World Eater

Prison II

Valentine stood in a large assembly room, crudely cut out of stone. Torches mounted on sconces illuminated the room. Earlier, right after the branding, the prisoners were led to a storage room filled with dirty rags. The guards had them take the rags and wear them so they don't freeze at night. Each prisoner took some rags and tied them, turning them into makeshift clothes. Afterwards, the guards herded the prisoners into the large room in which they now stood. An armoured man, wearing a dark blue cape, stepped onto a natural podium at one end of the room.

"I'm sure you all have questions you want answered," the armoured man announced. His armour was brighter and more ornately designed than that of the other guards. "This place is the Ordunac Mines. I am the Captain. This is where you will live. This is where you will eat. And this is where you will die. You are now slaves. You will spend the rest of your lives working in here. These 'tearstones' are what you will be mining," he said and held up a cyan, glowing crystal.

"What? I don't want to be a slave! You can't do this!" one man protested.

"Yeah! This isn't fair! We have rights!" another man agreed. Others in the rabble also shouted their complaints.

"Silence!" The Captain held out his other hand, and a blue flame consumed several protestors. They didn't even have time to scream, and the other prisoners were too shocked to make a sound. "Disobedience will be punished. You will be provided meals three times a day. Finally, there are monsters in these mines. Try not to become their food." The Captain turned around and left, his personal guards leaving with him.

The assembly of slaves whispered and murmured amongst themselves once they were certain the Captain was gone. Left and right, Valentine heard nothing but "what does he mean, slaves," "where are we," and "monsters...?"

"This way, prisoners," another guard commanded. The guards ushered the prisoners through the tunnels, prodding those that fell behind with metal rods.

Valentine, like the others, went along without complaint. He knew the position he was in. But what was that blue fire? That... seemed like magic... Could this place be...? he stopped himself there. The very idea seemed ludicrous. But what other option was there? He looked at the brand on his chest. The skin around it seemed inflamed, the branded flesh itself a dark crimson, almost like charcoal. I'm surprised it doesn't hurt too much, he thought. The nerves were probably destroyed.

They passed down many corridors, going deeper into the labyrinth-mine. The deeper and lower they went, the colder it became and the less torches there were to illuminate the halls. Several minutes passed until they reached the lowest depths. The guards brought them to a room and gave them pickaxes.

"You'll need these to mine tearstones," the guards said. "They glow, so you'll know when you've found them. You will be watched. Anyone who takes a break from working will be scourged. Once you've filled your mine carts with tearstones, carry them to the hoist and get a new cart."

Valentine grabbed his pickaxe, but nearly dropped it when he first tried to lift it. Heavy... But he did not complain out loud. No one did. The reality of the situation dawned on the slaves. They realized the truth. They were slaves. They would never be free. They will never escape. Some of the slaves broke down when they realized the situation they were in, but were whipped back to their feet.

The guards brought Valentine and the others to the corridors they were assigned to. They pushed Valentine to a wall of rock, a pickaxe in his hand. He couldn't help but wonder how this all happened. Just earlier that day he was on his way home. It was his turn to prepare dinner, but now he didn't even know what time it was. A certain thought entered his mind and a cold sweat swept over him and his heart clenched in his chest. Was she also brought here? Is she alright? Is she also a slave? His arms faltered for a moment and he dropped his pickaxe.