Rocky Situations

Only the sounds of metal hitting rock and the occasional sound of hitting and shouts could be heard here.

For years, Arvex has been made to hack away at the raw ores and rock of this large mine.

'If I remember right..I'm 19 tomorrow..' He thought to himself. The innocence in his eyes has long since been eradicated.

The hopeful, dreaming boy has vanished.

In his place?

A young Tilian, who only hopes his death comes painlessly.

"Quit slacking off!" A gruff voice shouted, followed by the sound of a smack.

Arvex grimaced in pain at the hit placed on the back of his head, yet made no comment and started swinging his pickaxe harder.

The horns on either side of his head have been shaved down to small stubs.

The scales, once a flawless mix of deep blue and black, now covered in scars and dried blood from years of accumulated pain and torture.

'Gorea..' He thought.

'This reminds of the Tales of Gorea..' A sad smile arose on his face, his swings gaining an extra amount of force that sped his ore and rock smashing along a few notches.

As he swung, he did his best to remember those stories he was told.

Gorea, a hellish landscape said to be filled with Lodraks and the scent of death.

Blood rivers and flesh mountains.

Ghoulish monsters that fed on souls.

He couldn't help but relate those stories to his current situation.

So much blood has been spilt before his own eyes, some his own, some from others.

'A small ocean could be formed from how much I've seen..' He thought, disdain in his eyes.

His only friend he has made here was the very tool he wields every day.

Everyday for 14 years.

His thin body seemed to be frail, but was slightly tone from all the work he's performed over the years.

Due to him being deemed as a Lesser Tilian, he was always treated worse then the normal Tilian slaves here.

Fed less.

Abused more.

Malnourishment quickly settled in, but they always kept him alive.

Everyone else dared not get close to the boy due to fear of being seen as "guilty by association."

'Cowards..' He thought.

'Why should I be the only one to be near death every day..?' His thoughts got louder and louder.

He slammed his pickaxe down, getting in stuck in the rock wall in the process, and held his head tight while screaming.

"Shut your trap! Get back to work!" A swift kick came to Arvex's gut, but he never stopped screaming.

This clearly didn't bode well as he continued to be kicked and hit by now 2 of the guards nearby.

"Insolent lesser being! You listen when given an order!" This gruff shout was followed by another kick to the chest.

Pop.

A bone breaking sound was heard and brought the guards to their senses as they looked at each other.

"Garvel! Quickly alert the medical unit to come pick up this lowly brat. Tell them he got in to a scuffle with some of the other slaves." The first guard, who was tall and muscular, and had a mix of different shades of green scales, called out to a random slave, who nodded quickly and ran off.

'Cowards..all of you..' Arvex thought to himself as he faded into unconsciousness.