Chapter 53: Live

“Do you yearn for strength, little girl?”

The girl’s eyes shifted from fear to confusion, those menacing golden eyes however persisted in their glaring stare right into her soul.

Nervously, she stammered out, “Wh– what?”

Her voice was weak, fragile, and soft but in the long empty tunnels of the stone cavern that voice echoed into eternity.

Contrastingly, the same booming voice filled the tunnels once again, overwhelming the echoes of that gentle and subdued song.

“Power. Might. Force. To wield such strength that no one steps on you again, child. Do you yearn for it?”

The voice was not loud yet it held a quality to it that could only be described as powerful. That same voice allowed the soft one to ring out again and overlay it.

“I– I– I…”

Confusion and hesitation met certainty, and certainty spoke once again.

“I will not force you. But take a look around, child.”

The golden menacing eyes turned to Cole.

“You look too, you gutless coward.”

“All that is around you, the events that just happened to you, the very life you live, is because of your weakness.”

“Look at your lover, bruised, beaten and broken.”

And indeed, Yela turned her gaze to Cole. One of his eyes was so swollen that it took up half of his face. Bruises riddled every part of his body, and it was easier to see now that he had no shirt on, but there were so many red, blue and purple marks on his body that it was like a zebra’s. The boy looked absolutely pitiful to anyone else but to her, it was especially heartbreaking.

Tears started to come out of her eyes and the tightness in her chest started to return. The hand she held tighter also seemed to be skinnier than when she last met him. It was obvious that the boy was not eating and she was right. The bread given to him was always either stolen or beaten out of him. If he was lucky he could have a few bites before it was taken from him.

“Now look at yourself.”

The girl followed the instruction and saw that though she wasn’t as badly beaten as Cole, bruises and cuts still riddled her body. There was a large, dirty, purple mark on her face from when one of the girls of the group kicked her with her bare foot. There were similar bruises on her chest, stomach, arms and legs.

“And the life that you live.”

Slavery. The very act of those stronger than her forcing them to work for eight to sixteen hours a day. Then, there was the way her mother was treated by the other slaves. The things they said about her, and the things they said about her children, Kara and herself. Yela thought about all of these things.

“All of this, is because of your weakness.”

Yela let out a breath, the air in her stomach was painfully let out. The persistent and compelling voice led to those words hammering within her heart. Although obviously her circumstances and situation were not caused by her, the reality that she was believed to follow indeed made sense on some level. The notion that if she was not so weak, that everything would be different if she wasn’t, was something she started to deeply believe in.

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“But unlike the one next to you, you are able to fight. You are brave enough, to fight for more.”

The pain within her chest grew deeper. It was not betrayal but when Cole froze twice, her heart dropped. Relying on someone at your time of need, just to see them fail to deliver, was a harsh thing.

“I see your hesitation.”

“Do not make a decision now, but think it over.”

The glowing golden eyes left her vision. Slowly the tall man got up from his one knee, turned his back on them, and started to walk out of the tunnel. His steps echoed through the long caves even when he could no longer be seen. The same effect was true within Yela’s mind. The points that he said and the offer that he made lingered even when the echoes of his steps disappeared and Balon was totally gone.

Yela then felt the embrace of the boy that held her. Numerous, conflicting emotions swam and mixed in her heart. Confusion, resentment, indignation, discontent, sorrow, hate, disappointment, relief and love. She did not know what to do with those emotions but the one thing she did know was that she wanted comfort. Tears flowed out of her eyes and it was the same for the boy. Yela laid his head on his chest and sobbed, gasps of air and stifled whimpers filled the tunnel. Cole meanwhile held his voice in his throat with tears slowly falling down on the girl’s hair.

…

Zan was exiting his tent. Well, his forcefully seized tent. This morning when Conrad was released from the medical lodgings that refuged him, or more specifically when Gayle kicked him out after he was fully healed, he met the same stranger inside his royal dwelling. Zan was sitting inside, closing his eyes as if he were meditating. The stranger made it his home, treating his tent as if it was already his.

Conrad went through a rollercoaster of emotions. Surprise, indignation and fury, followed by unwilling acceptance.

‘What the? It’s that guy! Why is he in my tent!?’

This was the same tent that his family had given him when he told them he was going to go on an adventure to become one of the royal descendant’s vassals. His family was both worried, yet proud of their son who would go on such a perilous journey to become something and make more of himself. They knew that his travels would take him far and wide, so his mother and father commissioned a tent made from the finest of mutant beast leathers.

The tent was designed to be extremely resistant towards the heat and cold while remaining exceptionally comfortable, lightweight, and elegant. Little did they know however, that their son’s gift would turn into Zan’s possession.

Conrad became furious when he realized that the stranger had forcefully taken his family gifted tent for himself. Scales started to emerge from his skin and his pupils turned into slits. His once brown eyes, turned into a glowing orange. The glow of his eyes were not as radiant or beautiful as Balon’s but they were still quite imposing. For a distant bloodline of the main draconic family, the glow of Conrad’s eyes were already quite bright, showcasing his talent. Yet, that talent meant nothing when it met the stranger.

Zan, who was closing his eyes, suddenly opened them and the youth felt what it was like to feel existential superiority and dread. That single glowing red eye seemed to balloon into something bigger than himself and the mere aura of the one before him scared him out of his draconic transformation.

The red haired eldritch monster suddenly got a sick idea, and consciously used the power of will to empower his intentions. Zan only wanted to scare away the rightful owner of the tent. He had already claimed it was his afterall, so technically he was the rightful owner now! Though…he did not control his power too well and the results he got were immensely different from what he had planned.

The power of will entered his eye whilst also entering the invisible aura that he emitted. An illusion of a floating eyeball the size of the world enveloped Conrad’s vision. It was as if it was the only thing in existence and it was looking at him with unsurpassed wrath. Who was this puny ant that had trespassed into its domain!?

To conclude, Conrad passed out white pissing himself at the entrance of Zan’s tent.

Gayle was luckily, or unluckily, passing by and had to handle the business herself. Servants came around to clean and freshen the tent, while Conrad was relocated to the medical lodgings once again. It was a shame too, for they were supposed to restart traveling towards the slave city once Conrad was conscious and fully healed. Delayed by a day, the caravan could only keep themselves busy with new plans that they had to create.

Zan exited the tent during this time. He took a break, and a breather into the outside while the servants removed the scent of urine from his new lodgings.

One of the pure servants nervously approached him. It was the apprentice of the leatherworker that he commissioned and he was approaching Zan to notify him of the completion of his request.

The apprentice was expecting Zan to lash at him, like Conrad often did. Many of their masters were not kind to them with the exception of Gayle. All the pure servants who met, and had not met Zan, thought he was from a bloodline too. What pure human would be so strong that he could force all their masters to heel?

Instead of lashing out at the apprentice however, he was met with a smile and a “good job.” First, he was surprised and dumbfounded, but the apprentice quickly snapped out of it and took him to the leatherworker’s dwellings to fetch the item. The apprentice would have given it to Zan himself, but he simply could not because the item was too heavy.

Zan entered the leather master's tent and what met him was the great beauty that he commissioned the workers to create. It was a large, leather backpack. Everything was normal of course, except for its size. Almost all the leather that they had gathered in their journey went into the creation of the backpack. It was enforced with many layers of leather and the backpack itself was around seven feet in height and five feet in width.

Their new master smiled with great joy. Zan was planning to outfit this backpack with whatever he needed, but of course what he really was going to use it for, was to store tremendous amounts of food on top of cooking ware.

Zan easily grabbed the backpack with one arm and slung it onto his back. Luckily the workers were smart enough to think about the location and width of the straps related to Zan’s body. The pure servants then watched as Zan happily trotted back to his tent, the figure of a seven foot rectangular shadow passing by wherever he went…