Finally, it was his turn. Hooks pierced each of his shoulders, not a perfect piercing either, but through the shoulder blade. Esh opened his mouth to scream but there was no air in this land, and no air meant no scream. He was lifted into the air, higher and higher. He had the best view of this park of horror. The hooks stopped a moment and Esh could see two other humanoids hoisted from two different parts of the park and they both headed towards him, traveling by hook. Both of these humanoids soared towards him at an insane speed. They hit him, their cauterized bodies sticking to his and leaving a large part of their flesh behind when they swung backwards.
Esh gasped.
Even without eyeballs and with cracked teeth Esh knew these humanoids. He couldn’t recognize them by their appearance but he could feel it. They were his parents.
Before he could even reach out to touch them he was hoisted away. He was now so high that at some point he couldn’t even see the land of sin anymore.
His eyes slid open ever so slightly, letting light seep in. One figure was hunched over him and it took his eyes several minutes to adjust. However, he knew instantly by her voice that it was his fake mother. He could feel her tears plop onto his face.
“Oh Esh! You’re awake! I thought… I thought…”
She began to speak far too fast in Reahlic and even others who were fluent in Reahlic probably couldn’t have understood her anyways for she had begun sobbing and trying to talk at the same time.
He really hoped she wouldn’t start touching him for the pain had started to reach his brain now. How was he alive? Hadn’t he just been to hell? Had it all just been some crazy nightmare induced by his traumatic experience?
He coughed up blood and it was wiped from his face, but not by the hands of his fake mother but by someone else’s. Esh summoned all his strength to turn his head and was shocked to see the trash worker sitting by his side. Before Esh could ask any questions, the male raised himself with the same graceful movement Esh had seen earlier and was out the door before two seconds had passed. Esh let his head drift back. What was he doing here?
“Who did this to you?” asked mother in the common language, her speech finally understandable.
He didn’t answer, and he didn’t think mother expected him to anyways.
There was silence in the room for a few minutes, his fake mother still stood over him crying. He wasn’t surprised that there wasn’t a doctor in the room treating his wounds. For all he knew, one of the adults that held him down could have been a doctor.
“I think you should know,” said mother, “that the elderly male that just left was the one who brought you to me.” Her wrinkly face twisted as she stepped back and really took in the mess that Esh was in. It wasn’t pretty and it was highly likely he would be dragged by his feet back to the depths of sin land.
Mother left the room and came back with a canister of compressed liquid. Esh shook his head, knowing how precious liquid was this far inland but mother ignored him. She pressed the tip of the canister and spray wet her hands. She carefully let the liquid drip from her hand to his wounds. This seemed to worsen the pain.
She added soap that she had found, an also valuable resource, and cleaned his wounds. He tried to get her to stop, for the pain was too much and he knew she would get into trouble with Korp, the head master.
She finished the cleaning job and went to the worst part of all. The sewing.
As far as Esh knew she had no skills as a nurse but she did have skills making clothes for the children. His skin would be her fabric.
The procedure took an hour and the pain began to make Esh convulse, his eyes often rolling back into his head. He would pass out and she would wake him up with liquid, stopping completely until he was awake. Oh how he wished she would just finish the job while he was mentally away.
When the job was done she went to clean herself up, leaving Esh alone with his sobs, dull pain, and… anger… Yes, lots of anger. He was tired of the way he was treated and swore to himself, that if he lived, he would get revenge on Mehch.
Revenge would keep him alive.
The door opened but it was not the elderly trash worker or his fake mother who entered, but the handsome Korp. His smile was always ear to ear, teeth larger than normal, and wearing a black tunic. Smoke floated from a very thick fume stick that he kept in the corner of his grinning mouth.
Esh had just left hell and yet the devil had found him.
“Hi dearie,” Korp said, shutting the door behind him.
3 - Savior
“Poor baby… Poor sweet baby, all hurt and… vulnerable…” Korp said, walking up to his bed’s side.
“I just don’t understand, who could do this to such a sweet little baby as yourself.” Korp started to rub the skin around the freshly sewed wound, his eyes not leaving Esh’s.
“Who did this to you? Tell me! I’ll make sure justice is served!” Korp’s fingernails began to scratch Esh’s stomach. The devil wanted him badly this sun-cycle.
Korp had a reputation. A reputation that even made the great sculptor Mehch piss his trousers. Korp loved his adolescent males, but loved them a little too much. Esh had heard stories of orphan males being sent to his office for a scolding but they never returned.
“Why don’t you wanna tell me? Do you not trust daddy?” Korp said, his eyes coming to angry points and his huge muscles flexing under his tunic. “Don’t fucking ignore me, Shagra shit!” he hissed, slamming his fists on Esh’s bed and sending ripples through his body, tears coming to his eyes.
“Oh Creator, I am sassy this sun-cycle! Ignore me, son. Ignore my silly silly blunder.” Korp’s hands returned to Esh’s stomach, but much lower this time. Even the pain couldn’t mask his discomfort in this situation.
The door opened and in walked mother. Korp’s hands were off of him immediately.
“What the hell happened here, Meyaderah?” Korp asked, his tone much deeper and professional.
Meyaderah bowed with both hands out, as all the employees were expected to do and answered, “Head master Korp, one of our own orphans did this to Esh! They… They sliced him up!” she cried and ran up to hug him but he pushed her away.
“How could you let this happen? How? How Meyaderah?!”
She dropped to her knees and started to sob hysterically. Esh had already figured she blamed herself. Blamed herself for even letting him try to belong. When and if he ever healed, he would hug her and tell her it wasn’t her fault.
Korp turned to Esh, “I assure you my son, we will get to the bottom of this!”
The head master turned on his heels and was out of the room.
Sleep wouldn’t come. It was dark in his new cell and every time he moved on his squeaky bed the beast on his chest would awaken. He could feel something cold running down from the sides of the wound. He lifted a finger and carefully swabbed the wetness. He brought it to his nose and nearly vomited at the smell. It was the smell of death.
He couldn’t remember what the room he was in looked like for he was pretty much delirious when he had first awoke. By the time his mind had cleared up the room had been pitch black. There were no lights under the door and no moonlight shone through any window. The darkness began to play with his head, often morphing into strange shapes, creatures or even humanoids he knew. He wasn’t safe behind closed lids either, the creatures of the dark found him there too.
He heard the door creak open. There was a pause and then he heard quiet footsteps begin towards him. Please, not Korp. Please… Not Korp. Not the devil.
Esh began to squeak and wiggle but an unfamiliar, “Shhhh,” took him by surprise.
The figure was to his bedside in half a second.
“You’re dying, lad,” said the stranger.
This wasn’t news to Esh for he had already died. Or at least, he thought did.
“Should have kept to your own damn business.”
The young male’s eyes widened. Was this? Couldn’t be. How did he get in? What was he doing here?
Esh tried to sit up but was instantly held down by his neck.
“Stay down, will ya?” the stranger whispered, removing his hand to start fiddling with something in the darkness.
Esh complied but so many questions buzzed in his head. This could be only one humanoid, the trash worker. But why was this old male here? Who would want to visit a dying loathed?
“You aren’t going to like how this tastes lad, but it will save ya it will.”
A canister was held to his lips and before Esh could resist the trash worker sprayed something foul down his throat. There was an instant wooziness that overtook him and he wanted nothing else but to spit it back up. However, the trash worker would have none of this and covered Esh’s mouth with a hard pressed hand.
“You need to drink, dammit. I’ve risked too much to come here for you not to cooperate,” the Elder said, applying even more pressure. “Now, I’ll let go if you promise to swallow.”
Esh shook his head and the pressure was released. He forced himself to swallow the snot textured sour liquid. The room began to spin.
“This outta stop the infection and speed up the healing process.”
Esh heard the male stand followed by footsteps headed for the door.
“Wait,” Esh managed to say and the footsteps stopped.
“You will see me again,” the male said.
The door opened and closed, leaving Esh in complete darkness.
If the healing process was sped up by the nasty medicine, Esh couldn’t tell. He was in bed for what seemed like forever and little red sores began popping up under his back side. He had no books, no games, and no company. Except, that wasn’t true for Esh did have company every moon-cycle.
About an hour after all the sounds of the orphanage ceased as everyone fell asleep, Esh’s door would open and Korp would slither in. He wouldn’t say a word, he would just walk over to a chair in the corner and plant himself there for a very long time. He spent this time smoking fume sticks and…… watching him. Esh hated how the only light in the room was his yellow eyes. They say the more yellow your eyes were the more the blood of the sun of Reah had blessed you.
Esh never truly knew when he would fall asleep, he would just open his eyes and the sunlight would creep through the halls and into his room. Korp would not be there, not even the ash of his fume sticks.
Sun-cycles went by slow, slower than Esh thought possible. He found himself counting seconds, minutes, seeing how long he could go before getting distracted by vermin escaping through cracks in the wall or bugs being caught by bigger bugs. And with his time alone, with this punishment for being sliced open, his anger grew. He didn’t know what exactly it was he wanted to do but he did know one thing, he would change. What else did he have to fear? The worst had already been done to him.
Did he want to kill Mehch? Did he want to perform the same procedure on him? He didn’t know. All he knew was he grew more and more angry each sun-cycle and could only stuff all of these emotions down deep inside him. If he caught himself becoming too angry he would run through his verb conjugations and vocabulary of Reahlic. Anos, to have. Sentas, to feel. Chakras, to dream.
Finally, mother came in. He was mad at her too. Why didn’t she come to visit him? Was she too busy eating? Esh took that thought back instantly and felt like ash for thinking it.
She did not look good, as if the life Esh received daily was donated directly from her. Black circles under her eyes, and… was that a bruise on her cheek? She limped over to his bedside, a limp that had never presented itself to Esh before. What was going on?
He was able to sit up by now and asked her what was going on.
“You don’t worry!” she yelled, making him jump. Her cheeks were red, but the softness returned in her eyes. She pulled up a seat next to him and they sat in silence. Her presence was so soothing that he began to cry. Mother tried to hold it in but could not. This was their therapy and besides, crying indoors was a treat because tears outside would evaporate before they even left the lid.
She had only been in the room for a few minutes before Esh looked up from his bed to see Korp’s head peering through the door, his eyes wide in horror. As soon as mother turned to see what Esh was looking at, Korp had changed back to normal and he entered.
Meyaderah… Outside… Please,” he said.
Mother rose slowly, her chin to her chest and she slumped out of the room. Korp closed the door slowly, staring at his favorite young one.
There was a loud smack and a cry of pain.
4 - Training
Life continued and so did mother’s beatings. After Esh’s release from his cell, the other young males had left him alone entirely. However, the struggle wasn’t over yet. Lying in bed for such a long period of time, often in his own excrement and urine, left his body covered in leaking sores.
The first thing Esh did was run to the nearest mirror to take off his filthy bandages. What he saw made him drop to his knees.
A large scar started at his left shoulder and crossed his entire body to his right hip. It was thick, shiny, and very soft to the touch. Esh did have to congratulate Mehch on his handy work, he had created a masterpiece.
And yet it wasn’t the scar on his chest that made him drop, but the two circular scars on each of his shoulders, exactly where the hooks had punctured him in the land of sin. It took a few seconds for his breath to return to him.
This couldn’t be possible. Maybe Mehch came back and added these accessories while he had been passed out. He hoped this was true.
His time at the orphanage did not change and everyone around him acted as if nothing had happened. Nothing at all. Esh didn’t have any scars and he for sure had not be opened up by a bone-blade for all the humanoids of Reah to see his insides. Didn’t happen.
Esh no longer chased after the others, or tried to win their acceptance. He stuck to himself. The only thing he had to look forward to was the Choosing in which all fourteen-year-old males and Females were given the position in life that would fit them physically and mentally.
He would become a soldier, yes! A soldier. He would show them all how tough he was, how worthy to be of the land of Reah. But how? He was 8 years old, shorter than most of the other males and was by far the weakest. Yet the eight-year-old pictured himself in the gigantic armor of the army of Reah, the Red sun gleaming off the metallic pauldrons. And no set of armor is complete without the large heavy sword all soldiers had strapped to their backs, ready to be unsheathed and swung into action. He pictured all the humanoids clapping and cheering for him as he walked the streets, his purple hair completely forgotten.
He would have to train, and train hard. He would start this sun-cycle.
And Esh did train hard. During the unsupervised recesses, while the other males and females played, Esh was doing pushups. He couldn’t even do one, so he figured he could do them on his knees… barely. One knee push-up turned to 50, and one regular push-up transitioned to 50.
On his ninth natal sun-cycle, Esh treated himself to trying to do a pull-up using one of the bars that clothes were hung over. Training would be his natal sun-cycle gift to himself. However, just like the push-up, he just hung there, his face scrunched with effort.
So he swung, and swung until he was able to swing his chin over the bar. After two weeks he was able to do a single pull-up. After a month he could do ten!
By age 11, Esh made himself pick up every single heavy object he found. He would walk around the playground picking up all the heaviest stones he could, even picking up a few of the other smaller orphans as well. He kept up with his push-ups and his pull-ups.
Push-ups, pull-ups, and lifting heaving objects wasn’t all but he would run and he would run fast! Orphans would watch him start at one end of the street where he would sprint back as fast as he could until his legs failed him. It came to a point that he was running so much that his lungs soon forgot all about needing protection from the ash in the air. Esh, himself, did not notice the change. It j
ust so happened that one sun-cycle he had forgotten to dawn his mask and since his lungs gave him no issues he never thought to use it again.
Every moon-cycle Esh would crash onto his sweat stained bed and fall asleep immediately. That was, until, one moon-cycle upon falling onto his bed his head hit something hard underneath the sheet. He tore the sheet off expecting to find a stone placed there by one of the orphans, but that wasn’t what he found. There, on his bed, was a brand new copy of Reahlic grammar. He instantly felt guilty. He had been slacking tremendously in his studies, sometimes not even showing up to class.
But wait, how did this book get here? He couldn’t think of anybody who had the money to buy such a shiny book, or even anyone that would do such a kind thing. That moon-cycle, when all the other orphans were asleep, Esh opened the book.
To his amazement, he did not find Reahlic grammar on the pages inside. No, but instruction on the grammar of the language of the Green humanoids. Vivreonish.
He couldn’t believe his eyes for fake mother had told him all of these books had been put to fire. All knowledge of the other territories was forbidden and those who hid such pieces of information could face time in the prisons. What was even more interesting about this book was that the cover seemed to not have been altered, as if this book was made to deceive the eyes of others.
His bottom lip quivered and tears fell from his eyes. This was the best moon-cycle of his life. He opened the book and read, forgetting completely about the generous stranger and his fatigue.
Esh was now age fourteen, ready to be chosen, ready to become a soldier. He never quit his training and never gave himself rest unless he was ill. He began to steal too.
When unsuspecting orphans were turned away Esh would take their food and scarf it down. During moon-cycles, he would sneak into the pantry and eat until his heart was content. He was pretty sure his mother suspected him, but said nothing. He had become stronger and had even went through a growth spurt. The only orphan that matched him in height was Mehch, who had become even fatter and lazier. Esh nearly laughed out loud when Mehch declared he was going to join the army and become general. “Not with that belly,” Esh had thought to himself.
The Four Territories: The Dark Assassin Book One Page 2
