Author's Comment:

If you find mistakes, pls tell, thx. I don't like mistakes.

Author's Comment:

I was asked about reading my work on other sites.

The answer is simple: Currently I am not active in any other networks than royalroadl.com. Only here, I correct mistakes and errors.

If you read it anywhere else and have to pay for it, or have to deal with an annoying amount of advertisement, You Are Being Betrayed.

You would do good if you make other people in that network aware of it. This is a free project of mine for the purpose of having fun. And if people try to make money with it you shouldn't bother visiting their website.

The only one whom I actually allowed to have my work on his website is Armaell who invested the time to compile them into pdf.

(http://armaell-library.net/author/andur)

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“In Greek mythology, a satyr is one of a troop of ithyphallic male companions of Dionysus with equine (horse-like) features, including a horse-tail and horse-like ears. The satyrs' chief was Silenus, a minor deity associated with fertility.”

- The Journey to the Afterlife

***Dedessia, the Sea of Souls, Clan: Inanimatum***

***Shade, 6 years old***

“I can't believe it! They are making children clean the sewers on a daily routine!” Legna appears out of one of the drainage pipes, pushing unpleasant stuff ahead of her. She is dirty all over and her face is bright red from the exhaustion. “This isn't training! This is our death! We will all die down here. If the slimes don't get us then we will catch some sickness and then we are goners! I am sure that they won't pay a healer for us.”

Zanders gestures for her to calm down. “Don't make so much noise. The slimes could be attracted by it. And don't you think there is a reason why they send us? We are the only ones who can do this job since we are small and have strong passive regeneration abilities.” He raises his light higher to see further down his part of the sewer. “Shade, shouldn't you use your light? We are the watchers, the others trust us to keep an eye out while they work.”

I squint my eyes and look away from him. The glowball in his hand is annoyingly bright. “No, I can see perfectly fine. Apparently it comes with being a shade.”

Aswang appears out of his own pipe, dropping dirt into the main sewer tunnel. “I don't get why they call shades weak. I too want to see in the dark. Diving through shadows, healing up instantly and changing your form once you get stronger. What's weak about that?”

“Have you ever seen a shadow hurt someone?” I ask annoyed. Though my newly discovered senses are awesome. I haven't told my team how exactly I can see in the dark. It isn't really seeing, but more like sonar. Once I concentrate I get a three dimensional image of my surroundings in my head.

Our new task in the sewers is supposed to train us, but I think the overseers just want to humiliate us. And to crush our hope of escape.

They showed us the wasteland and swamps outside the city. Only a few small areas are actually usable to build fields. Inanimatum owns a small city in the middle of nowhere. And if what they told us is true, then even escape can't save us.

Let's say that we escape the city and let's also assume that we manage to cross the dead zone to another clan. Will they even take us with their limited resources? Or will they dispatch of unneeded mouths right then and there?

Distraught, I reach for my shadow and push against it. My fingers turn dark and dissolve in a black mist, fusing with the twilight. My mana resources start dwindling and I retreat my hand when it gets tiring. I repeat this small exercise regularly. According to our trainer it is the only method to slowly get full control over our abilities. But what's actually limiting me is my mana pool. “If they just would tell us anything of use! Like how far it is to the next safe zone.”

Legna appears out of the pipe next to me and dirt splashes onto my feet when she drops a dead animal into the sewer. Her face is pale and tired. The work in these pipes gets to her. “Right! Any other mighty wishes? Stupid they would be! Telling us about other clans. They want to keep us ignorant as far as it doesn't concern our fighting power.”

The group keeps talking about various things, but before long I have to interrupt them. Something is moving in my tunnel. A deformed mass with a different density than the walls is approaching us. It has the rough shape of a humanoid. I grab the small spear in my hands tighter. “We have a problem. Slime incoming!”

The slimes are some kind of zombies. The entire sewer system is infested with them and two of the other groups already lost members to the creatures. That takes our barrack down to three teams with five people and one with four. Manticore thinks that they are actually slave soldiers like us who died in the sewers. They are slow and stupid, but they can jump a short distance. The only real danger is being careless and to walk right into them. The two people who died walked unsuspecting around a corner and stepped right into jumping range.

“On my way!” Legna quickly returns from her pipe and takes the jump down into the musky water of the sewer. She and Manticore are the only ones who can do anything against the slimes. Poking it with our spears only angers the things and that's pretty much the only option Zanders, Aswang and I have.

Both Manticore and Legna take their positions while I pull my glowball from my pocket and throw it down the tunnel. It lands with a wet smack on the creature's chest, sticking there. The stupid slime draws it into its body, trying to dissolve and absorb the glowball with its acids. Our strategy is already well trained and has proven itself.

The eerie green light of the glowball illuminates the transparent parts of the slime, revealing bones and partly dissolved tissue, turning it into a perfect practice target.

I decide that there is no need to watch the scene any further and hide behind the tunnel entrance. Bursts of light from Legna's lightball attacks flash the tunnel with bright light while Manticore shoots her poisonous fingernails at the creature. When their attacks end I take a look around the corner and find my glowball in a puddle of slowly expanding slime with a half dissolved child in between. I hurry towards it and retrieve my hated light-source. I am sure that it is somewhat wrong, but darkness puts me more at ease than the light.

The darkness is my friend and hides me while the light restricts me.

“Shade, you are always so quick to hide while we do all the work,” teases Legna.

“Shut up! When I look into one of your lightballs I can't see for over a minute,” I complain.

I too want some kind of ranged attack, but right now my mana resources are too meagre to perform any kind of spell. Even if I actually remember a few basic ones. It would be so nice if I were able to test them.

“Enough you two. Shade isn't a fighter, he is more the assassin type. We should be glad that we have someone with keen senses. Let's return to the exit. We are a little overdue anyway,” says Zanders.

Manticore wrinkles her nose which is blocked by two pieces of wood. “My sense of smell is also keen!”

“Then take out those blocks and actually try breathing through your nose.” Aswang follows Zanders and we fall in line behind them.

Manticore doesn't answer. We all know that she can't take the smell. The last time she tried she lost all her breakfast and we had to share our scarce stolen food with her so that she doesn't go hungry all day.

We make our way back through the sewer system, always opening and closing heavy metal doors with bars in front and behind us. It is a way to keep nastier things than slimes out of the sewers.

Halfway out of the mad maze we encounter two of the overseers. They conjured up magelights which hover above their shoulders and illuminate the tunnel perfectly.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

One of them approaches us with a sneer. “Look, there is our little goblin group. What took you so long? Have you seen the others?”

“Sorry, why are you searching for us? We are just a little overdue because we encountered a slime,” answers Zanders. A half lie. Nobody in our group has the wish to return to our overseers faster than necessary.

The other man trots forward and past us. “One of the groups was split by a broken door. Only two returned. Follow us, we have to find the other three.”

Wordlessly we follow the overseers. There is nothing to talk about. They gave us a command and asking questions can only earn us a beating.

After a while we arrive at the problematic door, but there is no sign of our three missing workers. One of the overseers grumbles and attaches the electric stick in his hand to his belt. I find their weapons a little off place.

It would fit their nature much better if they had pitchforks instead.

He growls when nothing happens upon using the lever to open the bars. Both overseers together lift the bars of the gate and instruct us to use the lever to lock it. The bars stay in position, but the lever seems to be broken and falls back without someone holding it down. It's rusty and old.

“You, hold it down and keep the door open until we return!” One of the overseers gestures at Zanders and our comrade's collar glows in a golden light. Zanders takes over the lever with a dead expression on his face and the two overseers make their way into the tunnel.

When they are gone Manticore steps over to Zanders and waves her hand in front of his face. Everyone's eyes turn to me.

I already used various opportunities to warn them of telling anyone their true names. Like 'don't talk about the past' and more subtle suggestions. I used every opportunity I got to drop hints. So this time I simply shrug my shoulders and focus my gaze on his collar. “It seems like names hold power.” They are no idiots. Even a dimwit should have gotten it by now.

Manticore reaches for Zanders's collar and tries to take it off, but it doesn't budge. Aswang shows a little more sense. “Stop. Even if you get it off, they would put a new one on him as soon as we are out of here.”

Finally she stops her mediocre attempts and glares at Aswang.

Nothing happens for a few more minutes of waiting. Then we hear running steps from down the corridor. The two slavers with their magelights come around the corner of the corridor. One is carrying two slaves from our barrack under his arms. The other turns back and fires a spell down the corridor, hitting something.

An angry howl emerges from the darkness.

“Damn! We have to fight! We simply can't outrun the things!” The overseer calls out and drops the slaves to assist his companion. “Get them and retreat behind the bars!” he screams towards us.

What a seriously stupid command! I step forward and reach the lever just in time to hold it down while Zanders lets go of it to run down the tunnel.

“Zanders!” Manticore follows him, Aswang and Legna on her heels.

“Just great!” I wipe wetness from my forehead while they hurry to retrieve the other slaves. Two green lizard-like humanoids appear out of the darkness and attack the overseers who have nothing more than their sticks.

One of the ways out of the sewers must have opened and let the creatures in. Everything down here is in such a bad shape. It's no big surprise. I keep holding down the loose lever and am doomed to watch while events unfold.

Zanders rushes into the fight without caring for his own safety. Drawing the attention of the lizard-thing. No, the long, sharp teeth make them more like crocodiles! The monster rushes past the overseer who was fighting it and strikes at Zanders. The claws on the three fingered hand come away covered with blood, but I can't see much from my position. I have to fight the urge to let go of the lever and run. If one of those things gets on my side of the bars I am dead!

There is no way to outrun it with our chubby feet. The overseers must have known that too and chose to defend their goods instead of losing at least five slaves.

The second overseer is taken down by the other monster and falls into the water with the monster's jaws around his neck.

Finally the overseer who got ignored uses the opportunity of Zander's distraction to stab his stick deep into the creature's back . Sparks fly as the lizard is cooked from within.

Then he turns to face the monster which bit through his comrade's neck. My team reaches Zanders and the two unconscious boys to drag them away from the fight. While the remaining slaver and the monster fight each other they reach the door.

Manticore pulls Zanders onto a dry section of the sewer-bed. He has a deep wound in his chest and blood is flowing out of his mouth. It doesn't look good for him. Our regenerative powers are good, but we need mana for them. If Zanders had enough mana for that wound he would have already healed up.

Aswang lets go of the boy whom he pulled with him and tries to get to the lever, but I don't allow it. “Shut it!” he cries.

“No, if he actually wins the fight,” my eyes wander to the overseer and the monster, “he will be pissed and we will get the fallout. If the thing wins and is able to get through the gate we can't outrun it anyway.”

Aswang grits his teeth, but nods. Then he and Legna, who pulled the other boy, turn their attention to Zanders. Manticore is already trying to share her mana with him, but it doesn't seem to help.

They try all they can think of while I hold down the lever and watch. The blood is pumping out of him with each heartbeat. It is slow, ugly and agonizing to watch, but finally Zanders's heaving chest stops moving and his eyes turn empty.

The overseer is still fighting the creature, but my attention isn't on them. My third sense gives me a perfect view of their battle.

My attention is on the green mist which emerges out of Zanders and disperses slowly into the surroundings. It doesn't seem like the others take any notice of it. Am I the only one who can see it?

Finally they stop their attempts and accept that Zanders is gone. Their expressions turn grim as they watch the overseer finishing off the last creature by stabbing his stick down its maw and grilling it.

I keep my eyes focused on Zanders while the man staggers back towards us. He has scratches all over his body and seems weakened, but it is nothing life threatening. His heart is as loud as a drum to my third sense.

My comrades are still staring in anger at the overseer who stumbles towards us. The green mist around Zanders is now completely gone. Slowly I start working the lever left and right, testing its strength. If I use the little mana I have on my muscles...

“You did well in holding the bars open.” The slaver approaches and lets his eyes wander over us, grinning. “I may notify the others of your obedience in a tight situation.” He dismisses me upon seeing that my eyes aren't on him, focusing on the others, and steps over the boundary.

Snap!

The bars of the gate fall shut.

One bar impales him through his shoulder and left lung. Another scrapes off his right ear and enters his body close to the neck, exiting near his groin. His eyes widen and his mouth opens to scream. But it is hard to scream with two impaled lungs. Only an exaggerated breath comes out.

His arms come up and flail around, but even that stops quite quickly while the movement causes him to slide down the bars and to his knees. Accusing eyes focus on me before his head drops and it is done.

Aswang, Manticore and Legna slowly turn their heads to me. They watched the overseer's struggle with big, round eyes and in utter silence. Not a word came over their lips.

I raise my hand and show them the broken lever. “Rusty. It broke at an unfortunate moment.”

My attention wanders back to the slaver and I notice the green mist again. Don't they see it? “What's wrong with you?” they ask. Curious, I step closer and reach for the mist, feel it. Power seeps into me as the mist gathers into a green orb in my hand.

Soul.

Having an inspiration, or a memory, I close my hand around the orb and try to absorb it into my being. Johann couldn't do that. But Azir could. Who is Azir? Why does this knowledge keep popping into my head? I suddenly know how to capture a soul and I know the name of a person who can do that, but I don't remember about the person itself. Why is my mind that fucked up? I reach for my head and feel a stinging pain developing behind my eyes.

A hand touches my shoulder and I turn around. Legna is there, looking at me with pain in her eyes. But there is also determination. “Let's go back. It was an accident,” she says.

I smile wryly at her. “Of course it was an accident.”

.