The Towering walls of the Valoy slave encampment loomed ominously against the morning sky, casting long shadows against the dirt floor.
The iron gate creaked open revealing a uniformed line of marching soldiers their armor glistening under the light of the shimmering sun. They marched in formation, they're boots echoing against the flat of the dirt ground while the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant whimper of slaves
In the middle of the formation enslaved women and shuffled forward, their chains clonking softly as they moved.
Among them was Alys and Aryn, Aryn held his head high even as he walked with matted black hair and tattered clothes a look of defiance present on his face as he glanced at the soldiers. Aryn was the opposite she walked with uncertain steps and glanced around in fear.
As the group entered the encampment, a burly soldier with a scarred face and a sneer that seemed almost permanent stepped forward.
"Get moving wench" he barked at Alys shoving her roughly with the flat of his sword she stumbled but quickly regained her footing her gaze lowered even further.
"Hey, watch how you treat my sister" Aryn's face ran red with rage at the sight of one of these filthy guards mistreating his sister. The soldiers irritation flared at the sight of his resistance.
"What's this? a slave thinks he can stand tall?" he stepped closer, raising his hand. With a swift motion, he struck Aryn across the face, the sound of skin echoing in the silence that followed
Aly's cried out, the scene of her brother being assaulted too much for her to handle
"Keep your eyes on the ground, boy," he growled, advancing again
"Whatever life you led before, consider it over, you're nothing but property now".
Another soldier, less cruel but complicit, watched with a frown, the weight of his own morality pressing down on him, but he said nothing.
Aryn, shaking with rage and humiliation forced himself to meet the soldier's gaze
"I am not yours to break," he spat, a flame of defiance smoldering within him, even as he tasted the blood from his split lip.
The soldier's eyes narrowed, and he moved to hit the boy again, but the movement was interrupted as the as the captain of the guard, a sharp-eyed man with a reputation for maintaining order, strode forward.
"Enough! he commanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
The scarred soldier hesitated, frustration boiling beneath the surface, but he stepped back his hands clenching into fists.
The captain turned to Alys and Aryn his expression unreadable.
"Keep moving," he ordered, and with a nod the line of slaves continued forward the harrowing whispers of their fate hanging heavily in the air.
As Aryn and his sister trudged on the weight of the chains on their ankles felt even heavier than before but within the spirit of rebellion refused to die. He would find a way for them to escape this place.
No matter the cost.