Time Lapse

Chapter 21 ~ Flicker of Emotion ~

It's been a few days since Carnia attracted the attention of Ulid, making him the attraction of the greedy mine owner. Bafkin began joining Carnia for meals, discussing their escape plans and freeing the miners. The wall they currently faced was whether the miners would bother to escape once the chance was given. Certainly, a few would, but not most, which led to the discussion of how to fuel the slaves' desires. Moving men wasn't something easy, and neither would be their escape. Changing the hearts of those who walked their lives on a tightrope ended in one of two ways.

"What happens if all the miners freeze up when the iron strikes?" Bafkin held the fork of lard near his mouth, unfazed at the snail's gelatin fat dangling as if it were something delectable.

"If they do, then we've done all we can. But for now, we've got to give them reasons to leave-at least for letting them die elsewhere than this stuffy tomb." Carnia scoffed, speaking at their lunch table as if the rest of the group weren't there. Leaning forward, taking Bafkin's plate away for his utmost concentration, he said, "You can talk to them, Bafkin. When did you all plan the aether poisoning?"

"They won't talk now that they know Molani blood sleeps next to them," taking the plate back like an angry infant. Baldness suited him. He stared at the miners' hardly eating, "Seems they won't eat either." Their plates were practically full. But could you blame them when their lunch consisted of slime fat and molded bread? Dirty water that most likely had various parasites and whatnots.

"I think we should readjust our sight," Carnia stared at another squad's table. None of them talked like the rest of the cafeteria. Carnia and Bafkin's conversation was heard among all the nearby tables, each group catching wind.

"Let's finish eating first-"

"I can't wait!" Carnia finally snapped. Not angrily at Bafkin, but at the mental state he found himself. The weight of promising to save everyone. It was something bigger than he could imagine, and the faces of the miners overlapped with the sailors he once knew. "The longer we wait, the closer we get to failing them. It's been a week, and you're the only person willing to help." Carnia stood, feeling sick to his stomach. Regret and duty mixed. Not to disappoint his father, mother, and the miners. Maybe it could bring peace to the sailors' faces he imagined almost nightly. None of Cetus's slaughter was on anyone's shoulders, yet Carnia took his revenge seriously. Guilt took over, leading Carnia's next plan.

"Bafkin, I need you to create a distraction with the cafeteria crew. I'm going to tamper with tonight's dinner."

"Why do that? How am I not sure ya won't get us in trouble?"

"Because what choice do you have? Look at ourselves! Everyone around us eats slop daily and nightly, is sick, and becomes bloated while our lungs slowly collapse from the aether. Is that how you truly want to die? To become another tool for these sick people?"

"None at all." Bafkin paused, shaken by Carnia's rant. Some of the miners stared at Carnia, their minds racing.

"But I fear what happens more than death if they catch us."

It was a rightful fear. Carnia had only heard tales, but punishment broke the slaves. They were thrown into the most bottomless chasms of the mines, their heads buried deep into the aether. Slowly, hallucinations tore away their mind while the extreme aether withered away the body into a husk. For some odd reason, the aether pool first ate away the skin and veins. Slowly cleaning the victim one layer at a time, picking its favorite body parts. Meanwhile, the head was preserved to remain in the realm of nightmares.

"Bafkin, I promise you there's only so many chances we get at this. If we falter now, my promise meant nothing."

"Maybe I can try something. But does my fear make me unworthy in the All-Mother's eyes?"