by Mike Simmons
Brandon heard the trexalite poisoning could not be cured and one could not recover from the effects, even if healed. He proved, but also disproved, that theory. After revealing he had the gift, he demonstrated his ability to Galadin and his men. After much practice, he no longer needed to concentrate to pull at the power within him. Including himself, the seven men in his tunnel gave him all the practice he needed to improve. Cuts and scrapes, even broken bones, became trivial against Brandon's ability to heal, but he could not alter the ever-growing radiation damage. He tried, but it did not matter who he tried to heal, or how he tried to envision it, the result was still the same: the damage could not be fixed. This proved the theory, but Brandon found one exception: he could heal himself.
Although difficult, Brandon could reverse the damage. He could heal a broken leg or a cracked skull easier, but each night Brandon sat in his bed and summoned continuous flow of his power. He focused on the power settling over him, as a blanket would. The colors did not change by themselves; he had to force them and they changed slowly, but they did change.
Brandon learned his ability well enough that small cuts and scrapes on his body healed themselves with no conscious effort involved; it appeared when he needed it and vanished as fast as it came when he did not.
It did not take long for Brandon to establish himself as a 'trouble-maker' with Florian. Since the first day of captivity, Brandon's tolerance with the way he and his fellow captives were treated ran thin. Brandon would not endure the mean and pitiless abuse that all men faced each day in the caves, even if he had not grown strong and powerful. He understood they were slaves and mined a metal that would eventually kill them, but random beatings and senseless torture pushed Brandon to the edge. He stood up for himself and those around him; he fought back. Two different times, he hit Florian in the face. One of those times, Galadin fell unconscious from worsening trexalite poisoning, and Florian tried to wake him by beating him with his paddle. Brandon broke Florian's nose, showering him with blood. Another time, he busted the handle of a pick over another slave driver's head because the slave driver would not stop kicking a fallen miner, also sick from poisoning. Other days, Brandon just felt rebellious; he refused to work once because Florian did not say 'please.' Each time, the Bauth'Dok punished him; beating and starving him. Each time he would smile, welcoming the punishment in defiance. One time, he got locked inside a crate and left in the mine without food or water for two days.
Brandon learned a great deal about the Bauth'Dok and their minions. Each slave driver had a small black chain around his neck, connected to a red glowing rock that rested in the center of his chest. Besides their leather boots and loincloths, they wore nothing else. At first, Brandon thought the rock put them under Bauth'Dok control, but he witnessed a situation that told him otherwise. A fight broke out between two miners from another mineshaft as Florian led their group into the mines. Florian and the other slave driver broke into the crowd to stop the fighting. In the scuffle, Florian's necklace tore from his neck. As the two slave drivers beat the men with their paddles, the two Bauth'Dok guards that monitored the cave entrance came to investigate the noise. When they approached, everyone dropped to a knee. The two creatures approached the slave drivers and spoke in a series of hisses and clicks. It did not appear that Florian could understand what they said until he reattached his necklace. Each slave driver wore one, making it possible to understand the wishes of their masters.
Brandon also bet that the Bauth'Dok could not tell if their prisoners had the Gift. One of the captives, gifted in elementalism, attempted to fight his way out of the caves right in front of Brandon and the others. He burned an unsuspecting Bauth'Dok and turned his fire towards another, but before he could focus the flame on the second creature, three Bauth'Dok turned their trexalite-powered staves on him. Brandon turned his head away as the dying screams of the Gifted dulled into stillness. That raised a question: why would the Bauth'Dok allow Gifted to walk amongst the other slaves when they had the power to hurt or kill? The answer: they did not know if a captive had the gift.
Day after day Brandon mined the trexalite; a metal that amplified the power of a Gifted. A hard, black, porous material encased the metal. He did not know how it formed, or what material surrounded it, but he did know the danger of it. The amounts of trexalite they found were small, mostly flakes or smaller. The Bauth'Dok melted the metal and forged it to their liking. How they did this, no one knew, but the miners could hear the clang of the hammers, pounding and shaping the metal, every hour of the day.
The morning started cool, same as the one yesterday, and as the one he would have tomorrow. Brandon rolled over on the giant rock floor he used as his bed and opened his eyes. He propped himself up with his hands, looking over Galadin and his other friends. In an instant, he touched his power. Like a colored lens dropped in front of his eyes, the flesh tones of the men around him turned to brilliant hues of yellow and orange. He raised his hand out in front of his face. Blue. Why can I only save myself? It isn't fair. I don't know how much more death I can handle before I lose it. I hope Edward and Jasmine are okay.
His thoughts trailed off as he heard the familiar footsteps of his slave driver approaching.
"Galadin! Hugh! Guys, wake up!" he said, shaking Galadin's shoulder. Galadin did not look good. His skin, under Brandon's gift, spread mostly yellow, with small patches of orange along his hands and face. Galadin's eyes opened up, weary and slow, as he attempted a small smile. Brandon released the magic.
"Brandon, good morning, friend. I had a dream about you," Galadin said slowly as Florian entered their bedding area.
"Get up! Time to go to work!" he yelled, smacking his paddle in his palm. Florian used to leave his paddle at the cave entrance like the other slave drivers, but ever since Brandon started to fight back, it seemed Florian never walked without it. The men pulled themselves to their feet. Brandon hooked his hands under Galadin's arms and helped him up.
"You sick again, elf? You aren't pulling your weight," Florian said, but before he could finish, Brandon's head turned sideways, giving him a hateful glare.
"Shut your mouth, Florian," Brandon said as his lip curled in anger. Florian had little patience for sick miners, especially Galadin, because he fell sick more than the others. His malice could be seen as he stared at Galadin.
Florian looked back towards the way he entered, back towards the central Bauth'Dok city. Brandon moved his head to see around Florian to see what he looked at. The Bauth'Dok Blademaster stood by the wall twenty feet back; a bad sign. The Blademaster was unique. He wore a thin black crown which had finger-like blades that extended straight upward from the metal head band. Strapped to his back were his two swords, crafted from trexalite, making the appearance of an "X" that reached up past his shoulders. He was the one, the king. Florian and the rest of the slave drivers, as well as the Bauth'Dok staff holders and guards, answered to him. Usually, he would sit in his black throne at the top of the city. For him to make an appearance, something had to be happening.
The dark-skinned creature gave Florian an eyeless nod. As Florian turned his head back towards Brandon and the men, he smiled.
"You," he said, dragging the word out in disgust. "Stand back towards the wall. I won't be having any trouble from you now. Back up."
Brandon could not figure out why the Blademaster had showed up. That made him uncomfortable. He lowered his head to look right into Galadin's eyes.
Speaking softly, Brandon said, "You okay, friend? Will you be alright?"
Galadin gave him a smile, "Yes, don't get yourself hurt over me. I am fine. I promise." Brandon could tell he did not tell the truth, but he did as Florian told him and took a few steps back towards the wall.
"Everyone, heads down, get your carts, and start working. We have some business we need to attend to," he said, staring right at Brandon. "I will be down shortly. If you waste any time, you will be punished. Don't disappoint me, now get moving!" Florian pushed the men out of th
e bedding area. Galadin looked back towards Brandon, worried.
"I'll be fine, Galadin. I will see you in a bit. Go on. It's okay."
Galadin moved towards the pathways that lead down to the carts. He did not moving as fast as the other men, and as he passed Florian, Florian turned and hit him across the back with his paddle. Galadin crashed into the ground, yelling out in pain. Florian landed a solid kick into Galadin's ribs before Brandon's fist struck Florian across the face. As Florian fell to the ground on his hand and knees, Brandon reared his leg back and kicked him as hard as he could in the side, lifting Florian off the ground. Brandon's rage towards the white-haired slave driver burned. He moved over to attack Florian again. The air behind him shimmered as two Bauth'Dok appeared out of nowhere. They pointed their staves towards Brandon. Two blue and white arcs of electricity cracked through the air as they struck Brandon in the back. Brandon's arms shot out to the side and his head went upward as his muscles spasmed out of control. He yelled but it could not be heard over the static of the electric energy. Brandon fell to the ground, unconscious.
An evil smile came across Florian's face as he propped his body up on his elbow.
"I told you, you would get yours," he said. "I told you."
The two Bauth'Dok walked over and picked Brandon up, dragging him out of the sleeping quarters. They pulled him through the streets, and following the Blademaster, took him to the top of the city. Florian followed them.
The throne area opened up from the lower pathway. The black throne sat up against the wall on a small, elevated terrace. The smooth and polished rock floor lead up to the throne, where it lent view over the whole city. The Blademaster took his seat as the two other creatures dropped Brandon to the floor. Brandon regained consciousness. The two Bauth'Dok walked towards the throne and stood behind the king. Florian walked past Brandon and dropped to a knee in front of them all.
"I told you he was trouble. He needs to be changed. He has always been rebellious, and I am afraid he is giving the other men the idea that they may do the same. You need . . ." The Bauth'Dok king interrupted Florian by a series of hisses and clicks.
Florian nodded his head as the creature spoke. Brandon looked up and watched as Florian answered the Blademaster with a quick "yes." Brandon pulled himself up. As he stood, the two Bauth'Dok guards standing behind the Blademaster took a few steps forward and held their staves out. Brandon glared at them all. Florian rose and turned towards Brandon, blood still leaking from the side of his eye where Brandon hit him.
"We'll have no more problems from you, boy. We are going to fix you up good," Florian said with a sneer across his face. Brandon looked right into Florian's eyes.
"You aren't going to do anything, Florian. You can never break my will. I am stronger than you are, and no amount of torture or punishment will ever change that. I am here because I haven't figured a way to get out yet."
Florian scoffed, "There is no getting out. Soon, you will be on my side."
The crowned Bauth'Dok stood and with the wave of his hand, he motioned Florian out of the way. Brandon had never before been as defiant. He stood tall with shoulders back as the odd creature approach him. It began speaking. Brandon looked into its mouth as it talked, looking at its two rows of thin, sharp teeth, one behind the other. It had razor thin lips that barely covered its teeth. The creature stopped right in front of Brandon. Its eyeless gaze penetrated him. Brandon could hear Florian in the background.
"Here it goes!" he said, seeming excited.
The creature's face drew all of Brandon's attention; it pulled at him. Brandon lost focus of everything around him as he became lightheaded. He stared at its dark, maroon-colored skin, feeling small tickles within the corners of his mind. Brandon's head filled with thoughts and ideas that were not his own. The Bauth'Dok people are protecting themselves from the evil that harbors in the outside world. The Bauth'Dok are not evil. They mine the metal for protection, for power, and for survival. The Bauth'Dok are unable to have children, but because of the metal, they have figured out how to have everlasting life. The Bauth'Dok are not evil. They have to have the metal to survive. The men on the outside want the metal for themselves. They are the evil ones. The Bauth'Dok are not evil. The Bauth'Dok capture the evil men on the outside to help them attain their metal, and to make them pay for their evil ways. It is not their metal, it is ours. The humans that were captured are evil. They must earn forgiveness, and only in their death shall they have it. We are not evil. We must make the evil men mine the metal so that we may survive. We are the Bauth'Dok.
The creature that wore the black, bladed crown shaped Brandon's thoughts. They were so effortless and fluid that Brandon would not have noticed the change in his thoughts, but something inside of him clicked. He felt the magical fingers of the creature inside of his mind. He felt the strings of his own ideas and morals shift. This was not mind-control; this was will-bending. He remembered what Edward had told him as they sat around the fire, many months ago.
"People of Will are a rare breed. Their magic can alter the strings of free will, or bar strands of personal will from being broken. I haven’t seen anyone gifted in the Will aspect of Spirit since I was a child." Edward told him.
A real life will-bender, and now Brandon faced one. No. I cannot fall victim to this. I am Brandon Pike. I am a good person. What they are doing is wrong. Slavery, in any right, is evil. These creatures torture and hurt innocent people. They take these people away from their families. Most end up dying. No. I will not allow this. This is going to stop now.
Brandon pulled at his gift, flooding his senses in a cool rush. The wave of energy cleansed the foreign magic within his mind and cut the strings that pulled at him like a massive weight.
"Out of my head, creature! I am not yours to toy with!" he yelled at the crowned Bauth'Dok with fired defiance. The Bauth'Dok king stepped backwards, and although he did not have eyes on his snake-like face, Brandon thought if he did, they would have showed surprise. The creature turned its head towards the other two Bauth'Dok, then back towards Brandon. Still keeping its head facing Brandon, it spoke in hisses and clicks. Florian looked at Brandon as if he saw a ghost.
"Back . . . to the sleeping quarters with you," Florian stuttered, still looking shocked. Brandon ran his eyes over the creatures one more time, and turned back towards the city. As Brandon walked back towards the sleeping rock, things seemed different. For the first time, he felt empowered. He felt that maybe, just maybe, he was supposed to do something out of the ordinary. Did he have the tools to be a hero? No. I am an ordinary man that refuses to be walked upon. Anyone would do what I have done, if put into my shoes. Even though he tried to tell himself that, Brandon did not know if other people could do what he had done. He walked into the bedding area and sat. Two Bauth'Dok trailed behind and stood by the walking path, standing guard.
Inside of the caves, one could not differentiate between day or night, but Brandon's stomach told him that he should have eaten already. Today would be another one of the days he went without food. He sat alone, staring up at the two Bauth'Dok guards that watched the paths leading into the city. Brandon wondered why the Bauth'Dok did not put him back to work after his meeting with the Blademaster. He wondered many things. Why did the slave drivers have white hair, because of the will-bending process? What would happen now that he resisted the Bauth'Dok king? How could he stop the Blademaster from altering his thoughts? Would he ever get out of these caves alive?
Brandon leaned back against the wall and pulled his skullcap over his eyes. He would have to talk to Galadin and hear his thoughts on the matter.
Brandon woke up to the sounds of the others coming back from their work. Galadin lead them, and even though he did not look well, he walked without aid and spread a smile for Brandon as he entered the sleeping area.
"Good to see you, friend," Galadin said, exhausted. It did not matter how often they mined, the captives would never get used to it.
"How are you feeling, Gal
adin?" Brandon said, as Galadin sat next to him.
"I feel like I mine metal for a race of spiteful creatures, and I am tired. I am getting sicker every day. I don't know how much longer I can do this. I don't know how much longer I am going to sur. . ."
Brandon cut him off. "Stop thinking that. You are going to be fine. We are going to get out of here. You are not going to die."
Galadin chuckled. "I wish I had your optimism. I don't think we can get out by ourselves, and I don't think anyone is going to fight the Bauth'Dok to save us. For all we know, our friends and family think we are dead."
"Look, something happened today. After you went down to the mines, Florian took me to the Bauth'Dok Blademaster. Florian told me that I wouldn't be causing any more trouble and that I would be on his side. He told the Blademaster that I needed to be changed," Brandon said.
Galadin watched Brandon speak.
"The Bauth'Dok king came up to me and he somehow got inside of my head. I could feel him digging around in my mind. I started to think like them. I started to feel how they feel. I don't know how it happened. As he was changing my thoughts, I stopped him. I washed away his filthy manipulations, and after, I was brought back here. Something happened to me up there. Something changed."
"I don't know, Brandon. That might not be a good thing. Maybe they know you can heal. You are the only one around here that isn't dying. We need to get out of here. I found this today," Galadin said, looking around to make sure no one watched them. He pulled out a piece of trexalite coated in pieces of black rock, the size of his thumbnail. Galadin scraped it along his pant leg, trying to get some of the rocky bits off the raw metal.
Brandon spoke in a hushed voice. "Galadin! What are you doing? If they find out that you have that, you are going to be punished! And you can't keep that, you are too sick to take any more radiation!" Brandon's emotions ran wild. The black casing held more trexalite than they had seen since their mining began.