"A Slave. That's all I ever was.", The thought comes to me as I mine the mithril ores. 

My weary, small hands nearly collapse bearing the weight of the pickaxe. I lift the pickaxe high above my head and as it strikes the ore with a clang, my body fails me. I fall on the floor of coal and rock, with the sharp edges pricking holes across my body. 

In that state, as I try to pick myself up from the ground, a whip lashes out on my back. A fresh scar forms on my body, adorning the bruises from the previous times I had faced the monstrosity of this cowhide. 

I cough up blood, and my body forces me to lie back down. I am powerless. But to prevent another scar from forming, I lift my skinny body with all my strength. I hold back the handle of my pickaxe, and continue mining. 

The man holding the whip, the man we refer to as Master, proceeds to spit on the back of my head and bursts into laughter. I grind my teeth as I hear his voice. Of all I had given up to this world, I could never handle the loss of my dignity. 

For the last time, I clench my pickaxe tightly and swing it towards his head in rage. However, instead of piercing through his skull, the pickaxe only managed to pierce through his cheek and break a few of his teeth. 

The fat pork-bellied bastard shrieked in pain, "Aaaghk! You son of a bitch!"

My strength was with me no longer. But the bastard managed to get up, pull the pickaxe out and spit out his broken teeth. And while I was still on the ground, the other slaves noticed this incident and stopped mining. 

As blood dripped from his mouth, the pig spoke in a coarse voice, "I knew the day I fucked your whore of a mother, that you were disloyal. It runs in your fucking blood." He grabbed my head by my hair as he squatted down and continued, "I will chop off every part of your body until you cry and beg. And oh, I will enjoy every moment of it." 

With the bastard distracted, another slave managed to swing his pickaxe towards this man's head. Unlike me, he did not miss. The pickaxe pierced our Master's skull as pieces of his brain splattered everywhere. 

As I looked up, I saw the boy covered in blood. I could tell he was a new slave here looking at his clothing, but with my blurred vision, I couldn't see much. "Don't worry, it has been done." As he said those words, I rested my head back on the ground and enjoyed a moment of peace.

Soon after this, the slaves began to talk. Some were terrified and shrieked, some began to talk with each other, some rested like me, and others simply walked out. With no plan of action, a man among us, began to speak, "Men! We must first eat and return to gaining our lost strength! Let us make way to the storage, and feast!" 

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Most of the slaves thought of his idea to hold value, and proceeded to the area where all the food was kept. They limped and crawled their way to the storage. A few of the older men, who had been in the mine for decades, couldn't help but feel traumatized. They were free, yet it was hard for them to fathom such a feeling. An old man shivered as he spoke, "No, you have no idea what you have just done. They will come after you! They will kill us all! We are all doomed! Aaaaahh!" The other slaves ignored the traumatized old man, and thought nothing of his words. 

The boy held my body up and brought me all the way to the storage room. As we entered, we saw 3 piles of hard bread, stacked up. Looking at the quantity, I could tell this amount wouldn't be enough. The slaves, that had not eaten for days, did not think about such trivial matters. They rushed towards the food and ate like pigs. The boy tried to stop them, but he failed to control the crowd. 

Soon, they ended up pushing and fighting for food. The boy fought too, and brought some food for the both of us. "Here sir, take this." He handed over 2 buns of the hard, moldy bread. Many of the stronger slaves were able to eat, while the weak were unable to do much to claim the food in front of them.

After the stock was over, the men began eying the minerals. Before, as slaves, even though we were surrounded by rich minerals such as coal, mithril and mana ores, we could only pass them on to our master. And since we were weak, there was little we could have done to actually escape with it. But now, with the Master of the quarry gone, there was no one around to control us. Now, we could lay claim to all the wealth this quarry had offered. 

And so, another fight ensued. Slaves fought with slaves to obtain wealth to live lavishly in the outside world. While the fight mainly involved the stronger slaves fighting through words and debates, soon, I knew, they would resort to violence. 

With some of my strength restored with the food, I could now walk and speak. I spoke to the teenage boy with my dull voice, "We... We need to leave." 

The boy spoke, "I will gather some minerals for our journey, and I'll tell the weak ones to come along."

I spoke, "No, boy, we must leave now. While we still have the chance. The slaves... The men here are not as kind and rational as you might think."

The boy abided by my words, and lent me support as we walked out. As we exited the dark quarry, I could hear the sounds of the men fighting and crying out in pain. They had already begun to resort to violence; but that was none of our concern now. Now we had exited that darkness.