eyes snapped wide open and violently he snatched the item back from Nertha’s hands. She stumbled backwards, frightened by Hessian’s sudden behaviour. “Don’t you ever joke about this. I got this trophy from an important fight. Apologise, now.”
Nertha averted her face from Hessian’s angry, feeling his hot breath against her neck. “I-I’m sorry,” managed Nertha.
“You should be.” Hessian backed away. “My mood is sour again. I’ll go for another-”
“Wait.”
“What is it now?” Hessian grew annoyed by Nertha’s constant pestering.
“What are you up to?” she asked sheepishly. “We’re worried. What you’re doing is nothing dangerous, right?”
Hessian didn’t immediately answer her question.
The other slaves stepped closer on the conversation, curious for an answer, but Hessian merely gave Nertha a scheming smile. “Something great. Just wait for it.”
Yes, something was brewing, it was swelling up in the air by the minute and Hessian planned to be right in the middle of it.
Character Profiles
Name: Hessian
Age: 20; Gender: Male; Race: Human
Magic: Reiszer?
Hessian is a slave warrior for the Reiszer Nations. Serving under Macnaught, he took part in the raid on Nippur and is an important anchor to keep the other slaves in check. No one knows what his agenda is, where he comes from or what his ambitions are other than forming his group of slaves and growing their strength.
Likes: Fights, getting new weapons (especially swords), retribution against those who wronged him or his allies
Hates: Grapes, Kiur, mistreatment of his group
HESSIAN’S ALLIES:
Bjorn was a former slave faction leader and the tallest and most robust one of the group. Is a human, loves fishing and dislikes mistreatment. Respects fierce and strong people like Hessian. A rumour about him says that he once strangled a bear with his own hands, but no one seems to believe. He’s a good friend of Lovis, almost like brothers.
Has a thing for women.
Age: 21
Nertha was a former slave faction leader of a group of only female slaves. A therianthrope with unknown blood. Overprotective of other female slaves as she knows how bad it can be to be a slave and a woman at the same time. Has some interest in Hessian. Is good with the axe and bow.
Age: 19
Lovis was a former slave faction leader who was also known to be a shadow leader. They are inconspicuous and mellow appearance makes others underestimate him. Gender, age, and race are unknown. They can wield two weapons at the same time. Known to be very brutal. Cannot hear properly and mostly talks with Bjorn via sign language but can read lips.