Chapter 21 - Luna
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Abel and I found the entrance to Portum; Neither of us exchanged words. Awestruck, I watched him stroll into the opening and digest the passageway. I was convinced my instincts were wrong, and we’d have to find an alternative, more dangerous route to the City. Alone, the trip would have been a breeze, but with Tre and Abel, especially Abel’s lack of experience in several, if not every form of combat, was discouraging, to say the least. He’s done far better than I could’ve expected and saved Tre’s life twice and mine when we were back in the tunnels. The lack of control over his powers will do more damage than good if he doesn’t hone them. I sent word out to Sapien to meet us at Portum a few hours before the night of joining Tre and Abel in the woods. He’s been my mentor for almost 240 years since I turned ten.
My father was his brother-in-arms; they fought in The Scarred War between the Five Nations. He fought alongside King Ptor’s Brother, King Nitas, and was born on the soil of Enu. All three fought side by side, and he was the only survivor of the onslaught, which took place as the Three Nations Ignu, Ter, and Aquen swept and pillaged their lands. His entire bloodline was wiped from the face of the Earth as a punishment for his Father’s Betrayal of King Vani from the Ignu Nation. In truth, King Vani was the ruler of all three nations but delegated Ter to Queen Ira and Aquen to King Gul as a reward for annihilating the Tal and Enu Nations. Fortunately, after the war ended, he and my father returned to the rubble and ash where their home in Enu used to be. They took it upon themselves to reunite whatever families were left and rebuilt Enu in secret along the borders of the Ter. The Tal and Enu Nations stopped communicating for 25 years; Tal never knew Enu survived and was rebuilt until one day, Father and I traveled to the City of Portum to bring the two Nations back together.
Sapien has been a father figure ever since my father passed, and he took me and my brother, Amicus, when Magnus died, saving my life. We had no inheritance, no mother, no father, no place to call our own, but he adopted us. Sapien taught us everything; most days and nights, we trained relentlessly. I could see as we grew older how much pity he had and the amount of guilt he carried, not only because our childhoods were taken from us, but all of the secrets that consumed him to protect us. I’m not one to tell false truths and make anyone believe the training wasn’t brutal or rewarding. Sapien wasn’t obligated to do everything he did, but he told us that he owed it to my father to raise us to be the best version of ourselves. We learned quickly that no generation of Lux would rest in peace unless we fought, attained, and protected.
His teachings and my brother, Amicus are the main reasons why I’m alive today and on a journey like ours, it reminds me to be grateful for the thick callouses I formed, the pain I’ve endured, and the amount of discipline required to survive. All of the memories came flooding back before I woke up in this dark room surrounded by four stone walls. The only way in or out is through the bars in the ceiling which is how a thin amount of light enters this cell. I don’t hear any signs of life as I sit here idly. I want to scream out for Abel or Tre, but before I do, I hear keys rattling and people mumbling as they walk past. One of them stops and peers into my cell, it’s a man, he’s wearing silver-plated armor and has a sword hanging from his hips. He must be a guard, but I’m not sure how many cells there are around this area and maybe Abel or Tre is in one of them. The guard looking in, shouts out to the other to go find their Captain and let him know one of the prisoners has woken up.
The guard’s footsteps echo, and the sounds get quieter the farther and further away they get from my cell. The remaining guard says nothing; he stands there and watches over him with a stoic face. No more than five minutes later, the guard had returned, breathing heavily as he told the other above me that a prisoner was loose, running through the streets. “We can…” guard inhales, exhales, “Tell…” inhales, then exhales, “Captain…” steadying his breath, “On our way back…” After finally catching his breath, he yells, “Hurry!!” A flicker of fear poisons my thoughts about who the “prisoner” could be, wondering if Tre or Abel made a break for it. I’m trapped inside these four walls; even if I reached the bars above me, the cell’s grates would have to open outwards, not inwards. I’d be a waste; I must preserve as much energy as possible when the guards return.
We could’ve been more careful; I should’ve been vigilant. How could I have been? Abel unlocked that passageway to Portum with blood, an heir to King Ptor’s Lineage. Before the Scarred War, everyone assumed his wife was barren, unable to provide him with a son or daughter, a prince or princess to inherit the throne. After his sacrifice, everyone seemed to forget or conveniently ignore the idea that his wife may have survived and birthed an heir. A child of the bloodline to continue and pass on his legacy from beyond the grave. This has to be the reason PURA kidnapped Abel and conducted experiments. If they got a sample of his blood and knew the capabilities, the kind of access to Portum, and the secrets sheltered beneath its walls… The remains of Tal and Enu would either be taken under the control of The Three Nations or smothered and crushed to pieces then scattered into oblivion. There’s much more at play here and for the first time, in a long time, I am frightened for Sapien, for my brother Amicus, for my friend Tre, for Abel of what the future may hold.
I am reeled back from my worries when the tapping begins, drawing my focus from the dark edges of my cell to the grates above. The tapping stops for a brief moment, then I see the sharp edge of a blade repeatedly hit one of the bars. Following another dramatic pause, I see Amicus’s face enter my field of vision and the weight of the journey disappears. He slouches over the grate and gives me a wicked grin, laughing manically as he runs his blade from side to side over the bars. “Hey Sis!!” He waves. I shake my head and take another look up to make sure it was him. “Miles, you shouldn’t be here. If they—” “No warm welcome? No, ‘Miles thank you for coming to my rescue! If you hadn’t arrived I don’t know what I’d do!’” Typical. Leave it to Miles to make escaping this cell seem like a regretful decision. He doesn’t take much seriously and when he does, it’s never in dangerous situations.
“I’m guessing Sapien brought you along?” “You would be correct sis! He’s out looking for your friend Tre. He’s gotten himself into a lot of trouble breaking out of his cell.” Luna's eyes widen with surprise. “Tre, did what?!” “Look, I don’t have all the time in the world to catch you up. We need to leave now!”
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Chapter 22 - Abel
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I wake up with shackles around my hands and one around my neck, tethering me to the wall behind me. It’s hard to breathe, the air is dense and still. The room has a foul stench to it, the smell of urine, feces, and rotten meat overwhelms my senses, stinging my eyes and invading my nostrils. I hear the sound of insects buzzing and muffled sounds coming through a door on the other side of the room. The only visible light appears as a straight line running on the sides and underneath the doorway. There isn’t enough light to see the size of the room, but I can sense that I am not alone. I whisper out into the void hoping that Luna or Tre are with me. Silence answers, but not a soul does. The last thing I remember is Luna’s body lying on the ground. Maybe Tre got out before she or I were taken.
I get up and grip the chains that bind me, pulling with all my strength. The longer and harder I pull, the more unnecessary the act becomes. It’s futile. I sit back down and sulk. Before I can come up with another plan that would lead to eventual failure, the streak of light under the door disappears. I hear the rattling of keys and the locks begin to open one by one until the hinges screech as the metal grinds against itself. The door opens inward and that’s when I see them. Horrified, shocked, and heartbroken, the putrid smell that envelops the room isn’t what’s causing the tears to stream down my face. The bodies of men are torn apart, some are headless, and some are dismembered. Heads that were once attached to vessels are now lying in piles or scattered on the ground in my vicinity. These men were once someone’s friend or family member, but now strangers who shared nothing except biological sex, share a gruesome fate.
Swarms of flies circle the dead, and maggots devour their rotting flesh. Silent expressions of agony are left imprinted on the faces of many—guts entangled around limbs and intestines hanging off the wooden beams above. I throw up chunks of rabbit from the last time we sat by the fire. Most of the bile lands on my clothes and runs down my inner thighs. I use my forearm to wipe the rest of the puke off my face. Not even a minute later, I have two arms wrapped around my arms and thrust forward. I’m dragged through this visceral blood bath, listening to the sounds of flesh squish as my knees scrap the ground. I puke again and again until I’m thrown out of the room with a blinding pain scorching through my abdomen. There’s no food or liquid left in my stomach, dry heaving in the fetal position. The guards try and pull my limp body, but I resist pulling myself in the opposite direction. After a few more attempts, they tire and decide to motivate me with half a dozen kicks to the body; I succumb quickly to the pain and impatience of the guards. We continue forward on this path to whatever hell awaits me.
Minutes that feel like hours pass, and eventually, we stop in front of a wooden door. One of the guards lets go of my arm and knocks before entering. I’m tossed into the room, where my face slides against stone. I retreat into myself, wishing the pain would evaporate, hoping this nightmare would end. I think of Tre and Luna, feeling useless and pathetic as I try to convince myself they aren’t treated with the same malice and cruelty. I lay sulking, staring at one of the guard’s feet, waiting for the following traumatic situation to unfold. “Get up…” A rugged voice says from across the room. “I said, Get Up!” His tone becomes aggressive the more he has to repeat the command. “I said… Get up, Half Breed!!” The man slams his fist on a solid surface, followed by the sliding of a chair grinding against the stone floor. Heavy footsteps approached, closing the gap between myself and the physical embodiment of one of those douchebags with an inferior complex and a dash of roid rage.
I feel a large hand thrust my skull into the ground; the skin on my forehead tears as if someone was rubbing my skin raw with sandpaper. The man clenches my hair, pulling it upwards as I wince from the pain. Blood begins to trickle down Abel’s face, and the faint scent of metal rises into his nostrils as it flows past his lips. The chemical reaction of iron making contact with his taste buds left behind a metallic flavor. Abel felt its warmth rolling off his chin as it glided down the paths of his jugular veins, forming a singular red stream that seeped into the shirt's fabric. The man pulled his hair again, jerking him up until his knees rose off the ground.
He takes his hand off Abel’s head, takes a few steps, and brushes his shoulder as he walks around, standing face to face. The man grabs his lower jaw, squeezing tight enough to pinch the skin. He lifts Abel’s chin toward the ceiling until his eyesight aligns with the man’s own. The tension grew as the silence thickened the density of the air, becoming palpable. Abel’s body was riddled with pain; he was fed up with the lack of explanations as to why he and his friends were treated like foes, taken hostage, and thrown into cells. He couldn’t speak for Luna or Tre's experience, but it's not a stretch to believe they were treated with the same malice and aggression.
The man lets go of his face and speaks for the first time, “How did you find and then open the passage?”. I take a few heavy breaths to gather myself, “We were told of Portum’s location…” The man scoffs, “Why? What business do you have here in Portum?” “We came here to meet someone, a woman.” The man grunts disdainfully, clearly showing signs of contempt for my unwelcomed presence. “Who?” I respond carefully, unwilling to reveal sensitive information about us or our intentions. “If I knew her name, I would’ve told you already.” The man glares and nods, “Wrong Answer.” A sharp pain spreads throughout my abdomen, and the guard strikes the right side of my body again, just above the waist. I clench my teeth, shallow breathing my way to a response, “Do you guys ask questions looking for specific answers and then assault people who don’t know the “what’s the password” answers?”
Abel realizes, rather quickly, that these men do not take criticism lightly, receiving another fistful of compassion and understanding. “Yep, aggression. Naturally, this would be your approach. I wonder if anybody responds well to your ridiculously pompous attitudes.” This time, the solemn man headbutts Abel; his knees buckle, and gravity does the rest. The guards leave him lying on the ground as his blood rewets the surface. “Since you feel so reluctant to answer my questions honestly and insist on disrespecting me in my kingdom! Let's see how long it takes for, The Via to Patiens to crush that rebellious spirit.” The Burly man spits on Abel’s limp body and nods to the guards towering over him. After a moment of silence, the guards grab his feet and drag him out of the man’s quarters.
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Chapter 23 - Tre
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As Tre swam underwater past the wooden bridge, the muffled sounds of the guard’s feet stomping one after another and wood creaking under their weight diminished the closer he got to land. He never could breathe underwater, but he had suspicions about what other supernatural powers he was given at birth through his genetic bonds with nature. Any mortal would have drowned or been captured at the bridge, but Tre found that he could hold his breath for much longer than the average Navy seal. The murky waters hid him well, and the advantage of a crystal clear sight made his way through the waters that much easier, but he was running out of oxygen. The risk of being seen as much less problematic if he passed out and floated to the water's surface. At least, if his location were revealed he would have a better opportunity, a sliver of hope to make it to the end of the lake before the guards could surround him.
Tre slowly ascended and managed to keep his body in place as his face broke the water’s surface. He took a couple of deep breaths, then slowly turned his head so his face was back in the water. Before he resumed heading to shore, he brought his ear up and over the water to get an idea of the distance between him and the guards. At first, he heard only the leaves on trees rustling as the wind blew and nothing else. “I’m assuming the guards believe I am under or near the bridge, preoccupied by their speculations.” Tre felt it was safe enough to replenish the oxygen reserves in his body so he wouldn’t have to risk coming back up to the surface for air until he reached the shore. He turned his head back to his face parallel to the sky and took in one last deep breath, but this time, the sounds of two objects entered the water, one after the other.
In a panic, Tre descended to his previous depth, then carved through the water with every stroke, ferociously kicked his legs to propel himself forward, putting as much distance between him and his pursuer. He didn’t dare waste time or energy turning around the opaque waters concealing him, but to what extent? The shoreline became visible after a few minutes, and his heart began pumping harder and harder, louder and louder, until he finally broke the surface. The sting of the burning muscles in his arms and legs hindered his progress to dry land. “I just have to swim a few more yards and be scot-free!” Tre searched deep within himself, tapped into his reserves, and expelled whatever energy he had left. When he reached shore, his hands felt the mud, so he dug his finger into the ground and pulled his body out of the water.
He got up on one knee and exhaled, “What a life. I go to sleep, wake up being dragged out of a tent in my underwear, get thrown in a cell, chased by dozens of men, jump out a window, run through the streets of Portum, and then dive into a lake with no contingency plan.” Tre shakes his head, chuckling. “What a time to be alive.” He rises, then shakes as much of the mud off his hands as possible. He lifts his chin to the sky while closing his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief. Tre steps forward, and suddenly he hears a loud splash behind him. He quickly turns around to find a man standing on shore breathing heavily with shoulder-length black hair covering his eyes. The man’s upper body flexes as he balls his fists. “I hope you enjoyed the fresh air while it lasted…”
Tre’s heart stopped, the man’s gravelly, but there was something more disturbing about his aura. It made him feel worthless and hollow as if life itself had no meaning. Every pessimistic thought he’d ever had was swallowing him whole and rotting him from the inside out. A sharp pain developed in the back of his head, his hands shot upward, holding his head as he was brought down to his knees. He started yelling uncontrollably, “NO! STOP!”. Tre’s pain increased tenfold as it traveled from his head to his hands and to the rest of his body. “WHAT’RE DOING TO ME?!” the man chuckles, and a grin develops. “I’m bringing hell to you!”
Tre removes his hands from his head, and the pain subsides but then flares up again. He opens his eyes and sees the flesh on his hands melt away, from skin to muscle to bone, like acid was doused over them. The pain intensifies but is nothing compared to the former experience. The man laughs with a sadistic undertone, “Feels good, doesn’t it?” “Uh, I guess that is one way of putting it.” The man frowns, sighing, “That was rhetorical, half-blood!.” “Maybe for you, but not for me.” The man waves his hand across Tre, and the pain evaporates. He looks down at his hands, and the once-melting flesh returns to normal as if the entire experience was a hallucination.
“I can bestow peace, or I can bestow pain. What you call reality is mine for the taking. Some call me the devil, some call me a Saint, but I am neither. I am—” Before the man’s grand reveal, another figure emerged from the water, and the asshole without a shirt had a sword 2-foot blade sticking out of his mouth. The man’s teeth flew out into the air like shrapnel, following his tongue, which landed, then bounced off my left cheek. His eyes widened as the blade ripped through his right cheek, and he fell to his knees. The figure behind him stood in a drenched white robe, sticking to his skin and holding a blade with blood dripping off the tip. He tossed his sword to the opposite arm, gripping the hilt, then in one fell swoop, decapitated the kneeling man.
“God, I hate the Cavae—such a braggadocious breed.” The figure flicked his sword as he moved towards Tre; the blood of the Cavae flung off his blade, and then his sword dematerialized. The figure kneeled by the headless corpse and took out a vial, collecting some blood from the Cavae. Tre tilted his head in bewilderment, “What’re you doing?” The figure continued to fill a couple more vials before answering him. “A potent ingredient when concocting potions, but what most people don’t know when taken orally, their blood releases a toxin that poisons its victims, and there are only a few things in the worlds that provide the cure.” He stayed silent as he watched the figure place the three vials of blood into a pouch strapped to his left thigh.
Tre was apprehensive about the situation and who his savior was. A part of him felt like his life was spared, not saved. “Are you going to take me back to my cell now?” “No.” “Why did you save me then? I don’t know you, much less you don’t owe me anything.” The figure nodded and then approached Tre, kneeling in front of him. “Luna. She is the reason I am here.” “Luna?” He lowered his head and chuckled, “Yes, she is the daughter of a brother I lost many years ago, and when she reaches out, I’m there.” Tre nodded slowly but still didn’t get an actual answer to his question. “Well, then... who are you?” “My name is Sapien. I’m here to rescue you and your friends, Tre.”
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Chapter 24 - Abel
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Abel wakes up lying in the dirt with an incredible wave of pain from his recent introduction to the City of Portum. “Great, another dark room with four walls to keep me company.” He gets up, wincing from the pain, but this time free from shackles, and the room doesn't reek of death, blood, and guts. This room still smelled like piss though “From death chamber to Urinal. God, I love this City.” Abel scoffed, shaking his head and thinking about when the guards would drag him back for another round of interrogations. He recalled his last conversation with the Burly Man and his last words. “Let’s see how long it takes for "The Via to Patiens" to crush that rebellious spirit.” Luna had never mentioned “The Via to Patiens”; he could only assume the worst.
Abel found himself pacing, his anxiety continued to heighten the more time he spent roaming. Something peculiar was going on, he felt the room's walls and the touch of coarse stone nothing but stone. He assumed there was a door or some opening because how else could the guards have thrown him in here? Another plan would be to escape through the vents, whatever ventilation system they had. This option withered and died, once he realized no air was entering the room. The temperature had been rising just slow enough for him to disregard, but the sweat trickled down his body meant he was on borrowed time.
As time passed, Abel became increasingly aware that this room was his tomb. The Burly Man wasn’t sending his guards to retrieve him. The interrogations were over, and the trials had begun. “Yeah, optimistically, I have a 5% chance of survival and a 95% chance of post-mortem defecation.” Abel chuckled. He found his current situation was filled with irony; his whole life felt identical to being trapped inside the four walls of his mind. He was suffocating; there was never enough time to decipher the endless riddles that accumulated, leading to the culmination of trials without substantial meaning. Unlike his past, Abel wasn’t fighting for himself anymore; he’d been given two more reasons, two lives to protect and persevere for. Tre and Luna won’t be names added to the list of people who’d cared and protected him and who perished senselessly. At that moment, he decided his life did have meaning. The path traveled was worth the suffering; they were worth every ounce of it.
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Chapter 25 - Luna
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Miles and Luna evaded the flux of guards running in and out of buildings as they made their way to the rendezvous point. Sapien and Miles arrived at Portum the same day Abel opened the secret passage to the City. They’d been hiding in plain sight as a couple of farmers. They entered the city to sell crops and hire workers for the upcoming harvest. Miles certainly looked the part with dirt streaks on his face; his forearms and hands were covered in dirt. There was mud underneath his fingernails, and his jeans were faintly stained green from mowing the pastures around the farm where Sapien and our family were raised. Lies with bits of truth sprinkled throughout make them much more believable.
It didn’t take long for Miles to lead us back to the wagon with their crops and the few extra horses they had for “the workers” they were to hire. “Sapien wants us to meet him outside of the city. You and your friends getting caught erases the anonymity we had in Portum. The only safe place is home.” Luna sighs. “Alright, I guess we have no choice in the matter.” As they saddle up, she begins to think of a different plan, wanting to come up with a more proactive approach, but too many scenarios lead to them being captured or killed. Begrudgingly, she agrees to leave the City and meet the guys at the rendezvous point. Miles ties the horses up to the wagon and set off for the city’s gates.
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