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The Lost Crest
Chapter 4: Divide

Chapter 4: Divide

The sounds of snaps and shouting stir my sleep waking me up, the skorpioner shouting in their strange language as they forced us through the cells towards the main room. Glancing at Leo he had a fearful look on his face, which wasn't unusual for him now that we were slaves. Following the crowd through the gates whispers catch my ear, "What's going on?" Followed by "I hear they found one of the skorpioners dead." It was chaotic, looking around I couldn't find any of the others and wondered if they were already outside the cell.  

Exiting the gates into the large room we are met by dozens of skorpioner all wielding the familiar whips, they formed a wall around the exits and surrounded us, their faces remaining hidden under the dark hoods. Looking towards the center the familiar man stood, a dagger on his hip and a whip clutched tightly in hand. He was known throughout the mines as Wickum Leader of the mines. Also, the one who had tortured the majority of the slaves me included.  

A deep frown covered his faces, unusual compared to the sadistic smile he wore when watching the slaves. At the silence of the room, he shouts his voice being carried through the tunnels, "Why is it that I'm woken up to the death of a skorpioner? Found in the mines with a pickaxe lodged through his throat." Trailing his eyes among the crowd he swore furiously tapping his foot in impatience. The surrounding slaves were restless, yet silent for fear of being singled out and beaten for the crime committed against his men.  

"Upon investigation, it was discovered that a SLAVE, a filthy fucking slave killed him, now I'm only going to ask this once. Which one of you was it?" Glancing around the slaves didn't say a word, possibly looking for the culprit yet no one said anything, it would mean your own demise. "No one's going to come forward?" He says while pacing around the circle looking each slave he passes in the eye. "I thought so, you may be slaves but you're not stupid..." Speaking to the skorpioner he leaves the room his footstep echoing through the tunnels before disappearing into the darkness.  

Silence ensued the room the guards murmuring to each other before they started separating us into small groups of 10, by the time they were done 17 groups sat in the room all accompanied by 2 guards. With my luck I got Baltor in my group, likewise, he didn't appear to be happy about being placed in the same group as me. Sneering at the sight of us chained together. The other 8 in our group were all unresponsive staring at the ground not making eye contact with anyone, they reminded me of Leo.  

Linked together they ushered us into the mining area, although they didn’t give us pickaxes. Glancing at Baltor his face was stone, unreadable and I immediately gave up on the thought of asking if he knew anything about the murder. I don't think he would have told me if he did especially if it had anything to do with Celeste. One by one the guards unlocked the chains sending a slave towards the torturing chamber. Coming back minutes later barely being able to walk and covered with blood. The soft whimpers sent chills down my spine causing me to shiver slightly at the sight. Baltor simply scoffed at the sight as the guards began to unlatch his restraints.  

Even with his brutish attitude, I could see the fear in his eyes as he strutted through the darkness of the tunnel. Returning moments later being dragged by 3 guards he lay unconscious and soaked in blood, only fortifying my fear of being next. Unlatching the buckles, I wandered through the darkness to the familiar room. The memories of my first torture session flashing through my mind, making my body stiff, walking into the room Wickum stood leaning on the table. Wiping the blood from his many knives, the room felt damp the silence slowly suffocating me. I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my chest as he turned around.  

"What do you know about my skorpioner being dead?" He said looking at me with an expressionless face. My body was riddled with sweat as I spoke, "I don't know what happened to your pet." Pushing off the table he glided towards me a knife in hand placing it at my throat with quick precision, his eyes were piercing as if baiting me to try to resist. I had learned my lesson the first time and wasn't going to be tempted again. "You see, what I don't get is how did a slave get out of the cell, unseen by anyone and unheard by anyone." He murmurs, the blade digging deeper into my throat. "No slave has had the balls to go against us not one until you got here."  

"Like I said before I don’t know what happened to him." Staring at him unwavering, his eyes didn’t blink as he watched me. Releasing the blade, he walks away, his cloak gliding through the air as he strides away. "Go back to the mines, I'm done with you." With no pause I scurry out of the room, the guards escorted me back through the dark tunnels to my group. Why hadn't he beaten me? The question probed at my mind, he had relished in the pain of others, he didn't seem like the type to mourn a lost beast-man. 

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The two guards whispered to each other before halting abruptly, I glanced in a confused manner before feeling a bone shattering strike in the pit of my stomach causing me to reel forward gasping for air. I didn't have time to think or resist as blow after blow continued to rain down on me, compared to Wickum it wasn't nearly as brutal or bloody. Still being caught off guard left me clutching my stomach. Finishing their assault, the two skorpioner let out ear shattering shrieks which I assumed to be laughter as they began dragging me back to the group.  

I was just as confused as them, killing a skorpioner wasn't part of the plan. If a slave had found a way to escape from the cells maybe there were more than one? Or Celeste had done something the rest of us weren't aware of. The division of the slaves would make communication difficult slowing down our plan for escape, honestly, the beast-men's death couldn't have happened at a worse time. 

Arriving at the cells I was greeted by the grunts of Baltor and the scared eyes of the rest of our group. Locking the cell bars, the two guards walk away, I listened for the echo of their footsteps to fade before whispering in a low tone, 

"Have you heard anything from Celeste or the others? What about the plan?" Crouched on the floor he glared at me, even in his injured state he was an intimidating figure. "Now isn't the time for that, let's just hope no one cracks and spills our plan." His voice was weary, and I suspected he thought me or Leo would betray them. With that he faced the wall and went to sleep, the other slaves simply whimpered to themselves silently. 

Huddling in a dark corner I roll into a tight ball before the pulses of pain whisk me to sleep, only a few more days and we could be free.

*******

The boy had been interesting she hadn't seen eyes like his for a long time, a very long time. Pacing around her desolate den she continued to stir the cauldron adding the ancient ingredients to the bubbling blue soup. It was a tantalizing sight but couldn't help looking back over at the blood-soaked dagger. It had centuries since such an opportunity presented itself, and having finally found what she was looking for she giggled in glee while licking my dry lips.  

Knowing more about the boy than he knew about himself was entertaining to her. Remembering the fierce spirit that burned in his eyes brought back memories of a similar man, who she both feared and admired, although he has long since passed. His disappearance leading to the absence of magic, causing him to be known throughout all of Kies as, The Dark King. It left many lands ruined, some speculate it's the reason nothing ever grows in Layfront, leaving a vast sandy hell that hasn't seen the dark sky or the godly stars in over 50 years.  

Interrupting her thoughts, the familiar skorpioner appeared at the entrance of her cave, he was skittish and often watched her in curiosity as she performed what they called miracles. "What brings you to my den Peewee?  

"I don't mean to interrupt your meal witch but I bring bad news, the Liberators have killed all the beast-men in Alhmar village destroying the mines and freeing all of the captured slaves, we've lost control."   

Pausing, she spared a glance at the incompetent beast-men, causing him to flinch before entering the cave. "What do you expect me to do about it boy? That is no matter of mine, as long the camp at Row's Peak is intact I will not interfere." She muttered looking back into my pot, it looked nearly ready.  

"The king's shipment was to be sent days ago! He won't wait idly by if we don't deliver the slaves if this keeps up he'll also stop providing us with supplies and your precious ingredients, his army may even come to the deserts just to purge us from existence. " His tone slowly rose, she could sense his anger and urgency, but didn't fear him or man. He was after all just a beast-man.  

"I no longer require the supplies of the king, I've found what I need. If you wish to stay in my good graces I suggest you correct your tone before you lose your tongue." Her voice fell over the room in a chill. Peewee's eyes instantly falling to the floor in submission as he apologized for his rudeness.  

"What exactly is it you were looking for? Is it the foreign slave we found days ago? What's so special about him?" He pipped in curiously wandering over looking down into the pot. The strange blue liquid resonated a bright blue, a was a beautiful sight.  

"Foreign yes, but he is no slave." Gripping the dagger, she plunges it into the pot the mystical blue morphing into purple."   

"How is it you are capable of using magic when it's disappeared for centuries now?" Peewee muttered staring down into the pot.  

Grasping her mug, the witch spared him a glance an amused look plastered on her ancient face. "Foolish beast confusing witchcraft and magic, it has been around much longer and carries far more restriction, but when done right. "Dipping the mug in the purple goo she begins gulping down the purple liquid, gasping in relief with the empty mug. "It can be much more powerful."  

I see," He muttered in a low tone before looking at the witch with a confused look. "If you're not going to be helping us with the eradication of the Liberators then I'm leaving" Turning heel Peewee rushed out into the sun, not sparing a single look back at the witch.  

She didn't care for the thoughts or actions of the beast because now she was a step closer. Now he was her's and he could never escape the fate she had formed between the two of them. For now, she possessed the very soul of his being. An ancient soul, and hopefully powerful enough for what she planned to do.