Chapter 3: One of Us
By: DarkDuelist
Disclaimer: Aladdin, Jasmine and Co. are copyright of Disney and I used them without permission, but with love. Italic means the character is thinking.
Author's Notes: Cyril means "lordly" and Eudora mean "delightful gift"
I can't fight anymore.
The realization came to him as he hang chained to the ceiling. There was no windows, so the boy had no way of knowing how long he had been in the cell. It felt like forever. All he knew was that he was caught in a sick cycle of beatings and endless questioning. The guards would come to torture him and then Cyril would return once more to ask the same questions again: who was he, where did he come from and who was his master? Every time the slave would stay silent and the guards were sent back. He knew now that it was useless and that unless he said what Cyril wanted to hear that they would kill him. So now the salve was left with two choices; to give into to Cyril or give into death.
The sound of the door being unlocked brought the boy back to reality and two guards walked in.
"We're back!" Called the tallest of the two.
The other guard chuckled and step forward. "It's my turn to start this time."
Time to make a choice.
"No." The boy rasped.
"What was that?" The tall guard asked as he grabbed the slave's ragged shirt.
"I want to see Cyril. Tell him I'll talk to him now."
The guards stared at the boy for a minute and began to laugh.
"I'm afraid that you missed your chance to speak to Cyril." The tall one laugh a little. "Now, if you really want to talk to him your just going to have to deal with us for awhile."
"But I..." The boy murmured.
"The guard slapped him. "Do you think I care about what you want? If you think I do than your as stupid as you look!" He turned to the other guard and smiled. "I believe you said you wanted to start this time?"
With a malicious smile, the other guard walked over to the boy and raised the whip. The cycle had began again as the boy's screams of suffering echoed off the stone walls.
The quiet of the hall was broken as Cyril made his way toward the cell. He was starting to loss his patience with this new slave. Unless he broke soon, Cyril would let his guards finish him off. He turned down another hall and saw one of his guards standing by the door of the cell. As the guards opened the door he smiled at Cyril.
"I'm sure your going to be pleased this time Master Cyril."
"If that damn boy knows what's best for him I better be pleased."
Cyril couldn't help but smirk at what he saw when he walked into the cell. The boy hang from his chains like a rag doll, his clothing were nothing but bloody rags. As Cyril stood in front of the slave he wondered if the boy was still alive.
"Look up at me boy!"
Cautiously the boy looked up, his face bruised and bloodied. In the slave's eyes Cyril could see defeat.
"Well, now" Cyril smirked again, "lets see if you learned anything. I don't have to ask you the questions again, do I?"
"No." The slave answered.
"Well, then go on." Cyril folded his arms across his chest.
"I'm nothing. I came from nowhere. And you are my master." The boy whispered.
"What was that boy?"
The slave took a deep breath and again louder he answered. "I'm nothing from nowhere and you are my master."
Cyril laughed and called for a guard. "Take him to Eudora to be cleaned up."
The guard began to take the slave's chains off and Cyril turned to leave, but then looked back at the slave again.
"See? Was it really that hard to answer my questions?"
When the boy woke up he was laying down on something soft. The last thing he remember was Cyril and everything going dark.
"So, you are alive."
He turned toward the voice and saw a lovely young woman smiling at him.
Did I die?
"I thought that they had drag in a dead body when I saw you." she shook her head a little. "That was too close there Hero."
"What?" He mumble confused.
She let out a small giggle and got up and walked over to a table. "I guess your still a bit out of it. I don't blame you, you were beaten so badly." She picked up a small cup and return next to him. "Here, you need to warm up."
The boy tried to sit up but fall back into the pillows and moaned.
"Take it east, Your still wake from the blood lose. You're a lucky one Hero."
He took a sip of the tea and gave her a puzzled looked. "why are you calling me hero?"
"That's what they always call guys like you. The ones that don't answer Cyril's pointless questions and almost get killed. Suicide Heroes, that's what they call them. Well, you should get use to being called that, all the others will call you it too. It beats being called "boy" or the other things they call new players. By the way, my name is Eudora."
"The other players?"
"Yeah, you know the other Ring players. Oh! That's right, you don't really know about the Game or the Ring yet."
"What game? What does a ring have to do with any of this?" His head was beginning to hurt.
"Don't worry. Just take it east for now." she took the cup back. "Trust me, you'll know all you need to know about the Game soon. Just get some sleep Hero."
Slowly his eyes began to close and the ache in his body seemed to lessen. For the first time he was able to sleep in a soft bed and the Hell that he had been through for the past weeks was forgotten.