Princeps

World turned into heaven as he opened his eyes. The sensations, overloading all of his senses, rocked his mind, which was still throbbing with heaviness in these first moments of consciousness. The blueness of the sky, which during his earliest childhood was a rare sight, was now melding in his muddled field of view with the emerald green edges of the distant forest. He saw tree trunks turned into timber before, and they had told him what a tree was, but he never saw a forest, never the green vastness which was coveting the sky. However, other, more pressing issues were occupying his attention, multiplying the initial shock.

He couldn’t understand where he was, nor the circumstances which got him there. The fairy-tales of a better, more beautiful world which were regularly told to pass the day in the gloomy underground, making it bearable, have suddenly come true. Basking in sunlight, the luxuriously carved woodwork of the bed on which he lay, the nearby table, chests and the ceiling support beams were instilling the awe of being at the place which was forbidden. Finally collected, Atef started examining his unexpected surroundings. The light-blue thin bedsheets were soaked in sweat and urine forcing him to finally move. Stepping cautiously out of the bed, positioned opposite to the door, he tested his legs and then proceeded with inspecting his whole body. A crude hemp summer shirt, customary for a field worker, was scratching his shoulders and the whip markings on his back. The wrists and ankles were pulsing with pain as if they were tied down for days. He couldn’t find any dust, dirt or soot on himself.

Pressured by this new reality, his mind started to collapse and retreat inwards. He jumped away from the bed to a corner directly below the painting of a noble garbed in a tad too perfectly clean hunting gear. The light was inflicting pain, the surprise was turning into a panic attack. His gaze was shifting around the room violently, similarly to that of a cornered wounded beast aware of its impending death. He started shaking. A fiery substance, insignificant in size, akin to a boiling sphere sprung from his open palm.

The masterfully carved falcon adorning the right side of the bedframe burst into flame with a crackling explosion of wood. Atef lost all blood in his face observing the small blaze. It took him several moments before his sense of self-preservation prompted him that it will grow quickly into a conflagration.

- Fire, fire! – he cried out with the crackling voice of an early teenager which always breaks at the moment when it is the least expected of it.

A cry back, response, or salvation didn’t come from anywhere. Emboldened with adrenaline, Atef jumped over the piss-soaked bed and hobbled to the wide opened door at the far side of the room which led to a balcony. Blinded, he inhaled deeply ready to scream again when a fierce, commanding shriek froze him still.

- Stop! Get away from there and stay in a corner! – Three men under the command of an intimidating looking overseer doused the flame with water from buckets, finishing off the remnants of the fire with a heavy piece of cloth. Begrudgingly cursing over the destroyed property, the overseer ordered the servants to step away before taking a good look at Atef. Scared, but thankful for his salvation Atef kept silent.

- Master – he finally spoke, accustomed to granting this title to everyone of higher stature since the moment he learned his first words – ‘scuse me. Something is broke with me! I… I know nadda how I did this! I … I never wouldda do such a thing! I know nadda how I got here, I nadda good for this palace place. Look at me! I am slave, undergrounder, rat! – He supplemented his pleading with a drop to his knees, cryingly awaiting a spiked club or something worse.

The overseer continued examining him for a while more. The authoritatively looking figure chose not to escalate the situation. He spoke up with an ordering tone. Fit for a person who is obeyed by his servants without question.

- Fear not boy! The chosen one is not to be punished. And whatever happened here… is a coincidence, an unfortunate series of events – he said, pointing a finger at the crisp-burnt side of the bed and the blackened bed sheets. – It happened to us before, oh yes.

Atef looked confused. He remembered clearly that a burst of flame extended out of him uncontrollably. With a slight slanting of his head, he indicated he didn’t understand the explanation.

The overseer spotted instantly this gesture and his eagerness to hear more in the wincing of the boy’s ears, so he continued with his explanation:

- The burnt wood is from Amal. When it is cut down and its innards carved, it has to be preserved with special oils and varnishes so that it doesn’t catch fire. It is truly beautiful but the sunlight taxes it easily. I am afraid that your extended illness precluded us from moving you so that the craftsmen could put on a new coat. Though worry not. As I said, no punishment will befall you.

Atef, appeased a bit, yet still wary, started paying attention to the looks of the overseer. The man who stood next to the bed, blocking the exit from the divine room, was taller than him by his head which was losing hair, although he tried to hide the fact by shaving the remaining patches. He looked as a person who passionately takes care of his thin black moustache which was sprawling away from the face, twisted at the ends. The initial sense of threat that Atef felt in the backdrop of his voice was slowly fading away under the influence of his appearance. His light red shirt made out of Perlesian cloth, decorated with black cords along the sleeves and the trousers which were fit for a king sealed the deal for Atef.

- How am I, as master says, chosen fella’? – he said with a voice of a simple-minded obedient youth bereft of any meaningful life experience. – And if it pleases the master, coulda I know his name? Who shouldda I forever praise?

- Togrin is the name you should use Atef. It is my duty to bestow you, the chosen, with the knowledge necessary for your new life. I suppose you never heard of Melen’s edict?

- How do you know my name master Togrin? And what is edict? Was that Melen fella’ someone really important, to have own edict?

Amused, Togrin tackled this questions before many more would flood up the conversation: - Melen was an Emperor, of day long passed. He was a young man on a military campaign when he was captured. Slaved away, that’s what he did, until the end of the Four-Cornered Border War. The old books say he was forced to do things, things any heir to the throne would never do. That changed him, deeply, chiseled away and dented his character! Remade him into a ruler, stern and decisive towards the nobility and charitable to the simple folk. A rare trait indeed which led to one of his later years’ law. The one simple folk named Melen’s edict out of  pure adulation. Ehm, adulation... better say... joy. The very one you are the benefactor of. A simple scroll which says the slaves can be made free and rewarded for their contribution to building our Empire! That’s why you are chosen Atef!

The boy was visibly confused, grasping short of the high-talk the overseer used, while simultaneously digging through his memory of all stories and fairytales he listened to in rare moments of respite. None of them even vaguely referring to what he’d just heard came to mind. – But I grew up with slaves, from our pits no one ever left except in flame – a sudden realisation overtook his train of thought. – Maybe ... maybe no one was good enough, ever? Maybe I am the first one? – a burst of cautious wondering started jumping around his head next.

- But I am a rat, I scurry through the tunnels and small holes. This big I swear – he showed. - I tell chiefs where to dig and best I ever gotta is better slop from the pot. And that only ‘cause I found a vein of gled, a big’un. Chief told me it’s a pricey crystal. Very, very pricey – he chirped finishing his life’s story. – And no one in the pit ever gotten rewarded. Just toil, suffer, and in the end… death – he abruptly questioned, quickly thereafter realising he should fear his new master, especially if he has a proclivity for punishment.

- How the great ones decide is not up to us to question. – Togrin advised the young slave with a fatherly tone. – I, such as yourself, have a master and, fate… the fate they craft, has picked you to head into the world free and provisioned – he concluded with pride for the generosity of the master he serves.

- Provisioned, wha’? – asked Atef stumped with another of the high-talk words.

- With all the things you will ever need so that you never think of your awful past. But first, you have to spend some time here. You will need a place to live in a nearby town and you’ll need to learn not to cower from everything and everyone. I will teach you. You said it, you lived in a pit. Have you ever…seen daylight, wandered nature?

- I… I remember vaguely, yes, as a wee boy… though it is all far away memories. I was out, small, before my mama died – he tried summoning his earliest recollections – but as soon, as soon I could lift a rock, they put me in the pit. She drew her last breath by then. Since, I was allowed to hop out only when the chiefs were celebrating and even then… it was naked rock and bad land for as far ye can look. And behind, the pit’s hole … like a giant maw that chomps.

- The great accomplishments of our Empire unfortunately demand great sacrifices – he replied with the backdrop of empathy, although the firmness of his voice sounded approving of the world in which some endlessly suffer while others build palaces which scream towards the sky, threatening its conquest.

- Alas, you must be exhausted, yearning all foods and drinks that are in this world! He stepped towards him with his arm stretched out, inviting the boy. – Come with me, treats aplenty I have in the kitchen to show you. I guarantee you haven’t tried any of them.

Taking a step back instinctively, the boy looked behind for an instant towards the blazing balcony. He barely overcame the drive to jump away and plunge into the unknown. Instead, with needles running down his spine, he decided to take up the offer. Walking through his new sanctuary, the hope for nourishment was quickly overtaken by admiration for what he could see. It was the first time he sensed it with such force, which blew away the pain in the stomach and parched tingling in his throat. The inside of the palace was in no lack of mosaics portraying what the artists considered the ideal countryside life. To the everyman’s eye the palace was, in fact, the summer residence of an insignificant noble who, apart from the room that Atef partially destroyed, could afford at best just one more in the building of such stature. That same eye would also observe the chambers for preparing food and where servants sleep within the villa. If perchance the owner organised a midsummer night party, the noble invitees would definitely see too much of the common folk for their taste. “Scandalous indeed! Mixing like that with those below them!” – would be bellowed endlessly at noble gatherings in the city.  Atef, however, only experienced the sense of dread from the emptiness of the large atrium.

- Where are all the workers, all the servants? Everything seems, so empty! In the pit there was always a lump of us. Have to curse and threaten to get around when you are pushing back ore carts. Master knows? I was lucky, far from the stench and heap. The chiefs wouldda throw me in all the cracks and dug ups to see if something sparkles.

- Sur and Baor are still up in the sky and as long as they are up there everyone here work just like you did in the mines.

- Are they slaves too?

- No, but they lack courage and smarts to leave – Togrin spat out with a sliver of contempt in his voice, abruptly ending the discussion.

Stepping into the kitchen, Atef, sniffing already from afar, sensed for the first time a blend of what he considered divine scent. Fresh peasant bread, baked this morning, was awaiting him in pieces on the table. More than half was missing, but there was still more than enough for him. Next to it lay some olive oil, hard cheese and cured meat which looked like a challenge to chew.

- Get to work – Togrin advised stepping for a moment towards the other door in the kitchen to access the pantry. The boy first craved to quench the thirst which was bothering him since he woke up. He grabbed a simple wooden cup from the table at the back of the kitchen and filled it in a water bucket placed on a three-legged stool. It was left just high enough so that any animals prowling about cannot defile the water. The water was still cold and Atef gulped a fair amount before he proceeded to eat. Gluttonous chomping lasted for a fair half of an hour. Atef felt his body restoring. The pain throughout his body was slowly seeping away, dissipating ahead of the onset of happiness triggered by these new tastes. This newly acquired freedom started appealing to him. At the end of the meal, Togrin came back with an identically examining look on his face as before and his right hand hidden behind his back. Boy’s previous experiences reined in his mind and he jerked in the chair ready to jump away and start fleeing. The hand appeared, and in it was a small orange ball with a wrinkly peel.

- Wha’s that?

- They call it an orange. Wait for a moment and I will peel it for you so you can taste it. The peel snapped under the pressure of Togrin’s fingers, releasing an intoxicating smell through the kitchen. Atef wished that his days from now on smell only of oranges.

- You see how it captured Sur’s sunlight in itself?

The boy devoured the golden entrails with delight licking his juice drenched fingers. He bit it as he would an apple. Togrin smiled fatherly and told the boy to try splitting the orange into small strips along its curves the next time. Atef nodded and slouched his shoulders. Digestion overtook him. The nervous overload from this morning and sluggishness from so much food was pushing his eyelids down.

- Seems like it is the time for respite from everything. Follow me. They must have fixed up the room by now. It will do you good to rest there until you finally recover – he ordered with a mesmerising tone. Atef’s way back passed in a heartbeat and the only thing he remembered the next morning was the clicking of the door’s lock as he dove into slumber.