Fate

Set shortly after the War of the Gods, Seth finds himself doubting his faith as he is confronted with the sheer brutality of the castle dungeons as he connects with a young child prisoner.

   Seth had never experienced such hunger and fatigue. He lay on the cold stone floor of his cell, trembling from the Frost that was slowly seeping through the bars from outside. His body was cold and numb, unable to feel any form of physical sensation. His breath formed little damp circles on the floor as he lay there in the dark, waiting and dreading for the iron doors at the end of the hallway to open.

   Across from his room the little boy stared at him. His body and face were still filthy, his long - once perhaps blonde - hair gray from the dust of his cell. In contrast to Seth, however, the boy did wear clothing; a dirty rag for a shirt stained with blood and pants that bore huge tears in the sides through which the scars on the boy’s upper legs became visible. He sat upright in his cell; a curious look in his face as he followed Seth’s movements across his own cell floor, trying to sit upright as well.

   “I told you not to stare, boy.” Seth grumbled as the pain in his back became worse. The boy kept silent, still following him with his curious eyes. 

   “You don’t speak the common tongue? Or do you choose to taunt me?! Off with ya, now!” Seth repeated, this time louder. The boy’s gaze changed from Seth to the other cells. There was not a sound but the trembling and moans of men slowly dying of thirst and hunger around them. Some cells were completely silent now; Seth knew his would be soon too. He put his hands around the bars of his cell door, rambling and shaking it. He soon fell down again, already fatigued of his display of his weakened physical power. The boy slightly turned his head as he watched Seth fall back on the floor, his eyes fascinated by Seth’s attempt.

   “Why do you want to go out, Mister?” the boy asked resolutely, his voice sounding somewhat amused. 

   “What do you mean why, boy? Why do I want my freedom? Why do I choose not to give up? Because my story doesn’t end here; that’s why.”

   The grunting sounds of his voice echoed through the dungeon as each word was absorbed by the howling wind outside.

   “You sit there, waiting for them to come pick you up, so that you can experience something else than your prison walls, but once they come to pick me up, it’s over for me. They’ll execute me, you hear?”

   He looked at the boy intensely, as his breath escaped him once again, causing a gasp for air as he coughed and slipped down across the wall of his cell. The boy’s face was indifferent, as if he tried to make sense of what he had just heard.

   “You’re not working in the mines as I am?” he asked, confused.

   Seth turned his head up irritated at the innocence of the oblivious youth across from him.

   “No, I do not work in the mines.” he said mockingly. “I’m a different kind of prisoner here.”

   “I’ve seen that. You and your lot must’ve been really bad men for them to treat you like that. I’ve been here all my life, but have never seen or experienced the prison life that you’re all going through. May I guess what you have done, Sir? You have to give me at least 3 tries!”

   Seth looked up, surprised at the sudden playfulness of the young lad.

   “Fine, guess away.” he grunted.

   “Okay okay okay!” the boy said excitingly, a surprising burst of energy filling the cold, dark dungeons. He put up his serious thinking face as he looked Seth in the eyes. “I think…you and your men are thieves! You went into the castle and tried to steal from the Royal Treasure and King Elmond himself, but got caught! Now you have to await your trial in court to see whether you’ll be executed or not! Am I right? Or at least close to the truth?!”

   Seth smirked in the dark. The thought of a trial for him and his men was a funny thought indeed; but the ignorance of the young boy of the outside world was something to treasure. If only he knew what had happened and what was about to happen for the people outside.

   “Wrong, try again.”

   The boy slumped back in his sitting position against the wall. He thought again for a second, carefully constructing his next guess.

   “You’re… murderers of justice! Killing bad men in the hope of a better future! Men like thieves and rapists and such! But the Royal Guard finally took notice of you and you all had to surrender to them!”

   “Wrong again, boy, although some parts might be true, depending on how you look at things.”

    The boy looked hopeful at getting at least some part right. He grabbed the bars of his cell door peeking through the darkness towards Seth. 

   “What part did I get right, Mister? Please, give me a small hint!”

   “3 guesses, boy.” Seth smirked.

   The boy sat on his knees near the bars of his cell, contemplating his final guess. A thought seemed to occur as he looked up again.

   “Are you religious, Mister? A believer in Ula, or perhaps Thawú?”

   Seth stared at the prison floor.

   “Thawú.” he whispered.

   A silence fell over the dungeon as the cries and moans of men beside them echoed through the halls.

   “I see.” the boy said quietly. “Then… that has to be it. The guards hate Thawú; I know that. Say he is the God of mischief and all. That’s why they hate you all so much and treat you like that!”

   Seth remained silent as a chill went down his spine thinking back on the events that led him here.

   “You defied Ula, challenging our Goddess with your own. The court of Domir was alerted and found you; locked you away until you were to be converted.”

   The boy grew silent for a moment as he tried to see Seth’s reaction to his guess.

   “But…”, he continued slowly, “you won’t be. For you still believe in him. That’s why there is no way out for you. You won’t betray your own God.”

   “It’s not there yet, but I’ll allow it, kid.” Seth grunted. His stomach started rumbling again. He had not eaten for several days now and was only still standing because of the occasional rain that fell through the bars of his window.

   “What’s your name, kid?”

   “I don’t have one, Sir. They just call me ‘One’, since I was their first slave born in captivity. My parents must’ve given me one at some point, but I do not really remember them. I’m not even sure I ever met them after I was put on this world.”

   Seth looked up at that. He had heard of slaves born in captivity for the crimes of their parents, but he did not believe the rumors to be true; at least not for his own people. But what could he really believe of his people anymore?

   “You’ve never been free in your life?”

   “No Sir, but I did get kitchen duty up in the castle once. I got cleaned up and everything, but I dropped a can of wine on the floor on my second day. I got a pretty hard beating for that, but I’d take it anytime to see the upstairs world again.”

   His gaze drifted away, lost in dreams and memories. Seth suddenly felt an immense pity for the boy. For no reason of his own, he was born a slave, worked a slave and treated as one. He would never experience the freedom any other man would experience, nor any of the joys of life. How he still had this childish enthusiasm was beyond Seth’s imaginings. 

   “I’m sorry, kid.” Seth whispered.

   “For what, Mister? I know this is no ordinary life for a person, but I’ve never known anything else. I’ve talked to men like you, who sat in that same cell as you, in fact. They were miserable, as you are right now, some of them even more so. But they felt miserable, because they knew something different; a different type of life. I do not. And I’d rather have that than to know what I’d be missing out on.”

   The boy spoke in a soft, slow voice. He seemed to have made peace with what he was saying. Nevertheless, hearing the boy speak his heart broke Seth’s.

   “So what are you here for then? With 3 wrong guesses I at least deserve the truth, right?”

   Seth crawled up again, moving himself in front of the bars of his cell door, as was the boy doing across from him. They looked at each other for a moment, before Seth started speaking softly.

   “I- we lost a war. My people - the people of Thawú - we lost a war against yours. Our priests went too far; tried to convert across our borders, creating rivalry between the churches. Soon, the Continent and all its Kings were opposite of one another. War was imminent and your people - Ula’s people - took the first strike, attacking in the north.

   After that, several other conflicts arose across the Continent. Kings divided up armies, High-Lords lost their lands to their enemies or mere plundering. I was in one of our last squads. None of us knew what they were doing; we had never fought in a war. I used to preach at people’s front doors and now they shoved a spear in my hands, expecting me to kill.”

   Seth looked down at his hands, now festering with blisters from the cold.

   “I didn’t kill. I couldn’t. Neither did most of the men in my squad. Those who did were killed. The rest of us, we’re here.”

   He nodded towards the other cells. The boy looked surprised and worried. Seth figured it must’ve been a shock to be confronted with the state of the outside world like this.

   “We’re not getting out, we’re not getting a trial. We’re examples of what happens to the people of Thawú. Examples of how we are abandoned by our own God.”

   “And are you?” the boy whispered carefully.

   “I do not believe so, no. I think this is a test of our faith. We will die here honorably and will be welcomed in the Promised Lands by Thawú himself.”

   Seth gave a vague smile to the shadows of the dungeons. He did not know if he believed what he said himself. But it comforted him, and somewhere in one of the cells near him, he knew his words were a comfort to someone else too. And so he chose to believe, not because he did, but because he had the choice to.

   “I get some lessons in Ula’s teaching sometimes from the priest of the court.” the boy said, trying to change the tone of the conversation. “I’m not sure if I even am the religious type. But Grand Master Pyri says that-”

   The boy’s words were cut off by the sound of the iron doors opening. A group of guardsmen fell in line, opening the cell doors one by one. The prisoners were forcefully thrown out and were to stand in a line towards the exit.

   Seth’s cell was last, but the boy’s was untouched. The line of prisoners moved towards the door, but Seth stayed put.

   “Move or I’ll put a slave mark up your arsehole, fat man!”

   Seth did not move or respond to the man, instead directing his gaze straight forward. He saw a glimpse of the boy next to him move slowly towards the dark corners of his cell, covering his eyes. He had obviously seen before what disobedience got a man and now it was Seth’s turn. 

   He turned around instead, finding courage in the boy’s innocence beside him. 

   “I won’t be converted; Thawú is my only God and he will be until the day I die.”

   He felt his heart throb faster than he had ever felt. The men looked like they were amused by his resistance.

   “Alright boys, guess we’re in luck after all.” the commander, dressed in red cloaks, near the iron doors exclaimed. “Here's your fun, but be quick and don’t leave any body parts behind!”

   His laugh echoed through the halls as the line of prisoners slowly left the dungeons. Seth took one last look at the boy named ‘One’ and decided then and there that he did not believe in any God anymore. No God that he would ever admire would create a world like this. 

   And if one did witness this from somewhere, watching this all play out, then Seth decided they did not deserve his faith.

Author's Note

What do you think about the setting, worldbuilding and the dialogue?