'This forest belongs to the elves.'
The words lingered deeply within his mind. The more he tried to pierce the conscious thoughts flashing through his mind, the more darkness clouded his mind. It was odd, so very odd.
Seeing the elder who spoke, grey hair hanging down from his scalp hiding his countenance, stop speaking, a quiet sigh escaped from him his eyes darkened with great despair.
'I can't escape from this carriage, I can't ask for help from that voice... sigh, truly this world is against me.'
His quiet musings brought his a dose of the cruel reality, a reality so potent he was forced to realize his circumstance.
A tradition had been established within the great family, that everyone who forsook their duty within the family shall be stripped of everything, strength, power, family, status. Anything and everything that belonged to them previously was taken and that same tradition applied to everybody, from the king to the lowliest servant. So the boy formerly known as Jedaiah had lived a life far beyond the common. Born as a prince for the great Telemenpha family, he was exposed to many a great things that the common people could not even dream of much less know about, but now that he had been reduced to nothing but a slave, those memories of grandeur seemingly nothing more than a great illusion of old.
A slave was a person who could no longer be called human. They were so low in the hierarchy of the continent that they were seen as nothing more than gravel. Their lives were not their own, their deaths were not their own and certainly their future was not their own. Subjected to cruel tortures, inhuman experiments, harsh treatments and many violations, slaves were of so little value they were usually likened to sand on the road. Anybody could pick it up and they could also throw it away, such was the life of a slave and the reason why the young boy had so greatly despaired.
The world moved on regardless of the plights of the boy as the sun began to set. Seeing that the sun was setting, the guards charged with the slave convoy decided to set up camp. Naturally they did nothing, leaving the former humans called slaves to do everything. Hurriedly preparing camp and setting up the fire, the slaves aimed to please their captors in a disgustingly crude but effective manner.
The food the captors served could only be classified as "slop." A soup so thin and crude, of highly questionable taste was served leading to majority of the slaves not stomaching the food. Bile was vomited all round the camp as violent retching's took place filling the atmosphere with ugly sounds and disgusting smells, but this neither moved nor brought any sense of care to the guards. The effects were of greater effect to the young boy from royalty. Used to refined meals aimed at nutrition and satisfaction, the dish served now tasted so alien and abhorrent, he suffered violent regurgitation, forming a pool of yellowish-green until he could no longer spew forth what was trapped in his stomach.
Sinister smiles appeared on the caravan guards.
'Why would they do this, aren't we merchandise meant to be delivered?' The cadaverous elder thought, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. Catching a glimpse of the guards with sinister smiles adorning their varied faces, a cold terror gripped his aged heart.
Seeing that the gravel where struggling to consume the meal they had so "graciously" prepared, an evil plan was born within their degenerate minds. A brutish man of great height, approached the center of the camp,
"SLAVES!!"
The booming voice of the tall figure resounded within the environment.
"It has come to my attention that the meal which was so "graciously" prepared and served by us guards has been greatly wasted by your ungrateful wretches. But we being former knights, chivalry bound and mercy given has forced me and my companions with a duty, to prepare another meal for you. Be glad you have such kind and caring masters."
Hypocrites.
"But to prepare the meal, we need ingredients which we currently lack. Then with our great mental faculties we stumbled upon a most glorious idea, to sacrifice a few for the greater. Isn't it not a most wonderful idea?"
He spoke in a eloquent manner, painting a picture in the slaves minds, but, the final statements made by the black haired brute, garnered a new emotion from them.
Faces paled as they realized the true intent of the brute spewing madness before them. The guards dressed in full plated armor simply chuckled with expressions of joy at being praised by the convoy leader who preached before the convoy of wretches.
Laying in a pool of his vomit, the crimson haired boy paled as he heard the words spoken by the convoy leader.
"t-to s-acrifice?!"
It was a pretty way to gloss it over but he knew... they all knew what he meant.
"Devil."
Only a devil could utter such, such madness. It was a uniform thought shared by all the wretches hearing the sheer madness being spouted by the brute called 'Juon.'
The sheer lunacy and depravity uttered by the convoy leader, lead a bunch of the slaves to unknowingly start tearing up. For those who stayed in the convoy longest, a sense of horror descended upon their hearts as they knew what was going to take place, all for the selfish desire to live.
"So then, let's begin."
It was in no way a pretty sight. The moment they were told to go begin, a silence enveloped the camp. It was as if the world itself had come witness the depravity that was about to take place, then a shout of surprise grasped the senses of the slaves... then that marked it all.
Friends turned enemies, mother against child, lover against lover, child against child. A brutal massacre took place.
The violent expressions of fear, the horrors of being strangled, the weak preying on the weaker. The sheer madness of it all contorted pale ashen face whilst tears streamed down, had the world gone mad or had he?
Seeing the crimson haired boy lay in his vomit, a slave so gaunt they looked like a living skeleton, fell atop the still boy, deftly tying the silver chains across his thin neck effectively strangling him.
The cries of fear, the screams of horror and the shouts of murder, dimmed as light began flickering in the heterochromia eyes, all whilst fruitlessly gasping for air. The emaciated person pulling hard on the chains.
His arms flailed wildly across the empty air.
His feet dancing wildly.
Foam frothed in his mouth.
He was dying... the young boy was effectively dying.
His desire to live, his goals for the future, his ambitions... all flickered... being snuffed out by another's burning desire to survive.
Then it all stopped... darkness obscured his vision as the glowing embers of life were snuffed.
Seeing that the boy had died, the emaciated person, slowly began to rise up, gasping for air trying to gather the strength to move, to survive but they suddenly jerked to the side, with a look of confusion on their tired face as their head was bashed open.