Chapter 5 - A Bumpy Ride

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We had been travelling almost non-stop for the last twenty-four hours

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We had been travelling almost non-stop for the last twenty-four hours.

Since I belonged to the most Southern province and the Lycan's territory was the furthest Northern region within the Malvar Empire, we had over four hundred miles to cover.

Usually, it would take an average horse about five days give or take between stops to complete the journey.

Although, the horses the Lycans possessed were much faster and needed less resting time. As a result, it would take us about two days to reach our destination. At least that was what I had been told during our first intermittent exchanges of dialogue.

Needless to say, I was glad that we were halfway through, for I was ready to leave the confined space that I found myself sharing with the Lycan King. My curiousity about him had been growing the more time I spent in his presence, and I did not wish for my interest to be so evident.

Within the first few hours of leaving my home, I ended up falling asleep. Imagine my surprise when I woke up to find penetrating grey-green eyes keenly staring at me.

After passing through three of the provinces within the central plains, I could not help but notice the treatment of some of the humans when we stopped to get some food at one of the local taverns.

Some looked happy and content in their position, going about their daily tasks with a smile on their faces. However, I noticed that some wore collars around their necks while their werewolf masters cursed and beat them. Their bodies were riddled with bruises, their overall appearance haggard, as though they had not eaten properly for days.

It seemed that I was more ignorant to the workings of the empire than I cared to admit.

When I boldly began to ask the Lycan King questions, he simply told me that I should not concern myself with such things, commenting that I had my own fate to worry about.

He calmly stated that what the Vizras of each region did with their subjects was no concern of his. Once their treatment remained within the confines of the laws, he saw no problem with it.

Humans were at the bottom of the social structure and had no real say in what happened to them or their kin. If such grievances were brought to the head of the human healing family, it was their responsibility to bring such matters to the Vizra's attention.

In turn, it was up to the Vizra to ensure that no detrimental abuse was administered to the humans by those they served. But even as he explained certain things to me, I still felt slightly confused by the way everything seemed to work.

Clearly, Vizra Rorik was a great werewolf, for his province held no such abuses from what I had ever seen. The treatment of humans under his watch was nothing like what I had been privy to in these last few hours, as no such complaints had ever been brought forth to my father. Together, they both ensured that humans and werewolves co-existed within the social constructs of the empire.

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