The People in Chains (Volas)

The surrounding land is quiet, but not silent. The leaves fall to the ground while the trees shake and rattle with the wind. Birds chirp and flutter in the background. My horse gallops along the road, its hooves mixing with the echoes of the forest, like an ocean wave crashing against itself in harmony.
The lonesome road and the natural beauty of the forest frightens me.
My journey to the mine to find answers could leave me empty-handed, finding nothing but their conditions as slaves. Maybe Rommel is right, they are just stupid beasts, unloyal to the crown and the Gods that guides us all.
My heart, however, says something different. These beasts were winning over at the west side of the island, and how could they? How can slaves, that are only born to do one thing, fight so well? I could say it’s divine punishment, but that explains nothing.
And then there’s the skull helmet at Fort Shatler being so similar to the one at the war room that I saw a few days ago. Why are they similar? How could it be similar? I guess I will only know if I talk to the slaves.
As I come near the mine, I see the place is built like a reverse fort. Watchtowers are placed around the mine, not looking outwards, but towards the mine itself.
The walls are made of basic and cheap looking sandstone, their masonry equally simplistic in its design.
The barracks for the guards being placed outside of the walls, as if they do not want to deal with the residents within the dark caverns of the mine.
This place is remarkable, defendable and reliable. How could the other mines have fallen?
I head to the stable to leave my horse. An old bald woman walks up to me carrying a black whip.
‘You must be Commander Regali? Welcome to Bravers mine. I am warden Cartus. It seems you have seen better days,’ she says while she gives a lazy salute.
Either she is mocking me, or she doesn’t know how to give formal greetings.
‘It’s good to meet you Cartus. I am here to have a tour around the mine and to talk with some Dogs,’ I explain to her.
She doesn’t need to know my full intentions.
‘I can give you a tour Commander, but I won’t let you talk to the slaves.’
‘Why not?’
‘We haven’t met our quota for the past eight months. We are putting our slaves on overtime to catch up with the late orders, so I can’t have them distracted, regardless of the reason.’
That won’t do. They have the answers to my questions. I need to understand what I am dealing with, even if it means I have to bend the rules.
‘Warden Cartus, I am here under direct orders of her majesty to understand the threat the Dogs pose over her lands. It is within my interest that I talk to the Dogs,’ I lie to her.
‘You didn’t tell me you are under direct orders, Regali. Are you hiding something from me?’
‘We are at war, Cartus. The slave menace have their claws all over the south. Sending my message to you and stating my true intentions would make this mine a target. I can’t risk that happening to me or to this mine. You must understand that we need some secrecy to keep both of us safe.’
She pauses for a moment as she formulates a response. ‘You’ve made your point Commander, I won’t let you talk to every Dog you like, but I can let you talk to the chieftain of their people. M-5:7 will be good enough to give you an idea about what they are like. Don’t be surprised if they come off as barbaric or stupid.’
‘I am aware of their cognitive limitations,’ I reply.
She escorts me down to the dark catacombs, barely lit by the lanterns hanging on the ceiling.
The clinks and clanks of iron breaking the earth apart rings through the tunnels. At every turn stands two guards, with a spear and shield by their side; they seem bored with their mundane job, standing there, waiting for something to happen.
Then, I see it. A beast taller than me, with the face of a wolf, muscles bulking as it hammers away at the hard surface. It ignores my presence. Scars covers its body, its flesh telling a story of its eternal hard work and labour.
We are fighting that? They are huge, monstrous creatures that are evidently stronger than us. But pure strength and height don’t win wars. There has to be more.
The further down the mine we go, the more of these Dogs I see, all different shapes and sizes. The largest ones having a flat face, constantly drooling as they work. Others are as tall as me, having white fur with a more elegant face and appearance.
‘Why are there so many different Dogs here? I thought there would only be one type of them per mine?’ I ask Cartus.
‘Because the women who birth our future slaves keep on dying from a rare disease. Well, non-existent anywhere else but here. It kills the mother and their child. So we have to outsource females from other mines to maintain this mine’s population. It’s tragic really.’
‘Is there a cure for it?’
‘Not that we can find,’ Cartus grumbles. ‘As far as we can tell, we will have to continue getting our women from the other mines until they grow immune to the disease or this hellhole is stripped of its value.’
We continue walking down the mine, walking past the slaves as they chip away the rock from the tunnel’s surface.
‘This is the heart of the mine, Commander.’ Cartus points to a large room, with an opening on top where natural light pours into the darkness below. Near the entrance is a platform with Dogs hanging from it. Some looking like children.
The entrance of the mine is heavily guarded, with around twenty guards scattered around, most of them on the platform itself.
She continues to guide me around the mine, showing me their forge room where the Dogs smelt down the raw materials into ingots or cylinders. Their sleeping quarters, which is just a wide tunnel that spans for miles, with tattered pieces of cloth on the floor, which seems to be their beds. Each room could house one thousand Dogs. So far they only have five rooms, per regulation, to contain their population.
We went past their fighting pit, where the Dogs settle their differences. She takes me to their food hall, graves, and a room where they grow mushrooms to eat.
All of it is brutal, an act of barbarianism that can’t be measured or compared to other races or empires. How could we call ourselves the world’s defenders if these are our slave’s living conditions?
The deeper I head into the mine we go, the more I see their work ethic. They keep going, working themselves to death to provide for our Empire. But they are unable to meet their quota. I don’t know how they couldn’t, if they are willing to keep working like they are now, they would’ve met their quota a month ago.
At one turn off, cloth hangs from one entrance as a makeshift door.
Cartus points to the room with the cloth door.
‘This is it, Regali. That’s the chieftain’s room. I will get back to my office to file paperwork. If you have any questions, just ask one of the guards.’
‘Thank you, warden,’ I wave her off as I head to the room.
As I get closer, the sound of muffled voices radiates from the room. I move the cloth out of the way to see an old, skinny Dog with red fur sitting down. Across from him is a young girl with black fur, no older than a child, with a subtle bump in her stomach.
Oh, by the Gods! She’s pregnant. How could these beasts have their own children birth kids?
‘Come back another time, friend,’ the old Dog smiles at the kid as she walks past me, her head facing down in sorrow.
‘You must be new here, master. I am Thorgan, the chieftain of the mine. What do you need?’
I keep my silence, scanning the room to notice a red painting on the wall. Six dots with symbols next to them randomly scattered on the surface, with crude letters next to them.
‘I came to ask questions, I reply to him, lowering my voice.
He smiles. ‘Of course, master, I am happy to answer any of your questions.’
‘How old is that girl?’
Thorgan’s smile turns into a frown, only for him to imitate a fake smile soon after. ‘She’s eleven. She will be due in a few months.’
‘Who’s the father?’
‘I don’t know, master, that’s why she came to me.’
I sit down in front of him. ‘Just call me Volas for now.’
‘Yes, Volas, your wish is my command.’
I point at the wall with the six dots and symbols next to them. ‘What are they? What do they mean?’
‘They are the mines where other Dogs came from. Well, where we think they came from.’
‘Can you name the mines, where some of the other slaves come from?’
‘Of course I can. Dragon, Latharus, Ruby, Onda, Hightop and finally Bravens.’
So they represent where the mines are, and perhaps the symbols could be in their own crude language. Even if the distances are off, they have a general idea of where the mines are roughly located. I’m surprised they didn’t put down any plantations.
‘Do you know anything about the disease that is going around? Killing your pregnant women and unborn kin?’ Something is off about this one. He is hiding something, but what is it?
‘I do, Volas. It’s a horrible thing that is happening,’ he says in a causal tone.
‘You speak as if it is nothing to worry about. Is there something you wish to tell me, Thorgan?’
‘No, Volas!’ He replies with a fake smile. ‘It’s just it’s so common that the tragedy of it just becomes a part of our lives.’
‘I don’t buy it! A young girl came to you just so you can ask who the father is. What are you planning to do to her?’
He gulps. ‘Nothing, I just like to know.’
‘Fair enough.’
I won’t get anything out of him if I continue on like this. I need him to open up about it.
‘So tell me, do you know anything about Dragon mine?’
‘I do. I even know who the chieftain of the mine is?’
I raise a brow. ‘You do? Who is it and how do you know?’
‘I know him by meeting his lover and others that came from that mine. So far, he is the longest lasting chieftain that I know of. His name… Oh his name.’ He clicks his fingers to remember. ‘Marak, his name is Marak. His lover’s name was May. Such a beautiful woman.’
‘What is significant about May?’ I reply to him.
‘Oh, it was tragic, really. She just gave birth to her daughter, but after she sired her first child. They took her away from her mine and brought her here to sire more children. But… no, I don’t think you want to know.’
‘No, continue the story.’ I feel this could relate to the deaths of the women here. As well as what could lead to the Dragon mine falling.
‘She didn’t take leaving her lover and child behind well. She would cry every night about her wonderful baby being taken away from her. One day, she was called in to be a mother of a new generation by the previous warden. They paired her with someone she never met. Someone she’d never loved, nor do they love her.’ Thorgan pauses, turning his head, looking towards the painted dots on the wall. ‘She carried his child, a child she didn’t want. She came to me for advice, as many others do. I tried my best to help her. But she died from the disease.’
Gotcha, I see what you did, but why? And how did you do it?
‘So you killed her?’ I reply to him.
His eyes widen. ‘No! Why would I do such a thing?’
‘Simple, really. They didn’t want the child, and clearly they didn’t seem too happy with staying here. So they came to you for help, and they either die from the disease or raise their bastard child. A disease that is only common here and nowhere else. So back to the previous question, who is the father of the girl’s child?’
Thorgan looks away as he calms himself down. ‘Her brother. Her brother is the father.’
I stand up from my spot to look outside of the room, checking if no one is listening. ‘Why did you lie to me beforehand?’
‘Because that is why she came to me, Volas. She wanted to know what she could do. If I told you, you would’ve killed me.’ He replies, holding back tears.
‘So you are planning to kill her?’
‘No! Not killing, only to help.’
I walk towards him as I draw my sword. ‘Your people allowed your children to be raped so they can carry their rapist’s child. Then you sentence others to their deaths because they didn’t want to be mothers.’ I raise my sword to strike him down.
He looks at my chest. His expression was not of fear, but of happiness.
‘You have it. Our jewel.’
I look at my chest, confused to see my necklace hanging out. Must have slipped out somehow.
‘What is important about it?’ I say to him while I lower my sword.
He breaks his gaze to face me. ‘If I tell you, please let me explain why I do what I do.’
I nod for him to continue.
‘Our people don’t allow it to happen. These pairings that the warden calls for are always random. Sometimes, family members are paired with one another. And they do not do these pairings out of love, but by force. To make our women here sire the next generation of unwanted children.’
‘So how do you kill them?’
‘Mushrooms, if you eat rotten mushrooms. You will have a painless death. But it only works on pregnant women. No one knows that but me, so that’s why the women come to me for advice. It’s because I can help end their suffering. It’s mercy.’
‘Mercy! What you are doing causes more suffering. By allowing your women to die, you indirectly caused this pairing system to happen.’
‘No Volas!’ He cuts me off, holding back tears. ‘This system was here before I was even a chief. Before I was even born. You have to understand. This is the only form of freedom we have, I beg you. Please, have a heart and understand why we do this.’
This Dog, this pathetic beast, wants mercy! From breaking the rules of the mine and wasting the Empire’s resources. I want to strike him down, to end this madness.
Yet, I can’t. I couldn’t drive my sword into him. I raise my sword but could never deliver the final blow.
‘I won’t. I won’t tell anyone what you are doing.’
Thorgan smiles as he wipes away his tears. ‘Thank you, oh thank you kind sir.’
‘Now tell me what you know about my necklace.’ I say to him.
Thorgan grabs a rock and hops up. ‘Not what I know, but what I can show.’
He bashes a rock into my chest, colliding it against the necklace. Upon the impact, the rock breaks apart and his arm flies back. I didn’t feel anything, nor did I feel off-balanced.
‘What is that?’ I ask him.
‘It was my people’s crown. I heard tales from my previous chieftain of my people’s history and culture. That necklace was our crown. Our symbol.’
I grab the blue gem to examine it. No scratches or dents. How did the Shaman get this?
‘You said you know Marak. What is he like?’
Thorgan scratches the back of his neck. ‘From what I heard, he is a respected leader. Leading by example and from the front. If he has a goal, he will achieve it.’
‘What about in a fight?’ I question him.
Thorgan picks up the shattered pieces of the rock to place it onto my hand.
‘He is ruthless. That’s how he became a chief. Through violence.’
I walk out of the room without saying anything. That is all I need to know.
If he was the one that lead the rebellion in Dragon mine and is still leading the slaves. Then we’ve got a problem on our hands. Even as slaves they are hard workers. I hate to see what they are like on the battlefield.