Rise of Yahunyens: Origin

Episode 2: No One

As night draped its heavy veil over the slave quarters, Yesdar lay awake, his young mind wrestling with the weight of Griswa's revelations. How could someone his age be capable of such unimaginable deeds? The notion of seventy billion lives extinguished at the hands of a mere child sent shivers down Yesdar's spine. And the talk of Griswa being from another world? It sounded like something out of the strange tales whispered among the slaves.

In the dim light, Yesdar clung to his thin blanket, feeling the chill of uncertainty creep into his bones. He had always been a slave, his world confined to the harsh reality of the labor camp. The idea of anything beyond its boundaries seemed like a distant dream. Yet, Griswa's presence loomed large, casting a shadow of doubt over Yesdar's once-simple existence. What if Griswa's otherworldly origins spelled danger for him? What if he was next in line for Griswa's mysterious wrath?

With these troubling thoughts swirling in his mind, Yesdar stared into the darkness, longing for the comfort of sleep to whisk him away from his fears. But as the night dragged on, sleep remained elusive, leaving Yesdar to grapple with the unsettling truths that had been laid bare before him.

Yesdar's thoughts spiraled into a vortex of uncertainty. Would Griswa turn on him next, unleashing the same terror he had wrought upon countless others? After all, what could a mere 9 year old imagine? The increasing fear munched at his insides, twisting like a dagger in his gut. With each passing moment, the walls of the prison seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with their oppressive weight.

As dawn painted the sky in hues of amber and gold, Yesdar emerged from his fitful slumber, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. The clank of armored Yahunyen soldiers echoed through the compound, their presence a grim reminder of the captivity that bound them all.

This morning, Yesdar kept his distance from Griswa, a silent barrier erected between them by the chasm of uncertainty that now divided them. Though Griswa seemed unaffected by Yesdar's apprehension, a subtle tension hung in the air between them, palpable yet unspoken.

Yesdar trudged out into the harsh light of day, his limbs heavy with fatigue. The relentless sun beat down upon him with unrelenting fury, sapping what little strength remained within him because of his sleepless night in thoughts about Griswa. As he toiled away under the watchful gaze of the Yahunyen guards, his hands gripped the crude tools of his trade with dwindling resolve.

But fatigue was a luxury afforded only to the fortunate few in the merciless world of The Yahunyen Empire. With each sluggish movement of his hands, Yesdar risked the wrath of his captors, their cruel retribution swift and merciless.

And so it was that when Yesdar's weary limbs faltered under the weight of exhaustion, the Yahunyen soldier seized upon the opportunity with savage glee. With a brutal blow to the head, he sent Yesdar crashing to the ground, a cry of pain tearing from his lips.

Yesdar lay sprawled upon the unforgiving earth, the Yahunyen soldier pressed the sharp end of his spear against Yesdar's tender right toe, eliciting a tortured scream from the young boy.

As Griswa witnessed the brutal treatment inflicted upon Yesdar by the Yahunyen soldier, a torrent of memories flooded his mind, dragging him back to a time long past. He remembered with painful clarity the horrors he had witnessed as a child, the atrocities he had been forced to commit at the behest of his captors. Scenes of violence and suffering played out before his eyes, each one a menacing reminder of the darkness that lurked within him.

Griswa's own hands felt heavy with guilt as he recalled the countless lives he had extinguished, the screams of the innocent echoing in his ears like a haunting melody. And yet, even in the depths of his despair, there was a flicker of defiance, a spark of righteous anger that burned bright within him.