Bain

Prologue

Somewhere out there we don't know.

*huff huff huff*

The sound of his panting was much more louder and stronger than what he wants it to be.

He can't help it. In the middle of the night, and worse it was a moonless night.

He was on edge and jumpy. So much on edge that his eyes keeps wandering in the dark of the night,

looking out for anything that is out of the ordinary.

So jumpy that any small noise and shuffling sounds made him point his spear in the general direction of the noise/sound.

The man was on the run. From someone, from something without a moments rest.

The only rest he could consider was when filling up his Waterskin, and it was during the day only.

Every once in a while he'd pause and stopp moving at all to listen to any strange sounds and if there's nothing,

he'd continue on his tracks.

"AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

A distant howling of a wolf stopped him from advancing.

"Oh Luna. Please guide thy faithful servant and deliver him from the creatures of the night and those vile Daemons."

The man prayed to a Goddess whom he always give his prayers to.

He then continued on his journey to nowhere, really. He hadn't really planned where he was headed to.

Only that he knows he needs to get as far away as he could get from the cursed place he had been.

The man was a slave, slave to the Daemons.

It already have been a few weeks since he fled the mining camp, where he and his fellow men were forced into labors,

but his instincts tells him to keep moving and never rest until he gets to a safer place where no Daemons could track him.

Every slave were marked by the Daemons to keep the slaves under control.

The mark also serves as a tracker for those any who try to escape, just like himself.

He was able to gain a few weeks because he was able to get rid of his pursuers, two Daemon Scouts.

But in the process, in exchange for a chance at freedom, the scouts gave him a wound on his left shoulder that would slow his pace down considerably.

Not only he felt much weaker because of the loss of blood, but also because other creatures and beasts would also be onto him now which also would

be a hindrance.. and a great pain in the ass.

It's only a matter of time before another Daemon Scouts picks up his trails because he's still in the Daemon Realms,

which will make it much easier for the Daemons to track down slave runners.

That is also another trait of the mark of the slaves, inside the Daemon Realms, the effects of the mark is stronger.

But if he were able to make it out of the borders of the Daemon Realms,

the scouts would need to be much closer to be able to feel the pulsating of the mark (the pulsating would only activate for slave runners).

And of course the man could also feel the Daemons if they are nearby, for when his mark pulsates it would cause him tremendous pain.

"ARRRWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

*HUFF!*

As he catch his breath.

"Shit. Gotta run faster now."

Upon hearing the howling he is so familiar with ever since the mining camp. It came from a warg(I know you know what a warg or varg looks like),

the Daemon Scouts' mounts. He had seen other slaves being thrown into the wargs den when the Daemons run out of food supplies.

Of course the slave that were thrown were not Human slaves, more like other slaves that they have enslave from the local populace of the lands that they have conquered. He would see beast-like creatures walking on two get thrown. He never wondered why cause he knows the Humans were a little bit special, special slaves. The Daemons would never feed Humans 'cause they can easily command the Humans who also speaks Daemon Language unlike the local populace who were much more difficult to be given orders.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

According from the distance of the howl, he could gauge that he's still ahead of his new persuers by a day, two at best.

He had avoided many Daemon Camps and Outposts, he was able to fend creatures and predators that might prey on him, and is now nearing the borders of the Daemon Realms. But a warg somehow have picked up a scent of a slave runner. The few scouts became alarmed and tracked down this slave runner.

"Freedom, so close yet so far."

Dread could be traced all over his face as the riders have been gaining on him everyday ever since they've picked up his scent.

"Damn it all! I guess I gotta do what I gotta do! Bring them with me to hell!"

So he said. But he's still injured on his left shoulder so it will be a struggle just to thrust the spear he had looted from the scouts he had slain. Or swing the long sword. Or draw the string of the bow. So he just rested himself to conserve as much energy as he could and waited for fate to come.

The scouts were nearing. There were three riders.

----------------------------------------------------(Change of POV) The Daemon Scouts------------------------------------

"Hey Fate! Why don't you go ahead and pick up that slave, eh? Seems like he had given himself up."

One of the riders said to his fellow scout. He sounded a little bit old and but sounded like an experienced old man.

"Aye! Hiyaaah!"

Answered a feminine voice as she commanded her warg to go a little faster.

---------------------------------------------------Back To MC-----------------------------------------------------------------

The slave stood up feeling a bit rested and recovered, he picked up the spear.

Then aimed at the incoming rider. He threw it as much as he could. He knew his aim was true.

It hit the rider straight in the chest. The rider fell from the warg. The other two saw what happened and quickly rushed at him. He could hear one of the riders screaming.

"FAAAAAAAAAAAAATE!"

It was not the older voice. This one is younger. The young scout quickly dismounted as soon as he got to the corpse of the dead scout.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

While the one screaming was still grieving there. The other scout proceeded to where the slave is. The slave got into a fighting stance ready to take anything coming from the rider. But then he was struck in the head by something blunt before he could even prepare to dodge it. He lost his consciousness. He manage to slay one scout only, too bad.

After a while....

He regained his consciousness and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the rocky grounds then the limbs of the warg walking in these rocky grounds.

He was tied on the saddle on the warg of the Daemon Scout he was able to kill.

"Uggghhh!"

When he finally ragained his strenght,he tried to struggle to free himself of his bonds to no avail then he looked up to his captors and asked.

"Where are you taking me?!"

Then one of the riders lined up his warg to the warg he was on. A boot came kissing him in the kisser.

"Shut up slave! We are taking you to the Next Chapter! We are only still here at Prologue!"

"What?"

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As much as I would love to just shut up and not write anything down here to just keep the chapter clean, please do comment.:)