Moonless - The Eternal Night

The Monarch

-picture Rayn with slightly wrong eyes-

Orion

Kennels, they called it. Something that sounded like animals. Judging by the sounds, he almost believed it. For the most part, it was true. Shape-shifters, in the cages that lined a wide central aisle. In between, the pointed ears of elves, stoic, motionless as they always were, even in this position. He could also make out a mermaid, her scaly skin shimmering, the gills on her neck dry and cracked.

And humans.

So many humans.

Slaves. Like Orion himself.

His eyes focused on his own forearms. Skin dirty, smeared with blood, scratches visible, but he didn't pay attention to that. Only to the metal, from which wave after wave of pain radiated through him, each one a lightning bolt that sliced directly into him. Brutal. Deep. Inescapable. Like the needles in his skin.

Enslaved.

His fingers twitched, he wanted to clench them into a fist, but just the thought of it brought the searing, burning white to Orion, ready to sever any connection between him and wakefulness. What else could he do but sit here?

Still gagged, in a cross-legged position, back bent, hands in front of him. They had brought them here. Him and his men, after they had each been fitted with the slave's shackles. Orion had been powerless. He had watched them scream into their gags. Cry. Had seen the fear. And he had absorbed every image, allowed it to sear into him. Had not turned away from his guys. It was all he could do. To suffer with them. Each. Single. One.

How long he had been sitting here, staring ahead, doing nothing, thinking of nothing but enduring this pain somehow, he did not know. He had kicked, growled, had tried to reach his men, stretched his neck, looked out for them. For that, he had been given a single cell. In all the other cages, they were crowded together, the slave shackles, just like his, fastened to a ring on the floor with a chain. At first, he had half-heartedly tried to examine them, but this pain—every movement of his arms was pure agony, made his senses sway, robbed him of any orientation, exploded bright spots in his head, in front of his eyes, everywhere, summoner a Piercing ringing in His ears.

His entire nervous system seemed to want to shut down.

Giving up was the last thing he wanted, but he wasn't so foolish as to bite through every pain and worsen his injuries in the end when there was no way out anyway. Maybe if they brought him food. Drink. Then he could start another attack.

Would they nourish him?

Head bowed, hidden by the wild, straggly mane, he let his gaze wander. The elongated room was illuminated by simple light strips above their heads, casting a white, pale, sickly light on the scene, making them look even more pitiful and at the same time pounding behind his forehead. Orion surveyed the cages, the inmates, slumped, curled up, cowering, trembling, frightened. These kennels were dirty, no more than fifteen by fifteen feet at most, yet over a dozen slaves were crammed into a single one, the bars were made of rough metal, rusty, if Orion could have used his hands, he would have felt for weaknesses. Between the rows, guards paced back and forth, eyeing him in turn, apparently they had been warned about him. But what he didn't see were food remnants. Would they really let him starve?

Damn it, he had to get rid of this gag! Maybe he could incite the other people with his words. Remind them of what brutality and a life as livestock had robbed them of. Ultimately, they were people like him. Like his men. Not trained, sure, and they lacked the muscle mass, or the size, they barely looked more than children, but somewhere in them, there had to be some fight left.