The Servant Of The Empire

Night soon arrived and the corrupted bustling of the city reduced drastically, only thieves and guards were found anywhere on the now dangerous streets, since at times like this did the crime happen.

Deep inside the city, in a shop. Several men, women, and children lay inside cages. Their hands are tied to their back with the chain trailing from their necks to their feet.

Their bodies were scarred from wounds they gad acquired from their masters. They lay helplessly. The next day was the biggest market day in the city. A day that would define their future.

Among them was a young man. Black hair, and red soft eyes that spoke greatly of his innocence. He was tied next to the old man, struggling to withstand the cold of night. He stayed out silently watching the moon through a hole in the metal wall.

The back of his throat burned as tears stung in his eyes. In a hoarse and gravelly voice, he whispered. "W..why me?"

Since his birth, his life had been in the hands of others. It was his life yet he had no right to make a choice for himself, whether he lived or died was decided for him.

"What is your name child," the old man asked. Opting for small talk to get the young man's mind away from his troubling thoughts.

The old man had been through that many times. It wasn't new to him hence he wasn't as scared as the young man seemed to be.

"A..Adnan," the young man spoke not getting his eyes away from the moon.

"Can I offer you some advice, Adnan?" the old man inquired. Adnan nodded his head. Not that he thought the advice would help his case. He was a slave, no advice in the world would change his destiny. "Don't hold expectations. It will hurt more if you do," the old man advised.

Adnan blinked. His attempts to stop the tears in his eyes from flowing down his eyes failed immensely. He closed his eyes, he crossed his fingers.

He didn't worry about where he ended up or with whom. Adnan hoped wherever it was, the people there would have the decency to treat him like a human being.

They shouldn't treat him like an object. To be seen and not heard. To be spotted around and not felt.

It was his one desire. Adnan prayed hard with all his might to the moon. For it to grant his one wish and save him from monsters that existed in human form.

He feared he was way too fragile for such cruelty. The old man watched him, other slaves his age were weeping and crying aloud. Yet Adnan hadn't opened his mouth except for the one whisper he heard from the male.

It hit him his cruel the world was. Teaching young people how to hold their voices. It was hard for him to watch it, being as helpless as Adnan, he turned his eyes away.

Adnan masked out all the sounds around him. He created a bearable illusion in his mind to get his mind out of his present situation.

He imagined standing in a field, staring at the free birds flapping their wings in the clouds above him. The chains in his hands were good bangles, ones that shimmered with the rays of the sun. His hair was combed in place with a crown on his head.

He wasn't a king of a kingdom but rather a king of his own life. Adnan imagined having the freedom to move around as he pleased, without restrictions or laws that dictated every little detail of his life. Down to how he should breathe, how loud he was permitted to talk, or what he was allowed to eat.

In that field, there were numerous trees. Trees that had many different types of fruits beyond his imagination.

He ran around the field, feeling the wind hitting his face. The breeze was refreshing, unlike anything that he had ever had the privilege of feeling. Adnan brushed his hands over flowers, taking in different scents in the air.

Scents wafted all around him. Beating the smell of metal that he was used to. A smile bloomed on his face. His eyes shined with joy, as compared to the tears that trickled down his face.

With such beautiful thoughts, Adnan fell into slumber. In his heart, Adnan wanted to believe that out there in the world there was someone who needed him. Someone who would give his life meaning and erase the tag of being a slave from his body.

Giving him the freedom of running around freely without chains on his body. It was wishful thinking, however, it was the only way for him to bear the pain of his reality.

He slept off.

At dawn~

On the outskirts of the city, a rider was making his way into the city. Riding a black horse at high speed, racing with time to get his task done.

The rider is dressed in a black leather armor suit with marching boots. His sword was strapped to the belt around his waist, with a small pack at his back. His face was hidden behind a black mask that covered half of his face. Making it hard to see who he was.

He tightened his hands around the ropes and accelerated his speed. It was as though he was flying. Covering large distances in minutes.

Soon, he found himself at the gates of the city. The guards marched in front of the gates and raised their hands, hailing him to stop. For verifications before he enters the city.

The rider removed a letter from his pocket. He pulled the horse to a halt for a moment, he handed the letter to one of the guards. "I'm here on behalf of the king," he informed them. His green eyes stared sharply at the guard as the man inspected his letter.

"Open the gates," the guard shouted. "Welcome to our city," he let out returning the letter to the masked rider.

The man took the letter back. He kept it safely inside his pocket before returning to his journey.

Two guards rode after him. He didn't ask for it, however, it was a law that if a messenger of the king were to enter any of the cities in the empire then he/ she was to be escorted and granted all aid to achieve their task or mission.

The masked rider didn't mind the company, however, it didn't stop him from riding at a stunning speed. Shows the city guards his dust and losing them around the alleys of the city.

As much as he didn't mind them following him. He preferred to fulfill his task without eyes on him. The queen mother wouldn't have sent him if she didn't wish for the matter to be handled discreetly.