Englecon Mine, Desmond, 10416 P.C.

The Overseer came for Matthew the next morning. Unlocking Matthew's chains, he unwound the cloths from Matthew's fists and ordered Matthew to follow him. Matthew didn't like how this was looking — perhaps now he'd feel the consequences of his murder.

Instead of going with the other slaves down into the mining tunnels, the Overseer led him up a different tunnel. This one wound around and around, higher, away from the others, opening into a large room. The roof was at least twenty feet above their heads, and although it wasn't very wide, it was long. Matthew immediately noted the whipping posts set up, the way the floor sloped toward several pits dug into the earth. The floor was stained dark. Matthew's heart stuttered. This was Englecon Mine's punishing room.

"I thought I should introduce it to you," the Overseer said, breaking the silence that had stretched between them. "You visited the last one so often, you might as well get acquainted with this one right away."

Matthew's mouth was so dry he couldn't respond — what was there to say, anyway? The man wasn't wrong. Against his better judgment, Matthew inched to the edge of one of the pits and looked into it. To his relief, it was empty. No mutilated bodies, no bones. He could see, though, how bloodstains crept down the sides of the walls from those whipped at the posts. It was a dark, horrific image in his mind. He was glad he hadn't been given any breakfast or it might have betrayed him.

"What do you want from me?" He wasn't sure why he said it. He wasn't even sure if it was the right question to be asking this psychotic man.

"I knew you'd see why I brought you here." The Overseer joined him at the edge of the pit. "What do I want from you? Compliance. Give up the bravado. You're no saviour, boy. Stop fighting me and give me what I want."

He wanted to use and manipulate whatever power Matthew had inside of him while satisfying his own sick desires. It was plainly in front of Matthew like a sign on fire. "And what do I get out of this?"

"Life," the Overseer replied simply. "Not just yours, though. Kolbin was right, I'll admit, there's only one way to deal with your kind." The man turned, and Matthew did as well, his heart stuttering again when one of the slave masters led Abby into the room. Her wrists were chained in front of her, terror in her expression. He stared, his heart dropping.

A power play. "I don't understand." Why was the Overseer pulling a power play on Matthew? Matthew was only a slave.

"I want your complete compliance. No arguing, no fighting back, just complete obedience. If you step out of line, I will punish her in your place. The threat of punishment on you is useless, I now see. But tell me, can you heal the girl as you heal yourself?"

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Matthew had never attempted his healing abilities on anyone else, but now was not the time for experiments. "No," he replied quietly, holding Abby's gaze. She was scared. He was sorry he had ever let her come close to him. He tried telling her with his eyes.

The Overseer hummed. "So, what is your decision?"

Matthew chose his words carefully. "I don't understand why we are having this discussion. You already have control." He hated the taste of the words, the truth of them. It was achingly true: the Overseer could beat Abby here and now and Matthew wouldn't be able to stop him. That very thought burned him.

"Do I?" The Overseer was looking down, and Matthew followed his gaze to his own hands. They were curled into fists.

And faintly glowing golden.

Startled, Matthew relaxed his hands, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and blinking away the burn in his eyes. The Warmth returned to his chest — he hadn't even realized it had moved into his hands. He hadn't known it could glow like that, either.

"As you see, Matthew, we have an issue." The way the man said Matthew's name was grating. "Normally, you are what is called an Oddity. A special case. In normal procedure, I would have contacted Motch himself about you and your, shall we say, special abilities? Can you give me a guess as to what he would do with you?"

Matthew could guess alright. Motch didn't like anyone who could possibly dethrone him, and the Veiled Lady... he had heard stories about her. About how the symbol burned on his collarbone was hers and that she sought out and killed those who bore it. There was also the fact that Athrii belonged to her, and if Abby was correct in suggesting that he could shut it down... "He'd kill me."

"Without a doubt. You see, Matthew, I can give you life. I can give your friend here life as well. All I am asking of you is your complete compliance."

"In anything," Matthew said, a statement he knew the answer to.

"In everything. You do as I tell you to, you don't do what I tell you not to do. What say you?"

Matthew's gaze shifted to Abby once more. She was silent, looking at the floor. She had no answer for him. Not a nod. Not a shake of her head. The answer was his alone — the consequences were not.

Correction: the consequences were his if he agreed. Abby would be left alone.

"Alright," he answered, the word echoing in the punishing room, cracking the silence like a brick on glass. It felt just as heavy. "I accept."

The Overseer smiled, showing yellowed, jagged teeth. The sight sent a jolt through Matthew, sent him stepping back in surprise. No one ever smiled. Not the slaves, not the guards, not the Overseer. Matthew stared at the man's wicked grin, suddenly wondering if death would have been the wiser option.

"Take the girl back to the mine," the Overseer ordered the guard. "The boy and I have work to do."