EDIT

Say, do you guys like those little UW rules I put at the beginning of these things? I think they're nifty but I'm the authoress so I'm conceited like that. The one in this chapter is one of my personal favorites.


The Files of Kazdan Kalinkas

Book One: Not By Choice

Chapter Three: Ranks


UnderWorld Rule #3: A sword is better than your bare fists, a gun is better than a sword, and a Vile Driver will solve all your problems.


I woke at the blaring sound of a horn, no doubt intended to awaken the trainees from their slumber. Everything was gray with predawn light and from my perch atop the roof I could see the quiet UnderWorld city stretching out in points and peaks, still with sleepiness and silence. I was stiff and weak from lack of food but I managed to uncurl myself, rub the sleep from my eyes, and look around. Even this early in the morning, the UnderWorld was warm enough that my breath wouldn't frost in front of me and I didn't feel cold at all.

But I did get the crap scared out of me by a pair of large red-orange eyes leering at me. I yelped and shot straight up only to gasp in pain as I pulled the taunt skin of my bruised chest.

"Chaor told me there was going to be a human in the training barracks." A female voice, liquid smooth and so cold it was burning, "Did you really fall asleep up here?"

The Creature had a narrow face of a woman with large, pupiless eyes, taunt blue-gray skin, and no nose. Her dark hair flowed around her like smoke, twisting and curling. Her upper half was human-ish, a thick band of cloth tied around her chest, but her shoulders and arms (which ended in hands with long, thin fingers) were dark blue and scaly while stretching from a point at the base of her neck to about where the hips on a normal person would be was a patch of the same smooth, blue-gray skin that her face was. The rest of her was the coiling body of a snake with shimmering navy blue scales that rustled as their coils tightened around the railing below her.

In all honesty, the first thing that popped into my head was, Medusa.

"What? Can't speak? Are you mute?"

"No." I said sullenly, finding my voice again. Waking up with a pain in your side and some Perim version of Medusa staring at you is kind of unnerving.

Not to mention the stupid Instant Regeneration Armor.

If I ever got the chance, I was going to wring Ulmar's tiny little neck until his head popped off.

"You're the human that Chaor sent." It wasn't a question but I nodded anyway, "Hmph, scrawny little thing, aren't you?" I narrowed my eyes at her, "My name is Brakin. Meet me on the ground." With that, she slithered down the pole like she was walking down the sidewalk.

Easier said than done.

I crawled over to the edge of the flat roof and, on my belly, swung my legs out into empty space. My heart rate shot up like a rocket. I forced myself to not close my eyes and kept sliding down until I was hanging on by my fingertips and could feel the railing beneath my boots. Then I had to let go of the roof and jump onto the platform before I lost my balance. It's harder than it sounds. I lost my footing as I landed beneath the roof, stumbled, and slammed headfirst into the pole.

It was enough to send me spinning. I sat down heavily on the wooden platform, holding my head in my hands and groaning. A trickle of warm blood was staining my silver steel armor. Wiping it away from my eyes, I got shakily upright and kicked the rope ladder down.

The thing about rope ladders was that they moved.

I was slammed up against the pole several more times before I finally reached the ground. I collapsed in the dirt, wheezing with pain and a hand over my chest where Chaor had stomped on me yesterday. I could already hear loud voices echoing across the compound from instructors and rowdy soldiers-to-be.

A shadow fell over me and I looked up to see Brakin's red-orange eyes staring at me unsympathetically, "On your feet, Dog."

"Give me…a minute…" I panted, prodding the cut on my forehead that had been bleeding until a few moment ago.

"Now." She grabbed me under the arm, hauled me to my feet, and pulled me into a small cluster of buildings. I half stumbled, half let her drag me there; nauseated, hungry, weak, hurt, and scared. I didn't know what to expect anymore. I didn't know who to trust. Except maybe H'earring. H'earring could be loyal to a fault but only if it benefited him. And he didn't even like working for Chaor. Yeah, I was pretty sure I could trust H'earring.

Brakin slithered up a ramp into a tiny white building and shut the door behind me. Then she pushed me into a chair and went about sorting through cabinets and drawers. I lay my head back on the headrest of the worn leather chair, eyes closed, breathing shallow. My stomach made a loud and clearly audible growl. I was shaking with weakness and lack of nourishment.

"Here Dog, shut your stomach up." Something landed on my chest I coughed, opening my eyes to a loaf of bread. I tore at it ravenously, despite its hardness, and had soon devoured the whole thing. I picked crumbs off my armor.

"Dog."

Of course she'd call me that.

To her—and probably to everyone else in these training barracks—I was an underling so far below the ranks of even the most common foot soldier that I was hardly worth her time.

Unfortunately for Brakin, I was a certain somebody's pet project. So she'd just have to put up with me. That thought gave me a thin thread of comfort. She wouldn't hurt me much because I belonged to Chaor.

The thread snapped.

My stomach knotted.

Belonged.

I was someone else's property.

Brakin turned around to face me and I guess I had a sick look about me because the corners of her mouth lifted up just enough for her fangs to poke through underneath, "Vaccinations, Dog. I'll bet you'll catch things from us that we just shake off." She held up a gun that looked something like a mini-squirt gun with silver plating and a glass tube containing a clear liquid. Something told me that it wasn't water.

"Things like what?" I asked, stalling for time. I really didn't want that thing anywhere near me.

"Frostblight—that's the worst one—and then there's Brain Shock but I don't think you'll have to worry about that," She was naming these off so casually, tail flicking behind her, that it was almost eerie, "And Ice Fver and of course the common Burn Cold."

Like I said, UnderWorlders weren't very creative.

"Now hold still. I don't want Chaor blowing me to pieces because you're fidgeting." And she grabbed a fistful of my not-so-spiky hair, yanking my head to the side. She put the tip of the gun at the bare patch of skin between my jaw line and where the armor on my neck ended, "This is gonna sting a little."

Translation from doctor language to normal human speech: it was going to hurt like hell.

There was the sound of displaced air and a sharp pain slammed into the side of my neck. I bit back a yell, literally clamping my teeth down on my lower lip in an effort not to scream.

I wasn't going to scream anymore.

I wouldn't let them see how weak I could be.

Brakin pulled away and I put a hand to the spot where she'd injected the vaccination. It felt numb and swollen under my fingers. I swallowed and looked around at her. She glared at me,

"What're you waiting for, Dog. Get out!" She hissed the last word, a forked tongue lashing the air as she made a wild gesture for me to leave. I quickly backed out of the building, tripped, and fell head-over-heels down the ramp to lay sprawled in the dirt. The door slammed behind me.

I scrambled upright, ready to be pounced upon, but there was no one there. Ah, now I was in a dilemma. Where was I supposed to go now? I looked around but there was no one nearby. But I did hear the shouting of voices. I made an attempt to follow them.

I ended up in a dead end twice and met the outer concrete wall of the compound three times before I found an open space surrounded by what I assumed were the living quarters for the recruits.

I assumed that because standing in semi-perfectly straight lines were a group of UnderWorlders.

A mass of crimson that hated my guts.

I slunk out from between the buildings I'd been crouching behind and every eye immediately looked at me. I saw that three-eyed, dog-face Creature from yesterday turn up the corner of his lip in a sneer. I attempted to shoot a glare back at him but I wasn't as practiced in glares as UnderWorlders so it probably came up looking more like I was going to be sick.

"What are you doing!?" My attention was dragged away from Dog-Face to another Creature. This wasn't a recruit. This was an officer. He was dressed in UnderWorld style armor; chain mail down one arm and a vanbrace on the other. A plume of black, iridescent green feathers crested his head, matching feathers made a tail that almost brushed the dirt, and a beak clacked with his every word.

Hm, Frafdo's UnderWorld cousin. How cute.

"Get out of that armor and—." He stopped, eyes narrowed at me and I unconsciously stepped backwards, searching for the shelter of the buildings, "You're a human! What's a human doing in the training barracks!? How'd you get in here!? Soldiers, get him!"

"Halt!" Shouted another voice, this one female, "Do not move! Hold your positions!" Around the ranks of trainees came yet another Creature. She was also dressed in UnderWorld style armor with enough variations in it that made me think she was an officer too and probably a higher ranking one since she'd stepped on Frafdo's cousin's orders. Her skin was dark brown, curling bronze horns adorned her head, similarly colored spikes ran down her back, and her eyes gleamed a brilliant violet that stood out wildly in the growing light of the early morning.

"Are you an idiot, Faltin?" She snapped at the other officer, "This is the human Chaor sent here for training." Those emotionless purple eyes locked on me and I shivered, "He's Chaor's personal assassin."

I kept hearing that everywhere. Personal assassin this, personal assassin that. Bull. There was no way I was going to, not even if they shocked me a million times with that stupid silver rectangle. Well, maybe. I didn't really have that much confidence in my ability to "just say no" at this point.

To get away from the gaze of the creepy-eyed Creature lady, I switched my gaze to the rows of Creatures waiting to be trained. Well, this was a shock. They weren't leering at me or making rude gestures anymore. On the contrary, they were all staring at me with unhidden fear and…respect. I hadn't even done anything and just because they'd heard I was in Chaor's inner circle, I was immediately branded as someone to be afraid of. It wasn't like Chaor would give half a Mugic if something happened to me in here. But they didn't know that. At least they probably wouldn't be chasing me down to rip off my armor anymore.

"A human!? A human!?" There was a vein standing out so vividly on Faltin's head that I thought it was seriously going to pop, "Soulna! Do you realize that this is a human!? This is utter nonsense! Chaor would no sooner allow a human to join the ranks than—!"

"Enough!" Soulna barked and white-blue electricity sparked between her bronze horns. They were conductors, I realized, used to harness the energy inside her into an electrical current that could be channeled through her horns and spikes.

It was at this moment that I also realized why Ulmar would never give a Creature Instant Regeneration Armor.

Creatures had natural currents of power and energy flowing through them. There are plenty of theories about how this happened (most of them relating back to that the source of their powers in the Cothica itself) but however the Creatures obtained the ability to harness Mugicians and shoot fireballs, the fact remains that they can.

Ulmar would never fit another UnderWorlder with the IRA because the regeneration could mess up the flow of the power and energy, or vice-versa. This could either short-circuit the Creature's powers all together or cause them to be a permanent puddle of water. That must have been what Ulmar had been freaking out about when I'd first been caught.

See, I was smart.

"Where are you supposed to report to?" Soulna snapped at me and I shook my head, "What was that?"

"I dunno."

"What?" She was straining the word, glaring at me with those unnerving eyes, and I suddenly realized what I was supposed to say.

"I don't know, ma'am."

"Sir." Growled Soulna, "I'm a superior and acting officer so therefore I am "sir." Is that understood?"

"Yessir."

"Good. Faltin!" She kept her gaze trained on me but spoke to her fellow officer with crisp commands, "Send a message to Chaor. I want to know what he expects us to do with this brat!" Faltin stalked off to do her bidding, grumbling under his breath and the clicking of his beak, "For now you stand in the lines with the other maggots!"

I did as she told, trembling slightly. The Creatures had to shift around a bit to make the rows equal out and I ended up next to Dog-Face. He tilted his head down and whispered in rank breath that stank like mold, "Varris. That's me."

"K-Kaz." I whispered back.

Varris sniffed and straightened up, ears quivering as he looked me over with his peripheral vision, "You really are human. Why're you wearing that armor?"

"I can't…I can't take it off…" I murmured and started shaking even more. I was terrified at what was happening to me and what was going to happen. I didn't know how to cope. It all crashed down on me like a tidal wave.

The bloodcurdling screams of the dying guard…

The evil grin on Ulmar's face as he watched me beg for my life…

The agony of the electricity firing through my body…

The complete and utter hopelessness I'd felt when I learned I could never go home…

The tribe I'd supported for the longest time, the Creatures I'd helped and aided, had betrayed me.

The UnderWorld had become my permanent home.

And I was alone in this.

Unless Tom, Sarah, or Peyton found me then—

Tom…Sarah…Peyton…my friends…my only hope.

I clenched my fists at my sides, feeling suddenly energized and angry. And hopeful.

If there was a way, any way possible, for me to get a message from here to H'earring then I just might have a chance. If H'earring could get into contact with any one of my friends then there was serendipity of escape.

Hope.

You wouldn't believe how much better hope makes you feel.


Check that out, no page breaks. And yet, a shorter chapter. My apologies.

Well, Kaz seems to finding ways to make himself feel better, despite the traumatizing amount of crap he's managed to get himself into. Now we have four more major characters in play: Brakin, Faltin, and Soulna (some of the training barrack officers; and yes I did design Faltin like that specifically so I could made the Frafdo's cousin joke) and the dog-faced Varris.

This one did get away from me at one point. It decided to have Kaz get lost in the training barracks a couple of times before sending him to the marching grounds. Stupid story, running off on its own. Is anyone going to be nice to Kaz in this place?

Oh, ha, ha, ha! Apparently quite a few people are hating Chaor right now for putting Kaz through all this! XD