First Aeon, the year 934 After Dawn

Seagulls circled the mast of a sailing ship. The wood was creaking over the waves crashing into the bow on a bright and sunny day. The mast bore a sword sigil wrapped in thorny vines. On the horizon, there was nothing but stretching sea.

Inside the ship's hold, dozens of people were sitting in rows, tied up and only wearing dirty, ragged clothing. It was dead silent. Some vomited because of the rocking ship, but the slavemasters didn't care. As long as their bile didn't get in their path, all they did was put up a smug smirk seeing everyone suffer so much. If it did, you would bear the painful consequences. They just slowly paced around, dragging their whip across the floor with them. The dragging sound was a way of them to scare people. Reminded them what they were holding in their hands.

One of those prisoners was restless, like most of them, darting her weak amber eyes around all the time. When one of the slavers was far enough and not facing her, she used her toes to nudge the one sitting in front of her.

No reaction.

With a quiet, whispering tone, she nudged the person again while keeping an eye on the slaver. The sound of her whisper had a shiver in it. "Where are we going?"

She could see the person's back covered in red whip marks. Some were bloody, and some turned the skin around black and purple. Seeing that made her feel sick. But at the same time, it made her sweat, even more, realizing the situation she was in was even worse than she thought.

Because she didn't get a response, she sighed within herself, closing her eyes for a short moment. But all of a sudden, she felt an extreme wave of pain radiating throughout her entire body, making her release a piercing yelp, followed by the sound of a whip echoing through the hold. She didn't notice there was another slaver behind her.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Quiet, scum!" he growled. His brown leather uniform squeaked a little bit with every step. His jack was sleeveless, and it revealed intimidating tattoos on his arm. The elegant way they spoke hinted their Eryan origin.

She moaned softly, tilting her torso towards the side that got hit with quick, painful breaths. When both keepers were far enough, she heard a quiet voice behind her.

"Volaria."

"Volaria?" She thought to herself. The Land of Sand, as many called it.

Jarring bells sounded above. Even though it wasn't that loud, it was still ear-piercing. It meant there was land in sight, so who knows what would happen next. About ten minutes later, the ship started docking. She could tell by the slow and sharp turns the ship made. But something was wrong. The prisoners' heads rose up, looking towards the ceiling when they heard thumps and muffled screams above. She heard it as well.

"What are you waiting for? Figure out what's going on!" said one of the slavers to the other. The slaver rushed towards the door that led to the stairs, but immediately flew back and crashed onto the ground as the door was kicked in.

"There's no need for that!" a deep voice emerged from upstairs. Someone walked down the stairs. A muscled man in full steel armor, fine black hair braided in thin locks touching his shoulder pads. Four men in the same steel armor accompanied him. Two were holding bows while the others held swords. With the one slaver on the ground, the other still didn't know what just happened. Without remorse, one of the archers sent an arrow right into the standing slaver's shoulder. A loud groan filled the room before he fell on his knees.

"Tie these slavers up and lock them in the dungeons." The leader said, then looked back up the stairs, calling more people over.

"The hold is clear, as well. Free these prisoners and bring every single one of them to the infirmary."

A dozen men walked down the stairs, and every single of them bore the same sigil on their chest. A flame encircled by the sun. They started untying the prisoners and helping them up. Some were even too weak to be standing on their own feet. When someone approached the girl, she immediately wanted to know answers.

"What is happening? Where are we?" her voice still having a hint of pain from the whip she received earlier.

The man helped her up and cut her ties. "You have been freed from slavery by order of commander Marlock. You're in the city of Jiron. Just liberated by our cause."

"Cause? What cause?"

"The Flames of Dawn, our rebellion. Our goal is to overthrow the seat in the Citadel in Erye. As you might already know, they're the cause of all of this. Follow the other soldiers, and they will lead you all to the healers' infirmary. Welcome to Jiron."