Dead But Never Broken

The cohort of slaves went about their work in uncanny silence, their minds heavily weighing on what they'd seen this morning. They may have not been directly responsible for the child's death but knowing they could have spoken up last night when the nutrients he so dearly needed were stripped from him by the brute made them truly realise how low they all had fallen.

Leon himself was feeling incredibly guilty even though he knew he couldn't have done anything and being the next target of the brute would put his own life on a count-down.

His entire body strained as he continuously brought the pickaxe over his head and down onto the rock, chipping away small chunks, he adjusted his hands on the pickaxe...

A splinter from the handle dug into his hand and caused Leon to yelp in pain, dropping the pickaxe onto the cold rock and the rattle it caused echoed throughout the chamber.

Leon's eyes widened in horror.

'Fuc-'

He didn't get to finish that thought as a blinding sting struck his back and caused him to let out an airy scream as he dropped to the floor, Leon felt the warmth of his blood as it trickled down his back and tried to scramble quickly back to his feet before he suffered another crack of the whip.

Tears pooled in his eyes and fell on his cheeks as his bloody hands gripped the pickaxe once again and he brought himself to his feet, not daring to look back at the guard and carried on mining the rock whilst the tears fell from his eyes.

The guard let out a grunt and continued his patrol down the section, looking to unleash his whip once again on anyone who stepped out of line.

"Are you okay?"

Leon turned to the low voice that sounded by his side, he'd seen this man before, he was part of his cohort of slaves and was a tall man with a decent build looking to be around 30 years old. His skin was slightly tan in contrast to Leon's sickly pale tone from not seeing sunlight in months due to being held captive whilst he healed in the 'storage' of the auction house. Looking up at his eyes, Leon saw his big brown eyes that displayed a hint of warmth amongst the sadness which matched his messy short brown hair.

The eyes of all the slaves told a different story, some still held some semblance of sanity and humane warmth but were slowly breaking whilst others had a glassy, lifeless look, evident that they had abandoned all hope and were essentially living corpses, working like a machine until they inevitably dropped dead.

Leon nodded at the man and gave him a half-hearted smile.

The man gave him one back before looking around and checking if any guards were in the area; confirming that there weren't any around he continued to try talking to Leon.

"The name's Andrew."

"Leon."

The latter replied in an airy, unpleasant sound that made Andrew's gaze drop from his eyes to his throat and a frown appeared on his face as he noticed the long scar running across the boy's throat.

"Is tha-"

"I did it myself." Leon curtly replied, shifting uncomfortably due to the conversation topic.

"Ah..."

Andrew didn't quite know what to say, he looked at this frail young boy with pity in his eyes. What has to happen for a child who couldn't be older than 9 years old to try to take his own life.

Either way, he knew it wasn't a good idea to push the boy on the subject so he tried to switch the topic:

"You're swinging the pickaxe wrong, it's why it's doing more damage to your hands than it is the rock."

Leon tilted his head in confusion as he thought to himself.

'Is there any right way to swing this thing?'

Seeing Leon's confusion, Andrew decided to show him an example. He told him how to grip the pickaxe and the motion to use to more efficiently transfer his energy to the hard rock walls.

Leon mirrored his technique and to his surprise found himself breaking more rock off than his previous attempts as well as despite still being very uncomfortable, the wooden shaft of the pickaxe didn't bite into his hands as much as before.

He turned back to Andrew with a slightly more enthusiastic smile.

"T-Thank you..."

Andrew gave him a thumbs up and a toothy grin.

"No worries, us slaves got to stick together right?" He replied, his stone getting a bit sad when he passed over the word slave.

"Why do you know about mining?" asked Leon, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Andrew seemed to reminisce a bit when Leon asked him, his mind travelling through his memories of his younger years.

"I was once a blacksmith, I even crafted weapons for the academy in Renbrandt once..."

Leon's eyes widened in shock, an academy? An academy was a school for special children.

"Are you... one of them?" asked Leon, a hint of uneasiness in his raspy voice.

Andrew looked at the kid in disbelief for a second before covering his mouth and letting out a muted chuckle.

"Haha... good one kid, you think if I was that... Well, I wouldn't be here now would I?"

Leon nodded in response, the glimmer of hope shattering as soon as it emerged, there was no way someone who could face their master, Qasem, would be down here with them.

The two turned back to the rock walls and mined in silence for the rest of the day before Hector came and adjourned them for the day.

***

Leon sat by Andrew as they ate and drank, a few conversations between slaves who still had some sanity could be heard around the room.

The brutish slave even kept to himself for the day, an expression of guilt across his face as he picked at his food.

Andrew finished his rations long before Leon and let out a sigh as he looked down at his empty hands with a sad expression.

Leon saw this out the corner of his eye and tore off part of his stale bread roll and placed it in Andrew's hands.

Andrew turned to the boy in shock, completely perplexed.

"For the help today..." Leon said, not turning to look at Andrew as he continued to munch what was left of the roll.

"Ah... thanks kid..." Andrew replied, his eyes tearing up and he picked at what he was given, tears pooling in his eyes.

It had been a long time since anyone showed him some kindness.

Leon and Andre both finished the rest of their meals and sat in silence as the noise around them died down as people started to go to sleep.

Andrew turned to his bedframe before scratching a line in the post with his fingernail.

"What are you doing?" asked Leon with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh... just counting the days, I don't want to lose track of time down here... that and I think it helps keep me sane." Andrew replied sadly.

Leon frowned at Andrew's response, was it worth keeping your sanity and prolonging your pain with no hope for anything else other than a slow painful death down in this shithole?

"Why? What's the point? We're all going to die here."

Andrew turned to Leon with a dejected face.

"I know... I just don't want to give those bastards the satisfaction of breaking my will."

Leon nodded, a hopeless last stand of defiance, it was an admirable stance.

Yet he didn't really agree.

"A walking deadman has no need for a will..." Leon said rather rudely in response.

Andrew was somewhat taken aback by the cold response of an 8-year-old but didn't let it show on his face.

"I may be dead, but I'll never break." Andrew said resolutely, the fire of defiance burning in his gaze.

Leon looked at the man once last time before turning away on his bed, whilst not outwardly displaying it, the words left a deep impact on the young child.

'Dead but never broken...'

The words resounded over and over again in his head as his weariness overtook him and he fell asleep once again.