Teris drifted in and out of consciousness. He didn't know where he was, but in his more lucid moments he knew it had to be somewhere safe. He'd be long dead by now if he hadn't made it home somehow. Even when he felt awake enough to think, however, his vision was dark. He didn't know if there was something over his eyes or if he was blind, but he desperately hoped that it was the latter. He couldn't bear the light being taken from him along with everything else. The pain hadn't abated either, only steadied to a constant burning pain. Teris had tried to meditate into his past lives, but he couldn't reach the focus. This disturbed him most of all. Of his generation, he had been the most skilled in attaining the meditative state that all true Inheritors used to further their understanding of their own soul, and Teris had proved that by Awakening first of anyone his age. He had been close to his second too, he was sure of it, before Abel had torn it all away. All Inheritors needed a solid mental and physical foundation to advance, and Teris had lost his.

Will I ever get it back?

The question scared Teris, and he stopped trying.

In one of his moments between dreaming and waking, he overheard snippets of a conversation between two older voices.

"He's an incredible talent. We can't afford to lose him like this."

"Talents come and go. The rules of the tribe stay unchanged. He would doubtless have been an incredible warrior, but he is not worth violating our principles for, especially now Abel has attained his second Awakening at such a young age."

"But- "

Sleep took Teris again.

An unknown amount of time passed before the bandages over his face (and they were bandages, thank god) were cut away to let him see again, revealing his location to be a Cissic medical tent. Teris very quickly wished for the blessing of ignorance. The first thing he saw was his leg, and any thoughts he had of recovery were instantly crushed. His knee had been pulverized, and even the thought of moving it filled him with a nauseous terror. He couldn't see the extent of the internal damage Abel had wrought on him, but he could feel it, and it made itself known through the constant coughing fits he experienced, as well as the blood from his mouth that accompanied them. He hadn't been given a mirror, but his mouth was a single mass of agony. His jaw was held shut by a single remaining bandage, tied around the top of his head and under his chin, and he could still feel the bloody holes of his missing teeth.

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Worst of all though, were the looks on everyone's faces. The doctors stared at him with disdain, annoyed to be wasting their time on someone so obviously crippled. The few of his "friends" that visited him did so with barely disguised mirth, some part of them happy to see their better reduced to this. None of them ever visited twice. As the days went by the reality of Teris' situation sunk in deeper. He was on a knife edge. There was clearly some debate over whether any more tribe resources should be devoted to his care or not, given his current predicament, and Teris was painfully aware that he was living on borrowed time. He knew his loan was up when he saw Kohar walk through the entrance at dawn on the fifth day after he regained his sight. He was a tall man, unlike Teris, but his movements held the same lithe lethality within them as his student's once had. Teris had copied his longer, neck-length hair, and had so far unsuccessfully tried to emulate Kohar's beard.

Kohar was a man who had taken a special interest in Teris from an early age, noting his talent early and taking great strides to develop it. It had been Kohar who guided him through his first Awakening, who had taught him the exercises necessary to grow into his acquired skills, and Kohar who had taught him just about everything else he knew.

Teris had never seen Kohar look at him like this before though. The emotions in his eyes were close to disgust, but tinged with pity and annoyance, as if he was a prized animal that had suddenly hurt itself.

Teris suddenly felt very small. This wasn't the same man he knew. He felt... distant. Cold. This proved itself to be true once Kohar opened his mouth, not even bothering to look Teris in the eyes.

"The clan's leadership has discussed the outcome of your altercation with Abel and deemed you to be at fault. Punishment has been suspended indefinitely due to your injuries, but as you are now unable to contribute to the survival of the Cissic you will be moved to the Pit, where you will remain until the slavers come next month, at which point you will be sold and stripped of your family name. Do you have any questions?"

Teris lay in disbelief. He had known his outcome wouldn't be good but this was beyond anything he had imagined. Slavery. The inescapable consequence of defeat in the Northern and Western Isles. Win, and gain servants for life. Lose, and pour the wine yourself. His life had ended before he had even seen sixteen summers. Alone, and out of options, Teris did something he never had before.

He begged.

Every word caused him agony with his jaw still held tight by the bandage, but desperation drove him through the pain.

"Kohar, please. Please don't let this happen. I can get better, you know me, you taught me everything. I'll heal some of the damage when I get my second Awakening, just please don't sell me. Please, Kohar, please."

Tears fell from Teris' eyes, and he was vaguely aware that this was the first time he could remember that he had cried in front of another. For a second, Kohar's eyes softened, and Teris saw a glimpse of the man he knew. Just for a second. The gaze hardened again, and Kohar spat on the floor.

"We will need this bed soon for a tribesman who was wounded in battle. If you are not gone by the time I return, I'll cut your throat and dump you in the river."

With that, Kohar left Teris broken in the tent. Alone.

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