About ten minutes had passed. As Toranto opened his eyes, his vision slowly restored itself. He was lying on his back, staring at the same gray sky he'd become accustomed to. But he quickly realized he wasn't stationary; the trees were moving past him, even though he wasn't walking. Suddenly, the memories flooded back.
Panic began to set in as he realized what was happening. He was found, shot down, and captured by the militia. He tried to move his body, only to discover that his limbs were restrained. His hands were cuffed and resting on his stomach. His legs, however, were tied together with rope. Looking ahead of him, he saw the soldiers walking forward, with one of them dragging his body by the rope holding his legs together. But before the panic could set in, he quickly remembered the condition his legs were in before losing consciousness.
He immediately tensed up, expecting them to be unusable, yet they felt completely normal. The pain he felt before blacking out was real; he was sure of it, and the blood was still on his pants as evidence. Confused and afraid, he dared not struggle or try to fight yet. He looked at the rifles they carried, feeling anger at the fact that they were the reasons he couldn't fight back. If only they weren't carrying those guns, I know I could…
Before he could finish his thought, the soldiers stopped walking. "He's awake. Get him up." The soldier at the head of the group, presumably the squad's leader, spoke to the one lugging Toranto's body. Toranto looked up at the soldier dragging him, still too confused and afraid to make any sudden movements. The soldier turned around to face Toranto, still holding onto the ropes binding his legs. What's happening??
Suddenly, the soldier dropped the ropes, causing Toranto's lower body to fall onto the cold ground. The sudden change in temperature from the snow shocked his nerves for a moment before Toranto quickly looked back up at the soldier to figure out his next move. The soldier bent down and took out a pocketknife. Toranto's eyes widened as he tried to pull his body away from being cut. In response, the soldier grabbed Toranto's legs and held them in place while cutting the ropes holding them together, allowing Toranto to move his lower body again.
"Get up. Now." The soldier issued the command, now holding his gun to Toranto's head as a warning. Toranto's eyes widened again, and he immediately stood up following the soldier's command. He braced himself for an immense amount of pain to shoot throughout his body, but nothing happened. This time, he was sure, the pain was completely gone.
He looked down at his legs for a moment, wondering why the pain had dissipated. I know they shot me; I felt it, I couldn't even stand. So, how am I…did they heal me? He concluded that his injuries had healed from a soul-based healing charm. There's no other way. One of them healed me. But why would they…?
"Walk. Now." The same soldier who ordered him to stand was now ordering him to walk, this time placing the end of the rifle on his back. Toranto glanced behind him, frozen for a split second at the thought of being shot in the spine and potentially paralyzed or killed. But he also felt anger at himself for letting the soldier get behind him without noticing. That was stupid. I need to pay better attention.
He cautiously stepped forward, trying to keep calm by closing his eyes and controlling his breathing. This time, he chose to focus on the feeling of the snow beneath his feet. The comfort it brought was numbing and temporary, but it was something. Now walking alongside the other soldiers, he made sure not to make any sudden movements. As they continued, he tried to think of a way to escape.
I just need to make some kind of smoke screen. They'll have no idea where to aim, and I can easily outrun them. But, how to make that happen? Given his now uninjured legs, he was confident he could escape, given the opportunity. He momentarily opened his eyes to see if any of the soldiers were paying him close attention. Strangely, they were not. They're not even looking at me, and all their guns are down. He looked down at his feet, feeling the cold snow between his toes once again. Snow…
Maintaining his pace, he closed his eyes and attempted to focus the flow of energy within his body to perform a basic wind charm to kick up a massive amount of snow around them. He could feel small currents of wind beginning to form around his legs. It's working. He kept his mind focused on the charm, the sensation of energy moving within his body, and felt the push from his soul to escape. Everything was going according to his plan until…
…
Nothing happened.
Toranto opened his eyes, completely dumbfounded. He hadn't taken his mind off the charm, and he knew this was something his soul yearned for. But the energy he felt moving within himself suddenly slowed to a stop. He glanced to his sides to confirm that the soldiers didn't notice what he was trying to do. What?? How???
Momentary panic began to form in Toranto's mind, fearing that he'd lose any chance to escape once they reached wherever they were taking him. He quickly regained his composure, closed his eyes, and tried again to perform the charm. But again, nothing happened. Wait, is this…?
A familiar feeling washed over him, something he hadn't considered the militia would be using until now. They're putting up a charm-blocking field; no wonder mine aren't following through. That must be what the green indicator on these cuffs is. I can't escape. He was now certain that escape was impossible; he kept his head facing down, giving up any hope he had of escaping with his life.
I need to learn what they have.
As they walked, the soldiers remained quiet. Toranto used this opportunity to take note of anything important the soldiers carried that he could steal if the need arose. Body armor, assault rifle, small pistol, low-end grenades, ammunition, hunting knives, machete, radio, compass, and probably basic survival supplies. Having some idea of where they were taking him, he thought it best to know as much as possible about his captors. Since he was in no position to fight, observation was the best strategy for now.
…
Another ten minutes passed, and the soldiers were silent the entire walk. All the while, Toranto's body finally began to relax, not from peace, but a sad acceptance of his supposed fate. But the unease in his mind was unimaginable after constantly reliving the pain of being shot in both legs; he didn't dare to try anything now.
At least they don't have to go through this…
Trying not to let the overbearing helplessness of the situation grind away his soul, he thought of his family. It brought him happiness knowing that they had been spared this fate. I kinda wish they were here to help me through this. But maybe that's selfish. Then again, even after it was clear we might lose our home, they never left my side. I wish I had that again.
"Get in. Now."
The soldier's words snapped Toranto out of his trance. With no more time to think, they had arrived at the intended destination. It was a large truck in the middle of the forest guarded by two additional soldiers, with a large holding bay attached behind it for transporting livestock. Toranto stared at the truck for a moment and glanced back at the soldier, now beginning to raise his gun. Toranto quickly realized that they wanted him to get into the holding bay of the truck. I may have been right, unfortunately.
Toranto hesitantly stepped up into the holding bay until he was rendered motionless by the sight in front of him. His mind drew a complete blank, every instinct screaming to flee, as his eyes widened at the scene. His heart sank, his breathing shortened, and his legs completely stiffened, fully realizing what was happening. The truck was not carrying livestock; it was holding people.
…
His mind and body froze at the sight. His soul was screaming at him to try to run away as fast as possible. He couldn't even find the will to move his body forward, instinctively taking a step back. The feeling of a gun pressed against his back stopped him once again. Without words, the soldier reminded him that he had no choice. He took a deep breath and stepped onto the back of the truck, sitting down next to the others.
Lord, please protect me…
One of the soldiers followed him onto the bay and connected his handcuffs to the bay. He quickly noticed that this was the same for everyone else; they truly had no means of escape without risking their lives. Two of the soldiers gathered inside the truck and started the engine, while the other five stayed behind.
His ears perked up as the engine started, and the vehicle began moving. He felt himself thrown to the side from the sudden change in momentum. Looking down at his hands, he tried to break free from the restraints with the last bit of will he had left. But it was of no use. All of the cuffs together are making a much stronger field than before; I can't gather any energy. Out of sheer desperation, he tried to break through the cuffs again, purely with his strength. Pulling his hands in every direction, resulting in the metal breaking through his skin. He felt the cuffs beginning to give, but knew it would likely come at the cost of breaking his wrists. Looking down at the fresh blood covering his hands, he realized there was nothing more he could do. His hands slumped into his lap, giving up all resistance.
Holding back the tears forming in his eyes, his body slumped down as the resolve to escape quickly left his soul. Having no idea what to do, and no desire to do anything else, he stared motionless at the floor of the holding bay. He looked out at the snow flying past the vehicle, hoping its beauty would distract his mind. But it brought him no peace.
What do I do now? I don't have my supplies. I can't escape. They're going to take me somewhere I'll either be imprisoned, executed, or worked to death. I don't want to do this anymore. Maybe I should just…
…
No. They wanted me to live; I shouldn't think those things. I should want to live.
…
But I don't, not like this. Why am I going through this? What's the point of all this? And why do I have to do it alone?
He opened his eyes, feeling as though his soul snapped his mind out of its trance. He remembered he technically wasn't alone right now; others were sitting right next to him. No longer in his head, he glanced over at the other people captured alongside him. For the first time, he studied their faces.
Four people. Most of them are Denoms, only one demi-human.
He noticed that three of them were members of the Denom species. They all bore the trademark gray skin, distinct ear shape, and horns protruding from their foreheads. He wondered why this was the case, but put the thought aside for now. The last one was a demi-human; his ears and tail made it obvious. The entire time, no one made a sound or even looked up. Right now, Toranto was the only one looking up.
The Denom woman to his right appeared to be around the same age as him, having black shoulder-length hair and green eyes. She was holding the hand of a much older man sitting next to her. They look so similar; that must be her father. I wonder if she lost her mother in all this, too. The despair on her face couldn't be more obvious. She looked like she'd never known what it meant to be happy. In that moment, Toranto started to have a small epiphany.
It's not just me.
The look from this woman was all it took for him to realize that he wasn't the only one suffering. He looked back down at the floor, not in sorrow, but out of guilt. It was undeniable that he had suffered greatly to this point, but right now, things felt a little different. To be in the presence of others sharing a similar fate and only focusing on himself, it almost felt to him like he was denying their suffering.
I didn't even realize until now. I bet she's been feeling this for a while now, just like me.
Not just her, all of them. But what could I do about it?
His thoughts went to a place he never expected, not a cure, but a remedy. Searching for something to ease the pain for everyone in that holding bay, including himself. Toranto wanted to do something to help them feel better, something to help himself feel better, and something to help them feel like they weren't alone in this.
But he didn't know what to do. He sat there for a moment, feeling his confidence starting to slip away. He quickly thought back to his grandfather, his role model—the one in his life who always knew what to say to him when things seemed impossible. A particular piece of advice entered his mind, which would guide his actions from this moment onward.
"You do what you can."
Reminiscing about the moment his grandfather told him this, it put a smile on his face for the first time in weeks. He looked back over to the woman, sat up straight, and tried to calm his nerves as much as possible. In that moment, he couldn't fight, he couldn't run, and he could no longer grieve. So, the only thing he thought to do was talk.
"Hello, what's your name?"