That evening, Vermon teleported from his private quarters to the isolation room to see for himself the tree that grew because of Orb. Unable to comprehend how that could happen, Vermon only knew that Orb had unlimited abilities and hidden powers he did not know about.

As soon as Vermon appeared in the place, he was stunned by the strange scene in the isolation room. He stood gazing silently with furrowed brows around the cold and quiet place. He forgot to breathe for the first time in his life as the dreary cold place he knew turned into a small green spot, but too eerie and sad.

The long square-shaped pillar, which used to be polished and devoid of anything save a few discipline tools on each side, had changed. Vermon saw long and short branches sprouting out of it, extending in density and height to the ceiling from all directions and laden with green leaves of different sizes.

There were tiny white flowers and thin, wispy stems hanging from these branches, delicate in appearance and filling the air with their fragrance. Dark green vines climbed and spread around the four corners of the room and crept along the ground around the pillar.

There, Vermon saw a branch holding Orb by the waist. He was sitting on the ground and leaning with his back against the pillar. The white pillowcase was still over Orb’s face. His lower legs were bare and bruised. His chest was heaving as he seemed to struggle with his breathing, and his hands were resting on the floor.

Is he asleep? But how did he free himself and dissolve my chain? Vermon wondered.

“Orb?” Vermon called with a low but firm voice. He took another step forward. “Orb? Are you awake?” As soon as he touched one of the branches, another branch suddenly emerged from the pillar and aimed to strike Vermon’s chest with astonishing speed and force, but he blocked it with his arm in time and smashed it into pieces.

It never occurred to Vermon that a pillar would regard him as a possible threat and launch an attack on him. There was not enough time to think, for another strike came at him from another branch, and he dodged the sharp thorny tip, which formed into a deadly weapon, aiming to slash his neck. Vermon freed his axe from his belt, struck back, and cut the vicious wood.

Vines crept quickly around him and wrapped around his legs and torso, but he slashed them with his blade, kicked them angrily with his feet, and cursed. He summoned his Uthusian energy into his limbs and was about to channel it into his double-blade axe to set the entire pillar on fire, but he had second thoughts as he saw Orb’s back still resting against it.

Vermon’s arm movement was incredibly faster and smoother than the branches and vines, and while he fought hard to cut them and keep them away, he noticed the gradual loss of their vitality as time passed. He also wondered why these things were not attacking Orb.

He glanced at Orb and noticed that while his thin bony hands were resting on the ground, his knuckles were twitching continuously. Nothing else was moving from his body except his prominent pink knuckles, in a particular rhythm.

“Why, you little schemer!” Vermon shouted, then chuckled.

Vermon vanished and smashed the branch which was supporting Orb. He then appeared standing between Orb’s outstretched legs. Smirking, Vermon pulled Orb’s clothes to lift him in the air, meaning to hit him, but Orb twisted his left palm in the air, and a branch pushed Vermon and pinned him to the opposite wall.

Vermon vanished again and remained invisible as he walked over to where Orb was standing.

“So, you can manipulate wood, too?” he questioned excitedly. Vermon stood facing Orb and added, “Not only did you release a tree on my own property without my permission, but you also pretended to be asleep to control it with your ugly bones and attack me!”

Vermon showed himself at the same time he paralyzed Orb’s movement and left him standing. “You will not be able to control it any longer. The attacks grew weaker and slower, and I knew you were at your limit.”

Vermon pulled the pillowcase and saw Orb’s face. It was pale, frowning, and wet.

“I had fun. What about you?” Vermon sounded earnest as he examined Orb’s face. “What is this stink?” Vermon was stunned. He just realized that Orb had wet his pants. How could this happen? Why would a grown man wet himself? This defiant, stubborn, intelligent, and dangerous slave of mine! Why? Was the reason his feeling cold? Was he really frightened? Or was it because I tied him up for hours since noon?

Vermon had the chance to make use of Orb’s embarrassment and mock the young man’s visible fury and inability to move and resist him, but he did not. He could not.

“Were you crying for a long time because of me?” He wiped Orb’s nose with the dirty pillowcase and cast it aside. “I am not allowing you to speak because I’m worried you will say something that infuriates me, and I do not want to abuse you more than I did today,” he admitted.

Vermon expected to see more interesting facial expressions, but he saw Orb close his eyes in a subdued manner and struggle with his shortness of breath for some time. At that moment, the branches began to dry out, the flowers to wilt, and the leaves to change colors and fall in profusion. Vermon took a step back and pulled Orb away from the falling branches.

 His energy has waned. Good, Vermon felt relieved.

Vermon released Orb and left him staggering a few steps toward the nearest wall before sitting down. Vermon then saw Riecho gaping at the mess while standing by the open door with the medicine tray in her hands.

“Riecho, put the tray aside and bring Huhu and the others to help you clean the place at once,” Vermon commanded.

***

It took the servants several minutes to clear away the logs and twigs and to clean the ground of the dried-up leaves and vines. It was a strange sight, and neither Vermon nor Riecho offered any explanation to the men of how this mess had been created.

Vermon looked at the pillar, which stood with scratches and cracks, and sighed at the sad spectacle. The whip and ropes were restored to their places as they fell on the ground during all the commotion.

While waiting for Riecho to finish mopping the floor, Vermon turned to Orb, who did not move the whole time. He sensed something strange about him. What’s he thinking? Is he not feeling well? Did I overdo it? Should I summon Luba? Vermon could not help worrying.

Following the unintentional release of a tree from a piece of wood, Orb strongly desired to vent his frustration after being humiliated and physically and mentally abused.

He was unsure whether he dozed off or fainted; however, as soon as he came around, he quietly wept and struggled to breathe. Then he realized he still had some energy to channel into the natural object he revived and wanted to strike back at Vermon, who mistreated him.

Hence, he stayed still and waited for his tormentor to come despite his exhausted limbs and stinging legs. He wanted to hold Vermon upside down by his ankles, strip him naked, cut him in many places, and leave him suffering humiliation in front of his servants.

Now that he had lost the battle again and felt extremely drained, Orb could not think about anything except taking his medicine and going to sleep. The presence of Vermon made him remember the pain in his arms and thighs because of the pressure of the chains a few hours ago.

When the commotion inside the room almost stopped, Orb guessed that the cleaning was over, so he stood up and supported himself with the nearest wall as he walked toward the corner where he slept. He picked up a clean, folded pair of pants and headed to the door.

Vermon, who was standing aside, furrowed his eyebrows. “Where do you think you are going?” he questioned.

“I need to—clean myself,” Orb responded quietly.

“Ah, yes. Of course,” Vermon understood Orb’s need to wash and change his pants in the washroom, and hence, he motioned for Huhu to follow Orb behind.

Orb left the cold room and got exposed to the chilly night breeze sweeping across the dimly lighted yard, but that sensation invading his bones did not distress him as much as the sensation he experienced in the isolation room that day.

It was agonizing to think about confining him in a remote and cold room, binding him to a post with diabolically painful chains, tormenting him physically with a dirty pillowcase and a whip, and leaving him without care for a long time.

Yet, the embarrassment and humiliation he experienced because of wetting his pants were much worse. But he didn’t laugh. He didn’t mock me. Orb sighed. He was too exhausted to cry again.

When Orb returned to the isolation room, Huhu was about to push him inside but restrained himself and stayed outside in his usual post. His master and Riecho, still inside the room, apparently waited for Orb’s return.

Vermon turned and observed Orb with curiosity as he walked over to his corner, took his thin quilt, and wrapped his body with it before walking across the room to the disciplinary pillar.

What is he planning to do? Vermon doubted his intentions.

***

Orb’s steps were careful and slow, but he assumed his former sitting position as soon as he reached the pillar. The sharp sting of Vermon’s flogging bit into his flesh, leaving both legs trembling slightly under the quilt. While leaning his head back, he faced the open window with his hands still clutching the quilt.

The bandages on Orb’s back were soaked through with his excessive sweat. He felt discomfort but did his best not to show it. He did not want to be touched by anyone again that night.

Vermon was still standing in his place by the window, gazing at the pale face in front of him. “So you can manipulate water, air, and wood. What else? What about fire?” Vermon questioned calmly.

“Aren’t you going to leave me alone?” Orb coughed, “Can’t you find other things to relieve your boredom?” Orb did not sound mocking, but rather exhausted.

Yet, Vermon walked over to Orb and sat down to his left. “No, I won’t leave,” he watched Orb closely as he breathed with difficulty. This annoying wheezing! Vermon sighed.

Vermon motioned for Riecho to approach with the medicine tray, and she placed the tray on the floor next to her master and retreated. Vermon held his arms around his knees as he watched Orb looking intently at the dark sky through the open window.

“What are you looking at?” Vermon asked curiously.

“Stars are glowing around the brilliant moon,” Orb struggled to say after a moment of silence.

Vermon said nothing about the dark sky which Orb described at that moment. His bright eyes remained fixed on Orb.

“Aren’t you going to tell me how you released that tree?”

“...”

“Did you form it to attack me?”

“…”

“Did you wait for long?”

Vermon asked these questions quietly. When he got no response from his slave, he said, “All right. Maybe you did not mean it. Maybe your energy wasn’t stable,” he sighed.

“Maybe,” Orb responded.

“Does the seal restrain you from answering my questions?” Without waiting for an answer, Vermon began to mix the medicine with water in the bowl while glancing at Orb now and then. When the mixture was ready, Vermon held Orb’s right hand and placed the bowl in it.

“You can take the medicine yourself, but you will be punished,” Vermon warned. However, Orb did not react; instead, he held the bowl quietly, his face looking pale and haggard. Then he closed his eyes and started sipping the bitter mix cautiously and slowly until he finished the bowl.

“Are you angry because of today’s punishment?” Vermon questioned again.

Orb put the empty bowl aside, turned to Vermon, and was really perplexed at how to answer his question.

“Which punishment? The first? The second? The third?—Or the upcoming one?” Orb asked while rubbing his left eye.

Hell, why are you saying it like that? Fine! I overdid it but it’s your black energy’s fault! Staring at Orb’s pale face, Vermon felt guilty. He didn’t eat after his second dose and my punishment. I forgot to instruct Riecho to feed him in my absence.

Vermon examined his own hands, which were scarred and wounded. The bleeding stopped, but … I failed again. It doesn’t look like I will win against Akinos in controlling myself and caring for him. Ah, I am hopeless.

Meanwhile, Orb believed that Vermon returned to the isolation room just to enjoy his time and act as if nothing had happened. He did not apologize or even express remorse for what he did; unexpectedly, that was not Orb’s biggest concern.  

Neither apology nor remorse could heal his heart.

Even though Orb was extremely upset about what Vermon did to him at first, he understood that Vermon punished him for a reason. Whether that reason was legitimate, Orb did not have the power to stop or resist him.

Orb wished he could speak to Vermon honestly and cry his heart out. He wanted to tell Vermon about his past, but the seal will not let him. Pondering this, Orb thought that he had fallen into the pit of despair again. I want to know and to hear from you if my enduring all this pain and all this suffering was worth it.

He wished his pain and suffering to end.

Orb did not deny that he was now experiencing a sense of comfort in Vermon’s scent and calm tone of voice. How ironic, he thought to himself. It was not a masochistic tendency, and it was not an act of idealistic forgiveness. Orb knew he was not an angel to easily forget and forgive what Vermon did to him. He only felt the pain of his lungs fading and his airway opening.

Orb knew without a shadow of a doubt that Vermon’s scent could heal his shortness of breath, and it could be the best and fastest treatment for his sick lungs. It felt better than swallowing useless pills that only numb his throat and temporarily relieve him from pain.

 “I’m not angry,” Orb admitted in a low voice after wetting his dry lips.

“Aren’t you angry about today’s punishment? I don’t believe you. You’re too quiet and I find it strange.”

“I’m not lying,” Orb shook his head gloomily.

He has changed. Other than being stubborn every time I gave him his medicine, he doesn’t act defiant. Since I brought him back from the Palace, he has been acting weird. Vermon observed. No, he is not following Akinos’ advice. This is something different. He is unusually … what? What is it?

There was a moment of silence.

Orb then, heard Vermon ordering Riecho to take the tray out of the room and close the door behind her, and she did.

Orb looked at Vermon. Please stay where you are. If I told you about your scent, it would give you another way to torment me. You might decide to keep your distance, and I don’t want that to happen.

Orb rested his head against the pillar and closed his eyes. He quietly breathed in through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. I don’t need the medicine Jerboa gave me. I need you. How ironic! I sometimes worry about your stalking and mistreating me, but now, I worry about your keeping a distance from me.

Watching him intently, Vermon knew Orb was trying to slow his breathing. “Relax but don’t fall asleep. I still want to talk to you,” he solemnly said.

***

The two spent some time in silence, during which Vermon listened to Orb breathe. His breathing slowed and the wheezing gradually calmed.

“Awake?”

Orb did not answer but instead opened his eyes and looked at Vermon.

“Hmm? How’re your legs?” Vermon asked without apparent emotion and paused, waiting for a response from Orb, who continued looking at him in silence. “You know that I was lenient with you today? I didn’t like to see your thin calves bleed, so you should thank me.”

 Orb slightly parted his lips, feeling his heart racing at the audacity of Vermon, who abused him today and still demanded a thank you from him. They hurt. They hurt so much, Vermon. Orb was frustrated but said nothing.

What are you thinking? What are you going to do? Vermon wondered. He then moved his hand cautiously in the air in front of Orb’s face, but the latter did not follow. He continued looking at Vermon with his lips slightly parted.

Vermon proceeded to touch the ends of Orb’s curly hair, which was scattered on his forehead, temples, and shoulders, but Orb did not object and showed no signs of discomfort or desire to resist.

 “Leave me alone, Vermon,” Orb wet his lips and spoke in a low voice.

“Vermon again! Aren’t you going to call me master?”

“No.”

Vermon felt flustered after hearing Orb’s short, indifferent response. It’s the same tone! What’s wrong with him? Even though I flogged him, he didn’t get it! Vermon stopped moving his playful hand in front of Orb’s face, worried that Orb would irritate him again. I don’t want to hurt him again.

Vermon decided to change the topic, so he sat cross-legged. “Just yesterday, I got out of the Supreme Minister’s prison, where he tortured me, starved me, and deprived me of sleep for so many days, all because he wanted to get you. Is that how you reward me? The least you can do for me is to talk to me properly and address me as your master. Is it that hard?” he grumbled.

Orb, who was still gazing at Vermon, believed that he was exaggerating and acting childish.

“You say ‘reward?’ If you hadn’t abducted and enslaved me from the beginning, there would have been no rewards between us.”

Orb paused, then added, “If you get me out of this place and treat me well, we’ll have room for discussion.”

 “Ah, Orb, you impose your conditions,” Vermon said with a scornful laugh, “and slaves aren’t supposed to do that!”

Orb tightened his lips, disappointed by Vermon’s answer, who went on in sudden viciousness without raising his voice, “Do you think I need you? Do you think I need you to address me by a title that doesn’t mean anything real to me? Do you think your ways are going to work with me? Haven’t you read in the books you love that the descendants of Uthus have great pride and never compromise their beliefs and principles to please others? I could’ve painted the walls of this place with your blood a long time ago, but I decided not to, and I can do it now if I want.”

Orb looked away from Vermon as he listened to Vermon’s arrogant words. It became clear to him then that Vermon, whatever may have happened in the past or might happen in the future, would never trust Orb completely. As an Uthusian man, Vermon still believed that he should neither trust slaves nor give them absolute freedom, and Orb could not change the fact that he was a slave and would continue to be until he got rid of the seal and won his freedom.

“Hmm, should I punish you for not learning your lesson today?”

“…”

“What do you expect your next punishment to be?” Vermon sounded as if he was looking for any reason to prolong his staying and chatting with Orb.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than just sit here and harass me?” Orb complained. He was at his wit’s end.

“How dare you speak to me like that?” Vermon felt slightly irritated.

“Please, can I sleep now?” He clutched his quilt.

Letting Orb’s behavior slide, Vermon’s conviction that Orb seemed off grew stronger. He stood up quietly and looked down at Orb, who wrapped himself again with the quilt and paid no mind to his surroundings.

Fine! You’ve had a rough day but that was your fault! I’ll let you off this time, but don’t ever provoke me again! Vermon furrowed his brows.

***

“Orb?”

Riecho’s voice startled Orb, who looked up in her direction and smelled the food she brought for him but said nothing. He was agitated that he did not notice Vermon’s leaving the room and her coming in.

“I have no appetite, Riecho,” Orb sighed. “I am so tired and sleepy. I am sorry.”

 ***        

End of Chapter (24)