A Rat's Fate II

I'm led like a dog on a leash through the dungeon. My legs stumble with each step, the world stays blurry and my thoughts hazy, but I've won. All they ever got from me was screams and profanities. You're welcome Ren. You better appreciate this.
The cramped halls of the dungeon suddenly expand into a wide room, filled to the brim with exotic weapons and a giant hole in the ceiling where the first light that won't try to cook me I've seen in forever pours into the room. The roaring of ten-hundred people trickle in through the ceiling light.

Shortly after, three more prisoners are drug into the armoury with me and we're put under the light onto the only bit of wood flooring this place has. The temple has gathered one of each of Solaris' demi-humans for whatever they have planned for us. The saurian and jarcoba hang their heads like they've long since given up hope. The dwarf's gaze bounces between us and he says, "Hold your heads high kids. Sol's followers are publicly announcing we're too tough for 'em. The highest compliment they can give us." 

I can't help but smile. "You don't have to tell me twice." 

My handler nods towards another human who starts turning the wheel he was standing by. The platform we're standing on begins to slowly rise with each crank and the roar of the crowd becomes more and more clear. Eventually the platform rises to another room, leading towards the temple's arena and filled with sand. I never thought I would miss the soft feeling of sand.

I stand as tall as my legs will allow as we march out into the arena to the eruption of cheers and jeers from countless humans. Almost immediately, I'm smacked across the back of the head with a rotten fruit. A few more fruits are thrown as we're lead to the centre of the arena where five posts have been staked into the sand.

I'm kicked to my knees and my arms are tightly bound to two the posts on either side of me. So tight, that I'm unable to move anything but my head.
My handler struts around us, showboating to the crowd and yelling out, "A brigand and a monster! A heretical teacher and practitioner of the dark arts! Yes, even these heinous four will serve Sol in the end."
He begins a thankfully short sermon about the inevitability of Sol, finishing with, "Let these blasphemers be marked both, in spirit and body!"

The crowd cheers. Marked how? Are the scars not marks enough? One of the other handlers asks in a deceptively sympathetic tone, "Right or left, elf?"
I respond by spitting at his feet. He looks down at the small wet mark on his robe-like pants. "Right then."

He walks out in front of me carrying an iron rod. Instead of a normal dark metal rod all the way along, at the end lies a red-hot image of the Sun. Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa, they're branding us!?
I squirm in place out of a primal panic before remembering what I've endured. I give him a confident smile. How bad could this be? I've been burned before. Sure this might be a little worse, but I can take it.

I stare the priest in the eyes as the iron approaches my chest. Time seems to move slowly as the iron closes in. Three. Two. I hear my skin sizzle like meat fallen into a fire. I smell my flesh burn. Then I realize-
I throw my head back and roar to the sky! Get it off! Get it off! I thrash and thrash! How long!?

Then it's gone. I can't see anything anymore. My vision is too blurry.
With great effort, I manage to lift my head and smile at the crowd to ruin any expectations they would've had. Then let my head fall back into its drooped state. I listen to the roars of the others on the platform.
Hey, that reminds me. What does the mark look like? A large patch of smoldering skin forms a circle over my right chest with thin lines extending out. It looks like those depictions of the Sun with a face, except the face has been replaced with charred skin.

After the dwarf on the end is branded, my handler gives a closing spiel. I can't bother to try and listen. After he's done, we're untied, dragged off, shoved into cages designed to be small for humans, and hoisted up into a tree. I guess I can rest for now. I deserve it.

By the lords, I'm uncomfortable. Oh, that's right. I've been shoved into a gibbet. My knees are crushed against my chest. The left side of course. Even the gentle breeze is sending massive amounts of pain through my brand. My head has a bit of room to move around, but I have to be scrunched up, which sends new jolts of pain through my brand.
It's dark, but it looks like I'm in one of the trees next to the temple's arena "Oi. Just because yer awake doesn't mean the rest of us want to be. How'd you end up here, kid?"

I look around and find the dwarf, almost comfortably, sitting in the cage nearest mine. "It didn't take any time at all for you to change your mind. I thought you wanted to sleep?"

"I like talkin' more than I like sleeping. Now answer the damn question before I show you where I hide my stones."

I... I'm not sure I want to know what he means. He's very clearly old. The parts of his face that aren't covered in a white hacked-off beard or hair are instead smothered in wrinkles. "I got in a dispute with a merchant. Then antagonized the templars who interrogated me."

Without a moment's rest he says, "You a bastard? What for?"

Tsk. Annoying old coot. You're in the same situation as me. What do I tell him? He could spill any information I give him to the templars. Maybe just a vague answer will do. "I have my reasons."

He offers an understanding nod. "A segugek bastard then."

As he turns to face the cage behind him, I call out with more irritation than I intended. "What did you just call me?"

He lets out a confused grunt. "Oh. Segugek. It means delinquent in Karazikrid, my native language."

I sigh. "I see. Well, I guess it's not the worst thing I've been called."

For someone who looks like he's been in prison awhile, he has a surprising amount of bulk on his arms as he gives me a thumbs up. It's easy to tell when he turns around thanks to his giant ears. "What about you lizard?"
I assume he's talking about the saurian. I can't imagine he's talking to a gecko or something unless he's already gone senile. Saurians are the giant lizard men that usually live down river. After the saurian doesn't answer for a second, the dwarf calls out, "Oi. Lizard."

A growling sigh emerges from behind the dwarf. "I believe you said, 'Just because you're awake doesn't mean we want to be?' "
His voice would be terrifying if it wasn't coming from a cage. Deep and there's a natural growl to it. I can't see him from behind the dwarf's cage.

He persists. "Sleep is for the old 'nd feeble. We ain't got much time. Might as well spend it makin' friends."

Another growling sigh. "Zuwald'Xith."
I don't think I can recreate those sounds. "Just call me Wal. It's easier for warm bloods to pronounce. I scared a bunch of humans, they reported me to the temple, I fought off some templars."

I speak up. "You fought off templars? I thought demi-humans weren't allowed to carry weapons."

"I don't live here. I was passing through and stopped for a night. Didn't realize I could be imprisoned for being scary."
Unlucky bastard. "Dwarf. Speak."

He laughed then coughed. Probably due to the branding. "Ye don't have to tell me twice segulf."

Wal interrupted, clearly annoyed. "I gave you a name, yet you insist on calling me something else?"

The old man, unperturbed by Wal's comment gave him a parsley excuse. "I'm a kazarah, segulf. It's my job to give the youngins names. Anyway, I was teaching the youngin's old dwarven customs. Including the Kalth gods. Temple didn't like that much once they found out. Kalth, who the world is named after, is a stoic-"
Now he's rambling. And still no name. Annoying old coot. I am a little curious about the dwarven religion, but I'm more interested in the jarcoba.

Jarcoba are the race of dog folk that mostly live in the southern part of Solaris. We did have a few in New Town though. I look away from the rambling dwarf to the cage left of me. It's... Empty? No, I can't see the bars on the other side. How dark is his fur? When he moves his head, it startles me. I explain, "Sorry, I was trying to see if you were in there."

It looks like his head whips around to look behind him before looking back at me. He laughs nervously and I'm able to see the knives he has for teeth. When he finally speaks, it comes out as a hiss. "Yeah, I've been told I'm unusually dark."

I wait for an uncomfortable amount of time for an introduction. Guess I should ask? "What's your name?"

"Oh! Right. Uhh. My name is Maheed. Sorry, I'm not used to uhh. Yeah."

Damn it, he made me chuckle. That hurts damn it. He reminds me of Ren when we first met. He was a nervous loner kid who couldn't really talk to people. "The name's Kar'Desh. How'd you end up here with us?"

He shifts in his cage as he speak-hisses at me. "Well uhh. I claimed I could talk to spirits and was captured because they thought I was a necromancer."
I think a necromancer is someone who raises the dead. That makes sense. He sure acts like one. Well. What I imagine one would act like.

Just before I could ask why, we all turned to look at a rustling in the tree. Too big to be a bird or something. Someone is climbing the tree. The old man softly calls out to the tree climber. "Oi kid. What are you doing? Get down before a priest sees you. They don't take kindly to people climbin' their trees."

"Sorry. I'll be quick." I'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Ren, what are you doing here? Get your stupid ass out of here."

He strains each word as he climbs the tree to my branch. "I come. Bearing gifts."
He sits on my branch and displays a yellow fruit from the bag he was carrying. That stupid idiot! He brought the stolen fruits here!

Instead of calling him an idiot like I wanted to, my mouth simply said, "It's good to see you. How'd you find us anyway?"

"Nick told me... Set me free once he saw you in the arena. Said I was useless alone."

Bet Nick was the asshole who hit me with the food. "I told you I'd get us out of his employ." 

Ren can't help but laugh. "I always knew your plans were bullshit."

I say, "You really shouldn't be here though. If you get caught-"

"I can't just sit by after... That. Even though I can't free you, I still want to do something." He scooches forward on the branch and places the fruit in my outstretched hand. The only part of my body that can escape the cage.
"Your mom's been freaking out. All she knows is that some templars came to New Town and now you're gone. She's been coming to my house twenty times a day to see if we know anything."

I mutter to myself. "Yeah, I bet she has."
I've been trying not to think about it too much but... I turn back to Ren as best I can. "Have you told her anything?"

I can hear him hang his head. "No. I couldn't bring myself to tell her."

"Tell her I'm fine. Tell her that I got into an argument with the templars and now I'm forced to work for them."

"Got it. I'll be back tomorrow."

He scoots back and crawls through the tree, handing a fruit to each of the cages. The dwarf perks up. "The kid has a heart. How'd ya let segugek become such a bastard?"

I sigh. "He means me."

Ren laughs quietly as he passes out the fruit. "Trust me, we all tried. He's good to the people he likes, so I figure that's enough."

"Are you kidding? That's like saying he eats when he's hungry. That ain't an achievement."

I scoff. "Says the person who's keeping us awake."

"I'm old. I'm allowed to be cranky."

Tsk. Annoying old coot. The argument continues in the background as I take a bite of my fruit. It's just as terrible as I remember. My face scrunches up and contorts with each bite. I don't think I've ever had something so delicious. I think I'll start calling my new favourite food a yellow. Ren hands out the last yellow to Maheed and leaves. "See you later Ren. Thanks for everything."

I'm not sure what 'everything' is, but it felt right. As soon as Ren disappears into the nearby alleys the old coot looks at me. "Stones curse it all, what is this thing? It tastes like.... In all my years and I can't even describe it."

I laugh. Damn it, that hurts. "Neither could I. I just call them yellows."

With a strong hint of doubt, all three of my cage-mates repeated, "Yellows?"

Wal spoke past the old coot. "You can't call a food by its colour. If xhautls were called green-reds, no one would know what you're talking about."

I share a quick look with the dwarf before we both say, "We don't know what you're talking about now."

I hear a growling snort from the other side of the tree followed by an annoyed, "Warm bloods."

Maheed gags as he eats the fruit. "What if we just called them poisons? That's what it tastes like."

We argued for a long while about what to call those terrible fruits. In the end we settled on a easier version of Wal's weird fruit. Atels.
The following few days were spent like that. I finally got the dwarf to reveal his name. He called himself Naz Karazah. I guess his job became part of his name? If Naz wasn't sharing stories about his students he was arguing with me while Wal called us stupid and Maheed desperately tried to get a word in. I noticed Naz doesn't tell any stories about his own kids, but decided to leave it be.
The temple's arena is directly connected to their cathedral, so we get significant 'entertainment' in the form of observing priestly duties. Then Ren would arrive after the Sun retreated and we'd gratefully eat our atels.
I figured out that Maheed looks almost exactly like a dog with slick black fur. Except normally he stands on two legs. He also has an extra layer of fur on his back that runs up all the way to his head. It constantly covers his entire back, shoulders and eyes. And he's always smiling. At least that's what his dogish face looks like.
According to Naz, Wal has blood-red scales and dark grey horns that could gore a bull. Then a few other embellishments that make him sound like a demon from some legend. Not sure how much I believe from his description.

There's a lot of people here today. I know the humans are supposed to gather at the temple to offer food or money or whatever on a certain day. I guess that's today? Naz looks at the massive crowd and scoffs. He says, "The Kalth gods would never demand tithes. They have no need for 'em. This whole event ain't nothing but a sham."

From behind Naz, Wal says, "Tithes? That isn't normal practice for the temples in the East. The humans running this temple must be greedy."

I chime in with, "Wouldn't surprise me. It'd be awfully easy to control a population when you have all their money."

I watch from the comfort of my cage the rich humans mingle with the even richer humans, presumably attempting to strike a trade deal or scrounge up some favours. I suppose this is a good opportunity for that. There's even vendors set up, selling out their goods and games prepared for the children not permitted in the cathedral. Suddenly, the crowd takes interest in a particular woman, surrounding her and making friendly gestures. Even the small fighting rings, that were just raging with spectators, suddenly feel empty as their attention shifts. The woman's knights keep the crowd under control, only letting one or two merchants through at a time. The princess of Solaris, patiently speaks with each of them.
This is actually a really good opportunity for them. For some reason that pisses me off. Through her, they'll have connections to the most powerful person in Solaris. The most powerful person...
That gives me an idea.