"Hey, you slackers! Pick up the pace!" The officer barked his orders from above. "We're two days behind schedule. If you don't want to see your pay docked, I suggest you get your asses moving—now!"
I froze, my hand tightened around the handle of my pickaxe. Sweat stung my eyes. "Is he kidding me?" I grunted toward Elias. My companion turned pale beneath the limestone dust. He darted a nervous glance at the officer, who was watching us from his comfortable perch.
"Shut it, Gahst!" he hissed urgently. "You're going to get us in trouble... You've got enough problems as a 'two-horn.' Don't make them notice you. Sometimes I wonder if you even want to survive." "Survival isn't just about keeping your mouth shut, Elias. It's about keeping your honor."
I muttered the words without looking at him, swinging my pickaxe again. But the pleading look in my friend's eyes forced me to strike the rock harder than necessary.
The bell finally tolled, releasing a cloud of dust and a sea of faces frozen in exhaustion. Noon. My stomach hurt more than my arms. I sat on a stone block, staring at the meager serving of gray mush I'd just been handed. Elias sat beside me, looking every bit as spent as I felt.
"I just want to sleep. Please... this job is going to be the death of me," I said, my gaze drifting into the void. The food went into our mouths, but if I had to compare, it felt more like eating stone. It's always there, it's never good. Honestly, I think I'd have a better chance of not getting sick if I just ate actual gravel.
"Sorry to ruin the dream, Gahst, but aren't you supposed to look after your father?" he asked, visibly awkward. "I know, I know... but it's getting... complicated." "Hey, look. Isn't that Bork? The one who rubs shoulders with the mob? What's he doing with that four-horn?" "I don't know, but I want to find out." "Stay put, Gahst. You're looking for trouble," Elias whispered, grabbing my arm. "Personally, I'm just an Axol..."
He was right. He was just an ordinary Axol; his slender frame, barely six feet tall, was no match for anyone. Under the harsh light, his translucent skin shifted from white to a dusty pink, betraying his exhaustion. His six feathery, scarlet appendages—which served as his hair—hung limp around his flattened skull. He stared at me with large, lidless black eyes, their depth fixed, while his webbed fingers clenched in anxiety.
"...and I have no desire to tangle with Trosks," he added in a breath.
I followed his gaze toward the massive creature accompanying Bork. It was a Trosk a mountain of muscle and moss-green scales. Its protruding shell was encrusted with stones that looked like olivine. Its arms were colossal, clawed hands resting heavily on the ground. Its head, sunken into its shoulders, revealed a sharp turtle-like beak and pale yellow eyes that glowed beneath thick brow ridges.
"I'm not going to tangle with him," I whispered, setting down my bowl. "I'm just going to see what they're plotting."
Taking advantage of the lunch break, I slipped away with the stealth of a shadow, ducking under the window of the stone building to eavesdrop. As I pressed my ear to the wall, a raspy voice rose:
"Ariss... Well, I hope you've considered our proposal?" "Yes... yes, fine," the officer replied, his voice trembling. "But next time, send someone else. You guys can be spotted from a mile away." "Don't you know the saying, Ariss? 'Hide in the light.'" "I don't need anyone suspecting me!" the officer snapped. "What am I supposed to say if someone finds out I'm changing the wall's blueprints to give you an entry point?"
An entry point in the wall? I was about to back away when a massive shadow fell over me. The sun vanished, replaced by a silhouette made of rock and hatred. A clawed hand closed around my throat, hoisting me off the ground. The Trosk's beak was inches from my face.
"We've got a rat, Ariss," the creature growled. The window swung open to reveal a deathly pale Ariss and Bork, who wore a cruel smirk. "Gahst..." Ariss murmured. "You always did have too big a mouth." "What do we do with him?" Bork asked. "Handle it. Make sure he doesn't talk. But don't kill him we don't need the attention."
THUD! Bork's first blow was the last one I consciously felt. My ribs cracked. The world blurred; I heard Elias scream, and then, darkness.
Pain was the first thing to return. I painfully opened my eyes in a makeshift shelter that smelled of grass and damp earth. "Easy, kid. You're lucky to be in one piece." A silhouette approached. The stranger didn't seem to be one of theirs. I struggled to sit up. "Thank you... I don't know how to thank you... what's your name?" I managed to squeeze out. "Call me Rame Oh. You can thank me, Gahst," the man in the shadows replied with a twisted smile. "My services aren't free. I know you have no money, but I prefer to deal in favors. One day, I'll come to see you, and you'll have to hold up your end."
He held out a contract that seemed to appear out of thin air. "Go on, sign. It's to ensure you play your part." I signed with suspicion. I had no choice; he wouldn't let me out of here alive otherwise. "Perfect. Now, go home." "Home... my... my father..." I croaked, my throat on fire.
It was pitch black when I left Rame's shelter. I ran as fast as I could toward our cabin—or at least as fast as a broken man could run. Every jolt wrung a groan from my lips, but adrenaline muffled the agony in my ribs.
In the distance, no lights were visible. Nothing but the deathly silence of the slums. Tears fell, carving clear tracks through the grime on my purple skin. I burst through the door and, with what little voice I had left, I whispered: "Dad?"
The tears kept flowing. I moved through the darkness of the tiny cabin that was our only refuge, our home. I finally reached the foot of the room's only bed.
And there, the tears stopped. They dried instantly on my cheeks, scorched by horror. In their place, a muffled cry of rage—a silent explosion that only I could hear—tore through my chest. There in the shadows, I saw my father's decaying body. The stench of decomposition, which I hadn't noticed upon entering because of my short breath, hit me full force. He hadn't been buried. He had been left there, alone, like trash.
The void gave way to pure hatred, a black substance that began to boil in my veins, rising to the tips of my horns. I stood there, petrified before the bed. The scent of death surrounded me, more suffocating than the dust of the mine. An icy chill started in my gut and raced up my spine, but it wasn't fear. It was an unbearable pressure seeking a way out.
Suddenly, an excruciating pain pulsed at the base of my obsidian horns. It wasn't the shock of Bork's blows anymore; it was a liquid heat, bubbling inside the bone.
I felt an invisible force within me. Instinctive. "They're going to burn," I whispered.