The cold night air bit at Kael's skin as he trudged toward the docks, his boots crunching against the snow.
The frozen lake stretched endlessly before him, its surface glistening under the pale moonlight. The docks were alive with activity, despite the late hour.
Slaves of all ages young and old moved like shadows, hauling crates and barrels onto waiting ships. The sound of creaking wood, clinking chains, and the occasional bark of a guard's orders filled the air.
Kael's muscles ached as he joined the line of slaves, his iron collar weighing heavily on his neck.
A guard shoved a wooden crate into his arms, its rough edges digging into his skin. "Move it, slave! That crate doesn't carry itself!"
Kael gritted his teeth but said nothing. He hoisted the crate onto his shoulder and followed the others toward a large fishing vessel.
The work was grueling, and the cold made every movement feel like a struggle. He glanced around, noting the guards stationed at regular intervals, their eyes sharp and their hands resting on weapons.
As Kael set the crate down on the ship's deck, a sudden commotion broke out. A young slave, no older than sixteen, broke away from the line and sprinted toward the edge of the docks.
"Freedom! Freedom is mine!" the boy shouted, his voice filled with desperate hope.
The guards reacted instantly, charging after the boy with their batons and rifles raised.
But before they could reach him, an invisible force sliced through the air with a sharp crack! The boy cried out as an unseen whip tore through his back, ripping his shirt and leaving a bloody gash.
He stumbled, clutching his wound, but desperation kept him running, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Garrick, his thick brown bear-fur coat billowing in the wind. In his hand was a whip that glinted with an unnatural sheen.
With a flick of his wrist, the whip lashed out, striking the boy across the chest. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, his cries of pain echoing across the docks.
Garrick strode forward, his expression cold and unfeeling. He stood over the boy, his whip raised high.
"This," he said, his voice carrying over the silence, "is what happens to those who try to escape."
Thwack Thwack!
Each strike drawing a fresh scream from the boy. The other slaves watched in horrified silence, their faces pale and their eyes wide.
Kael's fists clenched, but he forced himself to stay still. The Engine's light still flickered faintly, a silent reminder of his own helplessness.
When the boy's cries finally faded into whimpers, Garrick stepped back, his chest heaving.
"Let this be a lesson to all of you," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "No one escapes. No one."
The guards dragged the boy away, his blood staining the snow.
༓☾༓☾༓
Hours passed, and the night grew colder. Kael's arms felt like lead, and his stomach growled with hunger.
Finally, the guards called for a break, handing out small portions of preserved meat to the slaves.
The meat was tough and flavorless, but Kael devoured it without complaint. It was the first meal he'd had since arriving in the village.
As he ate, Kael noticed an older slave sitting nearby, his face weathered and his eyes tired. The man glanced at Kael and gave a small nod.
"You're new here," the man said, his voice low.
Kael nodded. "Yeah. Name's Kael."
"I'm Tomas," the man replied. He glanced around before continuing. "This place… it wasn't always like this. Sagu Village used to be peaceful. But then *he* came."
"Who?" Kael asked, his interest piqued.
"A man in a black cloak," Tomas said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He carried a staff, and his eyes… they were like ice. He turned this village into a slave hub. Garrick works for him."
Kael frowned. "And no one's tried to fight back?"
Tomas shook his head. "The collars… they suppress any resistance. And Garrick's whip… it's not ordinary. It can paralyze anyone who tries to fight. No one's ever escaped."
"What about the women?" Kael asked, thinking of Lira.
"They're forced to work as maids," Tomas said. "Many of the wealthy elders here can't take care of themselves. The women… they have it just as bad as we do."
Before Kael could ask more, Tomas stood, his expression tense. "I've said too much. If the guards hear us…" He didn't finish the sentence, but the fear in his eyes was enough.
As Tomas walked away, Kael leaned back against the hull of the ship, his mind racing.
He needed a plan, but with the collar suppressing the Engine's power, he felt utterly powerless.
Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in his mind.
"Hey, idiot. What have you been doing all this time?"
Kael's eyes widened. It was the Engine.
"Where the hell have you been?" Kael muttered under his breath. "Because of you, I'm stuck here as a slave!"
"You're the one who's been starving yourself," the Engine shot back. "After using my power, your body was drained. I couldn't activate without energy."
Kael groaned. "So what now? How do we get out of here?"
"It's impossible with your current strength," the Engine replied.
"The collar is blocking the flow of energy between us. If you want to escape, you need to replenish your strength."
Kael's eyes narrowed as he thought. If Lira was working as a maid, she might have access to food. Maybe she could help him.
He glanced around, noting that Garrick was nowhere in sight. Only a few guards remained, most of them distracted by a game of cards.
"Engine," Kael whispered, "how strong is my punch right now?"
"Strong enough to knock out a grown man," the Engine replied. "But don't get cocky."
Kael smirked. "Good enough for me."
༓☾༓☾༓
Kael moved quickly, his footsteps silent against the snow. He approached the group of guards, his heart pounding.
One of them looked up just as Kael's fist connected with his jaw. The guard crumpled to the ground, his cards scattering.
The other guards jumped to their feet, their eyes wide with shock. "What the?!"
Kael didn't give them time to react. He swung again.
BuuuukKK!
His mechanical fist slamming into another guard's stomach. The man doubled over, gasping for air.
The remaining guards drew their weapons a club and a knife but Kael was faster.
He dodged the club and countered with a punch to the guard's face, sending him sprawling.
The last guard lunged with the knife, but Kael caught his wrist and twisted,
CRACK!
Disarming him with a sickening crunch.
The guard screamed, clutching his broken wrist, but Kael silenced him with a final blow.
The other slaves watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and hope.
"Did you see that?" one of them whispered. "He took down four guards!"
"Maybe… maybe we can fight back," another said, his voice trembling with excitement.
Kael turned to the slaves and shouted, "If you want freedom, now's the time to take it!"
The words ignited something in the slaves. One by one, they rose to their feet, their eyes filled with determination. The guards, realizing the danger, sounded the alarm, but it was too late.
The docks erupted into chaos as the slaves fought back, their pent-up anger and desperation fueling their strength.
Kael stood at the center of it all, the Engine's light glowing brighter with every punch.
For the first time in a long time, the entire village felt a glimmer of hope.