“Wake up you bastards and get a move on!”
The shout resounded through the barracks. It was instantly drowned out by the sounds of soldiers. Their moans as they arose. Their armour clanging as it was hastily adorned. Soon, the fifty four soldiers of the twenty seventh battalion of the third legion of the Gratharian army had assembled outside the barracks. Audrus was one of them.
Ever since that distant day of the death of his parents, he had been in the military. Now, ten years later, he hated it just as much as he did then. There was only one difference, he was used to it. He had been trained into being used to it. He had sat through tortuous 're-education' sessions. He remembered them clearly, how could he not?
The officer shouting at the little boy. Telling him what was right and what was wrong. Telling him what to think and when to think it. It had taken two years for the little boy to crack, but he had.
Audrus stood amongst his fellow soldiers. The officer paced up and down in front of them. “Right soldiers!”, he shouted in his bone-chilling voice, “you know the drill! You will run from here to the camp site across the valley. The last one to get back will sleep in the dungeon!” He wasn't kidding. Audrus remembered the long and painful night a few years back when he had come last.
“Yes sir!” shouted Audrus in unison with the other fifty three soldiers. They all started to run. It was a mass of bodies, each one desperately trying to get ahead of the man in front of him. Here in the military, nobody is a friend. Everyone is an enemy.
Audrus sprinted ahead of the man in front of him. He didn't want to come last, but he wanted the reward of the winner. It was perfectly simple, first to camp gets twice the meal. Two meals! That was a tantalising thought for Audrus, one that drove him in front of the main pack. He had forgotten that only ten years ago he used to eat three meals a day.
Ahead were only a few sprinters. These were the scouts and archers mainly as the soldiers were too stocky to run like those men did. But Audrus had an advantage. He was not quite human, he was in fact half elf on his father's side. This gave him a God advantage over his fellow soldiers.
He sprinted for a bit before returning to a fast jog. He was gaining on the leaders. The run took the soldiers across the valley of Grathor. It was a long run and it gave Audrus all the time he needed. He breathed slowly and evenly, tensed and relaxed muscles, rolled joints, preparing for the final stretch. At the final hundred metres, he sprinted like lightning. He ran straight past the top few who watched helplessly as he overtook them and entered the camp.
Audrus nearly collapsed with exhaustion, but spent the last of his energy trying to look tough for the Officers, who came towards him with their usual menacing look. “I won! I won! Can I have my reward sir?” he said with excitedly. Excitement. How he missed the feeling. This new found feeling didn't last long, however, as the officer let out a bellowing roar of laughter. “You! A reward?”, he looked at Audrus sarcastically, “You are a halfbreed. You aren't good enough to clean the S*** off my boots, never mind get a reward! Get out of my sight mongrel!”
Audrus was crushed. He felt his short-lived enjoyment rush out of him as a wave of sadness and self pity replace it. But in amongst this sea of gloom was a spark. The spark flared and spread across the stormy seas. Soon the flames covered the entire surface of Audrus' wrecked mind. This flame was anger. Audrus exploded into rage. He screamed and started hitting the officer. All of his anger that had been bottled up for the last eight years was released on that single night. Soon, the officer was heavily bruised and lay on the ground, cowering before the half-elf.
Officers flooded into the area and grabbed Audrus by his arms. He gave no struggle, all his anger was out. The was replaced with a barren landscape. This land was filled with earthquakes and storms. This land of nervousness consumed his entire mind, as he was to spend the night in the dungeon.
* * * * * *
The first thing to hit Audrus was the stench. The God-awful stench that could give an army of skunks something to think about. “Sleep tight!” laughed the jailor as he pushed Audrus down the stairs. He tumbled and crashed until at last he reached the dank and dark dungeon. Above he heard the door close, taking with it not only the jailor, but the light too.
The dungeon was consequently plunged into darkness. Unable to see Audrus sat calmly on the floor, trying to breath slowly and deeply, through his mouth to avoid the smell. He lifted one arm, his right, but a jolt of pain coursed up it. He dropped it to the muddy ground. Carefully, without stressing his arm, he rose to his feet. Something wet flowed over his lips. He felt this wetness...blood. Audrus stood in silence for what felt like hours, listening for any signs of life, looking for any signs of light. None on both accounts.
Audrus decided to find an exit. He painfully took a step before collapsing in a heap. This was useless, he wasn't going to get out. It was so unfair. His entire life was so unfair. His parents, the re-education, the race. They made his life hell. Audrus started to weep like never before. The fire of anger returned and he let out a scream of what felt like rage and grief.
“Who's there?”, came a voice from somewhere in the dungeon. Audrus lifted his face from his hands. “Hello?”, came the voice again, “I know someone's there, please answer.” The voice sounded sad and painful. “It's me!” replied Audrus, calling to the voice, “I am Audrus of the twenty seventh battalion!” He took a step towards the voice. “Thank God,” said the voice, “I am so lonely. My name is Rurik of KhaZar.” Audrus took another step and tripped over a crouching figure. Without words of apology, he sat down besides the figure which he presumed to be Rurik.
“I don't believe I've ever seen you before Rurik,” said Audrus questioningly. “No, I don't believe you have. I have spent the last seven years in this dungeon, fed every few days by the guard” Rurik coughed, “What are you in for then Audrey?” Audrus adjusted his position and sat up straight before answering the prisoner. “My name is Audrus actually, and the officers threw me in here because I am a halfblood.” Audrus slumped back down and started to weep. “Halfblood!” cried Rurik, “Do not worry lad, I am here for the same reasons. I am in fact half dwarf. I am so glad there is another like me.” Rurik seemed to cry with joy, “All my live I've had to live with the names 'Halfblood', 'Mongrel'. It is harsh.”
For the rest of the night, Audrus and Rurik talked about important things like their history and their pain, but also of trivial things like the weather, the food and how wet it is in the dungeon. Hours later, the two fell asleep. Rurik snored in a deep sleep, but Audrus' slumber was on a knife edge. He had nightmares of things that have happened an things yet to come. He saw demons with swords. He saw armies slaughter. He saw slums full of thieves. He saw nothing.
