The sky was especially bright and blue today.
It’s gone again, Yushia thought as he stared at the rotting rack of pickaxes. He stood inside a small, musty hut lined with mining equipment on the walls. Unfortunately, his favorite pickaxe had been taken for the dozenth time As routine, he chose an alternative pickaxe, one with its point chipped. It was the best he could find, but he paid little attention to it. Before leaving, he looked at the mud-stained window, too dirty to see through and instead stared at his reflection.
His face had hardly changed since he became a slave, still dirty and pitiful, merely a fraction of who he once was. His once bright blue eyes dulled, and his hair had become more unkept as the years passed. He'd grown taller and his voice sunk, but his body was noticeably slimmer, more toned.
He looked away from his reflection and lowered his head. Sorry.
“Y-Y-Yushia!”
A gray-skinned Arduian man stood outside the hut, out of breath. Xander was his name, always shirtless and wearing his overalls without the straps over his scrawny shoulders. His front teeth were bucked, and his white freckles spread across his face like stars in the night sky, though they weren’t as gorgeous to look at. Among the outcasts of CM-22, even he was an outcast among them; about the same level as Yushia. Despite his cowardly looks, however, it was well known that he was serving time for planning coups that never took off.
“M-Master C-Cliff would l-l-like to see us!” Xander shouted. His voice stuttered, afraid of the Cerulean.
A simple nod from Yushia made Arnie dash off, panting like a dog. He left the hut with his pickaxe and stepped foot into the center of the clearing where mining rails stretched in and out of a large rectangular door in the ground, similar to a cellar door. Carts rolled in and out, filled to the brim with foliated stone. This was the entrance to the mines, and the slaves who entered the hole would head off into the maze-like tunnels, in search of a legendary artifact that would free them of their slave status.
An ancient relic known as the Vermillion bird, a burning sword that was once used to conquer the continent of Kratia, Yushia reminded himself. When he first learned of it, he didn’t believe it at first. Supposedly, people had been looking for it for hundreds of years. There was no chance he or any of the other slaves would find it, and it begged the question on whether it truly existed. According to some slaves, the hunt had died down, and those who still searched were considered mad men. The tale of the Vermillion Bird was a mere fairy tale for children now.
Before setting off into the mines, Yushia stopped in front of a log cabin first: Master Cliff’s office. He knocked on the door and heard sniffling behind him.
“I was called here t-t-too...” Xander said, his voice sheepish. He made sure to stand a few meters away from Yushia.
Suddenly, the hinges of the cabin door creaked before flying open. Cliff Moire, a slender human supposedly in his late 70s stood tall inside his office. His face resembled a frog and he looked forty years younger than he really was. He wore a black suit the same color as his hair and had contrasting pasty-white skin. He smelled of burnt wood. “Good morning, Yushia, Xander.” Though young in appearance, his voice was still elderly.
“Goodmorning, Master Cliff,” Yushia said, looking up. “You wanted to see us?”
“Indeed,” he said, eyeing the Cerulean. He turned around. “Come inside.”
Yushia set his pickaxe outside as he stepped foot on the squeaking floorboards. A few bookshelves lined the walls next to the only window, and a desk in the corner had a mountain of paperwork behind a small nameplate that read the master’s name in fine gold. A boy around the same age as Yushia was already waiting, sitting in the middle of three chairs in front of the master’s desk. He was bigger and had blonde hair and dark green eyes. The boy’s name was Kran, and he glared at the two over his shoulder.
“Please take a seat,” Master Cliff said, walking behind his desk to sit down in his chair. He fixed the name plate on his desk as the others took their seat. “I’m sure you’re aware that a few days ago, some of my slaves died in the fifth layer. Starting tomorrow, the three of you will be taking their place to compensate for the loss of workers.”
A chair scraped the floor as Xander stood up, his breath heavy and hanging. “W-W-What!? Y-You know I c-c-can't go down there! My body, it’s too weak and fragile to handle the dust down there!”
Kran slouched in his seat and crossed his arms, smiling at the fact before interrupting. “The two of you will be under my care from now on when we traverse the fifth layer’s tunnels.”
Master Cliff stared at Kran and scrunched his face as if offended by his audacity to speak without permission. He’d pardoned Xander because that’s how he usually acted, but Kran was supposed to be obedient. He grabbed a pole from under his desk and hid it in his waistband. “Kran, step outside with me.”
Kran happily obeyed like a mutt. He and Master Cliff left the cabin, walking out to the back until they were visible through the only window. The master dug his hand into his pants and took out his pole, unraveling it into a whip before cracking it, slashing the slave in front of him.
“Son of a bitch!” Master Cliff roared. “Who let you speak out of turn?”
“I’m sorry!” Kran yelled, his body jerking as he fell on dirt. He whimpered and writhed as the whip rained down on him, coloring it red with his blood. “What about Xander!? You excused him but not me!?”
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Master Cliff bent down and took a handful of Kran’s hair, forcing his slave to look him in the eye. “He’ll get his punishment eventually. If he took the same beating as you, he’d die.”
Those words brought joy to Kran. To him, it meant he was strong.
Yushia covered his ears and remained silent as he heard the whip cracking again. He looked over to Xander who gnawed at his nails feverishly, in his own world stressing about the situation. He mumbled, “I seriously can’t go! I’ll die the moment I arrive... The dust... The dust!”
The lashings suddenly paused, and Yushia uncovered his ears to listen to the conversation outside.
Master Cliff whispered into Kran’s ear. “You should be fucking glad you’re doing this job for me. Do you understand?”
“I understand, so please...”
Master Cliff drove his foot into Kran’s stomach before instructing him to stand. He acted as if nothing happened and walked back into the cabin with the teary-eyed slave right behind him, his eyes cast down like a shameful dog.
He’s just as bad as those Igneelians, Yushia thought. How can he walk back in here without a shred of guilt for what he just did?
Sitting back down in his chair, Master Cliff sighed and gave a warm smile. The three were still on edge, and as he shot his threatening eyes at them, they each fixed their posture and sat straight. “I shall continue now without interruption, I would hope. Starting tomorrow, the two of you will be working in the fifth layer, and Kran here will be guiding you two through it. Please be careful down there. If you all die, it’ll be hell for me getting more slaves up to these parts of the mountain.”
Kran nodded slowly, this time without any comments.
“Are there any questions?” Master Cliff asked.
The air went silent except for the chattering of Xander’s teeth. “W-Wait! Make an exception for me, Master Cliff! I beg of you, just this once!”
Ignoring him, Master Cliff stood up from his chair and walked to the door, opening it for his slaves. “I’m glad there are no questions from any of you. You are all dismissed to continue your work in the mines.”
The short discussion came to a close as Yushia was first to leave the cabin, picking up his pickaxe outside before heading to the hole in the ground.
“Hey, you,” Kran called out suddenly, approaching the Cerulean.
Yushia turned around to the boy. “Yes?” he replied. He hadn’t noticed it before, but a red streak ran along the side of Kran’s neck, already scabbing.
“Are you scared of the fifth layer?”
Yushia shrugged. Truthfully speaking, he only knew about the warnings spread by the slaves. He already had a gas mask as well, so he had one less problem on his plate.
Kran clicked his tongue and gripped the Cerulean’s shoulder. The response worsened his temper, and after suffering numerous lashings, he needed someone to take his anger out on. “Don’t give me that shit attitude of yours. I asked a simple question, and you can’t even give me a proper answer? if I wanted to, I could abandon you in the fifth layer tomorrow and you’ll never see the day of light again!”
Yushia spoke plainly and stared at the ground. “I understand.”
“What?” Kran grabbed hold of Yushia’s overalls. “I didn’t hear you correctly. Look up at me and say it like you mean it or I’ll seriously abandon.”
“Let’s not do this,” Yushia said. He was already familiar with this intimidation tactic, and almost always it led to a fight. “Let’s not do this toady, I wouldn’t want to get into a fight in front of Master Cliff’s office. We’ll both get in troubl—”
“Like I give a damn. I would’ve let you off easy, but that Cerulean attitude of yours really is shit.” He clenched his hand into a fist and twisted his body, readying a punch.
Yushia bit his lip when he heard the name of his people; it stung to hear his people being spoken of so negatively. As Kran’s fist dove at his face, Yushia ducked and pushed him away, making him tumble back and fall on his butt.
“Mother fucker...!” Kran scrambled to get back up. The only way to keep face now was to beat the boy in front of him to a pulp. “Cerulean piece of shit! I’ll show you who you’re messing with!”
Yushia's could hardly think. His body had moved on its own, straying from reason. He didn’t want to fight, but as he watched Kran’s growing anger and words, his body said otherwise, and he planted his feet firmly into the ground.
Catching his breath, Kran shouted again and charged with another desperate punch.
Yushia’s feet smushed the dirt as he exploded off the ground. His muscles in his calves bulged, enlarging to double its size. As Kran’s fist was inches away from smashing into his face, he weaved under, driving his own fist into Kran’s stomach.
Stumbling back again, Kran spat out blood. He held his stomach and groaned, unable to speak properly.
Yushia’s lips trembled, shocked at what he had done. His jaw opened and his words slipped. “You don’t know anything about Ceruleans...”
“Fuck yeah!” shouted one slave.
Yushia’s head shot up, finally noticing all the slaves that had formed a circle around him to watch. His anxiety overwhelmed him as the slaves chanted for which slave they wanted to see win the fight.
“Damn you...” Kran mumbled. He rose slowly to one knee, reaching into his back pocket for his knife. “I should’ve used this from the beginning.”
The number of people had become too much. Yushia’s head frantically whipped left and right, searching for a way to escape, but among the crowd there wasn’t any. He looked back at Kran, and to his surprise, rushed at him with a blade.
“Gust.”
Wind rushed the space between the two fighting, sending them both flying their separate ways and into the crowd of slaves. The slaves looked back to see their master stomping toward them. Immediately, they dispersed.
In Master Cliff’s right hand, he held an open grimoire. His offhand—aimed at the two kids—was open with threads of ether dissipating into the air. Should they quarrel again, he would have to use another spell.
Blind by rage, Kran coughed up his blood and charged at Yushia again with another shout.
“Updraft!” Master Cliff shouted. An arrow of ether left his palms, binding Kran as he threw him a dozen meters into the air, dropping him back down to the floor with a loud thud.
The boy went quiet as the air in his body knocked out of him
Master Cliff then stared at the Cerulean who dared look at him the way he did with his monstrous eyes. He redirected his palm at him too. “Barbarians will be barbarians, even after 200 years. Pitiful vermin of Inanis.”
A heavy bolt of wind smashed the side of Yushia’s head like a hammer, knocking him unconscious.