Chapter 3: Chapter 2 – The Road to Arkosia

It was dawn when the ship of Vermon, son of Uthus, at last set sail out of Lipin for the Empire of Arkosia. Aboard was Vermon, his crew, and Orb, his new slave, brought in from the Eastern Kingdom of Empamalangon. After hours of sailing, Vermon left his private cabin and went below deck to check on his horse and his new slave.

He saw Orb sleeping with his back leaning against the wall, and his left hand covered with a white handkerchief. Vermon raised one eyebrow in displeasure when he recognized it, as it was nothing but his own white silk handkerchief. Orb must have taken it without permission from Vermon’s bag, which had been forgotten on the back of his horse.

How dare he touch my bag and steal my white handkerchief? Vermon felt disgusted as he stared at the blood-stained handkerchief.

Vermon observed Orb’s short, rough breathing. The wheezing sound coming out of the sick lungs made him worry a little. Using the light of the lamp in the middle of the compartment, Vermon examined the features of the young man sleeping before him.

Despite his emaciation and pallor, Orb had beautiful and harmonious features; he had small lips, and a dimple in the chin that suggested a benevolent nature. His wavy light-brown hair, which touched his shoulders, shone under the lamp’s golden light.

Orb’s feet were sore and bloody after the torment of dragging him all those long distances the previous night. The constant coughs were cutting through the peace of his sleep.

Vermon, feeling a sudden urge to speak to him, kicked him in the side. Orb, whose eyes were dull with weariness, woke up in pain, wet his chapped lips, and said nothing.

“Aren’t you a drug expert?”

“What?”

Orb asked that question in genuine confusion as his focus was not at his best.

“Yesterday, you complained about the medicine I gave you. You mentioned that it contained a poisonous herb whose name I forgot, and I understood that it does not suit you,” Vermon grumbled, “You spoke from knowledge and experience, so give me the right combination.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Orb said indifferently as he tilted his head back in fatigue. He just remembered that he was in the presence of a cold-blooded monster, and that terrible reality made him reluctant to cooperate.

 “You can’t fool me. If you’re an herbalist, as you say you are, give it to me,” Vermon blustered in clear frustration he did not intend to control.

“Herbalist? I don’t remember saying that,” Orb released a cough, and then added, “I just read about the proper combination somewhere, that’s all,” he released another cough, “Why do you want it?”

“Give it to me!”

“I don’t understand. If you are trying to help me,” he coughed, “why so brutal? What are you? A beast?”

The moment Orb uttered his last angry word, Vermon kicked his side for the second time and hurt him. Orb retaliated by kicking Vermon’s leg causing him to drop to one knee.

The thought of enslavement was unbearable to make Orb hold a grudge, and because he was resentful enough to resist Vermon’s repeated assaults on him, he never hesitated to hit him back.

Therefore, the two traded blows as they rolled on the ground until Vermon’s got the upper hand and threw a knee strike into Orb’s stomach, causing him to writhe in pain on the ground while irritably suppressing his moan.

Vermon then stood up, grabbed him by the collar of his dirty clothes, dragged him through the narrow corridors of the ship to the sunlit side of the deck, and then lifted him up to his eye level.

Vermon’s face darkened, and after a moment of silence, he seethed, “What? Blind? No—You are blind! Who poked your eyes?”

As Orb’s emaciated hands held Vermon’s strong arm, which kept him hanging in the air, Vermon continued in outright disgust, “What a waste! You’re blind! If I had known, I wouldn’t have made you, my slave! What’s the purpose of keeping you?” and he threw Orb to the ground.

Standing over him, Vermon lashed out at Orb. “Is it not enough for you to be gaunt, sick, and bad-tempered? Why so ugly and blind? I am seriously thinking of feeding you to the sea monsters—I regret saving you. Damn it!”

“Are you cursing me for my own blindness or yours?” Orb interjected bitterly.

“Shut up!” Vermon snapped.

Vermon paused for a moment before saying, “As for the drug combination—forget it, I had seriously considered asking the Imperial Physician on board to make a medicine for you, but you don’t deserve my kindness. You don’t deserve to be alive.”

As he turned to leave, Orb refused to stay silent. “You are not to decide my worth!” he rasped in defiance, “You are not to decide my fate! Who do you think you are?” he finished with a cough.

At a remarkable speed, Vermon grabbed Orb by his clothes and threw him over the side of the ship into the sea without much effort on his part given Orb’s lightweight. With no time to react, Orb in clear panic struggled the moment he fell into the water.

Unmoved, Vermon stood watching Orb struggle in the water; he went on moving his arms up and down rapidly and uncontrollably kicking his legs back and forth.

“I am the glorious knight of the Arkosian Empire, Vermon, son of Uthus the great! And I can do to you what I wish! I am the one who decides your worth! I am the one who decides if you live or die!” Vermon declared.

Orb struggled to keep afloat on the surface of the water, but because of the sudden attack, his fatigue, and his fear of water and any form of suffocation, his weary limbs succumbed to the force of the water and his head sank lower and lower.

At that moment, quick uninterrupted thoughts flew in Orb’s head; how his life could end like this. A few days ago, he believed that he planned his life as he wanted and that there would be no one to rival him in strength, intelligence, and control over fate.

He was once an arrogant and ruthless man who committed unforgivable sins, and while he sent his enemies to Hell, he must have drawn the attention of Satan.

Was it karma? He wasn’t sure but the appearance of that Arkosian beast had ruined everything, upset the balance of his life, and scattered his beliefs.

That beast abducted him, enslaved him, and dragged him from one place to another. He took pleasure in torturing him until he exhausted him physically and mentally.

Orb involuntarily took a breath and swallowed large amounts of water. At that moment, under the water, he was certain of his inevitable death and soon lost consciousness.

***

Orb opened his eyes again. It was hard to see with the blurry vision of his left eye, and harder with his hair strewn over it. Yet, he was able to tell that it was daylight, and there were the black silhouettes of men standing over his head. He was drenched and shaking on the warm deck of the ship.

I’m —still alive.

Orb tried to recognize faces and listen to what they were saying, but no matter how hard he tried, he failed. He was tired, scared, and sad.

“Who? Who saved me?” he murmured with a heavy tongue.

Then he dozed off for a few seconds, but that doze was interrupted by his constant cough. His body was burning with fever again, and his nose was bleeding. Yet, no one was there to comfort him or to stop the bleeding. Orb was barely able to feel the comfort of the sunlight, touching his skinny temple like a tender hand for which he yearned for years.

Orb tried to open his eyes and managed to see for a moment a thin line of light with only one eye. He wished he could see the world bathed in the sunlight with both eyes once more, but that was impossible. His eyelids, heavy with fatigue, closed again.

***

 When Orb woke up for the third time, he found himself laying on a bed with a thin sheet and one pillow. He inspected his clothes, a clean white shirt, and long pants of the same color. He also noticed a clean white bandage around his sealed hand and feet.

Although he was relatively comfortable, the frequent tingling in his eyes still hurt him, and a general feeling of weariness and weakness was present.

He scanned the place and was only sure that he was still aboard the ship which was swaying and rolling on water and leaving him to struggle with the relentless urge to vomit.

Orb’s bed was to the left of the cabin wall, on which the sailors hung a glass lamp containing the luminous Dopteira butterflies. He could recognize their graceful movement despite his inability to determine the minute parts of their tiny bodies. He saw these children of the glorious sun as yellow balls of light, hovering inside the glass above his head in gentle tranquility.

To his right was a small table on which rested a basin of water with a cloth rag swimming in it. There was also a bottle of red liquid, of which he could not distinguish the aromatic smell after temporarily losing his sense of smell. However, he could sense that it was another anti-plague medicine.

Tired and in need of more rest, Orb did not attempt to get up. He could hear the roaring sea and the creaking planks around him while the small ship swayed left and right.

The sailors’ excited chatting and cursing reached his ears, and at times he could hear them singing ancient ballads in their own Arkosian dialect which was hard to understand.

Just when Orb closed his eyes to go back to sleep, Vermon stormed in shouting, “Are you not going to get up and leave my bed? You’ve been sleeping here since yesterday!” he stood before Orb. “I hate feeble men!” he snarled.

Vermon kept looking at Orb’s impassive features, searching for a reaction that would thrill him, however, Orb remained silent.

So, I spent a whole day sleeping on this monster’s bed, but why? and where did he spend his night? He was curious.

“Fortunately for you, there was the Imperial physician on board who examined you, dressed your wounds, and prescribed that medicine —You owe me three gold coins, you bastard!”

“Indeed, it must have cost a fortune! However, as the terrible taste of the medicine is still in my mouth, I can testify with a certainty of your appalling ignorance,” Orb mocked with his hands resting on his chest and still, without opening his eyes.

“What?” Vermon hissed.

“The medicine is not worth this price, — because its elements are abundant in nature; — that is, they are not rare herbs of high value, — I can detect turmeric, black pepper, and cinnamon in this—expensive medicine of yours—such components are found in your kitchen— You have been robbed, Vermon, son of Uthus, — congratulations on being a fool!”

Vermon stood there frozen, his face flush while listening to the flow of Orb’s mocking words that few coughs interrupted. Certainly, Orb had difficulty breathing but he succeeded in infuriating Vermon who again, was about to resort to violence.

When he leaned toward Orb intending to punch him in the face, Orb suddenly opened his damaged eyes causing his opponent to freeze for a second. Vermon then, contented himself with yanking Orb’s frail body against his.

“The gold coins were the price I paid to save a worthless, blind, filthy, and ugly slave who received this service from a high-ranking physician. I intend to put you in your place. So never forget your reality. You, arrogant smug.”

This torrent of insults Vermon unleashed was unbearable for Orb who asserted in a feigned indifference, “That’s your opinion, not my realit...” Vermon silenced him with a sudden slap in the face.

“Never talk back to your master! I should cut this tongue of yours out! Would it kill you to be grateful? I saved you for the fourth time. Thank me!”

“....” Orb tightened his lips in fury and said nothing.

"THANK ME!" Vermon impatiently barked.

“I WILL NOT!” Orb snapped while opening his damaged eyes wide. “You attacked me when I was ill, enslaved me when I was born free, dragged me against my will to your country, humiliated me—” Orb was interrupted by his own cough but went on “NEVER. I WILL NEVER THANK YOU!”

“…”

Vermon was stunned by the vicious reaction of Orb but did not say a word. His beautiful, upturned eyes were glaring at the angry slave who was panting by the time he finished shouting.

As a master and according to the Arkosian law, Vermon could kill him at once and with ease. However, he only released Orb from his grip and hurled him onto the bed.

“I regret saving you!” He let out an exasperated sigh, and before leaving the cabin, he finished coldly, “Get ready. We will make landfall tomorrow.”

Orb felt worried about the strange reaction of his oppressor, and the horrors awaiting him in the Arkosian Empire, the home of that villain. He imagined himself suffering endless torments for he had read about their cruelty, ruthlessness, extreme laws, and strange customs which were unlike anything he had known about other monarchies.

Was it too late for him to attempt escape and release himself from captivity, and the humiliation he suffered at the hands of his oppressor? Orb had his own doubts and worries.

He shifted uncomfortably as his heart was beating too fast in turmoil, and that feeling increased when he heard a commotion on deck and someone screaming for help. Shouts, which called for saving someone, were silenced by Vermon’s terrifying threats to kill whoever dares to interfere.

Afterward, Orb heard the captain’s voice giving orders to his men to disperse and return to their work. Orb guessed that mess was Vermon’s doing.

***

That night, Orb woke up again to a conversation taking place behind the cabin door. Two men were talking about Vermon, who after excessive drinking that night, had broken into the captain’s cabin to quarrel with him.

“Haven’t you seen him this afternoon? He threw the Imperial Physician into the sea and watched him drown,” the first complained, “He did it in a heartbeat.”

The other one quickly retorted, “That’s just typical of him!”

“I thought he will change his mind and rescue him as he rescued his slave yesterday.”

“Are you kidding? We all know how unpredictable Vermon is. But it’s not the first time. We’ve seen Vermon’s frightening fits of rage before, haven’t we?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I heard the captain a while ago clearly objecting to Vermon’s excessive violence with the Imperial Palace physician, which might cause a great damage to his reputation as a captain of this ship,” the first one observed.

“As for Vermon, he thought that what he did was not a crime because the physician tricked him by selling him a cheap medicine for a high price. Vermon was frustrated because he was forced to beg the old man, again and again, to hand out the medicine and take care of his new slave!” He added.

For a moment, the sound of their voices fell and rose again. One of them cautiously opened the door and left it ajar. Then, asserted, “You see that? He has been sleeping in his master’s cabin since yesterday.”

“Perhaps he felt guilty,” the other guessed.

“Guilty? Do you think so?”

“It was Vermon who threw him into the water, and Vermon who rescued him.”

Another moment of silence.

They closed the door behind them, and Orb heard their footsteps gradually fade away. He closed his eyes and concluded from that short conversation that despite Vermon’s violent, reckless, and raging nature, he could feel remorse and empathy.

Orb was also astonished, for he never thought that the same brute who threw him into the water, saved him, and that the same brute who was cruel to him before they boarded the ship, gave him his cabin to sleep in and even brought him the Imperial Physician.

Will he remove the seal and grant me my freedom if I managed to convince him? Orb naively thought about that, not knowing that the much dreaded seal of Uthus was unremovable.

***

On the third day, Vermon gave Orb a long cloak with a hood he pulled over Orb’s head. He told him to wear it temporarily until they reach his house. Vermon also reluctantly gave his slave new shoes.

Although the size was too big for him, they sufficed to help him walk down the streets of the capital. Vermon already imagined how difficult it was for his slave to walk barefoot with his torn feet.

While staring at Orb, Vermon insisted that what he did was not generosity, but rather an attempt on his part to protect his privacy. He disliked drawing attention to himself and Orb who would possibly be made into an object of gossip.

Orb who stood in the cabin listening to Vermon’s warnings and threats thought that he intended those useless words to intimidate him.

Vermon wanted to say more but he held back, especially the fact that he did not intend to let Orb ride a horse even after his illness and the condition of his feet, for he did not want to look soft and easygoing in front of his slave.

Vermon also, secretly feared Orb would take advantage of that and plan to escape. Of course, I am not that stupid to go giving him ideas!

***

That afternoon, the ship finally arrived at the main port of Ashtrem, the capital of the Arkosia Empire. When Vermon left his ship, he tied Orb for the second time with ropes around his waist, thus giving no chance for him to escape.

Vermon mounted his horse whilst Orb stood next to him trying to explore the surroundings with difficulty. He could see the wharf of Ashtrem, the only point of contact with the outside world, teeming with all kinds of people; passengers wandering around, noisy sellers displaying their imported goods, and dockworkers unloading ships.

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Orb had heard about the empire’s port a long time ago and learned that the port had two main sides, the first was commercial for goods and raw materials, and the other was reserved for transporting passengers and their personal belongings.

Orb also had heard that although the Empire of Arkosia is isolated and hostile to its neighboring monarchies, many of the workers in the port and the residents of the main city adjacent to the port were known for having good knowledge of different languages ​​and cultures.

He found it astonishing to hear a group of Arkosians communicate with each other so naturally in different languages.

It was hard to believe because he also knew that no outsiders were allowed to enter the empire, and one of the reasons was the land emitting an overwhelming, deadly, and repellent black energy.

Some who attempted to trespass, suffered bad fevers and horrific hallucinations, leading, in rare cases, to insanity, and eventually death.

The empire erected an invisible wall to prevent its black energy from seeping outside its borders. As a result, no living being could enter, except for citizens and slaves bearing the seal of Uthus on their bodies.

All this meant that Orb had the opportunity to enter the land with ease owing to the seal on his hand. Orb remembered his failed attempts to enter the land years ago, Ah, now I could and with ease because of this cursed seal. Feeling his bandaged hand for a moment, he sighed, alas, too late.

Orb walked with difficulty behind the horse and its owner, tripping repeatedly over stones and cracks in his way, but he never complained. Vermon, meanwhile, avoided looking back and maintained a good upright posture that indicated his dominance, and authority.

Shortly after leaving the port, a man riding a horse approached Vermon, and both began chatting on their way to the heart of the capital.

“Oh, Vermon! You have been away for a while! What have you brought to the empire this time?”

“A valuable trophy,” Vermon bragged without looking at Orb.

 “Oh! What makes him different from the last one?” the man asked while looking over his shoulder.

“Rebellious and bad-tempered.”

“Is that a good thing?” he laughed.

“I will not get bored from now on,” Vermon smirked.

The man, looking serious, leaned toward Vermon. “I’m afraid he won’t survive, like the one before him,” he spoke with a lower voice.

Vermon finally looked over his shoulder, smiling. “It will be up to him,” he chuckled. “It would take him a lot of effort to stay alive!”

His companion refrained from commenting on the last part but soon began chatting about his kids for a while before he and Vermon parted.

Meanwhile, Orb remained silent, listening to the conversation of two arrogant beasts, who seemed anything but intelligent. They clearly enjoyed subjecting their slaves to humiliation and appalling forms of brutality.

Despite the blurry vision in Orb’s left eye, he could discern the blue uniform of his captor, his long black shoes, his great build, his waist-length thick braids, and the shiny silver ornaments attached to them.

He thought that such an appearance fitted Vermon’s savage nature, and he felt a tinge of despair due to his inability to run away from him.

“I thought—you didn’t want to draw attention to you—bringing a new slave into—your land,” Orb boldly mocked him, then released a cough, “What? —You couldn’t contain your childish—excitement?”

Vermon was in a good mood and listened patiently to Orb’s wheezing and breathlessness.

“Guess, no. I couldn’t!” Vermon finally giggled.

Orb was irritated by the tightness he felt in his chest, his inability to fully express himself, and the playful tone of his enemy but in the end, said nothing.

***

By the time they reached the city, it bothered Orb that people were bumping into him, and some were doing it on purpose to feel his body or see his face or simply knock him to fall to the ground.

It seemed to Orb, that it was normal to treat him as if he was part of the road they were walking, and it provided them with the opportunity to hurt him and go unpunished.

Of course, it was obvious that he was an imported slave, tied by a rope, and dragged across the city behind a powerful eminent master.

Orb starting to get thirsty, resisted the urge to tell his captor to stop and get some rest after leaving the port and walking for too long. Orb also was worried by the very thought of walking beside the horse to look for a water fountain, as he did not know how his captor would react if he told him.

When Orb constantly looked both ways, Vermon finally noticed. “What’s wrong with you? What are you looking for?” he questioned.

“....”

Orb remained silent. His disregard for Vermon enraged him, as he never had an ill-mannered slave who would ignore his questions.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you!”

Orb again feigned indifference for some time, and Vermon chose to put up with his slave’s insolence for the time being until they came to the city square.

The place was spacious and open, and on its sides were so many black carriages with golden edges of different sizes to take up passengers. There were bakery shops, meat markets, clothes stores, and a huge water fountain in the center. Orb’s attention was drawn to that magnificent stone fountain.

Suddenly, Orb cut the rope connecting him to Vermon with a blade he had found in Vermon’s bag which was hanging on the horse’s side. Then, he turned and hastily walked off in the opposite direction until he reached the fountain.

Orb forgot about the possible violence Vermon would subject him to as soon as he stood facing the fountain. He was mesmerized by the details he could discern; the pieces of blue-tinted glass at its edges, the glowing water flowing from the head of a large beast painted in turquoise and the shards of shiny glass that decorated its beak to reflect the glorious sunlight.

Vermon stopped his horse and watched Orb with a face twisted in silent rage. Unaware of Orb’s eyes condition three days ago, Vermon initially thought that Orb needed the cane to support himself as he was sick and tired.

When he found out that both eyes of his slave were damaged, he mistakenly believed that the cane was to help him walk around.

Yet, Vermon could see right now that his supposedly blind slave was walking without difficulty through the square, and save for his tripping over a stone twice, he found his way to the fountain without the help of a cane.

Vermon became confused and thought he should ask Orb about his eyes and the use of the old cane he had three days ago when he found him in Awa Temple.

I shouldn't dwell on the past but what to do? I’m curious. He smirked, that cunning bastard!

The late discovery of Orb’s little transgression made Vermon determined to keep an eye out for further acts. He neither tried to take back the stolen blade nor intervened right away.

When he decided to wait and observe Orb, just then, he saw three familiar figures heading for the stone fountain.

“Talk about bad timing —damn!” he muttered in displeasure.

***

Vermon let out a deep sigh as he watched Orb hide the blade under his cloak, then stooping to wash his face with only his right hand. He seemed to enjoy himself as he placed his palm under the stream of water flowing from the mouth of the statue for some time.

Unfortunately for Orb, just when he began drinking, an arm shoved him roughly aside, causing him to stumble and fall on his back. Believing the assailant was Vermon, Orb quickly got up and turned to strike back; however, he then saw three silhouettes standing next to each other as if they were one massive body of a three-headed dragon.

“It seems that you do not know the laws of the city,” someone exclaimed in disgust, “don’t you know that slaves are prohibited from drinking from this fountain?”

Unaware of the eyes which were fixed on his tightly wrapped left hand, Orb wondered how they were able to know that he was a slave. His body was perfectly wrapped with the cloak and the seal on his hand was covered in bandages. However, the answer came to him so quickly as if they knew what he was thinking.

“The burning still smells fresh. Oh, look! He’s blind!” Another one sneered.

Orb was taken completely by surprise when one of them pulled off his cloak and hit him on the arm with a cane. “Kneel down, you blind slave! Kneel and apologize at once!” the assailant ordered.

The blow was strong and unforeseen, which startled Orb and angered him. He felt he had had enough. For days he had been subjected to perpetual attacks and violence, first from his captor, Vermon, and now from these strangers.

Hence, Orb extended his wet hand to hold the cane when it fell on his arm for the second time amid the astonishment of the three young men, who regarded him with strong and obvious hostility because his reaction as a slave was outright insolence and a form of rebellion against them, the nobles of Arkosia.

The owner of the cane tried to pull it with all his strength, and Orb held it with his hand in a savage stubbornness until he pulled his enemy toward him making him stumble and fall on one knee.

The second young man pounced on Orb with a quick but clumsy punch, and the latter ducked down with his knees and shouldered to dodge it. As the third one helped his friend fight against Orb, he pounced on him with a spear. Yet, Orb noticed the brightness of its blade and managed to avoid it at the last moment after taking a step back.

Before the three resumed their attack together on Orb, who stood facing them with his chest rising and falling in great tension, he was startled by a sudden blow from behind.

It was a painful first lash from a whip that landed on his back and made him fall to his knees. At that moment, he heard Vermon’s angry voice shaking the place.

“You insolent worthless slave! How dare you rebel in my presence?”

Vermon’s whip, slashed across Orb’s back repeatedly and ruthlessly. The three assailants were forced to stay where they are. Orb, on the other hand, found himself unable to move or speak, he felt as if his body and tongue are literally tied.

What’s happening to me? Why can’t I move my body? Orb remained in his kneeling position unable to look back. Could it be that monster? Does he possess the power to control me? He bitterly guessed.

With tears in his eyes, Orb struggled to suppress the low prolonged sounds of pain he could utter at that moment.

“Is he your slave?” One of the three assailants questioned.

Vermon’s angry voice answered, “Regrettably, yes!”

Orb’s body continued to receive Vermon’s brutal lashing until some passers-by gathered in the place taking delight in seeing the torment of Orb. Some of them were drinking from bottles, and others while crossing their arms, were sniggering at his emaciated body trembling with every lash.

“Sell him to me, I want him!” Demanded the owner of the cane, holding it close to his waist, ready for a new round of attack. All the while, he fixed his eyes on Orb in bitter hatred, but Vermon refused.

“The law cannot be broken. Furthermore, he is my new toy, and I recently got him while traveling abroad,” Vermon responded as he continued to lash Orb who, finally released, collapsed in terrible agony, and was about to pass out.

“I want to make him suffer, for no slave has ever rebelled against his masters as he has done.”

“I AM his master, and taming him is MY responsibility! I’m afraid I will turn down your request, son of Syrphadous!” Vermon stated, eyes blazing with fervor.

“I’m warning you to not refuse me since you know who I am,” Ayege, son of Syrphadous, argued.

“And I’m warning you to not lay your hand on the property of the empire’s glorious Knight! Your foolish attempt means provoking me, the Crown Prince, and the emperor!”

Vermon’s last words forced the three young men to return their ready-to-fight hands to their positions in reverence after mentioning the emperor and his son. Vermon’s words were also the reason for many spectators to lose the desire to watch, so they immediately left the place.

Vermon lashed Orb’s back for the fifteenth time, adding, “There is nothing remarkable about this blind slave.  He has contracted an illness that weakened his lungs, and has not even recovered,” Vermon’s voice grew fierce, “And this punishment is for his insolence.”

Vermon finally stopped lashing Orb. He then kicked him and ordered him to stand up. Orb, who struggled to muffle his grunts, could barely get up on his feet. They were trembling from what he tasted and endured until he fell to the ground once more.

Orb tried to stand again but failed. He continued to lie on the ground in weariness. Therefore, Vermon pulled him by his blood-stained shirt without looking at him, leading him away from the place until he came to where his horse was on the other side of the road.

He wrapped Orb’s bloody waist with a new rope that was hanging on the back of his horse. Orb involuntarily let out a whimper as the rope hurt him, but Vermon ordered him to stand despite the severity of his pain.

“All of this for a drink of water! Why didn’t you ask for my canteen?”

Vermon mounted his horse and led Orb across the road without looking at him. Looking for some support as he walked, Orb was trying repeatedly to cling to the edge of the horse’s saddle. However, amid his fatigue and preoccupation with suppressing his moans, his hand was missing the place, occasionally touching one side of the horse, and other times, Vermon’s leg. When the latter felt it, he pretended not to notice.

 “I saved you—for the fifth time? the sixth time? How many times have I saved you? Thank me!” Vermon complained.

“....”

“Thank me, you bastard!”

“I WILL NOT.”

Orb finally shouted in anger, before he returned to closing his lips tight so as not to let any moan come out that would make his enemy gloat. Orb obstinately walked a few steps ahead of his master instantly enraging him.

Vermon suddenly pulled Orb back, forcing him to drop to the ground in the middle of the road. The two of them stopped moving and kept silent for a few moments.

“You blind, useless slave! I saved your life! Those three were the sons of the Imperial Advisors. They are men of authority and power. We both got avoided being in real trouble because— in truth,” Vermon squinted his eyes, looking at Orb, then muttered, “you have nothing to do with the emperor nor the Crown Prince! I lied and had to beat you to protect you from their brutality. Thank me!”

Orb remained silent all those moments and indifferent to the intentions of his tormentor. He was desperately battling the pain of his blood-stained back and of walking on his sore feet for a long time.

What he battled the most was the tears, which, gathered in his eyes, he did not want his tormentor to see. Thus, he stood up, keeping his flaming back straight and sustaining what has left of his wounded pride without saying anything.

Vermon frowned at Orb’s silence and could not understand why Orb did not wish to admit his mistake or at least thank him.

Not wanting more attention from the passers-by, Vermon decided to discipline Orb when they get back to his house, so he continued his course without harassing him again.

***

Thank you very much, dear friends, for reading this chapter.

Notes

Dopteira (Insects of light). [Pronunciation Guide: Dop-tee-year-ah]

Ashtrem (The Capital of Arkosia). [Pronunciation Guide: Ash-trim]

Ayege. [Pronunciation Guide: Aa-yee-j]

Syrphadous. [Pronunciation Guide: Serfa-dos]

 

An illustration of Vermon & Orb:

Illustrator: https://www.instagram.com/artofhuan/

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