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ETHER BORN
Chapter 1. Fight for freedom

Chapter 1. Fight for freedom

Step by step, I walked out of a dark corridor towards the small underground arena, filled with the stench of numerous battles.

In one hand I clenched a deathly cold metal dagger, paired with a flimsy wooden shield in another.

This time I was pinned against a common creature; it was roughly my size, with dark fur covering its body, including its four legs and a tail.

It growled at me loudly, showing me its sharp fangs.

The only way out of here was to defeat it. Resolved to face the danger, I stepped in a small puddle that showed a reflection of a young skinny boy no older than eleven with long dark hair and cloudy blue eyes. Around his neck was a transparent tear-shaped necklace hanging and reflecting the dim light coming out of the ceiling.

No room for hesitation—only action!

“Take that!”

I moved forward, stabbing at it swiftly.

GRRRRRR

It was jumping in and out of my attack range with great swiftness, leaving me little room to counterattack.

With each attempt, its fangs got a little closer to my neck and limbs. I could only inflict some shallow wounds upon it. But only a single attack from it could spell the end for me.

From one side to another, I tried to find an opening, but it was too nimble. My body started to shake, muscles slowly refusing to work at this unreasonable pace.

Sweat poured down my face, and my breathing was erratic; the pressure was on me; it had all the advantages now.

I had to choose a different strategy!

Showing weakness, I slipped and let it bite at my neck. It gladly used this opportunity and jumped at me with its mouth wide open, showing me many sharp saliva-covered teeth ready to end my life.

“Ugh..!”

At the last moment, I guarded myself with my shabby shield—CRUNCH—it almost bit through it, while its front legs pinned me down.

Just as it lunged for the final bite, I clenched the dagger with all my might and drove it deep into its neck, twisting the blade to extend the wound.

It trashed around while spilling a large amount of blood stamming from its neck; my vision was stained red in this final struggle.

More and more warm blood splattered around us until only stillness followed as its body fell on mine. I wanted to get it off me, but my strength was fading, with barely enough left to hold onto my consciousness.

“Cough cough I did it; I kept my promise; she will be happy when I return.”

I did the only thing I knew how to fight to the bitter end; no retreat nor any second chance were allowed for me anymore.

Soon the guards came, and their mood seemed to be good, because after they took all my equipment and poured a bucket of water on me, I was not dragged by one leg back but on one's shoulder.

What a luxury!

….

….

….

….

Many turns and some familiar stairs later I was thrown back into my wet, humid, and cold underground cell, which I occupied for a long time. The only thing that distinguished it from other ones was a metallic plate with number 58 hanging in front of it.

This is how I was called, since I can remember.

A half-full cold bowl of soup sat on the floor beside me. In contrast to days without me fighting, it contained little bits of meat with a piece of hard bread beside it; that was the reward I got for surviving another fight.

I did not complain—quite the opposite, as food was the biggest gift for us.

I tried to get up, but a stinging pain in my back and arms prevented me from doing so, forcing me to lay down again.

For some reason, my “caretakers” make me fight different opponents from time to time.

The worst opponents were not creatures but fellow humans, as the deception and ferocity they displayed could not be matched by beasts.

It was kill or be killed, and I survived up until now.

The fighting always left me with injuries and scars that I hated.…. Inside my chest, I felt a smoldering, defiant rage burning—one I learned to suppress and hide.

Those damned foxes are using me as they please...

While I was getting lost in the storm of anger and anguish in my heart, a familiar female voice caught my attention.

“Are you alright, Leo?"

I look to my left; in the cell next to me was the only person I considered family, in the middle of her now traditional speech.

“To the deepest dungeon with them! Those abominations... look what they have done to you again. Oh, golden goddess, vanquish those all!!”

Like me, she was a fellow member of Human Folk, a woman in her early 40s, with black hair going to her shoulders and a sunken face with one open brown eye while the other eye was covered with cloth with unknown writing on it that seemed to be stuck to her eye.

"I am going to be fine, Aster; were you worried?"

“Not at all, Leo; I believe you will never give up and win. Remember, my heart will burst if you won't return, so keep your promise at all costs!”

“I will; you can count on it!”

“For sure…. Well, of course I trust you, Leo, my gloomy, brave boy. Now smile for me.”

The corners of my mouth rose, but Aster only shook her head. I never figured out why my smile looked wrong to her.

"Yes, auntie."

“Watch it! Or there will be no story tonight.”

"Fine, fine, big sister. I was just joking; don't take this so seriously. You know I need my story on days like this."

I said, using my most devastating pleading eyes I could muster, that it was of utmost importance for me that Eline is in a good mood. When I was about to give up and end it all for good after losing contact with my best and only friend, she was the one that talked me out of it.

“ fufufu I am still weak towards your cuteness attack. Tonight I will tell you your favorite story about the first king, but first I need to finish this.”

Aster was currently in the middle of cleaning her only personal possession, a shabby metallic tree-shaped pendant with eleven dots at its roots and one in the crown all embedded in a circle—the symbol of the goddess that looks after humanity.

She received it as a gift from her son she received long ago but refused to share any more details, as only a sad expression painted her aging face as a response to my questions.

I can only speculate what happened in her life as she was imprisoned for many years here, but not her whole life like me.

What worries me is that she became quite sickly after her eye was injured. I prayed every day to the goddess and first king that she would get better and that we would be saved, but the rescue never came, no matter how many days I begged and pleaded in my mind.

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Things never changed for the better. I wish they did; at least for her, my gratitude was palpable as she taught me how to speak properly, behave somewhat appropriately, and the basics about the world outside.

After my meal, I searched for something under my sleeping place. It was something I used when I was bored. A wet, dirty, makeshift hair brush with a small stone as a tip to practice writing letters and numbers.

Each passing day was represented by a small scratch on the stone wall in my cell; today I added another.

390, 391, 392… that makes 56 weeks... the end of another year and back to the start, with nothing changing, it is always the same. There are no good days, only less horrible ones here.

What would our ancestor Leonidas the First do?

I directed my silent question to the clumsy scribble on the wall of a man in armor with a sword in hand.

He was right next to my makeshift calendar, bearing his name felt heavy all of Sudan.

I made them more out of boredom than necessity, looking at the unattainable dream while counting the time and life that are slipping in between my fingers.

Both were created thanks to Aster; she was like my teacher, friend, and mother figure, but she really liked to be called Big Sister for some reason.

She often told me stories, myths, legends, and all kinds of things about the outside world.

The lessons can get boring but are worth it since, after the lesson is finished, she rewards me with a story, and my most beloved one is:

The legend of the first king is that he was and still is the hope of human folk. Our ruler from times long past, in his wisdom he left for his struggling descendants his legacy; the dream of reaching it is in the hearts of many to this day.

Silence after the story filled our cells, but she could not stay still as always.

“Come closer, Leo; let me examine you for injuries again; there could be something I missed.”

She always did this; the care she displayed was the closest to a mother's love I ever experienced.

I came to the bars separating our cells and spun around slowly, letting her view me from every angle.

"Hmm, truly nothing life-threatening; thank Goddess; you fought hard and won; keep winning, Leo.”

She outstretched her hand and tenderly placed it on top of my head, stroking it, providing me the much-needed warm touch and comfort.

Our time talking together was cut short since I was still very exhausted and hurt. Without me realizing it, I slept for another whole day; luckily, my injuries healed somewhat by the time I woke up again.

Aster was not in her cell; they must have taken her while I was deep asleep to fight or do experiments on...

Now I could pay a little attention to the third and final person occupying this cell block with us.

To my right was the cell of a twelve-year-old female.

Except for looking a little malnourished and filthy, the most prominent and outstanding features of her appearance were her large ears standing on top of her head covered in silver gray fur that had some dark patches all over on the outside and white fur on the inside of her ears.

Her dirty hair was long, going to her waist, and I guess if cleaned properly, it would be the same silver grayish color as the fur on her ears, a signature trait of foxfolk from her family lineage, according to her.

Another discerning trait was her slim long gray tail with a white tip swaying from left to right as she walked back and forth in her cell, sometimes looking at me with her azure blue eyes.

All I know is that she hasn't been here as long as I have—'only' two to three years.

We only speak when Aster is taken away, and it is always her that makes an effort to communicate.

She had her left arm covered in whitish brown cloth with unknown symbols for a few months already.

I called her Poppy; initially she had another name that she refused to share as it was given to her by people she wanted to forget.

I only can remember ever being in this prison and being called number 58, only deciding on my name after I met Aster.

As for Poppy's name, by some miracle a silver flower with pinkish stripes bloomed in her cell that, like every cell, she had no windows and was only illuminated by yellowish glowing rocks on the ceiling alongside the four dark gray glowing rocks in each corner of the whole cell block; their purpose is unknown.

But we had to wear shackles that seemed to be embedded with smaller pebble-sized versions of them each time we went somewhere.

Aster told me the flower is called a red poppy. Its color changed in this environment, so Poppy took a liking to the name when she overheard us talking.

As per usual, Poppy used Asters absence and sparked up a conversation.

“Soo 58, the last fight must have been a tough one. Who did you fight with, a beast or another human?”

"Sigh, it is Leonidas, and I told you not to ask me about things that happen out there; nothing good comes from thinking about it... and it was a beast.”

"I told you to take advantage of their straightforward attacks."

"Yeah, you always say that, but it's not easy to implement. They are fast and... neven mind, I have no energy to argue with you; sometimes you are more irritating than the guards.”

“That was mean; well, excuse me for trying to help you."

"Why bother?”

"Once if you died, I would be stuck here with her, and she won't ever talk to me... She is stupid, a stupid hume that can't think straight.

Just because I am a foxian like those bastards, can't she see that I am a prisoner like you two?”

"Hey, don't call her stupid; Aster has taught me so much, and she is right; Foxians are evil; how else could your people do such things?

Just because you somehow ended here too, it does not mean you are any different; maybe you were punished like Aster says. Maybe you belong here for real."

She jumped towards my cell and lunged with her claws like fingernails towards me, growling while showing me her fangs that were bigger than any humans but not oversized.

It was futile; the thick metal bars would not let her breathe, no matter how mad she is.

“Youuu…. Do you think we are great!? The evil your people do is no less than what you see here, no even worse than the other eleven races!

She knows nothing about me, and neither do you. I was never supposed to end up like this... hic hic.”

She started sobbing quietly while retreating into her cell's corner furthest from me. I had nothing else to say; my chest felt tight, and I could only look down. This is not the first time I made her cry...

Then I heard someone coming inside.

The door opened, and Aster was returned back to her cell by two foxfolk guards with faces hidden behind cloth.

Her covered eye had a little blood on it, but other than that, she looked fine but exhausted.

After a few more days of living the hellish but well routine that I was accustomed to, the door to our cell block opened, and the usual "men" in dark clothes and strange white cloth covering their faces came for Poppy.

One of them that I saw all my life had his fox-like ears covered in pitch black fur, a staple trait of the foxfolk.

The other foxian had dark rusty red fur with a white tip on his tail. Looking at us true, their blood shot eyes with disdain as they took Poppy for another session of experiments or fights with unknown purpose. It was a regular occurrence that hardly caught my attention, but this mundane day was about to change to a fateful one.

Some time after Poppy was taken came two unknown males with only visible features being their dark fur-covered ears and tails with strange demon-like full face masks. Only one person had a similar mask, and that was someone we call the director. He supervised most of the sessions that I went to.

A bland yet scary white mask covers the whole face, only leaving the eyes exposed. The eyes that seem to radiate pitch black darkness in the dimly lit room. Just thinking about him gives me chills.

It was the first time in a long time that anyone new came to take me out of the cell. I obeyed and went with them; defying them was something most all that lived long enough here long gave up on.

After we went through many corridors and stairs, soon I realized that they did not lead me to the usual places, and my usual tension increased further.

They were silent the whole time, not speaking even a word. After going through numerous corridors and staircases leading up, we arrived outside in a big courtyard surrounded by high walls.

I was not unfamiliar with it; it was the same place I received basic training some time ago.

Despite the harsh training and unforgiving guards, I liked and hated it here. We were always brought here during the night, and it was my only glimpse I got of the outside world.

It was night, and what I saw mesmerized me.

Above us, two moons cast their ghostly light over the years, surrounded by sky full of silent stars.

Then I looked down; besides the wall furthest from was something that made my stomach turn.

Three mostly decomposed heads on sticks, belonging to my fellow prisoners; none of them was much older than me; they tried to escape and paid the price; the guards made us watch when they were tortured and executed; it was a good reminder to stop dreaming about freedom.

The moment of reminiscing was interrupted by a kick delivered to my back by one of the masked men.

I flew for a moment before landing hard on the ground quite some distance from my previous spot, groaning. I looked their way and saw one of them stretching out his hand that had a white glove with a small flat circular object that was shining in a purple hue attached to the back of his hand; it aimed at me and gave me a bad feeling.

One of them spoke for the first time.

"You really want to use it on this hume rat? Is it not a waste?”

“Not at all; this one is almost empty and is only good for a few practice shots anyway. I had managed to amass enough merit from the last mission, so its replacement is almost ready and will be sent here from the headquarters.”

“Well fine, it is yours, so spend it how you want; just do not come to me when you get into debt again.”

His eyes glowed in a light red, almost pinkish color while he rubbed his fingers together, and suddenly a small ball of fire miraculously appeared between us; it started growing rapidly and soon reached approximately my size.

This was so different from my usual routine, and I was now certain...

“This is not a test; there is no one watching, and we are not in the normal underground arena. They must have deemed me a total failure after I failed to awaken my Ether core!”

He moved his hand slightly towards me, and the fireball shot at me at fast speed.

“There is nothing I can do; they will kill me... Free me… “

I closed my eyes, awaiting pain that would be my price for eternal freedom from this suffering.

Boom

..

.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM

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