A towering relic of gloom and human suffering whisks across the treacherous open seas, roaming, looking for its next victims to devour. Its vast wooden hull, scarred by the memory of countless voyages across oceans, groans helplessly under the weight of its grim history. Deep cracks ran through the grain of its masts that towered overhead, holding tattered wind-worn sails that once were a great sight to behold. The deck, long and wide, lined with thick rusted iron chains, fragments of tattered clothing, and old wooden barricades that all stood as reminders of what had predated Lucian's existence.
Two whole weeks had passed while Lucian was stuck in unswerving limbo. His once brass-colored skin is now pale; his muscles an abysmal fraction of what they once were, making him almost unrecognizable to his former self. Be it a curse or a blessing, his physical injuries had all been miraculously healed as if it had never happened.
Lucian had become aware of his fast healing, after having to fight off harpies, drakes, and other savage and mythical beasts that reigned in the Dusk Wood Forest. Each new encounter had been more deadly and more life-threatening than the last. But after every encounter, a battered, wounded, and bloody Lucian would magically be completely healed in a matter of days; however, the scars of his battles would still remain, a terrible reminder of what could have been had he not been victorious.
And although this was a new phenomenon, it was the very least of his concerns.
Lucian awoke to find himself caged in with other slaves who were either injured or unwell. A thick suffocating stench of sickness clung to the damp air like clothes on wet skin. It was a rancid mix of sweat, vomit, and rotting flesh, made worse by the stagnant breeze seeping through the cracks of the hull.
Slaves were crammed like sardines in rows of cages in the ship's dim lit, cargo hold; their iron bars plastered with rust and condensation. Many with pale bodies huddled together shivering involuntarily, while others lay sprawled on the damp wooden floors where they had collapsed from the rigors of their inhumane tiresome travel.
For a brief moment as the boat swayed, a brief flicker of light appeared, and Lucian caught a glimpse of hollowed faces and sunken eyes that spoke volumes of misery. His breath caught in his throat as to the point of suffocation, as he gazed at the wickedness of mankind to one another. The flicker was gone in an instant, however, what he beheld was now permanently etched in his mind.
'Death would be a welcome mercy,' he thought with grave sadness in his eyes.
The sound of heavy boots stomped across the deck above, getting more distant with every step, but as though the owner had a sudden change of mind, the stomps became loud again as it drew nigh. The old wooden door of the cargo hold creaked loudly as it was violently flung open and a shadowy figure entered with a dim lantern in hand.
"That one! Put him with the others" a familiar voice barked.
Two other shadowy figures entered behind the first.
"Hands outside of your cage now! And if you know what's good for you, you won't resist."
Lucian didn't put up a fight. "Anywhere else on this ship would be better than this," he thought.
(Does this man not learn that his optimism brings disaster? Well, maybe he's a sucker for punishment.LOL)
Cold heavy shackles with what felt like sharp spikes within were clasped angrily on his wrists, the cage then opened and he was dragged out violently. One person held the chain in front and the other behind Lucian with what sounded like a sword being unsheathed, just in case Lucian got any bright ideas.(( To be honest, he had a few. Just saying.)
The rusty old chains rattled with every step as Lucian trudged forward, bare feet scraping against the cold wooden floor of the old ship. The dim corridor slowly gave way to a more illuminated chamber, with a dull yellow light spilling through its arched doorway like a cruel invitation. Faint eerie sounds began to hit Lucian's ear, and as the light grew brighter, so did the sounds- groans, sharp gasps, muffled cries of pain." What the hell!"Lucian thought as a quick feeling of concern engulfed him.
Lucian froze. His pulse quickened as every fiber of his being rejected, taking another step. The taskmaster in front tugged dangerously at the chains yet was unable to move Lucian an inch.
"Move asshole!" growled the creep from behind, jabbing the handle of the cold steel sword annoyingly into Lucian's back.
Lucian's brows raised and pulled together angrily.
'How the hell do I keep ending up in these shitty situations? uncertain horrors in front and a sharp blade behind.Shit! I'm screwed either way.'
Swallowing hard, he stepped forward. The light grew even stronger now, and so did the sounds, and with each footfall, the anticipation and dread wrapped tighter around him than any chain ever could.
Countless Slaves both men and women fastened in endless rows, shoulder to shoulder, their backs hunched, their skin torn raw from the cruel lashes of their ruthless overseers. Bodies trembling uncontrollably from exhaustion and hunger, while others barely moved at all, their gaze fixed on nothing, lost in silence, the endless suffering had taken their mind and lost them at sea.
Lucian felt the blood in his veins go freezing cold as if the gates of Helheim burst wide open.
A sudden thud thundered loudly through the chamber. Lucian turned his head sharply, to see a slumped figure yanked from a bench, shackles undone, and his lifeless body dragged like that of a dead animal across the filthy floor with an almost sinister thud as the dead man's head repeatedly struck the wooden floor.
The overseer creep with the ends of the chain whom Lucian could clearly see now, was an average-built rough-looking man with countless scars across his face. He dragged Lucian to the now vacant seat on the bench, shoved him carelessly onto the plank of wood, placed the old worn grimy oar that had been used by the deceased slave in his hand, and then fastened the old shackles infested with rotted flesh onto his bare ankles. Lucian cringed as the rotted fleshed mingled with his skin. He struggled not to hurl.
The taskmaster's whip then cracked like thunder, and a voice rough and merciless bellowed a stern command.
"Row you filthy dogs, row!" The echo of his voice seemed to command the very ocean.
Every chain suddenly began to rattle. Lucian clenched his teeth tightly and tried to heave in unison with the other slaves, but a sharp piercing pain shot through his muscles as he strained to follow.
2 weeks in a cage, little to no exercise; living on nothing but air pies and crystal punch will do that to you. Lucian knew he had to adapt quickly in order to avoid the merciless abuse of the goons in charge. At least his body would regain its strength through the rigorous exercise of rowing day and night. He had to make this work for him; no excuses; just pushing until something happened.
Countless days had passed and a weary Lucian kept his head down and rowed hoping to avoid the gaze of Scarface who marched tirelessly throughout the cabin, barking orders and whipping anyone who fell behind. The galley groaned as angry waves collided with the ship. With every turn each stroke felt like dragging a mountain through the sea. His palms were now raw from the blisters that had formed and burst from the thick wooden oar, yet he dared not stop, he dared not complain for fear of a merciless whipping. With the memory of the slave whose place he now held still very fresh in his mind, Lucian found new strength and determination.
'These damn monsters, how are they still rowing relentlessly for so many days now?'
He began cursing his situation and his body for failing him in his greatest time of need. As hard as he was trying, his body could only take so much.
The strain finally got to him as he faltered, just half a beat out of the rhythm. The oar in front and behind shifted forward in unison, as his lagging pull threw the line off rhythm.
The unwanted sound of boots stomped swiftly down the narrow aisle toward the rowers. A crude shadow loomed over. Lucian then heard a serpent-like hiss just before intense pain exploded across his back once, twice, three times, then a fourth for good measure. With each strike, his skin flayed open raw, every nerve screaming in protest. Even then with blood and sweat mixing and running like lava, a sorrowful Lucian uttered not a sound in defiance.
"Row, you damn dog!" scarface snarled in a low and vicious voice.
The shadow overhead then disappeared and Lucian could hear the sound of boots getting more distant in the cabin.
"You need to stop fightin' it." a low hoarse voice uttered.
Lucian glanced to his right at another slave beside him, as if he felt his eyes on him the man turned his head and gave Lucian a weary glance but said nothing.
'Then I guess it's not him.'
He then glanced to the left. Across the aisle, a female slave, her back beneath her tattered rags riddled with scars coughs weakly before resuming her desperate struggle against the weight of the oar.
'It wasn't her either. Shit am I now hearing things?' " Well, I did just take a hell of a whipping".
"Clear your mind, forget the chains, forget where you are, forget your pain and exhaustion. Stop acting on your own, we're all in this together, each helping to carry the other's burden, so listen to the others and not the taskmaster. Now feel the vibrations in the oar, how the boat glides over the waves matching the rhythm." the voice whispered from behind.
Lucian glanced over his shoulder. A young man, with short ginger hair, sat chained behind him.
'Who the hell is this now?'
"Get going before the taskmaster returns."
Lucian closed his eyes, remembering the stillness of the white room. The barks of the taskmaster slowly vanished as he listened to the slap of the oars, the grunt of the slaves, the groan of the sea. His heart slowed. His breath deepens.
And then…slowly he moved.
His oar slid forward with the others, dipped, and pulled. A steady rhythm. The relentless waves gave reprieve. And for the first time, for better or for worse, Lucian felt he was a part of it. A part of them, truly a slave.
(well shit this is unexpected; never saw this coming)