Chapter 2: Chapter 1 – A Villain Enslaves a Villain

The sun was about to set when three men stood in front of the sole surviving gate of the ancient town of Awa to prevent an outsider’s entry. They saw him riding his horse and crossing the mountain roads without wearing a veil or mask to protect himself from the plague, which had spread weeks ago and killed many residents and travelers who passed through.

The alarming rates of death left the governor with no choice but to issue a lockdown order and close the sole gate of the town to prevent people from entering or leaving.

The appearance of the stranger suggested he was a knight of Arkosia Empire, and an extraordinary one. His dark blue uniform, which was garnished with real gold buttons, was in perfect harmony with his knee-high black boots. Attached to his wide leather belt were his two most frequently used weapons: a whip and an axe, both typically Arkosian and intimidating enough to send a shiver down the spines of their victims.

When the knight approached the three men, his features became clear. He was a notably tall man of great build, with broad shoulders, long limbs, and long thick hair that hung on his back in the form of thick brown braids adorned with silver ornaments. His handsome face bore a long, straight nose, beautiful, upturned eyes with thick eyelashes, and plump lips that seemed unaccustomed to silence.

“Who is this?”

“He is not wearing a veil or mask!”

“Ah, he is an Arkosian.”

The men carried no weapons of any kind, except for the thin sticks they used for herding cattle, and they showed no signs of aggression or eagerness to fight. A pair of twins stood directly before the gate, while the third guard, the oldest of the three, was sitting aside on a wooden chair. When the knight stopped before them, he remained on horseback, and said in a proud, clear voice, “Open the gate for me.”

Upon hearing his tone, which sounded as if he was accustomed to giving orders, the eldest, whose white beard reached the middle of his chest, responded in a calm voice, “The town has been suffering from an infectious plague for many weeks. It is safer not to pass through, young man.”

One of the two brothers confidently added, “We have explicit instructions from the governor to prevent town visitors from entering, and to prevent its residents from leaving until the plague is contained and eliminated.”

“Throughout my wandering in your kingdom and until I reached Pyrom, I didn’t encounter anyone talking about any plague.”

One of the two brothers took a step toward the knight. “Fortunately, the spread of the plague is limited. We believe that the reason for its spread in our town started from the Awa Temple located at the top of the mountain north of the town,” he solemnly replied.

Pointing his stick to the north, his twin brother added, “It is a famous temple that used to be frequented by many people from around the world. However, three years ago, the king ordered its closure after expelling the hermits. A number of soldiers have now been assigned to guard its gate and walls, and people have been prevented entry. It became a cursed place.”

“Indeed. Everyone believes that the famous temple has been converted into a secret prison because there is a prisoner—a very dangerous one, whose presence has called for maximum security over the years. He is still there. They are there. Despite the plague.”

Can’t these idiots explain it better? They sound eager to talk about the prisoner more than the plague. The knight sighed. “So you say that the reason why this plague has spread in your town is the temple; but I don’t see the connection,” his face glowing with anticipation.

“Sir, the supplies of the soldiers, who guard the Awa Temple, are provided by the town’s merchants. We believe the transmission can be explained by the contact between merchants with those in the temple during the transportation of goods. They even brought in rats with them to our town!” one of the twins sighed. “But we cannot stop the merchants from leaving the town. It is their duty to provide the soldiers, who serve the King, with supplies. Their next trip to the temple will be tomorrow.”

 “True! Rats have recently spread throughout the town,” the other twin chimed in, “they must have crept from the temple to the merchants’ carts to get into the town, so—”

“The plague has been passed to us because of that devil in the temple,” the old man interrupted.

The three turned to look at him sitting on the side. He had stated his belief confidently, before adding, “I am talking about the devil guarded by the king’s soldiers, but we don’t know much about him.”

The knight smiled as he prepared to continue his march. “Is he still under guard?”

“Yes, he is the curse that has brought plague and death upon us,” the old man insisted while stroking his long beard, before adding, “Do you intend to go to the temple?”

 “My coming here was not planned,” the knight looked up confidently, “but I will put an end to this plague.”

The old man straightened up and took a small vial of medicine out of a small bag over his shoulder. “I admire your confidence young man, and I just remembered that the Arkosians are immune to plagues; they neither transmit them nor get infected by them,” he approached the knight and said while handing the vial to him, “Please take this with you; someone might need it. Thank you for helping us.”

The knight smirked as they made space for him to cross through the gate before closing it behind him.

***

Despite the townspeople’s doubts, fears, and disapproval of the foolish guards’ doing, the knight quickly crossed the roads heading north to take a shortcut through the mountains that led to the temple.

He originally did not intend to visit the temple, but curiosity got the better of him especially after hearing about the plague and the guarded devil. Besides, he wished to end his journey in this country by going on a small adventure, of which he would tell the details to his friend, the Crown Prince of Arkosia.

When the Arkosian knight reached his destination, he marveled at how quiet and deserted the place looked. When he saw the torches of the four towers extinguished, he felt a strong sense of foreboding. That sense grew tense as he approached the ancient high walls. He did not see a single soldier.

Then he stood behind the gate, and an overwhelming stench reached his nose of human waste and rotting corpses. He got off his horse and pushed the gate, which, as he expected, was not locked.

Inside, he saw the bodies of the soldiers scattered to the right and left. The knight then, disappeared from the front yard instantly and reappeared at the entrances of each of the four towers only to find the guards dead inside.

Then, he disappeared again and reappeared in the main hall of the temple, which was heavily stained with blood and crowded with rotting disease-ridden bodies.

After examining many of the bodies, the blood traces showed that they had died from a deep stab wound. It wasn’t the plague that killed them. Someone had ripped their intestines out with a blade, he believed.

When the Arkosian knight was sure that there was no living soul in the place, he destroyed the stone pillars, that were scattered throughout the hall and supported its high roof, with one blow of his hand, into which the destructive current of his Uthusian energy flowed.

Then, the knight burnt the entire place. First, he set fire to the polished tree trunks that were supporting the ceiling of the hall after their collapse over the corpses.

He set fire again to the corpses of the soldiers at the gate after placing on top of them a load of wooden planks he found stacked on top of each other in one corner of the yard.

As for the bodies of the guards inside the towers, he simply set the wooden stairs on fire, and let the merciless flames consume them.

It was almost dark when the knight had finished his mission. It was an easy task for him as he did that using his Uthusian energy that flowed through his body to his strong arms. He closed the gate of the burning temple behind him, and wanted to leave quickly before being exposed, had it not been for an old man, who appeared from nowhere and stopped him.

“My lord,” the old man quickly approached him. He was of short stature, emaciated and devastated by hunger and disease. “You did well to set the place on fire,” he lifted his hand feebly, “the existence of dead bodies increases the possibility of spreading the plague.”

“Who are you?” the knight, who looked calm and composed, asked suspiciously.

The old man did not seem to have heard the knight’s question. “But my lord, I saw your tremendous power in destroying the pillars and moving the planks from one place to another with ease.” The old man stared at the knight’s face and added in a tone that reflected a hidden feeling of dread, “Nothing is too difficult for you, Arkosian demons.”

“What do you want?” the knight asked as he grew impatient. He was not sure if he heard a compliment or an insult.

“Someone refuses to leave the place still and refuses to be helped,” the old man coughed. “Get him out of here.”

“No one is in the temple,” the knight confirmed.

“True, no one is alive inside the temple,” the old man nodded. Pointing to the other side, he added. “But the young man I’m referring to is hiding in a secret room underground behind the north tower.”

The knight shrugged indifferently. “If he refuses help, that’s his business.”

“Please, my lord. Get him out of there, before the king finds out about him. Take him away—he saved my life and—,” fearing the knight’s disregarding his request, the old man blurted, “he has such extraordinary abilities as yours.”

The knight blinked at the old man, who stood there for some time squinting his eyes at him. Yet he turned his horse away and rode toward the hill.

The knight intended to wash his hands and get away from the place before someone else discovers the fire and exposes him, but an inner feeling was urging him to return to the temple from the northern side and search for that young man. He finally decided to leave his horse tied to a tree trunk and returned to that place.

***

The knight heard a high-pitched wheezy cough coming from behind thick thorn bushes. When he approached, he saw a faint light of a candle emerging from a hole in the ground, and at the bottom of it a young man lying on one side shivering.

From the look of his limbs, the young man appeared emaciated. Then he began vomiting. He looks ill, it seems like the effects of the plague, the Knight felt disgusted.

The knight got down on one knee and after releasing some energy, hit the borders of the hole with one hand which collapsed underneath him and expanded. He then jumped into the hole and landed on the dirty floor beneath him.

He stood watching the branches of the thorny bushes above falling around him along with black snakes that scattered in confusion wanting to escape from the smoke and the flames of the tower above them.

The knight was so tall, that his hair touched the ceiling above him. He did not like how narrow and dirty the place was. Therefore, he roughly and quickly grabbed the sick young man by his shirt, indifferent to his condition, while kicking the snakes that got in the way. He noticed the young man’s cane, picked it up, and instantly disappeared.

The knight, who kept carelessly grabbing the sick young man by his shabby shirt, reappeared in front of the river that ran behind the hill. Even though the air was filled with smoke and the stench of burned flesh, the smell of the young man was stinky enough to hit the knight’s nose and force him to stop at the riverbank.

The Arkosian knight threw the young man’s body on the ground and heard him let out a muffled groan as he rolled in pain from the hard fall.

“You stink!” the knight said in displeasure while examining the young man’s clothes. “What is this? Is this your blood or the blood of those you slaughtered?”

The Arkosian knight hastened to wash his hands and face, and then grabbed the young man by his clothes again and immersed him casually in the running water for some time without releasing him.

“Wash—wash and be cleansed so that I can speak to you,” he savagely complained, then added, “Ah! I can’t stand it! When was the last time you took a shower, bastard?”

Although the young man was exhausted, in vain, he resisted the strong arms of the Arkosian man, who kept his body fixed on a flat rock at the bottom of the river.

The furious young man could not curse as the running water hit his throat. All that could be seen of him was his body reeling under the water and his wet hair covering his face.

“Leave— me— alone! Ugh! Let me —go!” he cried out agitated.

“Huh? Leave you to die? —So you’ve been seeking death, and I’ve spoiled your plans.”

The knight raised his eyebrows in disapproval. He then, lifted the young man up for a few seconds in the air before flinging him back into the water with the same savage force.

“How did you manage to live with all those corpses all this time? I am certain it was your doing! I can tell that you have their blood on your hands! You —err! I had to burn the place to cleanse it and prevent the spread of the plague.”

The knight lifted the sick young man once more into the air and began examining him with his wide eyes, but it was too dark to discern the sick features. Yet, the young man was clearly wheezing and coughing as he tried to free himself from the grip of the knight.

“Tell me, why are you still alive? What happened there?”

The knight did not wait for an answer and immersed the sick young man in the water again until the sick young man managed to punch the knight in the face with all his might.

That punch caused the knight to take a step back and release the young man who fell backward onto the riverbank.

The young man quickly stood up, only to fall again on one knee this time. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” he shouted in frustration.

The knight, seemingly unperturbed by his opponent’s blow, stood up straight, his eyes shining with a strange excitement. “I am your savior! —but—” he took one step forward, “I think I won’t regret it.”

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“Savior? I won’t thank you”, the young man quickly retorted, “I don’t owe you anything.” He began coughing.

At that moment, the Arkosian knight pounced on him, pinning him to the ground and pulled out the medicine bottle from his pocket. He then poured the bitter liquid down the young man’s throat by force.

The latter resisted fiercely, trying to free his jaw from the grip of the large Arkosian palm and strong fingers that almost pierced his delicate skin. However, the sick man was no match for the young Arkosian knight.

“After I set the place on fire and left—stop, don’t resist! —a strange old man, followed me, and begged me to save you— he showed me where you were hiding.”

While speaking, the knight placed one of his knees on his opponent’s chest and the weight was too much that the latter thought a heavy rock was about to break his ribs.

“He begged me to get you out—Damn you! Do not resist me. Thank me!”

The sick young man was unable to free himself until he released invisible energy from his free hand in the shape of a highly concentrated water ball, which came out from the surface of the river and knocked his opponent with speed and force.

This happened within a few seconds, and it was followed by the young man’s having a severe coughing fit after he had swallowed the bitter taste of an anti-plague drug.

Realizing that this Arkosian had saved him twice against his will, he became enraged. “Why should I thank you after forcing poisonous extract down my throat?” he coughed, “What a bad drug combination! A poisonous Olfed extract— Not to mention— that your vial has been exposed to the heat —for so long,” he coughed again. “It’s useless!”

The Arkosian knight, whose clothes were soaking wet, returned to where his opponent was sitting, striding confidently toward him, his loud audible breaths did not indicate fatigue or anger, but rather excitement and flowing energy.

Could he be the guarded devil the three guards were talking about? I wonder. The knight then stopped right in front of the young man and asked him. “Do you have powers other than controlling water?”

“Why do you ask?”

“The old man said that you possessed extraordinary powers.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about.”

“Were you imprisoned by the king?”

“…”

“Are you Empamalangonian?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“...”

Unsure of his opponent’s intentions, the young man remained silent for some time, but the Arkosian one had no time, as his departing ship was awaiting him in the port of the Capital.

“ANSWER ME!” The Arkosian shouted impatiently.

“I AM NOT FROM THIS KINGDOM!”

The young man answered with equal strength, wanting to end the conversation with the Arkosian knight. However, he was unaware of what fate had in store for him because of that answer.

As soon as he uttered those words, the knight pounced on him again and within a second, pinned him to the ground with his knee. Then he grabbed the young man’s left hand with his Arkosian palm and shouted wildly, his eyes glowing in the dark.

“In the name of Uthus the Great, I have taken you to be my slave. I am your eternal master, Vermon, and Orb shall be your name.”

Orb was screaming in great pain at the intense heat concentrating in his left hand and running through his veins. The pain was so intense as if someone was cauterizing him in different parts of his body at the same time.

His body was writhing in a desperate attempt to free his hand, which was burning and bleeding under Vermon’s big palm.

For several long minutes, Vermon remained unmoved, solid as a rock, watching the features of his victim with his wide eyes shining in ecstasy. He secretly enjoyed Orb’s uninterrupted screams, and his futile attempts to free himself.

“I like that”, he smirked.

***

When Vermon finally released his slave, he straightened up feeling ecstasy. “From now on, I won’t get bored,” he said while fixing his eyes on a glowing circle with strange symbols sealed on the back of Orb’s left hand.

“And this sacred seal cannot be removed,” he triumphantly stated.

Meanwhile, Orb, with tears in the corners of his eyes, struggled to suppress his groans. His right hand, which held his left, was trembling in a way that made Vermon chuckle while watching.

The blood continued to trickle out of the sealed hand while the feeling of the inflamed peeled skin grew intense by the time. Orb, now breathing heavily, sat up and rasped, “What —did you do?”

“Hmm? I branded you with the seal of Uthus.”

Vermon helped Orb up, “From now on, I am your master. You will live as long as you bear my seal. You will never be able to die without my permission. What’s more, you cannot get rid of it, even if you try to cut off your hand.” He then gestured at Orb’s bleeding hand.

Orb began staggering aimlessly, imagining himself floundering in deep darkness caused by his feeling of loss and fear. His suffering had many reasons: the persistent pain in his damaged eyes, the fatigue caused by contracting the plague, the bitter taste of the poisonous Olfed herb, and the pain of his sealed hand that was peeling and bleeding at the same time. Yet, the pain of enslavement was the strongest.

Orb realized that his so-called savior was nothing but a demon from the Arkosian Empire and that the seal confirmed his state of enslavement and inferiority. Such a demon might have come to the Kingdom of Empamalangon on some mission and found Orb in his weakest state to enslave him. Alas, the Empire of Arkosia was the only one among the six world states in which slavery was common and legal.

Vermon’s voice reached Orb’s ears, faint and floating, “From now on, I won’t get bored. What? What are you saying?”

“How —? Who are you?” Orb slurred his words. He went on uttering a few incoherent words wearily as Vermon began to tie ropes around his emaciated waist.

“Why did I make you my slave?”

He looked at Orb, whose dripping hair was strewn across his face.

“Ah, I didn’t really plan on this; however, you seem to be a knowledgeable book reader, possessing extraordinary powers, fierce and short-tempered.” He paused for a moment, “I liked that about you. You seem fun to toy with.”

Vermon handed him his cane. “Here. Your cane to help you walk. Thank me for saving it with you.”

Then, he dragged Orb behind him by the end of the rope, and the latter walked like he was under the influence of sedatives. Orb felt drowsy and lightheaded. Trembling with the terrible persistent pain of the seal and the disease, he sweated excessively.

“That’s my end—no use …” Orb murmured in unabashed despair as Vermon grinned in amusement.

“Yes, you are mine now. Do not try to rid yourself of me because you cannot; you will torment yourself instead.”

After walking a few meters away from the hill overlooking the temple, Vermon mounted his horse still wrapping Orb’s rope around his big Arkosian hand.

“Follow me.”

With these words, he did not give Orb enough time to react, as the horse moved from a trot to canter. However, as Orb tried his best to keep pace with the horse, he stumbled and fell to the ground.

This did not stop Vermon, who looked back for a moment and lifted his arm to pull the sick body of Orb off the ground a few centimeters before falling again.

“You’re not fun at all!”

“S—top!” Orb panted.

“What a weakling! I intend to discipline you.”

At that moment, Orb stood up and dropped his cane. Despite his shortness of breath and fatigue, he began to run. However, he soon lost his balance again and fell, and Vermon continued to drag him, tied by the waist, down the mountain.

That night, Vermon dragged Orb ruthlessly for hours, without looking back. Disregarding intentionally the suffering and the moans of his slave, Vermon maintained the cool and composed appearance of an Arkosian knight.

During one of the two rest stops for the horse on that long journey, Vermon dismounted his horse and stood before his new slave, examining him with interest.

Not once did he show concern for Orb, not even when he found out too late that Orb had no shoes on, and that his clothes were tattered and dirtied with soil and blood.

However, Vermon once and reluctantly did try to give Orb some water from a canteen he carried with him. Orb, who was laying on the ground, was too exhausted to swallow, so what he gathered leaked from the sides of his mouth, but Vermon did not care.

When Vermon, at last, reached Lipin, the capital of the Empamalangon Kingdom, he boarded his ready and waiting ship and gave the order to leave for the Empire of Arkosia through the seaport that night.

Vermon kept his new slave with his horse in the cargo hold throughout the voyage, and no one dared to object or question the owner of the ship.

***

NOTES

 

Awa (Ancient Temple). [Pronunciation Guide: Aa-wah]

Arkosia (Empire of the North). [Pronunciation Guide: Arko-zee-yaa]

Arkosian, a native of Arkosia which is one of the mightiest and longest-lasting Empires in the world. (-ian is a suffix attached to the original noun Arkosia and functions as an adjective)

Uthusian, related to Uthus, the founder of the Empire of Arkosia. (-ian is a suffix attached to the original noun Uthus and functions as an adjective)

Olfed (Poisonous Herb). Pronunciation Guide [all-fed]

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