He was the first person she had even tried to talk to. All of the other slaves spent their days scurrying around trying desperately to avoid the hungry, murderous gaze of the ever-present demidemons, but not Garen. He had approached her out of concern and curiosity and he didn’t seem to fear her in the same way as all of the others.
Thinking back, Cassandra wasn’t sure why she had told that man anything. She had tried to convince herself that it was simply boredom, but that explanation didn’t quite fit. She'd been bored ever since her arrival at the mines, but it was something more than boredom that compelled her.
I need to stop thinking about him; nothing could ever happen between us.
She took her time getting into line when the order came to begin work for the day. As the last person in the line, she could avoid seeing Garen as they headed to the dig site. She ignored the demi by the door that stood holding the bucket of glowstones since she already had one of her own. Emerging from the room, she turned to follow the other slaves down the slight decline of the tunnel towards the dig site.
Her thoughts turned to the demidemons that she could hear following her, closely. She had always despised the nearly-mindless demi, but the ones that shepherded the slaves in the mines around her were worse than normal. Fighting constantly broke out between them, often without reason. Slaves were dragged away to be killed and eaten for ridiculous and seemingly random reasons. They were behaving like bolos, which she didn't find surprising considering they were being controlled by one.
Cassandra resisted the urge to look back at the demidemons following her down the tunnel. She thought of the way all of the other slaves feared the demi and nearly laughed out loud.
If those poor fools ever laid eyes on a real demon, they’d probably mess themselves and die of fright. That would at least be preferable to what the demon would likely do to them.
Her thoughts strayed toward the bolos, Babossa. She knew next to nothing about him other than his caste as a bolos. Within The Nightlands, bolos generally served the spire demons, the highest caste of demons, as soldiers. It seemed odd to her for one of them to strike out on his own.
I might despise demi, but they’re nowhere near as bad as bolos. All those stupid brutes know how to do is fight, kill, and shovel food into their faces; which raises some questions about Babossa. How is it that a bolos managed to gather a couple hundred demidemons and get them to capture humans alive and excavate this mountain?
As she walked down the tunnel to the dig site, she caught flashes of silver and gold veins running through the black stone all around her. The light from her glowstone created thousands of tiny pinpricks of light along the walls, floor, and ceiling as it was reflected by the precious metals.
I’ve heard that people in The World of Light actually kill each other over these worthless bits of scrap metal. Pathetic, but I guess that the denizens of this world kill for even less.
The tunnel was the longest that she had seen in the mountain and was much deeper than the last tunnel she had been working in. The occasional glowstone pocket along the wall was the only source of illumination aside from the few glowstones the slaves were allowed to take with them. The glowstones in the walls dotted the tunnel with eerie puddles of pale light and made it almost possible to discern the tunnel’s length.
We’ve got to be getting close. Gormum’s fortress can’t be much farther and then the throne room.
The shuffling slaves up ahead of her were starting to spread out as the faster ones moved on ahead to the dig site. One of them stepped in front of a glowstone and the pale light illuminated his masculine features. She glimpsed the side of his face for only a moment as he passed the glowstone, but it was long enough for her to be impressed by the quiet determination he wore on his face like armor.
Garen of Seteal.
A curious feeling washed over her whenever her thoughts turned to that man, but she was at a loss to describe why he had that effect on her. Cassandra knew that it definitely wasn’t boredom that was fueling her interest in Garen, and she was beginning to suspect that it was the opposite. She couldn’t understand how a random slave could catch her attention so thoroughly or why she found him so interesting.
He'd already moved past the glowstone, but she could still see him clearly in her mind’s eye. He was tall and lean with coal black hair that curled slightly. His face was hidden behind a thick beard from his months of captivity, but there were many other slaves that could be described in much the same way. His emerald eyes were his only distinguishing feature; they were astonishingly vibrant and alive.
She stopped walking momentarily to consider what else set him apart. It was something more subtle: the way he held himself, the air of determination that surrounded him. The fact that he talked was also amazing. It had been years since she had last heard a human voice utter anything except a cry of pain or terror.
People in The World of Light take the power of speech for granted, but they all fall silent once in the hands of the demons; all but Garen.
She became aware that while standing still and pondering her thoughts, she had fallen behind the other slaves. Cassandra started walking again to catch up to the other slaves. She didn’t fear the demidemons that were stalking her, but she also didn’t feel like dealing with the hassle that killing them might bring.
Then again, killing a few upstart demi might just help me clear my head.
As if on cue, a scuffling sound from behind warned her of at least one approaching demi. She smiled to herself and decided that the demidemons had made her decision for her. Before the demi could reach her, she turned and backhanded it across the face. As it flew into the wall another two demi rushed forward to attack her.
I may not be able to use my full power like this, but even still, these demi don’t stand a chance.
One of the rushing demi tried to tackle her in a bold and foolish attempt to crush her with brute force, but she spun aside with an easy grace. As it lumbered past, she drove her elbow down into the back of the demi’s head and felt the base of its skull shatter. It immediately crumpled to the ground with a pained grunt.
The third demi took advantage of her brief distraction. It grabbed her left wrist even as the other demi hit the ground and pulled her towards it. She stared blankly at the demi as it took hold of her other wrist. Demidemons were naturally stronger than humans and the demi was counting on using that advantage in its favor.
Smiling, Cassandra twisted out of the demi’s grasp with ease and reached out with her right hand too fast for the surprised demi to react. She seized the demi’s throat and her fingers closed like a steel vice. As if struggling with a small child, she immediately overpowered it. She lifted the struggling demi off the ground with a single hand, and then viciously slammed it down into the floor with a resounding thud.
Cassandra leaned in close to the demi’s suddenly frightened face and looked it directly in the eye. Her own eyes flashed bright blue as she crushed the demidemon’s throat completely. She watched as the life drained from its pale, yellow eyes and its weak struggling stopped entirely.
Once dead, the demi's body began dissolving away; the blood of Orzyrus in its veins seeking to once again become a part of The Nightlands. Death greeted demon and demidemon alike; any creature that had the blood of Orzyrus flowing within met the same fate. Flesh, bone, and blood were all absorbed back into the world; nothing physical ever remained of the dead.
She stood up and looked over at the other fallen demidemons. The second demi, whose skull she had crushed with her elbow, had long since died and dissolved away leaving only a burgundy stain on the black stone of the tunnel. The other demi was still alive and lay against the wall shuddering in fear of her. She moved towards it and saw that part of its face had been crushed by the backhand she had brutally administered to it.
I suppose I should finish this quick and catch up to the others. Hopefully no one will notice that I’m gone and I can slip in before they reach the dig site.
Looki
ng back down at the demi she saw a look of pure terror on what was left of its face. She fought back a cold rage that threatened to overwhelm her.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that; you demi have tortured and mutilated countless thousands and it's high time you were served some of the same treatment. It’s a little late to learn this lesson, but you’ll finally know what true fear is. Had you only been smart enough to fear me earlier, you could have been spared this painful lesson. You may have lived a little longer.”
Minutes later, she caught up to the other slaves, leaving only a few vague stains on the tunnel floor behind her. Just as the group was nearing the dig site she darted in among them and no one seemed to notice the difference.
The rest of the day proved uneventful and for the first time none of the slaves went missing. She found it difficult to focus on digging, however, and her thoughts continually shifted back to one thing.
Am I becoming obsessed with you, Garen of Seteal?
Devouring Darkness Page 7
