A slowly swaying light, casting a dim hue over a musty and dark room. Such are the circumstances Nur finds himself in as he enters the world of the waking.

He pulls his left and right arm as he stretches his neck. Alas, a thick chain stops his range of movement from going too far with him only able to hover his hands just by his belly button before he is stopped.

Smashing his head against the wall behind him in frustration he leans and cranes his neck towards the exposed chain and bites it. Using his teeth as a saw he grinds and chews but with every bite his face twitches and flexes. His gums begin to bleed and create a small rivulet of flowing ichor that drains down his face to join the dried pool on the floor.

This continues for an indeterminate amount of time with only the ever-thickening pool of blood on the floor being the only change within the room.

The monotony is broken, however, when a door on the side of the room opens and a man full of flair walks in. His face is gentle and only ever so slightly touched by age while his clothes are flamboyant and steeped with jewels galore.

In his hands is a steaming pot that he places on the ground in front of Nur. No response is given to his presence, the now scarred boy continues to bite the chains without care.

“It’s been over a week now. Those chains will not break just from mere bites, even if you go at it for the next year”

No response is given.

The man picks up a spoon and fishes out a lump of meat. He presents it under Nur’s nose and waves it left and right.

“No food or water for this amount of time cannot be pleasant now can it. Please eat, you are a bit too useful to just waste away from hunger. I am sorry about the chains, ok? I would let you free but then you would just keep trying to kill me, which, as funny as it is does get kind of annoying after a while.”

The man rubs his temple and puts the spoon back into the stew. He then picks up the pot and pours it over Nur.

Flinching from the sudden scalding heat, Nur’s biting stops momentarily as his flesh sizzles and churns. Following the steaming stew as it slides down his skin, taking the topmost layers of it with it and dripping onto the floor. Nur continues to bite.

“If you cannot converse like a human and choose to remain like a simple animal then I will treat you as such” harrumphs the man as he turns with dramatic flair.

“Know that what happens next is your fault. It will stop the moment you choose to drop the act and speak.”

The man leaves and silence returns, except the sound of bone gnawing on wood.

Time passes and as Nur tires and begins to enter the realm of sleep, the door opens and a tired looking man wearing a simple tunic and pants walks in carrying a massive barrel.

Placing the barrel down with a thud, he then leaves and comes back with a chair. He places it on the ground and sits on it. He stares at nothing in particular, not saying a single word.

Nur looks upon him for a moment but then lays back down against the wall and attempts to sleep once more.

SPLASH

Ice cold water is thrown at Nur, waking him up from his attempt at slumber. He growls and thrashes against his chains in apparent anger, before spitting at the man and attempting to slumber once more.

SPLASH

Again, the ice-cold water comes upon him. Stinging his previously burnt skin and sending him into a world of nothing but pain and agony for a brief few moments.

This time Nur does not try to sleep but instead stares straight at the man, his face twisted in rage. The man does not even glance at him and simply stares into nothingness, even giving a casual yawn and rubbing his eyes.

The standoff continues for two days, with the man leaving and being replaced by another equally tired fellow.

Each and every time Nur would begin to lose consciousness, the water would come crashing down on him except sometimes it would be scalding hot and melt his skin while other times it would be ice cold and freeze his bones.

Day in day out this continued with the abused boy losing the ability to even thrash against his chains in protest at one point. The only response he showed to the liquids being poured down onto him would be a slight twitch of his body. The only proof of him clinging onto life being the slow rise and fall of his chest and spinning eyes as they rolled around in his sockets and his finger that was tracing unending symbols onto the floor.

The sound of the door opening and closing rang out once again and a familiar gait entered Nur’s ears.

“Look, we only have two years of time to us and you just wasted a month. I applaud your ability to withstand physical readjustment.” said the man in a flowing tone yet he could not hide the annoyance in his voice.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Though since you have given me a full month of preparation, I have prepared a new course for you. Hopefully this will break the barbarian in you and allow you to finally step onto the process of integration.”

The door opens and this time several people enter the room at once, their smells and sounds mix quietly but the many noises sound like thunder in Nur’s deprived ears.

“They do say that to start a life anew one must shed all mortal attachments and sever their mundane spirit. I am not much of a believer myself of the ascetism of the Honoris but perhaps it can serve our purposes.”

The sound of knees meeting wooden floor sound out and a familiar smell finally reaches its way to Nur’s nose, choking him and bringing his eyes back into focus.

What greets his eyes are recognizable visages. Men and women of various statures wearing rag tag cloaks made of patchwork. Now beaten and bloody and their limbs tied they look towards Nur and their eyes shake and any strength they had left in their spines deflates as some outright crumble onto the floor and break into cries of utter terror.

The man of jewels pulls out a longsword and unsheathes it, placing it upon the neck of one of the trembling bandits.

He flinches at the cold touch of the blade and begins mumbling incoherently.

“Boss…boss…. boss…”

A second wind descends upon Nur who forces himself up and tries to shout,

“N- “

A golden wrap flickers into existence and stops him from speaking entirely.

“Tut, tut, tut” says the man whilst clicking his tongue, “you held out for so long before. I know you will not break with just paltry threats. In order to mold properly one must first break, this is understood.”

The bandit’s head is separated from his body, culled in one fell swoop.

The man looks at his cut and rubs his wrist, “I never was cut out for farm work”

Down the line he walked. Chopping, culling, and reaping the lives of the ragtag bandits one after the other. Some struggled with their bindings and attempted to escape while others just vacantly stared at the ceiling. Those that struggled were stopped in their tracks by golden chains that locked their feet to the floor while those that did not were just killed that much faster.

Ignoring the renewed struggles of Nur, who thrashed and pulled at his chains like a man possessed, the slaughter continued until everyone had perished.

Men in plain clothes walked in and carried the bodies away. Though they returned in short order, this time bringing along new captives that plunged Nur’s stomach into the depths and back again.

“I heard you were somewhat close to these fellows. They even knew you by name! What a surprise it was to me when I found out. I had thought you were just an animal in the visage of a human, but it looks like you can keep pets of your own like any respectable person.”

The man nodded sagely to himself and dropped the now chipped and bloodied sword on the ground. He looked into Nur’s eyes and patted him on the shoulder.

“Remember, this is your fault. Believe it or not I take no pleasure in exterminating the vermin by my own hand. Its quite droll work not fit for someone of my personage. Gods above not to mention the smell of barbarian! This will take week to wash from me….”

Wrapping his arm around Nur’s shoulder and forcing his neck into place. Nur shivered in place and closed his eyes shut, refusing to look in front of him but accursed golden threads forced his eyes open and into place.

On the ground, barely conscious, were several children that breathed weakly as they cried silent tears. A gilded rope popped into existence around each of their necks, lifting them up and into the air.

Having their ability to breath suddenly robbed from them they began to struggle, clutching at the rope and scratching at it with their nails. Futile it was and the moments stretched onwards, ticking slowly as Nur’s frame of mind was shattered and reformed again and again.

Then the struggle slowed and slowed, eventually ceasing all together. The children went limp, their lives made finite.

The rope dissipated and the bodies fell to the ground and along with it: Nur’s heart as well.

Nur stood, shaking off the arm gripped around his neck and strained against the chains. His emaciated figure lurched forward, a greenish hue appearing on his skin and on the ground around him.

Swirling languidly, nipping at his heels was the ghastly figures of several maws. Nevertheless, he stepped forward once more. He ripped the chains from the wall despite it biting into his skin and tearing it all the while.

Stepping forward once more the chains around his legs were torn next and the now free tortured soul walked a slow pace towards the fallen.

Standing before them he collapsed on his knees and put his hand on each of their hearts. The swirling verdant grew larger and larger with each one he touched until the man of jewels found himself completely surrounded by ethereal beasts of hunger and malice.

Nur stood up shakily, tears of blood pouring from his eyes and a feral grin of madness adorning his face.

He flexed his shoulders and stretched his toes, the beasts in the air mimicked his actions and their mouths stretched impossibly into a similar grin.

The man in the center of it all looked unconcerned and said,

“Impressive. A complete pre-awakening. Far more than I expected. A perfect fit for the Pontiffs.”

Laughter rang out. A spine chilling, bone rending, and yet sorrowful laughter. Each beast threw their maws into the air and let loose such laughter, whilst drool dripped down onto the floor and their piercing eyes flitted between the man’s vital points one after the other.

Their muscles visibly tensing they prepared to lurch forward but were interrupted by a whistle from Nur. Snapping their attention to him, they tilted their heads left and right between one another and backed down.

Whimpering slightly, they returned towards Nur’s side with heavy steps whilst becoming nothing more than smoke once more. Into his body they went, gone for now.

“I, will listen” began Nur in a grave tone, “but, I will bring death to you.”

Clapping in glee the man walked up to Nur and placed his hand on the boy’s mottled hair, a golden light emanating it and naked power undulating forth.

“And I was told I had no skill in breaking in new mutts,” laughed the man, “I will let you try and ‘kill’ me once a month from now on. You will do what I say when I say, and we will have no further issues. If you try and escape then I will simply catch you and find new ways to break you, alright?”

Nur nods and the light flashes once, then twice, and then thrice.

“Well then, you shall now call me Master as for all intents and purposes you will be registered as a slave under me whilst we undergo your re-education.”

The light ceased and Nur lifted his arms and looked at the now closed massive cut, though only the worst of his wounds had been sealed.

The man walked forward and beckoned Nur to follow him, stepping over the bodies on the ground without even registering their existence.

“You have gone from a flee ridden existence as a damned barbarian. Now you have been freed from such a fate and are a slave of a true citizen of the Republic, rejoice!”

Exiting the room, Nur looked back one last time at the corpses on the ground. He looked for but a moment,

His footsteps did not falter