Soul's Eye

Chapter 5: Caged

~Abel Ahren~

A few years ago, a man arrived in our city, barely alive.

He was a mercenary.

Imposing, his scarred, muscular body told the story of a thousand battles. He intrigued me. He was a mercenary. He was always on his guard, even towards my father, who had welcomed him. He wouldn't let anyone approach him.

Yet he was incredibly strong. His talents far surpassed those of ordinary soldiers, and my father offered him a place in the army as chief of the guards, but he refused.

I didn't understand.

It didn't make sense to me. Why would he refuse such an opportunity? Driven by curiosity one day, I followed him to the meadow where he was training, far from the city, and asked him about it.

His answer troubled me more than I wanted to admit; each time I thought of it, it troubled me more and more.

On that day, he looked at me with a melancholy expression, smiled understandingly and said calmly,

"The world is vast, young lord. Vast and magnificent. In this world, there are so many things to discover and so many people to meet. That's why I can't stay. I want to see more of this vast world."

At that moment, his eyes shone with such intensity and were filled with such life and conviction that I began to dream too.

I wished I could discover the world too and thought that maybe one day my eyes would shine like his.

But today, my eyes must look empty and cold. After all, I'd lost everything.

It was cold. The place I was in was dark and cramped. The floor was hard and I was wrapped in a slippery blanket.

My hands and feet were tied, and I was gagged.

The situation was bad, but judging by the state of my body after the 'fight', they had taken care of me. Otherwise, I would already be writhing in pain. A small relief.

I began to analyse my surroundings.

We were on the move. I was sure of it. The ground was shaking and the terrain was uneven. A vehicle. The loud engine noise pierced my eardrums and the smell of steel, blood and fuel saturated the air.

It was making it difficult to breathe.

I was in a car. Or at least, a motorised one.

Amidst the engine's roar, I heard something. A fainter sound, drowned out by the noise... Crying.

Someone else is here.

A shiver ran through me. I felt a mixture of sadness, relief and guilt.

They must be residents of my city — perhaps even family members. I struggled, pulling at my bonds with all my might. The rope dug into my burnt skin like an invisible whip, lacerating my flesh.

I knew it was no use. My bonds were too strong. But I just wanted to escape this helplessness. This gnawing weakness. I wanted to stop thinking.

Tears slid down my face, but I couldn't bring myself to utter a sound. My features remained frozen.

I felt empty.

I retched with an overwhelming sense of disgust. I couldn't hold it in. I vomited through my gag.

The hot liquid seeped through the fabric, making it difficult for me to catch my breath. The acrid smell of bile made me dizzy.

I was suffocating.

Then everything went black.

I woke with a start, having been awoken by a shrill scream.

"Again?!" exclaimed a female voice, imbued with undisguised frustration.

"It's vomit, Lady Vanneli," a timid male voice replied.

"Who's it from? And don't use this name."

Without waiting for an answer, she advanced towards me and I heard her heels clicking on the metal of the vehicle.

I felt a violent kick to my abdomen that threw me against the vehicle's wall.

Pain exploded inside me. The air left my lungs in a muffled groan.

"Take him with the others. I'll see them later if they survive."

Without warning, the bag I was in was lifted and carried off to an unknown location.

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After a few minutes of being dragged along, the sound of creaking steel pulled me out of my reverie and back to the present.

The air was heavy and saturated with the smell of sweat and dried blood.

The shock of the impact had taken my breath away and left an iron taste in my mouth.

My numb muscles refused to respond immediately. The bag enveloping me was ripped open with brutal force and I fell to the cold, rough ground.

Indistinct silhouettes around me barely moved. Broken moans and hoarse breaths filled the air. The room was plunged into semi-darkness, lit only by a thin trickle of light seeping in under a metal door.

I tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain shot through my back and ribs. I was suffocating, trying to calm the tremors running through my body.

A faint murmur rose, like interspersed breaths:

"Are you alive?"

I turned my head with difficulty. Someone had approached: a dirty-skinned teenager with hollowed-out eyes, drained of all emotion. He stared at me without emotion, as if he had seen too many people like me to care.

"What the..." I managed to say in a hoarse voice.

"It's the cage." His voice was almost detached, as if he were stating a banal fact.

"If you're here, you've been lucky. For now."

Lucky? I almost burst out laughing. At what point could I have been lucky? If we had been, we wouldn't be here in the first place.

I wanted to scream these words, along with my hatred, but I held back and let him continue.

A metallic, resonant sound echoed through the corridor. Instinctively, all the prisoners froze. No one spoke, no one moved.

Heavy footsteps approached.

My heart pounded in my chest and I felt anguish seep into me like an icy poison, paralysing my limbs.

The door opened with a shrill creak. A stronger glow briefly flooded the room, revealing emaciated faces and bodies weakened by days or perhaps weeks of captivity.

A figure entered.

"You two, stand up!"

Two prisoners were seized ruthlessly. They did not resist — they lacked both the strength and the courage. One of them, a young man, was trembling violently.

Like a leaf struck by the wind.

"No... no... please..." he stammered.

A brutal blow silenced him. Then they were dragged from the room. The door closed with a thud.

Silence returned.

I took a shaky breath.

The boy next to me sighed and leaned back against the wall.

"Don't relax; it'll soon be your turn. Everyone will go through it."