Chapter 27 #3
Reyne did nothing but stare at Magnius with boiling rage as he was dragged out of the throne room by several guards. He was led to the highest part of the fortress, to a room he had only heard horrifying stories of, the chamber of the white sand, Mordrick’s favorite torture chamber.
Guards threw the door open, releasing a wave of dry heat into the corridor, but before they forced him inside, his clothing was stripped from him.
Once naked, rough hands thrust him into the circular room.
In comparison to the dark stone walls of the fortress, the chamber was brilliant white.
Reyne struggled to cover his eyes, but since his wrists were chained to his ankles—preventing him from lifting them above his chest, all he could do was squeeze his eyes in a useless attempt to block the painful brightness.
He was given a final shove that pitched him forward. He landed in the white powdery sand that billowed around him. The chamber door slammed shut behind him and he heard the click of the lock sliding into place.
In the middle of the room, sat a large wooden hourglass. After struggling on his elbows, Reyne reached it and flipped it over. Ten hours. He could survive. He had to. While panting for just a drop of water, Reyne decided to take up where Odin left off, and assist the people.
He didn’t know how, but he would find a way to supply the Taleari with the water Mordrick denied them. But before the last grains of sand slipped from the upper chamber to the lower, the only thought that occupied his mind was that of a swift and merciful death.
Ten hours of hell went by before a nearly unconscious Reyne was dragged from the chamber.
Passing out immediately, Reyne would not awaken for days, and when he finally did, he found himself in a large comfortable bed that wasn’t his, in a luxurious chamber that wasn’t his, with a pretty girl with long dark hair hovering above him that he didn’t know.
"Shh. Try not to speak yet,” the girl crooned in a soothing tone. ''Your throat is too raw."
Reyne tried to sit up, wanting to find out who she was, but his throat was scorched, and he found himself unable to utter a single coherent word.
She lifted a glass of cool water to his lips. "Here, drink this, it will help.”
Reyne hungrily drank the cool, refreshing fluid, then whispered hoarsely. “W-Who?"
"I'm Lena,” she told him. "Your new slave.''
Slave? Why would he own a slave? Other than Mordrick, only Ramachii were allowed to have personal slaves.
A dreadful thought entered his mind.
Reyne quickly glanced at his arm. It was then he noticed the white bandage carefully wrapped around his left bicep.
Reyne began ripping the strips away from his flesh.
Lena tried to stop him, but he refused to be deterred. Once the bandages were removed, Reyne could do nothing but stare in horror at what lay underneath. There, on his upper arm was the Ramachii symbol of a hunter, a metal implant beneath the puckered and reddened tattoo.
It was the same symbol he had been trained to wear and had spent most of his life anticipating the privileges that came with such a rank.
However, that was before he knew just what he coveted.
Before he knew what kind of evil he would be duty-bound to serve.
As he continued to stare down at the fierce raptor tattoo, he realized that Mordrick had just ended any attempt on his part to help the Taleari. If there was only one thing he had learned during his stay with the rebellion, it was that the Ramachii were just as hated as Mordrick himself.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Reyne cursed this twist of fate.
The people would never accept his help now. Even if he did manage to try and give it.
The following day he received a summons from Mordrick.
With Lena’s help, a still weakened Reyne reluctantly dressed in his Ramachii regalia—the standard military uniform with an added scarlet mantle, secured to his shoulders with matching silver brooches.
Grunting in pain, he pushed open the throne room doors, his gut clenching with dread.
Mordrick waited for him to approach the throne before he stood and gracefully descended the dais to greet Reyne.
In his hand, he held a silver armband. Mordrick’s lips twisted.
“This was Luther’s. My guards removed it from the rebel scum who attempted to infiltrate my fortress.
It is now yours.” He tossed the heavy silver to Reyne who caught it mid-air.
“I have no doubt you will make a formidable Ramachii.”
Reyne clutched the armband, wishing it would break beneath the force of his grip.
He should have been impressed with the intricacy of the design that was forged by the fortress druids.
He should have felt privileged by the honor bestowed upon him.
He should have felt pride. He should have felt all those things and more.
Indeed, years ago, he would have.
But now all he felt was a deep hatred for Mordrick and a burning desire to right the atrocities he had been honor-bound to commit. With a silent vow to somehow make amends, he slid the armband up his arm, despising the feel of the cold heavy silver against his raw sensitive skin.
Reyne forced a weak smile. “Thank you.”
Mordrick narrowed his eyes, then grinned with perverse satisfaction. “Ah. I see hate in your eyes. You can’t hide it, Reyne. Good.”
“Hate?” Reyne questioned, his tone as frigid as ice. “I assure you uncle, I feel nothing.”
“Even better,” Mordrick released a humorless laugh.
“About Lena…” Reyne started. “I don’t want a slave. Take her back.” He knew slaves were a privilege bestowed upon the Ramachii. But he didn’t care.
She would be just another reminder of his new, unwanted life.
“You will keep her, Reyne. Make any attempt to release her and I will have her executed. You understand me, right?”
Understanding completely, Reyne jerked his chin.
“Good. Now go. I have no need of a hunter’s expertise right now.
I suggest that you do as other Ramachii hunters have done.
Take one of our smaller crafts and comb the galaxy in search of bounty.
It will keep your hunting skills honed and practiced.
I will send word to you when your skills are needed here. "
The thought of escaping Talear—Mordrick especially, appealed to him, so he left immediately, throwing himself into his new work. He quickly discovered that he enjoyed hunting for bounty. Bringing the scum of the galaxy to justice was satisfying, and the money wasn’t bad either.
When he finally returned to Talear several months later, he was fifteen hundred tokeneks richer.
Knowing what must be done, he left the fortress disguised as a commoner and hunted down a water merchant in Istabella. After purchasing as many water barrels as his tokeneks could buy, he made the arrangements to have the barrels delivered to the well.
A rumor quickly spread that it was once again filled. While still in disguise, he was stopped before he could leave town by a curious townsperson. “What name do we give the people when they ask who is responsible for the water?”
Keeping his face hidden in the shadows of his cowl, Reyne replied. “Odin Masters.”