Hi! Thanks to everyone who's been reading my story! I was so bored from homework so I decided to write my story instead.
Avatar, the Last Airbender in in no way associated with this fic. I don't own the show, but I do own the characters and several smelly socks.
Chapter 3: The Brave (Or not so brave) Shing
"Urgh…" I groaned, struggling to lift my eyelids. A meek flickering light cast criss-cross shadows across the gray clay floor I lay sprawled on. Sticky dampness clung to my body, and with disgust I realized the wetness was my own sweat. And no wonder, it was scorching hot down here, wherever here was.
"Wow, the pile of rags is moving!" a faint voice snickered.
"Huh? Wha? Who?" I moaned with a guttural roughness. Where was I? Oh yeah, I got busted for taunting her Highness, Princess Mei. The Rat Lord must have locked me up in this oven.
Attempting to push myself off the ground, a shower of burning pain bombarded the back of my head. Wincing in agony, I clutched my skull and slowly stood up, beads of sweat rolling down my neck. And then, being as coordinated as I am, I clanged my shin against a row of bars that had popped out of nowhere.
"Yaargh!" I yelped. Obviously, I was in an old dungeon of some sort. This was not my day.
"Here, let me help you with that." The soft tenor voice spoke again. Before I could speak up, two firm hands grasped my shoulders and forcefully pulled me away from the row of bars.
"Aack!" I cried as the strong movement thrust my body backwards.
Before I could fall, the stranger's arms caught me and pulled me into their body. I gasped at how close the person was holding me. Was he (or she) so desperate that they were attracted to me?
Before I could indulge in any romantic fantasies, I found myself being pushed away from the person. Deciding in was high time to take control of my feet again, I pried the mystery figure's fingers off my collarbone and turned around, rooting my feet to the spot.
"Huh?" I said, puzzled by the person who I was setting eyes upon. The shadows were too thick to see anything but the outline of their body.
"Can you do anything besides grunt?" the person questioned, stepping into the small light permeating from the candle. He was a young man, around the age of 17. He had a burly build and there was a mischievous twinkle in his amber eyes. The boy was dressed in raggedy pants that didn't even suit a scarecrow and dirt caked his skin. Dried blood was spattered across his chest, bleeding sluggishly from a small wound on his shoulder. He seemed familiar…
"Shing!" I exclaimed, recalling his name. I didn't know the boy that well; he had always been a distant acquaintance. I'd heard enough village gossip though to know that Shing was a sought after man.
"Wow, it only took you about fifty seconds to recognize me. Did that blow in the head really hurt your brain so much that you can't recognize a fellow slave?" Shing joked good-naturedly, at least, I think he wasn't being serious…
"Well, I don't know what you got yourself into this time, Solana, but you must have caused a big commotion to be locked up down here in Tai-Fu's old wine room, which he's decide to transform into a prison." Shing said.
"Hey! I didn't cause that much of a problem, I just- wait, why are you down here?" I asked, realizing that Shing wasn't down here to just relax.
"Oh, me." Shing scoffed "Dear Master Tai-Fu's decided my protesting is to much of a burden to the plantation. You see, I'm almost a grown man now," he paused for a moment and attempted to mold his face into a manly expression, I snorted at how screwed up his face looked, "so I decided I've had enough of slavery. All the old people ever do is sit around and do nothing, and I for one know that moving our mouths and blabbering about how unfair enslavement is won't get us very far, so I decided to take matters into my own hands." Shing paused for a second, attempting to build a dramatic tension. "Violence won't get us any where, with all the guards Tai-Fu keeps around this place you can't even poke someone and not get in trouble. And protesting doesn't help either. It took a while, but I finally came up with a solution; go on a hunger strike! I heard that in ancient times, kidnapped people that were set up for ransom would refuse to eat unless they were released. The kidnappers didn't want the people dead, so in the end they had to let their captives go. Following this ancient method, I fasted for days upon end in silence, and finally the kitchen staff noticed how skinny I was becoming. Upon questioning me, I answered that the only way I would stop starving myself was if I was freed. Seeing as the Rat didn't want to lose a slave, to death of freedom, he decided to use other methods to secure my slavery." Shing fell silent, shivering as if remembering a dreadful nightmare.
The pain in my head had subsided, so I unclenched my hands from my head and brought a palm to Shing's shoulder. "Are you feeling all right?" I asked gently. He nodded his head in response to signal a yes. "What happened next?" I prodded gently.
Brushing my hand from his shoulder, he directed his grave gaze to the ground and started to speak softly. "Tai-Fu decided to force feed me. He locked me away in this godforsaken cell and every day a guard comes in to feed me. They-they take a metal tube and then… well, they stuff it down your throat…" A sob escaped under his breath and I could see in his eyes Shing was holding back tears. "It feels like someone's punching you in the stomach. If you try to cough, blood comes out of your nose. It's pure torture. They can't stuff solid food down your throat so they make me eat raw eggs and water. I don't know how much longer I can live like this…" he stopped, and before I knew what to do, a silent tear ran down his stony cheek and splattered on the floor.
"I…I had no idea… we thought you were working in the house…" I stuttered, trying to justify why I hadn't noticed Shing was gone. What kind of monster could do this to a person?
He wiped his eyes and smiled weakly. "Just ignore me, it's not that bad. Really, compared to what you're about to face, my pain'll be like a bubble bath compared to what you'll have to go through."
Dread twisted my stomach. What was he talking about? "What do you mean? What do I have to "face"?" I whispered, fear doing a jig on my stomach.
Shing looked at me with immeasurable pity. "Solana, when Tai-Fu's guards threw you in the cell, I heard them muttering something about using you to test out a new method of "obedience training."
My heart pounded against my chest as if a bad drummer was trying to imitate the sound of thunder. "What "obedience training?" I squeaked in a pathetic, mouse-like voice.
Shing crossed his muscled arms around his bare chest, glancing sideways and avoiding eye contact at all cost. Finally, he replied in a harsh, cold voice. "Torture. Obedience training is torture."