More than a hundred slaves were hanged and a hundred more were tortured. Some were real rebels and some just looked like one.

Koy’s extreme ways of keeping the peace continued but his hate for slaves was making it hard for the rest of the slaves to simply standby and watch, as he was killing more of their countrymen and families every day and most of them died because they were called slaves by these bloodthirsty people.

The only man who could calm them and gave them some respect Orman, was prisoned by Gussar and a lot of them became raiders but still, slaves were too many and they were everywhere. From the lowest of tasks to the most vital jobs were hung on their shoulders. All they needed was an opportunity to rise and put up a fight that Gorgans would never forget even if their lives were at stake, even death was more honorable than living as a slave for these savages of the Midlands.

In the fourth week in the nameless town, a plague started spreading between Gorgans. Weirdly slaves were immune to it.

The plague wasn’t caused by no humans or any creature or edibles.

On the seventh day of the fourth week, this plague started to show itself and it was right before Orman talk to his mysterious visitor.

He was in his cage doing his time and slowly witnessing his life fading away in his prison truck.

From time to time he had some delightful moments with his slaves who secretly came to his visit, bringing the old man some food or fruits it wasn’t much but it still showed that slaves considered him a friend and a savior.

As the slave rebellion grew larger and raiders kept making slaves’ lives more miserable each day, Orman’s visitors became less to the time that he wasn’t visited once by no soul by the time Gorgans stopped in the nameless town, except one man.

In the pure darkness of the night when the moon was completely lightless a man with his face covered with bandages wearing a ragged cloak walking as if he was crippled like Orman opened his prison truck locks and welcomed himself inside Orman’s prison.

The sound of the three raiders guarding his prison truck choking on their vomit was hardly heard from the outside.

The strange sick man was confident and was not worried at all.

He said no word and came closer, Orman could see his yellowed eyes rotten teeth, and part of his burnt-like skin that was covered loosely by the bandages, but his smell was the worst. The skinny sick man smelled like shit and rotten eggs and dead fish it was so unbearable it made Orman throw up his recently eaten dinner.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“What are you?” Orman asked as he spat the remaining half-digested food in his mouth on the floor.

The sick man laughed, coughed lowly, and sat a few steps away from Orman.

“Doesn’t matter who I am.” His voice was weak like a man saying his last words on his deathbed.

“What matters is what I can do. I can make empires crumble and yours is no exception”

Orman noticed a small shiny piece of metal that the sick man wore as a necklace opposing the rest of his clothes as he listened to him.

The sick man found out Orman was staring at his necklace “It’s a proof of existence gifted to me by he who once cared for you”

“What do you want from me?” Orman asked and he was trying to stay calm and hide his fear.

“Wise man you are” The sick man continued “I’m here to make a deal that will benefit us both”

“And what is that deal”

“Tell me first, if a strong man becomes sick wouldn’t you say even an eight-year-old child with enough motivation can kill him”

“Depends who is the man and who is the child and what sickness he has,” Orman said.

“The man is the strongest the sickness is deadly but kills slowly and the child is thirsty for his revenge from the man who rapes and tortures his mother and sister daily and treats them as slaves” the sick man answered.

“Then I would say the child has to try even if he dies trying” Orman said.

“Ah… but the key is sickness, it’s an opportunity, not a disease. It’s caused to make the ones in the power to think twice It’s here to make some sort of a balance and I want you to be sure…” the sick man coughed up some blood.

“Here take this” Orman gave the sick man some water.

He refused to drink any and after his lunges relaxed he continued “That you will keep this balance after the plague”

“The plague? Is this your doing? How?” Orman asked he had many more questions

“This is an opportunity. Make use of it” The sick man got up and started walking out slowly with his crippled legs “Do we have a deal?”

Orman was confused, who was he? How could he unleash a plague and how does no one notice him? But one thing was sure. If the sick man can give him a chance at freedom and make things right and put Gussar in his place he would gladly take it “Yes”

The sick man got out but before his weak voice fades away completely he said his last words “I am Famine, always dying but never buried”

His last words made Orman forget to breathe for a few seconds.