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The Escape from Fort Bemoth
I awoke with pain in my side. My battlemage was kicking me awake. I could make out little of what he was yelling, but I could guess he was yelling at me for sleeping in. In a few moments, I was finally able to shake off sleep and understand what he was saying.
"-Sleep on the job!" was the first thing I heard. Uh-oh. I knew this was going to be bad. So bad that I would have to go to the dungeon. Sleeping on duty always meant the dungeon. At least it did for me. I am always the only person at the dungeon whenever I get into trouble. I never even remembered falling asleep. But I do remember eating the meat that was supposed to be for the boarhounds. The evidence was still on my shirt. Despite the grueling effort, I still got up. I was already sore from yesterday and didn't want to be kicked anymore.
“Get up, 574!” Battlemage Grelin yelled, holding up his whip to strike. With lightning speed, the whip lashed at my back, bringing me to my knees and sending pain up my back. “I said GET UP!” He pulled me up to my feet, sending more pain into my aching body.
“I knew I couldn’t trust you to feed the boarhounds unsupervised! I should have known you would eat the food yourself! COME!” Grelin yelled again. I quickly obliged. He wasn’t a person to mess with. He put my hands in his and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, ghostly chains were wrapped around my hands, tying them together. “Now it seems you won’t be running off” he said. I didn’t remind him that I needed my legs to run and not my hands.
Battlemage Grelin is one of the top warriors in the Burakin Estate, and also a legendary mage, thus his title of battlemage. From what I heard, he was a commander in the War for Farinth, taking down Farinth’s walls by transforming the stone walls to wood and then using fire magic to finish the job. All of that magic nearly made him open to the wisps, creatures that can take control of people who gather too much magic from the Irethial. Some say that the wisps went as close as an inch to him. I wish they had taken control of him. Sadly, he only became unconscious. His second in command then took over and ambushed the city of Farinth from behind and won the long-lasting war.
I hated Grelin for that.
The Raenins living in Farinth were taken prisoner by Grelin, with anyone who even lifted a finger killed on sight. My mother was one of the Raenins taken prisoner while she was pregnant, and I have lived here every second of my life since my birth.
My mother's name was Catherine, who was a seamstress in Farinth. My father died from an accident with magic after my mom became pregnant. My mother's name was changed to 539 when coming to the fort and becoming a slave, although I called her Catherine when no one was around. She soon turned fatally ill, and none of the healers even bothered to help her. I did everything I could. I stole food and medicine, doing everything I could. But she still died, despite all of my efforts.
Grelin and I arrived at our destination. The dungeon was only a huge, stone block with no windows. Even the floor was made of stone. I knew there was nothing inside except for the smell of blood and rot. Outside of the dungeon, two batlemages stood outside with a spear in one hand and a whip in the other. I knew both battlemages, and I despised both of them.
Yeral, the shorter of the two, wore a purple belt with gold stripes while Dutch, a tall and intimidating man, only wore a plain purple belt. I believe that Yeral has higher authority because of this, but I am not sure. I could tell Grelin could barely contain a smile as Yeral started to talk.
“574 again? That boy gets into more trouble than boy 289.” Yeral complained.
“You will take him, or else you can go in there with him.” Grelin growled. His hand flickered with fire briefly from rage. I thought I might actually be lucky to be in the dungeon, until Grelin yelled as he was walking away, “40 lashes for that boy, you hear me? I want 40 lashes!” This was the most lashes I had ever gotten. My heart plummeted to my stomach, and I could already imagine the pain. It didn’t help that everyone around stopped to stare at me.
The battlemages looked at me like I was a rotten piece they had to pick up. Well, I guess I still had the boarhound's meat on my shirt. I had given Yeral and Dutch enough trouble, and I wasn’t going to stop giving them trouble. They had to drag me up the stone steps into the dungeons with me kicking and punching and using a basic shocking spell or two, but they blocked the spells. They threw me into the dungeon-literally- and sent me sprawling on the floor. I quickly got up and prepared a third shocking spell, but Dutch bound my hands together with a rope much like Grelin used on me. I can’t wait until Grelin teaches that trick so I can thank him for something I thought to myself. Most of the slaves here get taught by their battlemages to use simple magic so that we can fight for them. No one has said it yet, but I believe they will hypnotize us when that time comes because Grelin knows I would betray him in any way possible.
The battlemages shoved me against the cold, stone wall and bound my feet together so I couldn’t run. I couldn’t do anything now. Dutch brought his hand up with his whip, lashing it on my back. Pain soared through my back. I screamed involuntarily. I didn’t want to show weakness, but it hurt too much. The second lash came, just as merciless as the first. On and on it went for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn’t keep count of how many times I got whipped through the pain. When it finally ended, I was on my knees sobbing. The battlemages sewed my cuts from the whipping together using magic, but the pain was still there. Dutch really didn’t have any mercy today.
“If you would behave now, you wouldn’t be punished. No food for tonight, and you are staying here until Batllemage Grelin comes, which will be a long time away, so please, make yourself at home.” Yeral snarled. Then they left, closing the dungeon door behind them taking the light with them, leaving me in pitch black. I tried as best as I could to get comfortable, but that was impossible considering the pain in my back and the fact there were no beds or even anything soft to lay on.
I eventually woke up to the sound of a horn. I never seem to remember falling asleep. I have a knack for that. Just then, Batllemage Elerith charged in. Elerith was one of the slave owners at Fort Bemoth, having a reputation nearly as legendary as Grelin himself, but for a different reason. He was the first ever person to figure out how to tame and control wisps. Wherever he went there were wisps following him with their ghostly white tails following behind them like octopuses, waiting to do his bidding. Now was no exception.
“Where are you, 574? Ah, there you are.” he said, noticing me at the back corner of the room. “Grelin wants you at once. Notify anyone else along the way. We are under attack.” As if on cue, I heard what I hoped was a wall crumbling. If a wall was down, that meant I had a chance to escape. But I still wasn’t leaving without a little bit of fight.
Elerith came to me and cut my bonds off. The instant he did that, I threw a shock spell at him, singing his eyebrows.
“Yeah, like I want to help you.” I retorted. It sounded lame when said out loud, but it was the best I got.
“574, do you see these wisps here?” he asked.
“You mean those wisps? They are so pale they seem afraid! Are you really trusting them?” That got Elerith’s attention.
“Well, there ‘pale wisps’ will be the reason why you obey my command! Now, come here and you won’t get hurt.” Well, it seemed I was right about the hypnotizing thing. Now that I thought of it, the battlemages only trained slaves to fight after the discovery of training wisps. Why did I never see that?
“Ishnu Va’ala.” Elerith whispered. The wisps started advancing toward me. I couldn’t breath. I backed to the edge of the wall, which wasn’t far away. “If only the room was bigger,” I muttered to myself. I then had an idea.
“Ishnu Va’ala.” I made sure to say it in the same way Elerith said it. I whispered it so quietly Elerith would have a hard time hearing me for sure. The wisps kept advancing. What had I done wrong? I whispered the same phrase over and over, my heartbeat nearly louder than my whispering. As they advanced closer, I started getting louder and louder until I was nearly screaming, but to no avail.
I could see Elerith smile his thin smile at me. I could hear cries of war in the distance. The wisps closed the distance to me, going straight through my chest and inside of me. My vision clouded and everything I heard seemed far away. I couldn’t think very well. I struggled as hard as I could, not letting my mind slip away. I thought of everything I could. I thought of my mom, who abandoned me in a forest. I thought of Fort Bemoth, which was my home and sanctuary. I thought of Grelin, who saved me from the river outside of the fort.
These aren’t your thoughts I told myself. It’s the wisps doing it. You hate Grelin. My vision started to clear. Fort Bemoth is the reason for all of your nightmares and worries. The fort is what you want to be gone. The fog in my mind was clearing, and I could hear clearly. Grelin is the reason for your slavery and the death of hundreds of people. The wisp that was inside of me popped back out, gliding away from me.
“Good, it worked.” Elerith said. My hope was drained. I really was hypnotized. But then why would I remember if I was hypnotized? I asked myself. A little bit of hope came back to me.
“Now, go to Battlemage Grelin. He will be at the boarhound stables, getting them saddled and their horns sharpened. He has brown hair and blue eyes with a scar on his cheek. He will give you your next instructions.” Elerith left with his wisps trailing behind him, undoubtedly going to hypnotize another slave.
Why had Elerith given me a description of Grelin when I knew perfectly well who he was? I thought of one answer and one answer only- I wasn’t really hypnotized. I almost laughed out loud. I probably would have if I hadn’t heard an earthshaking boom nearby from another crumbling wall.
I had a plan in mind, and decided to put my plan into action.
I ran as fast as I could to the boarhound stables, slowing only to catch my breath. I ignored all of the fighting around me. Turrets like giant crossbows were shooting at the invading Raenins and magic was being thrown, but the Raenins hadn’t come unprepared. They were shooting the same giant turrets as the defenders, aiming for the walls. It was going slowly, though, because the Puremages kept rebuilding the walls using magic.
By the time I reached the boarhound stables, Grelin was getting ready to deploy the hypnotized slaves. The boarhounds were raging against the post they were tethered at, thirsty for war. A boarhound looked like an over-sized pig with a saddle and horns. Very sharp horns. I hid my smile. This would be my only chance to get revenge on Grelin.
I ran up to Grelin, who immediately barked to me “Get onto a ‘hound and charge at them! No one lives!” Of course he would set us out on a suicide mission. Running into the Raenins on a boarhound was suicide. I have had training from Grelin on riding on a boarhound, but I wasn’t very good. I just hoped it would be enough.
I hopped onto a boarhound and followed everyone else’s example of untying the rope the boarhounds were restrained with. The instant I untied it, the boarhound bounded off toward the hole. I fought against the boarhound, tugging the reigns as hard as I could. When I started thinking I couldn't control it, it veered to the left- straight into Grelin.
The sharp turn resulted into me getting thrown off of the boarhound, but the boarhound still found its mark. It rammed straight into Grelin, its horns running straight through him. He gave a look of surprise and died. Just like that. No cry, no extra fight.
I felt a boarhound hoof stomp onto my back, and I lost consciousness.
I awoke to find myself inside a tent lined with wounded Raenins and a few slaves. I tried raising my head and winced. Not a good idea. The tent had the mark of the Raenins. Even though I had never seen it before, my mom had described it to me. The mark was a blue background with a lion on the front.
“Are you alright?” I turned my head and winced again. Do I ever learn?
“Er, yes.” I said.
The face came into view. The speaker was a man in about his fourties. He held a bottle to my lips. “Drink. It will help.” I obliged, and it felt like fire flared in my bones, but at the same time it didn’t hurt.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It is a mixture of rimroot and glorytail.” He replied. From what I learned, rimroot had healing properties, but I didn’t know what glorytail was.
"What is glorytail?" I asked.
"It is an herb that will help you sleep." I could already feel the effects of the herb. “Now sleep.” The doctor said. I did.
I slept for a whole day and night after that. After I woke up, I felt as if nothing had happened at all. It felt unusual, being able to sleep without any worry. I was so used to being in pain when I woke up, It seemed as if I were in a dream. A new doctor was tending the wounded now, much younger than the last one. I got up. I didn’t think the doctor noticed until he said “Well, good to see someone’s doing good now. One of the slaves right?”
His voice was rather relaxing, almost sounding like he wasn't dealing with dying people. I answered his question with a nod. “Do you have any family?”
“No”
“Well, go to the second tent to the right of us, with the caravan sign. You know the sign, don’t you?” I nodded again. It was red circle with two blue crosses going through it. It was known throughout the world, even to slaves like me. “Say you are an orphan and you will get a ride to the orphanage in Clerith. We will be taking back Farinth soon, and I guarantee you don’t want to be caught up any more in this war.”
“Thank you.” I said. It was the first time I could ever remember since my mom died that I said that and actually meant it. I left in a hurry, barely noticing another person from the tent get up and walk to the doctor. I didn't care about this new war that just started. I didn't care about the world around me and the training going on. I was out of the fort at last. I had escaped, and a whole new life was awaiting.
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