8 Years ago.
Aero laid down on the ground, his mind in a fog.
Where was he again? He tried to piece together his thoughts, but couldn’t quite figure out what had happened. He must have hit his head again.
Something hard hit his back, slicing pain ripped through body. His back felt wet, and in the cool air of the mines it made him terribly cold. He frowned, realizing that his face was in the dirt. This seemed to be happening far too often now.
His back was hit again, sending another wave of excruciating pain. Aero gritted his teeth. What was doing that? It was terribly annoying, not to mention he couldn’t afford to be hurt right now. If he started falling behind then he’d be taken in for another lashing.
Oh. That’s what was happening. As if he had finally woken up, Aero remembered what had happened right before the guard had smashed his head into the wall.
Another lash of the cold whip bit into his skin. How many was that? Four? Five? He should have been keeping count, he realized with a sigh.
He looked around at the small alcove in which he lay, the grey, bleak, and unforgiving stone in which he had grown accustomed to greeted his gaze once more. The cold pebbles dug into his arms and chest, cutting his skin and irritating his previous wounds. The guard behind him whipped him once more. Rippling pain radiated from his back, but Aero could manage. He was confident that had been the last one
From the blood on the ground around him, he wasn’t sure if he could take anymore regardless.
The guard hung his whip on a hook beside him, and picked up the torch that blazed adjacent to it. Leaning down the man grabbed Aero by the chains on his wrists and hauled him to his feet. Only when he stood did he truly feel the overwhelming exhaustion that he’d been putting off. His shackled feet almost stumbled, nearly sending him tumbling back into the dirt and stone.
“Watch it brat” The guard spat, holding him more tightly.
“Sorry about that, I got two left feet,” Aero said with a small grin, resisting the urge to give a small wink at the same time.
Unsurprisingly, the guard didn’t find his joke funny, and promptly punched him across the face. Aero gave a small grunt, and spat out the blood from his mouth.
He sighed again. They never appreciated his jokes. Of course, not that it mattered. He didn’t care if they laughed, punched, kicked or whipped him. After all, the only thing that mattered was that he was going to kill them one day. With that thought swimming in his head, Aero smiled a little.
He wondered when that day would be. Aero, like many other children, had been brought to Kaisel Mines at the ripe old age of 10. Since that day, he had spent a total of 5 years in this accursed place. Every day, laboring away. Never knowing which would be his last. He had seen kids both younger and older, stronger and smarter, all die in horrible twisted ways. Soon enough it would be him, he reasoned. Most kids never even made it to 15, so he should have felt accomplished in some regards.
After all, the Kaisel Mines were akin to a graveyard.
It had started 7 years ago, when a group of bandits had first discovered the gold. Establishing a small mine into the caverns in which they started to dig. Realising they were only scratching the surface of the wealth they could attain, they started to get greedy. Sooner than later, their avarice consumed them.
They began to steal children away from their families, killing the parents if necessary and anyone else who stood in their way. Once the gold started pouring out of the mine, that ragtag group of bandits had become a much larger company. Enough to begin raiding entire villages.
Aero still remembered the flames that destroyed his home. The blood that leaked from his fathers stomach. The face of the man who killed him.
After all this time he hadn’t forgotten that man's face. It was kind of hard to forget when he saw him every day anyways. Aero sniffled, thinking back on his years.
‘Great times, really. I wonder if it would bother me a little more if I was any less insane.’ He thought, only coming up with a shrug. ‘Probably.’
The guard led him through the catacombs that he called home. Cells lined the walls in every direction, after all why build a cage when you can just dig out a cell. He had to hand it to the people running this place, they sure knew how to run a successful business. Guards patrolled throughout the tunnels, each armed and in a foul mood. Maybe they were just bad people, but Aero long ago decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. He was starting to reconsider after being tortured so much though.
The tunnel of cells suddenly broke into a larger cavernous room. It was circular in shape and about 15 metres across in either direction. Each cell cut from the grey stone as if carved from the rock itself. Iron bars acting as a door for each of them. Between those bars he could make out the huddles of children within each of the makeshift cells. Some met his eyes, while others couldn’t muster the courage to even look outside the bars.
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Looking at the kids that wouldn’t even look in his direction, too afraid to incur the wrath of one of the guards, Aero felt his anger boiling.
‘Filthy cowards.’
In the very centre of the room lay the remains of what had been a large bonfire. Its dying coals the only source of light in the dark place he called home. Once the guard left with his torch, the shadows would once again claim what was left behind.
Nearing the far edge of the room, the guard pulled out an old rusty key and slid it into the lock of one of the cell doors. The kids inside all backed away from the door to give the guard his space, knowing very well what would happen if they lingered too close. The door swung open with a large creak, and the guard shoved him inside without a word. Stumbling in, Aero tripped on the chains that held his feet and went crashing to the ground, the cold rocks embracing him like an old friend.
He heard the door shut behind him, and the faint jingle of the key locking it back into place. As soon as he heard the guard turn and step away, the kids in front of him rushed forwards with concern on their faces.
“Aero! Are you okay? What did they do to you?”
“Did they lash you again?”
“How did you not get thrown in the Chasm?”
The assault of questions somehow felt soothing. The only place in these mines that gave him even the tiniest semblance of a home, was right here in this cell. With his friends. No, they were his family.
He tried to make out their faces in the dark, but the guard's torchlight was fading quickly, and the remains of the bonfire was no help at all. Aero sighed and gave them all a grin, hoping that they could even recognize it in the dark.
“I’m okay guys don’t worry, nothing that wasn’t new.” He frowned afterwards, another thought poking into his mind. “They really do lack creativity though, it’s not even exciting to get dragged away anymore.”
He found Skia’s face in the dark, her blue eyes still shining without the light. Her hand promptly slapped him across the face.
“You stupid idiot! What were you thinking! That’s the third time you’ve tried escaping this month, next time they’re just going to kill you,” she scolded. Even with the harsh words, Aero could hear the concern in them.
Skia hesitated for a moment. “We thought… we thought they threw you into the Chasm.”
Ah. The dreaded Chasm. The massive abyss that creeped alongside the Kaisel Mines. It wasn’t rare for the guards to take a slave that couldn’t keep up the work anymore, and throw into the darkness below. Neither was it rare to see someone jump in themselves, one they couldn’t take it anymore.
Worst of all, it was the source of the damn wind that made him shiver every night.
Aero scoffed, “please, the guards love me here. If they threw me into the Chasm they’d lose their best source of entertainment.”
The others in the cell, gathering themselves from the initial shock of him returning alive, finally rushed in to hug him. There were six of them that called this cell home. The people who made every gruesome day worth surviving.
Misha embraced him first, wrapping her small arms around him in a tight hug. Despite her size, the days in the mines gave her muscles that made every muscle on his body complain from her crushing grasp. Aero winced from the pain, but kept silent, not wanting to damper the mood. Pollock simply tousled his hair and gave him a grin, which he returned in earnest.
Skia still stood where she had first slapped him. Her face was a mask of emotions, as if unsure what to say to him. He would talk with her later, she deserved that much at least.
Aero glanced further into the cage to the other two occupants. Grunk was sitting on the makeshift cot of stone, looking in his direction. He gave a little salute before casting his eyes downwards again. Calling Grunk a part of his family was definitely a stretch. The fool had only been living with them for two months and brought heaps of trouble with him. If only Jakken was still here, the cell might have felt a little bit less empty.
Misha finally let go of him and stepped away exhausted, she then threw herself carelessly onto her bed and gave a large sigh. Stepping away from the other two, he looked around for the last member of their ragtag family. Unable to find him sitting in plain sight. Walking towards the end of his cell, he finally found the little bastard leaning on the bed, sitting with his back facing towards the cell's entrance. His red hair was especially messy this particular day.
Fathom didn’t even bother looking up at him, but Aero didn’t mind. The kid was barely 11, and short for his age too, but the resolve within him was something that most kids couldn’t dream of having. Even among the resolute girls and boys that lived in this filthy place, he stood apart from them. At least, that was the impression Aero got him.
He mostly kept to himself after all, only spoke when needed, and only interacted with those he considered his friends. Yet, despite all the praise that Aero would love to give him, it all paled in comparison to what was truly special about him.
Aero sat down on the cot above him and leaned his head against the wall. He was careful to not let the fresh cuts on his open back touch the cold stone, wanting to avoid any added torment. Turning his head, he watched as the distant light of the guards torch wither out as he eventually turned a corner.
It was time.
Wordlessly, he gave Fathom a slight nudge to the back of his head with his elbow. Almost too hard with all his contained excitement. Ever since Fathom had discovered what he was capable of, Aero couldn’t stop thinking of a future ahead of them. For the past month he had been pushing the boundaries of how far he could escape before being caught, careful not to push his luck too far with the guards as well.
Not that he was crazy enough to assume he could actually escape, he was definitely some sort of crazy, but not insane. At least not yet. Instead, he had been trying to memorize the paths and get a layout of what lay beyond the quarry in which they worked. Hoping to find some sort of exit that might have been within reach. He hadn’t found one yet, but he hadn’t given up.
Because when the soft light of a crimson flame began dancing in Fathom’s upturned palm, he couldn’t help but let its beautiful form burn into the deepest part of his mind.
Within the flame, Aero saw hope.