"Oy! Wake up ye bloody bastards! Yer all get'in out here!"

A wrinkled old man cracked his whip on the ground, sending a fast chill down the captive's spines, forcing them to wake up from their deep slumber at the break of dawn.

I had already woken up, only entertaining myself with the view we passed by, fleeting and comforting as it lasted.

It seems to have taken more than two days of travel until we have reached our destination, somewhere unknown to us.

Our fates and being decided this very moment.

In that short span of time I had gotten to know the few others that were with us on the journey to the unknown.

There were seven of them, but were now reduced to five after two captives could not take the harsh conditions they were in.

We were refused food or water, punished if you were to complain.

The old man had guards on horseback, armed to keep us in line.

The carriage master threw their corpses out of the carriage, leaving them without remorse nor a proper prayer.

What transpired struck the remaining captives to not attempt to replicate their actions, seeing as it will only bring them more misfortune.

The others remaining, besides Bertrand, were young adults, two men and a woman.

Kurt was the name of the young man at the age of twenty-one. And the two were siblings, where the woman was the older of the two.

Each one had different circumstances of being here.

The lone man was a soldier in the army labeled a traitor after attempting to escape a mission that warranted the destruction and ruin of his hometown.

He turned on his platoon, resulting in him being punished severely with beatings, leaving him with an inch of his life before being handed off to a slave trader.

He was quiet, but eventually spoke softly, still having his mind and body broken after his constant beatings.

The man introduced himself as Kurt, a short, dark haired man that still possesses his constitution of being a former soldier even after his capture.

Next were the two siblings who had opened up after Kurt introduced himself.

They were captured after their town was razed as collateral damage between the two powers in the civil war of Barda.

The young man optimistically spoke first, smiling despite the various bruises on his body and face.

"I'm Marshall, here’s to hoping that we get along!"

He was the only one who was able to smile, enticing jealousy even from me, who could not manage the simplest of smiles for some reason.

"My name is Alissa, I'm Marshall's older sister."

She was a timid woman, possessing a body fitting for a young adult at her age.

Her personality was gentle and soft, like a benevolent mother that would put others before her.

They seemed well enough, unaffected outwardly, but internally broken.

We managed to exchange a few conversations before reaching our stop.

Returning to the present, the carriage master continued cracking his whip, hitting Alissa, who covered Marshall, the target of the brutish old man.

Alissa fell to the ground, and was then assisted by Marshall, who looked sincerely concerned at her sister.

"Hey, that's taking it too far!"

Kurt yelled out, attempting to come out of the carriage with a certain intention in mind for the cruel carriage master.

Bertrand exited before Kurt could do anything, staring down the old man from above as to provoke him from his actions.

The old man stuttered out of fear after being shadowed and petrified by Bertrand's intimidating gaze, forcing him to curse and threaten the rest of us.

"I've got better things to do! Now get out of my carriage! Yer all stinkin' up the thing!"

The carriage master retreated to his horse, arranging the saddle.

"Come, Heinrich. Let's go before we cause a scene."

Bertrand, still restrained with a sturdy piece of rope around his wrists, looked at me as I stood inside, watching how the entire event transpired.

My lungs were dry, and my eyes could barely see anything past this point.

Sure enough my body couldn't even manage to move a single muscle.

But, thinking about things properly, it would only cause more problems for the others even when I am at fault.

Resolving to not let that happen, I forced my body, still seething with pain around the chest, where a rib bone seemed to be fractured.

Before I could take another step out of the carriage, my leg gave out, making me fall forward.

Bertrand caught me before I could collide with the barren land, propping me up.

"T-thank you, Bertrand."

I tried to muster up my voice in order to thank him, thinking that I was fortunate enough to have someone like him with me despite having only met a few days ago.

Soon, we were approached by a fully armed guard regiment, speaking with a loud voice and a haughty attitude.

"Are these the slaves that you're selling?"

The man in the center spoke to the carriage master, who twitched after being called out to.

"Ye, that's me."

"How much do you want for them?"

"About fifty gold pieces, he he, they look well enough to work, especially that sack of meat at the back."

"How about I lock you down and turn you in to a slave? Ten gold pieces or your occupation will change ironically."

The guard clearly threatened him, forcing the man to jitter and look at him with irritation and disdain.

"Fine! Cough up the gold and just let me be, damn hustlers."

The guard looked at one of his subordinates beside him, bringing out a bag that contained contents that made a clanking sound.

The subordinate threw the bag at the carriage master.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Get out of here, you pig!"

Brandishing his spear, the carriage master ran for the back of his horse, whipping the reigns to signal the horse to run fast and immediately.

Soon we were left at their mercy.

"Follow me. Don't try anything that would upset me. I will only warn you all once."

The guards made a line that was to be followed by us five, leading us into an encampment on a barren wasteland where the sky seemed paler than usual, as if in sorrow and lament.

The area that we were ushered in to was formed to look like a town that had a facility and a plot of farmland beside it, where workers were seen tilling the land, being whipped in the process.

We were being led into a facility where the prime objective was to mine for minerals needed to create arms for war.

The makeshift town was dreary and desolate, lifeless even.

The people we passed by looked deathly and on the verge of collapsing as they towed wooden carts filled with the said ores and minerals, being yelled at the same time.

In front of me was Kurt, Marshall, and lastly Alissa, who seemed to have the strongest fortitude amongst us, only second to Bertrand's.

Weirdly enough I could feel their anxiety, the fear that they had.

It seemed to fill the air around us, creating a dreadful feeling in my gut that made me even more uncomfortable than I already am.

Needless to say that the they were all covered in dirt, scars, bruises.

Their clothing was a single piece of cloth that served as a cover for their entire body, both for the men and women in here.

Commands were being shouted loudly around us, nearly deafening and concerning.

The guard leading our group payed no mind to those who were loitering the streets, begging for water or food, kicking or ignoring them as he passed by.

More of them were stationed on platforms serving as small lookout towers that could manage and keep track of each slave's movement.

Trying to process the information from what I've seen so far, I began to think that were are being held where a town once stood, now reduced to a dark ruin of ashes and cinder, replaced to become a slave camp.

The guard turned around after reaching a wide area where countless sizable looking tents could be seen.

"This is where you'll all be living. Not doing any work or being less efficient will earn you a spot in the prisons below."

He pointed to a tent that when inspected, was empty.

Before living, he issued orders that could be considered cruel or simply difficult for any one person.

"You'll all be starting today. No breaks, and each one of you will have a quota. Not reaching it will mean that you won't get anything to eat."

And with that, he left us all alone.

We settled down for a bit, catching our breaths after the grueling travel we experienced on a carriage with a disdainful carriage master.

The inside of the tent contained blankets organized on the ground for four people when there are five of us.

There was nothing else inside, nothing to keep us warm when night comes.

"It doesn't seem that bad. We'll just have to work hard for our hard earnings, right?"

Marshall optimistically said.

"It's not gonna be that as easy as you think, kid. They'll work you to the bone before you could eat. Best not overwork yourself with the optimism."

Kurt replied, closing his eyes as he laid down on a blanket.

"Hey. They said we'll be starting today. You can't rest yet. You won't get anything to eat if you do."

Marshall relented, irritating Kurt to an extent as he responds with an irritated voice.

"It doesn't matter! We're slaves! There's no reason for us to follow them and what they tell us. We'll just end up dead sometime in the future, and there's no knowing when we'll go!"

The former soldier sprang from where he laid, yelling at the young man who then cowered in fear from what he had heard.

"There's no need for us to be divided. It's already bad enough that we were sold as slaves. It'll only get worse quickly if we make enemies of ourselves. The best thing we could do is look out for each other."

Bertrand interceded, cutting off the intensity coming from the two as they both became silent, looking at Bertrand as if they were being scolded by their fathers.

"Bertrand is correct. We will do better if we look out for each other. The world can be cruel, so there's no telling what might happen to each of us."

Alissa took a step forward as she reinforced Bertrand's ideals.

At that instant, Kurt looked at me with the most curious and rebellious looking eyes.

"So, how about you? What do you think? You've been silent the entire time. What do you have to say about this?"

I found myself the center of attention as each one of them directed their sights at me, waiting for a reply, that could either sever us, or bind us together.

Gulping in saliva, my throat still felt as dry as it could be, preventing me from using much of my voice, but only to an extent.

"I agree with Bertrand and Alissa. I don't like the idea of staying here forever. So for now, let's try and help each other out."

"Tch, fine. Just do what you want."

With that, things looked settled, and our lives began as slaves.

After having spent three days as slaves, we haven't quite adjusted to the lifestyle it entails.

Rather, it was for the best that we didn't become accustomed to being slaves.

Kurt's assumptions were mostly correct.

The guards abused us as much as they could, killing and throwing out those they deemed weak and putting the remaining ones back to work.

It was back breaking labor for some, where they were put to work in the mines, carrying heavy loads of ores and stone using pickaxes.

A safe haven for work would be farming, producing crops that will go to the people who need it, and not to us.

The meals that they served were small portions, not enough to fill anyone even by a longshot.

They only gave you one serving, and that was for the entire day.

No matter how hard you work for another serving, they won't spare you, and you will simply receive a beating for being uncontent.

The living conditions within the tents were miserable, but we had to make do with what we had.

Bertrand and I made an agreement to let someone sleep, and have the other take guard since there were only four blankets.

Kurt argued that he didn't want to have anything to do with it, and Marshall volunteered instead.

But, Alissa pleaded to not let her brother do such a thing, so we compromised within the two of us, receiving three hours of sleep each day before going back to work at the first break of dawn.

In the first three days, my body was made to adjust to the labor, not being spared of rest, which was seen as a luxury.

I noticed that I've grown rather dull in those few days, clearly separating me from my usual demeanor.

I've experienced being whipped, and being at least tough enough to endure, then return to working, otherwise you'll receive more than you previously had.

The death toll or the camp was large in the first few days, numbering up to at least fifty in just three days.

Those I had been briefly acquainted with had either passed away, or is unable to work and is being punished for it.

There was no mercy to those who gave up, or to those that slacked off.

"Are you alright?"

Bertrand came up to me after I had just received a series of relentless beatings from a soldier.

My legs gave up on me as drowsiness gripped my physique, making me lose balance, and ultimately ended up with me dropping what I had been carrying.

"I'm still alive. I guess I'd consider myself alright for the time being."

"There's just no time to rest, is there?"

"I consider even an hour of sleep as enough. Thank you, Bertrand. You seem to be getting by well."

"Ha, it's thanks to my body. If I were any smaller, I would've probably been gone the first two days in."

Bertrand laughed, serving as a way to wake himself up as he also looked drowsy, seeing as we were in the same state due to the same predicaments.

His large body enabled him to carry heavy objects and have a great amount of stamina along with it, establishing him as a capable man whom got most of the back-breaking manual labor.

It was the middle of the day, and the clouds overhead were dull and pale as when we first came here.

The land was still barren, and there were no signs of any rain coming.

If that were the case, it'd serve as both a miracle and a troublesome thing.

Seeing as didn't have much to boast about my physical aptitude, I was near worthless, being the one who absorbed the prejudice that the guards had to offer from time to time.

At the end of the day, I'd collapse on my bed, unable to move even a muscle.

Sometimes I wouldn't even bother eating at all, giving it to either Bertrand, Kurt, Marshall or Alissa.

They'd force me to eat, saying that I wouldn't last long if I gave up that early.

That night, Bertrand learned that we were still in Barda, but a different part where the war was closely focused.

This was not the only slave camp in the area, and that there were at least two to three more being governed by a different lords serving under one named, Lothbrig.

"Hey, have you heard about how the capital of Ciel was attacked recently?"

Bertrand caught my attention almost instantly as we rested inside our tents, unable to sleep due to insomnia.

"Ciel as in the capital of Barda?"

"Yes. It's been attacked by Mardun I hear. If that man comes to power, then we'll all be slaves soon. I hear he's ruthless."

"How did you learn about all this, Bertrand?"

"You could say I've built a pretty good connection with people in the other slave camps. They're pretty reliable when it comes to stuff like this."

That train of thought got me thinking.

How was she doing? Where is she now? Is she safe?

I still remember what he looked like, how she left me and went her own way to...Ciel.

"Bertrand. Could you ask them for information about where the Zalphion of Barda is?"

Bewildered, Bertrand focused his eyes on me.

"This is the first I've seen you a bit livelier than usual. Sure I'll do it for you. Not often do I get any requests from you after all."

He stood up, stretching his body.

"Why don't you sleep first. I'll keep guard tonight. Try not to get beat up as much. It's killing you. You won't last long at this rate. Bear with it, but try to improve yourself a bit."

I agreed without hesitation, seeing as I began to yawn uncontrollably after a day of working nonstop, keeping what Bertrand said in mind.

(I want to see her again. Why? I don't know... I just want to. I keep remembering that distant face of hers at times when I think or sleep)

As I fell on the ground, supported by a blanket, my body felt like it was going to give out at any minute or second.

The pain I received prior to coming here had been returned tenfold, and much more was being added to it.

"I need to... No, I want to get stronger. If this is what every war-torn country was experiencing, then I don't want anyone to ever live like this."

I mumbled my ambitions, making sure to remember it before my mind would dissolve into nothing and forget it, becoming a blank slate by tomorrow.