RE:volt! Chapter 10: Preparing to Cultivate the Red Core

 

Slamming Ark into a tree illuminated by the moonlight, Ninety-Nine shoved the torn piece of parchment into Ark’s face.

“What the hell is this!” Ninety-Ninedemanded, his voice suppressed as to not alert the night patrols or any would-be passerbys. “Who the hell taught you to read?!”

Ark looked down, eyeing the page that held instructions he’d written down for Ninety-Nine.

“You were supposed to burn that.” Ark replied, suddenly finding the house slave’s hand around his throat.

“Who taught you to write?!”

“You did.” Ark replied, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Ninety-Nine.

“Bullshit!”

“That’s not what the Overseer’s will think.”

“And what would they think boy?!” Ninety-Ninespat, his voice rising as his grip tightened. "Huh What will they think?!"

Ark narrowed his eyes. “You’re smart. Figure it out.”

Ninety-Nine scoffed.

“I could kill you boy. Do you understand? I could murder you, snuff out your little life and bury you in these woods.”

Ark looked the man in his eyes, staring directly at the slave whose fear was on clear display on his withered face.

“You could. But you won’t.” Ark said, responding with the resolution and clarity no child his age should possess. “You’re going to help me.”

Staring into Ark’s icey blue eyes, a thought passed in Ninety-Nine"s mind. A thought that remembered all the rumors surrounding the boy he held firmly in his grasp, the child whose first words were not of his mother or his father, but of freedom. An angry hiss filled with rage as he recalled.

Maybe there is some truth to the rumors. Ninety-Nine began to think, the middle-aged man suddenly inspired by the boy who held no fear of death in his eyes.

“What do you need?” Ninety-Nine said, the words leaving his mouth before he realized he said them.

“I need you to break my collar.”

“Impossible.” Ninety-Nine replied immediately.

“Not take it off, just crack it to where it's visible enough to Knight Bruno.” Ark said. “I’d do it myself but I don’t possess the physical strength or tools.”

“Why? What for? What reason could you want to draw the ire of Bruno? You know he’ll beat you until he either gets bored or you die right?”

“I know.” Ark replied. “In two days it will be company marching day. The entire camp will be marching, during that time I need to visit the blacksmith while Bruno and the Helpers are away with all of the warrior trainees.”

“What are you scheming boy? Ninety-Nine narrowed his eyes.

“Freedom.” Ark replied, the man’s jaw clenching at the word.

“Maybe not now. Not tomorrow. But one day. Our shackles will be broken.” Ark said, his voice unwavering. “Do this for me, and one day I’ll repay this debt.”

“You think yourself some savior? The Second Coming of Ark? Here to give us freedom?”

Oh the Irony. Ireliex commented.

“No. I can’t give you freedom. In the truest sense, it’s not something that can be given.” Ark replied, putting his hands on Felon’s wrist. “It’s an adherent right, one that can’t be granted by anyone and owned by everyone. No human should live in shackles like cattle. Like livestock! I can’t give you freedom, but I can give you the opportunity to seize control of your own life!”

At Ark’s words, Ninety-Nine could only stare at the seven year old boy who uttered words with passion he’d long since lost during his many years of servitude.

Freedom? The word was bittersweet in the old slave’s mind. He once dreamed of it, longed for it. But he knew his place in the world.

“Who… what are you?” Ninety-Nine asked, his expression twisting as he released Ark and took a step back, the glare and fury in the boy’s eyes unnerving him. “You’re no child.”

Ark smiled, his hand extending out to the man. “Do this task for me Ninety-Nine. Do it, and I’ll promise one day you’ll be a free man.”

The man looked down at the extended hand illuminated by moonlight, a gesture of respect and binding that was uncommon among slaves. He hesitated, the glare in Ark’s piercing gaze akin to a devil, wondering what he was getting into with the child.

“This is absurd…”Ninety-Nine muttered, his shoulders drooping, the tension leaving his body before he knelt and took the outstretched and calloused hand. “Fine. But if you muck up you’re on your own.”

Ark smiled, the pair shaking hands.

“Don’t worry…. I won’t.” Ark said. “I’ve got it all figured out.”

***

After being deposited back in his barracks with the door bolted by the on duty helper, Ark walked through the rows of sleeping children, heading to his cot where Nine lay, the girl for some reason sleeping in his bed.

The hell? Ark said, wondering what the girl was doing. He reached out, almost waking her up but paused, eyeing the bruises on the girl's body, bruises he himself had.

Ark sighed, his hands clenched into fists before he took a seat on the cold ground, propping his back onto the wall, his arms folded.

Prefer sleeping like this anyway.

You're awfully confident that mongrel won't betray you. Ireliex said, the dragon in his mind laying on her back.

He won't. Ark replied.

Oh, remember the last time you thought that? Now look where you are.

It doesn't matter. Even if he tried to turn me in… I'm just a child. No one would believe him anyway. Ark replied, his eyes darting across the room, the cold wind blowing in from the hole of the roof and caressing his skin through the thin dirty fabric clothing his body.

Just wait…. Just wait you bastards. Ark closed his eyes, attempting to get sleep as another opened, Thirty-Four's eyes shifting from the cot from afar toward the boy who slept with his back to the wall.

****

 

Elsewhere, the Dukedom of Cu-lainn.

Duke Argos Cu-lainn, a middle-aged white-haired man with scars coating his face and arms crossed his gloved fingers, his elbows rested on the desk constructed of expensive Sweetwood and gold that naturally gave off a sweet scent as he sighed.

"How accurate is this information?" Argos demanded, his piercing blue eyes staring at the white-haired servant garbed in black.

"Very Lord Cu-lainn. I verified the information myself."

Duke Argos tapped his desk covered with scattered notes and official papers. "Then that would make him six or seven years old by now."

"Yes sir. By my arithmetic, he should be nearing eight." The man reported.

The Duke narrowed his eyes, looking over battle plans and information.

"Sebastian."

"Yes milord? I stand ready to do your will."

"Bury this. Let no one know."

The servant blinked. "For clarity… are you asking me to dispose of the trash?"

"No! Heavens no. He's the backup. Looks like my idiot son fumbled, giving us an unexpected boon. Bury and silence anyone that may catch wind of this." Argos replied, his hands conjuring a flame and burning the report he held in his hands. "No one outside my study should be aware."

"As you command." The servant said, the pupils in his eyes becoming inhuman for a split second, red irises flashing before they shifted.