Chapter 2: Dreams of the Slave
He woke up suddenly, nearly striking his head on the low slung underbelly of the bunk bed above him. It was the same dream he had nearly every night for the past two years. At this point, he should be no longer surprised by this, but every night for the past two years, he jolted up out of bed, sweaty and wide eyed. Sometimes, he wondered what would have happened if he had listened to his father and ran home, warning his mother and Kara. Would he have arrived there in time? Would he have beaten the Tao soldiers swarming his home? Or would he have been like his mother Selena, beaten and tortured by the soldiers, possibly dying there on the sun-baked ground, his blood seeping into the dusty earth.
Kephra hugged his knees close to his chest, resting his head on them, thinking. Such a simple decision he made, and how huge the ramifications it had been.
He had been at the Black Pit Mines for two years now. Two years of mining in the bowels of the southern mountain chain of his home, known to be active, spewing ash and soot for miles. Two years of working with the smelting process of the metals mined. Two years of taxing, back breaking labor, mining iron and copper ore for the Tao Empire, only for the ore to be turned into weapons to be used against his people.
The very same people that were currently struggling to fight off the impeding yoke of control under the Tao Empire and their war mongering Emperors.
The Mines were located in the northern part of the mountain range that separated the large boxy continent that held the two kingdoms. It was perpetually hot and dry, despite being close to the cooler northern reaches and was once, a mine under the purview of the Skyking. The Black Pit Mines had once been a penitentiary colony of sorts, where dangerous, hardcore criminals went to work out the rest of their days. Due to how isolated the Mines were in the mountain ranges, there was little chance for a criminal to escape. The value of the ore within the cave made it one of the first areas the Tao Empire conquered, in order to place a choke hold on the Sky Kingdom's supply lines.
He sighed gustily and gazed into the stygian darkness, unable to sleep now. Even if he tried to sleep, the guards could burst in the buildings that housed the slaves, disrupting them from the fitful rests. He had no concept of time, not anymore.
The other slaves were asleep in their bunks, thin blankets providing little to no warmth in the drafty buildings, but it wasn't like they needed them anyway; the heat rolling in from the mountains surrounding them provided more than enough warmth for the residents. The blankets provided comfort, not warmth. Kephra had no desire for a blanket; he was a fire type by nature. The heat was nothing to him, thus, making him extraordinarily valuable to the overseers of the mines.
He felt the familiar anger roiling in his chest as he thought of the slaves surrounding him. Like him, they had been the victims of circumstance, being in the wrong place at the wrong time when the Tao soldiers rampaged in their homes. Some were enslaved for the pettiest reasons; for some, it was because an enemy had turned them in to Tao soldiers, claiming treason. Some had simply been in the way. Slaves of all ages and sexes slept together and worked together. At least the overseers had provided one small mercy: the females did not have to work in the mines. Instead, they worked as errand runners, bringing water to the slaves working in the mine shafts, cooking for the guards and cleaning.
He stretched out his legs, his knees cramping in the small space. The dull glint of the shackles on his ankles and wrists flashed in a shaft of starlight filtered through the boards of their ramshackle roof. The shackles were placed there to prevent Kephra from utilizing the fullest extent of his abilities and powers, namely, the ability to engulf his hands and wrists in flames. Such an ability would prove disastrous in a region such as this. The shackles were heavy and made of a dull bronze hued metal. Supposedly, they held the power of water inside them according to the slavers, preventing from any slave from getting the wrong idea. According to popular rumor, the shackles held the power of the slaves weakness, preventing them from utilizing their utmost strength. For water types, it was the essence of lightning, for dragons, the power of ice and so on and so forth. Kehpra knew that could not be the case, for he could heat the metal to a dull red using his fiery wrists, if he concentrated. The gesture weakened him greatly, so he did not attempt it very often. They were also unwieldy when it came to working in the mines, but after two years, he had long since gotten used to their weight and heft. If he could find some light in the darkness, it was that he had grown strong, perhaps even stronger than his brothers. The Mines had toughened him up.
He turned his eyes upward to the wooden boards of the bed above him, trying vainly to study the patterns of the grain. He wondered if he would ever escape from this nightmare. In the beginning, he had prayed to the All-Father for soldiers of the Sky King to storm the mines and free the slaves. It had been a pipe dream and Kephra quickly gave up on that, especially after he saw former Sky soldiers, distinguishable by their emerald green tunics, coming into the mines. But still, to completely give up on hope would mean to give up on everything in life and he would become nothing more than an emotionless zombie, going through the motions, but without any feeling or hope.
He closed his eyes as he stretched back into the tiny cramped bed. He had to at least attempt to get the tiniest amount of sleep before morning broke. He eyed the tiny shaft of starlight peeking through the wood beams of the roof. It was still very dark outside, the area gripped in the deepest darkness of night. He tried to relax, hoping, praying that for once, the nightmare didn't come again.
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He awoke to, once again, to a large bang as one of the guards for the Mines slammed the door wide open, letting in the dull red hue of the morning sky streaming in, along with the ashes that blew in from a westerly wind. He sat up slowly, eying the underbelly of the bed above him. He had a more pleasant dream this time, the first in a long time. It would seem that Arceus had answered at least one of his prayers. Kephra had dreamt of his evolution ceremony, when he evolved from a combusken to a blaziken. There had been a massive feast, festivities and well wishes from his father's workers and friends. Then, he had and his father had gone off to perform a special ceremony that was a secret to outsiders, namely those who were not blaziken.
The more he thought of the dream, the more his heart ached. It had been that last time he and his family had celebrated like that together. The Tao soldiers had invaded his home a mere fortnight later.
The guard, a rhydon, slid four squat buckets into the room, then crossing his arms, watching with a wary eye. His tunic, black, white and grey, the colors of the Tao, were now the dull color of soot and ash. A thick whip rested in one hand.
Kephra slid out of bed and knelt at one of the buckets. It was a thin pasty looking gruel, with some oats and mixed grain. It was to serve as both breakfast and lunch. Two of the buckets were full of tepid water. He cupped his hands and scooped a handful of the gruel, the bland taste of the meal not even registering on his tongue. The other slaves staying in the same bunk were doing likewise, scooping it with their hands and slurping at the meal, in a vain attempt to savor it.
From the corner of his eye, he spied one of the slaves, a older clefable, hobbling towards the bucket. He had a clear limp, as Kephra noticed how he avoided putting weight on his left leg. Kephra, who was much taller than him, shuffled to one side, offering him room to get something to eat.
"Here," he said to him. "There's plenty left."
The elder clefable shook his head. "There's no need for that today." he took only a measly mouthful and went over to the water bucket. Kephra felt a pang in his chest. The clefable knew something that he didn't and Kephra knew exactly what he had been talking about.
When Kephra managed to swallow down two handfuls of the gruel, he went over to the water bucket. Thankfully, there were a pair of ladles. Some of the slaves moved aside for him and Kephra ignored the ladles for once, instead consuming the water by scooping it in his hands. He leaned over into the water and he got a good look at himself. He was skinny, skinnier than most blaziken, with a lean face hardened by two years of toil. He had his father's face, hard and lean, but his mother's blue-green eyes. He would have been taller than his family as well, even taller than Akhum, if he were still alive today. Scars lined his arms and back, the result of the whip. He wore nothing more than a pair of raggedy pants, given to him when he arrived at the Mines. The guard occasionally gave them a change of clothes, but that only happened when the harvest festival and the Tao holiday that required "kindness" and no fighting for a single day.
The rhydon guard bulled in and snatched the buckets away, sloshing the food and water every which way, wasting it. Kephra turned his head away in disgust as some of the slaves, so desperate for food or water, tried to get it off the floor.
"Alright, here's your assignments for the day," the rhydon guard bellowed over the din, naming names and where they were meant to go. Kephra listened for his name.
"Kephra Vulkanus, you'll be working in Shaft 4."
Kephra winced inwardly. The mines were horrendous, especially the shafts that broke off from the main Shaft 4, for they were known to spew gas and collapse frequently. Of course, it could have been much worse; he could have been transporting the ore to the smelters like a workhorse or disposing of the corpses. The guard cracked the whip over the heads of the slaves. "Get to your posts!" he snarled and the slaves nearly fought each other to push past the guard.
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Kephra rubbed some sweat off his brow as he toiled in the mine shaft, the pickax in his hands slick with age and sweat from his palms. The dim glow of a lantern illuminated the stone in front of him, everything cast in a dull orange. They had managed to find another vein of iron ore in the shaft, the same vein he was working at. When he managed to get a chunk of iron out, he tossed it behind him into a cart that moved up and down the shaft, pulled by slave pokemon.
One of the guards cracked his whip over Kephra's head and he flinched, only a little, as the tip of the whip snaked across his shoulders, leaving behind a faint sting. He ignored the pain and the growls of the guard, only imagining wrapping the whip around the guard's neck.
"Water," someone called out from down the shaft and Kephra perked up. Occasionally, the guards and the supervisors of the mine sent out a slave with a couple buckets of water and ladles. The water was lukewarm and sometimes gritty, but it was water nonetheless. He reached out when the slave came by, snatching one of the ladles and dipping it into the pail and taking a sip of the water. It wasn't nearly as cold as it could have been, but it was refreshing and it washed the dist out of his throat. He finished the first ladle and dipped it in for a second scoop when the heavy hand of the guard clasped his forearm, twisting it.
"That's enough for you," the guard, a thuggish looking krookodile sneered. Kephra glared at him, hoping he would back down. Instead, the guard took the ladle from his hand and drank the water, slurping at it slowly with a sadistic glee. The guard tossed the ladle back at the slave, a nuzleaf. "Get going," the krookodile snapped. The slave scampered off, frightened.
The pair stared at each other for a heartbeat more and the guard snorted, yanking Kephra's arm as he stomped off. Kephra glowered at the crocodilian guard, as if his eyes could burn holes into the monster's physique. He turned back to the mine, pickax still in one hand, and went back to the iron vein, trying to get as much as he can without drawing the unwanted attention of the guards that patrolled the shaft.
Then, a rumble.
Dust began billowing from down the tunnel in massive plumes. "Collapse!" someone screamed and the chaos began. Kephra froze, nearly dropping the pickax as the soot and dust came pouring in from his left, the gray and black soot obscuring everything. He leapt over buckets and pickaxes and the crude railway that helped guide the carts up and down the shaft. The ground rumbled and shook under his feet, not unlike an earthquake. Dust obscured his vision as he ran. He stumbled once, landing heavily on his hands and knees. He got up a quickly as possible, to avoid being crushed by the debris. Dirt and rocks fell down from the ceiling, obscuring his vision. All he could hear was the panicked screams of the guards and the slaves caught unaware. Slaves and guards ran out from the smoke, not caring for those smaller than them, only about their own survival.
"Help! Help me, please!" Kephra turned around behind him to find a watchog on the ground, his left foot and leg pinned by an upturned cart that a guard or slave shoved over to get out of dodge.
Kephra stopped and ran to the watchog. "Hold on, I'm coming!" Kephra shouted over the din, leaping over a pile of debris. He knelt next to the watchog. "How bad is it?" he asked.
"Really bad," the watchog replied with a pained expression. "I think it's broken. Its really stuck under there."
Kephra nodded. "Okay." He quickly assessed the situation. The cart had managed to fall over in a way that the majority of the ore had scattered around the watchog. Unfortunately, some ore was still inside the cart, making it somewhat heavy. Kephra pushed and removed some of the hunks of ore out of the way. The watchog groaned in pain, eyes rolling back. Kephra had seen this once before, when one of his father's workers had come in, gravely injured from a cut of a scythe. His mother had managed to take care of the worker, but the worker had gone into shock during the process, just like the watchog was doing now.
"Stay with me!" Kephra demanded, shaking the watchog's shoulder, jolting him back into consciousness. Kephra glanced up, only to find the beam that was supporting their part of the shaft groaning with the pressure and threatening to snap with the weight. He had to move quickly. He placed his hands to either side underneath the cart and began to lift it up and away from the watchog's broken leg. He managed to fling it aside with a sudden rush of adrenaline.
The watchog watched Kephra with amazement. "Praise Arceus!" he whispered to the blaziken. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Kephra said, placing his arms under the watchog and lifting him off the ground, careful of the broken leg. The wooden beams moaned and groaned, dirt falling down like rain. Kephra took off, his legs easily leaping over the cart he moved. He could hear the beam give way and the shaft behind him collapsing under the pressure from the earth above.
He managed to make it outside, the shackles on his feet and ankles feeling heavier than ever. The watchog was now unconscious and Kephra wondered if he would make it through the night. He breathed heavily, trying to regain his breath. Thankfully, one of the other slaves, a female blissey, took the injured watchog from him, scurrying off to find something to help tend to the injured pokemon.
He glanced back behind him, watching as the dust billow out of the shaft in huge plumes, carrying with it the screams of the trapped. He hurriedly turned his face away, feeling ill to his stomach, instead, looking up towards the sky. The sky was a dull blue, with clouds coming in, reflecting the red of the landscape on their underbellies. Ash and soot filled the air, dancing on the winds. The slaves and guards that survived the partial shaft collapse milled outside like lost sheep, traumatized by the ordeal and in some cases, shell shocked.
After a few minutes, the supervisor, an ursaring, thundered down the hill, dressed in a blue-black tunic trimmed in royal violet thread, along with a pair of sleek leather boots with gold stamping. A whip with its handle wrapped in gold wire rested at his side, while a sword called a khanda rested on the other hip. An expression of displeasure marred his face. His paw reached for the expensive whip, a symbol of his authority, and he cracked it over his head, stunning the guards and slaves into silence. Kephra had only seen the overseer once in his two years there. The only other previous time was when he had inspected one of the shafts Kephra happened to be working at.
"You, you and you," he pointed to three guards that managed to escape the shaft. "Begin clearing out the shaft." He then pointed to some of the stronger looking slaves, including Kephra. "Remove whatever the guards tell you to. Overseer Viekos," the krookodile overseer, saluted. "Distribute the slaves to new shafts. We're behind schedule for fulfilling our quota thanks to this minor inconvenience."
"Yes sir," the krookodile saluted again and the ursaring snorted at his kowtowing. The usaring stomped off, leaving the guards and the salves to clean after the disaster, with minimal assistance.
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So, are you enjoying it so far? I hope so, and not just for the chance for submitting a character. And speaking of OCs, the submission form will be up until chapter five and it will then be taken down, in order to be somewhat compliant with the rules here on FFN; however, if you wish to submit one at a later time, I'm more than happy to pm you the form.
Kephra's name is from ancient Egypt, for those who are curious. It is the name of the Egyptian god Kephra, who rolled the sun across the sky everyday.
Akhom, his father, also has ties to ancient Egypt. His name means "eagle", which is a quite fitting for a blaziken. Akhum's name is a corruption of his father's name.
All the other names in here, save for a handful, don't have meanings in the real world; they're just made up names, but they have meaning in their world.