Chereads / Gaeger / Chapter 9 - An eye for an eye. . . so make sure you have the last eye.

Chapter 9 - An eye for an eye. . . so make sure you have the last eye.

(POV: Jack)

To say how long we groveled in the dirt would've been difficult. It might have been hours or only minutes. but when we finally decided to get up we looked at each other. We were little more than grounded beef. Purple splashes on every section of our bodies and broken ribs on both sides.

We limped towards our tent to lick our wounds.

Besides being segregated from the group and eating alone, the rest of the days passed uneventfully. The guards were getting ready to move us to the final location, probably a place to sell us out to the highest bidder. Our broken bones finally allowed us to breathe a bit better, we could finally exhale the pus filling our souls. It was time.

I got up, enduring the penetrating pain that traveled through my gut with each movement I made.

But when I opened the tent "So you're finally going" Bolwen spoke to me.

I turned to look at him in the eye, he was trying to get up, supporting himself on one elbow. He continued "Don't you know what prophet Yharni said once? An eye for an eye makes the world go blind."

I stared at the Twin Moons hovering above us. They do look like eyes. I extended my arm to the heavens, making it seem like I was trying to touch those rocks above us

And closed my fist as if I was crushing them. "Then we just need to be the ones with the last eye."

I heard the Bolwen's grunting and his feet scraping the dust as he got up. I said to him "I thought you were against violence."

I could imagine him smiling in the dark "Prophet Yarni, says to forgive the sinner three times" I heard the cracking of his neck and knuckles from behind me "Unfortunately, I am not Yharni"

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The camp was flooded with this smell. . .it smelled like childhood: A nauseating sensation, product of the mix of broken dreams and dead hopes fused and amalgamated in this little hell-spot in the mountains.

But under the mantle of night, it will be OUR little hell-spot in the mountains tonight.

We opened every tent and it the darkness of them, only two pairs of eyes were seen, watching feverishly at every boy and girl that slept at that moment.

But we weren't looking for all of them.

We looked for a single boy.

The leader.

It was until the penultimate tent. That we finally found him.

Bolwen motioned to me, making hand signs. 'I will cover his mouth and grab his arms, you grab a hold of his legs.'

I raised my thumb. Bolwen took a strip of clothing he had underneath his pants.

He tied it gently onto his mouth, without making him up and pointed to the exit.

And we lift him off the ground. He woke up and sweat and confusion mixed in his face as he started flailing his arms and legs as much as he could, worsening the pain in our ribs.

We didn't count on the extra weight when we took him all the way to our tent, each step felt like a lance piercing our sides making us wish we were vomiting blood.

When we finally got there, we used the makeshift beds as ropes to tie his legs and feet. He looked like a worm trying to wiggle his wait out off of his constraints.

I looked at Bolwen with uncertainty, he smiled and responded. "You're looking at the guy who blew up the Tower of Clouds, of course I know hot to make a knot or two."

He approached the squirming boy and grabbed a hold of his hair as they did him. I could tell from the side, his eyes were emanating a coldness that made the boy tremble.

He neared his ear and speaking a soft yet terribly menacing way as he grabbed his hand as if he was his fiance "Remember us?" Muffled sounds and eyes that swam in every direction except Bolwen's were his answer "Oh, silly me, of course you remember us" The sound of broken fingers resonated and the muffled sounds turned to whimpering.

"We were rude, not joining your group from the beginning" Another broken finger. Another set of tears, streaming down the boy's face.

Bolwen's voice started growling "Now listen here" The sound of hair being ripped off was heard as Bolwen's veins popped in his arm "If you break one of our ribs, we will break four of yours." Another broken finger. The whimpering stopped and only tears remained.

He continued, "If you break four we will break 8; if you break an arm, we will break two; if you kill us. . .you can be damn sure we won't go to Necropolis until we are done with you."