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Chapter 17 - The Massacre

  “Do the thing,” one of the ex-slaves said. Verona sat on the muddy stool, holding the ruby close to her. She closed her eyes and Absorbed in its essence. With a snap of her finger, the firewood they’d gathered came alight.

  She’d done this tens of times in her short time with them, and each time, they had the same reaction. A bit of awe followed by applause.

  During the hunt last night, they managed to find a total of three scuttles, which was rare. They were more active at night than day, so it was no surprise how many they found, despite their rarity. They preferred to move in darkness, and the darker the night, the more they moved around, so with Verona’s fire, it was easier to see which boulder was a scuttle.

  To the side, multiple large skewers sat, stacked to the brim with juicy scuttle meat. They’d used some seasoning on the meat made by one the ex-slaves, whose job before escaping was cooking.

  Siva grabbed one of the skewers and excitedly held it over the flame, turning it in his hand. It took a while for the meat to cook, but the ex-slaves never once lost interest in watching as the meat turned darker.

  Verona loved their energy. The way their eyes lit up in excitement at the tiniest thing, the protectiveness and fondness they all displayed towards her. It reminded her of something she lost long ago, something her mind barely wanders to. It reminded her of a once-home.

  When the meat was cooked inside out, Siva took a slimy piece off the skewer and handed it to Verona. “Since this is your first hunt and you helped us with the fire, you get to try the meat first.”

  Verona hesitantly took the meat and rolled it in her hands, inspecting it. Slime left its mark wherever it touched her finger, but the smokey smell left her stomach rumbling and her mouth salivating.

  She took a bite. Despite the disgusting texture, the flavor of meat exploded in her mouth, different sensations of saltiness and sweetness dancer on her tongue. She ate the whole piece and found herself asking for more. Siva laughed and obliged, handing her another one.

  Party broke out and she joined in with the rest of the ex-slaves, laughing and being joyous, drinking from a mug, and dancing with them.

  Of course, as with everything in her life, her happiness wouldn’t last long.

  The entrance to the hobbit hole broke in. Dancing, laughing, and talking ceased at once, and all eyes moved towards the gape where sunlight streamed through. An exit was made, but no one left.

  Another swing and the entrance grew wider. One more swing and it completely broke through, revealing a legion of soldiers on the other side of it.

  At the head, stood Lord Demarian, without his helmet on, a devious smile spreading across his lips.

  “I’ve found you,” he said, stepping in and sauntering up to the middle of the room. All eyes were on Lord Demarian. Verona’s heart beat faster and faster. She could only associate bad memories with this man. She wanted to reach for a weapon and fight him, but Siva held her back.

  “It’s too dangerous,” he whispered. He shoved her behind him and the two backed together. The rest of the ex-slaves remained in position. Chatham stood the closest to Demarian, with Kirith by his side.

  Verona couldn’t help but blame herself. She’d been the center of bad things all throughout her life, and she was foolish to think now would be an exception. It was because she went with Siva that Lord Demarian found his way to their bunker.

  It was because of her that her parents died. And it was because of her that Lord Demarian came to the camp and made the other slaves’ lives a living hell. Everywhere she went, she brought bad omen with her. Because Lord Demarian stood there, she knew that she was meant to be alone in this world.

  “You all have the slave brands upon your foreheads!” he exclaimed. “That can only mean one thing. You are all my property. Luckily, I’m in a better mood because of what happened on my journey to Jovin City. So I give you all an ultimatum. Either you return quietly back to your respective labor camps and fulfill your duties as property.” Lord Demarian unsheathed his sword. The only source of light in the underground at the moment was the fire Verona created and the sunlight from outside, and all the light from the sun seemed to reflect off the magnificent steel blade. “Or you die.”

  “We would rather die than ever go back!” one of the slaves shouted. And then the commotion began.

  Soldiers unsheathing their weapons, flooding into the little hole. The ex-slaves ran for weapons. They didn’t have many, as only one crew would go hunting at a time. Some ex-slaves fought bare-handed to try and take some weapons from the soldiers.

  Verona, on the other hand, was ushered into another room by Siva. He knelt down to come face to face with her. He wiped away her tears. She didn’t even notice she was crying.

  “It’s all my fault,” she whispered. “Bad things happen no matter where I go. I’m so sorry.”

  Siva pulled her in for a hug. “Don’t be silly,” he whispered back. “None of this is your fault. We’d been lucky for too long, and that made us more complacent. We should have moved sooner, but we didn’t think this day would come so fast.

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  “Listen, if there is to be one survivor in this battle, it has to be you. You are special. You can do things many others can’t, and you will be able to change this land, for the better. I believe in you.”

  They pulled apart. “My only regret is the time we spent together had been short. I wish I got to know you a little bit more,” Siva spoke.

  From outside, they could hear the sound of their friends getting stabbed and dying. Verona wanted to rush out there and do something. Maybe she could use the ruby and burn up the soldiers!

  Siva held her back. He shook his head. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Escape is the only option.”

  “There’s only one entrance,” Verona said. “There’s no way we can get out.”

  Siva shook his head again. “No, we won’t get out. But you will.” He held up the soldier’s armor they had. No, there were more of those right?

  “There’s four of those armors!” Verona complained. “You could escape too. You could wear it and we can pretend to be soldiers and leave.”

  Siva shook his head once again. “You didn’t notice it, but when Lord Demarian came down here, he counted how many people were down here. They’re going to count the bodies as well. My hope is he didn’t see you. If too many of us try to infiltrate his ranks, and the number of bodies doesn’t match what he saw, then he’s going to suspect something.

  “No,” Verona said, tears stinging the corner of her eyes. “I can’t leave without you! I don’t want to be alone again.”

  “You won’t be,” Siva said. “No one is alone in this world. You will just have to meet new people, and let them love you like we have in our time together. You won’t be alone.”

  Sounds of people dying rang out all around them. “Listen to me, you can do this. You can change the shape of this land. Be the person who will fight for others. I told you the way this world works is the strong comes out on top and the weak suffer, right? Be the one to make the difference. Be one of the strong willing to protect the weak, so people like us won’t have to scavenge just to get by. Change the shape of this world. I know you can do this, Jocie.”

  “My real name,” she said. “Is Verona.”

  Siva smiled. “I knew Jocie wasn’t your real name.” With that, Siva worked swiftly to get the armor over Verona. She complained and whined as he did so, but eventually, she wore the entire suit. She looked just like the soldiers in the other room.

  Siva put a spear in her hands and shoved her out of the room. She made her way through and saw bodies quickly piling on the ground, blood running red through the cracks in the ground. Siva charged at Lord Demarian, picking up a fallen sword along the way. He let out a primal scream as he charged.

  Then he got impaled. Just like that, it was over for him. All the ex-slaves dead. Chatham, Kirith, the woman who could make good spices, Siva, all dead.

  She wanted to scream out and cry, but could not find her voice. She stood there, paralyzed, staring at the dead and disfigured bodies which littered the ground.

  Not even ten minutes ago, they were all gathered around the fire, cooking scuttle meat, and having a good time. The fire had been put out, and the soldiers ordered to retreat.

  How could someone do such a thing, cause such a disaster? She stared daggers at Lord Demarian, hate making its way into her heart. She wanted to charge him and skewer him. One of the strong who’d gladly trample all over the weak. She fought every urge in her body to not go charging. Siva had done that, and he’d end up dead.

  Verona had no choice but to accept what had happened.

  Siva had been right. Lord Demarian sifted among the bodies, looking for slave brands and counting how many bodies there were. Not a single one remained. That was confirmed by the sinister smile on Lord Demarian’s face when he counted the last of the ex-slaves.

  “Alright, our work here is done!” he exclaimed. “All dead. Now we leave. To Rathalin for the announcement with the king!”

  At the sound of that, soldiers began filing out of the hole, Lord Demarian at the lead. Verona was the last one out of the cave. Every muscle in her body shook. Her heart ached for those people.

  Outside, horses stood, waiting for riders to return. Some horses were empty, as some soldiers had perished in the battle. Much fewer soldiers than Verona’s friends unfortunately. Lord Demarian said he would send some scouts back to retrieve the bodies and inform the families of the fallen.

  Verona took one of the bare horses and began riding in line with all the other soldiers. A new mission made its way into her head. She’d never felt this much anger in her life before, not even during her time as a slave. Anger directed to the damn Minister. Verona had been a gentle person, doing as she was told quietly, and taking punishment without complaint. But now, something had changed inside her.

  She wanted this man dead.

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