A sour-faced Bian led the way as Anak strode behind him head held up high with a bounce in his step. Tzipora and Urmu walked a small distance behind, Tzipora not taking her eyes off of Anak's back but keeping her expression blank, as Urmu wore a bemused smile.
They were outside the city walls, on the slave quarters' side, heading towards a dusty, barren patch of land. Countless silhouettes could be seen marching back and forth with pallets full of bricks or sacks full of divine copper flakes. Pits of muddy clay dotted a portion of the hot wasteland, forming a quarry, where various slaves were marching in place, using their bodies to mix the minuscule shards of divine copper and clay into a composition sturdy enough for building. Others were a small distance to the side, shaping the sturdy material into bricks, and placing them into the enchanted ovens prepared for them. They were sweating profusely, and some even had boils and blisters on their skin from the sweltering heat wafting out from the ovens.
The barren environment was completely out of place in the generally green settings of the area surrounding Ischuros, but nobody was surprised. This patch of wasteland had been artificially induced through special enchantments. Some were designed to kill plant-life, and others, hovering above on raised platforms, produced heat; the heat was meant more to keep the slaves dazed and unable to resist than any particular environmental needs. The environmental impact was a side effect.
Throughout the working slaves stood soldiers of Ischuros, giving commands, wielding whips, or guarding the borders of the work-zone. A wide-open tent stood at the side of the border Bian was leading them towards. A thin quiet man in fine armor was standing within perusing a document. It looked like a list of some kind from the front.
Bian approached him with Anak close behind, while Urmu and Tzipora chose to remain outside the tent.
"Commander, I've retrieved the missing slave." Bian bowed to the man, who hadn't looked up from his document since they entered.
"Was she punished?" The commander asked boredly, not looking up.
Bian coughed suggestively, "Well... about that-"
"What?" The commander cut him off, finally looking up. "Don't tell me you've made more trouble for me?" Consternation was written in bold across his face.
Anak stepped in front of Bian once the commander finally averted his gaze from the document he strangely found captivating. "I am Anak." He declared firmly, "May I ask your name, commander?" Anak knew this man would know who he was, but he didn't want any discourtesy to ruin his chance to help Tzipora; he didn't realize it yet, but right now his intentions lay more in simply spending time with her than just purely helping.
"Oh, the young lord." A lazy smile crept onto the commander's face, "I'm Aru." he lightly said, as a crash of bricks resounded from outside.
"Come again?" Anak hadn't heard his name in the clamor.
"Aru." repeated Aru.
"Bless you." Urmu smiled politely at Aru from outside.
Aru sighed and ignored Urmu, not caring to clarify the misunderstanding. "What did you need, sir?"
Anak held a firm expression in front of Aru, trying to hold in his laughter at his friend's mistake. He would never be able to disassociate this commander from sneezing now. "Aru," he tightened his lips as a chuckle threatened to escape, "It's my fault Tzipora was held up. She shouldn't be punished." He looked into this commander's eyes trying to convey his sincerity, but the commander kept the same bored expression.
"Oh? OK." Aru turned to Bian. "Then it's fine right? Just let her get to work." He waved his hands dismissively and turned his attention back to the document in his hands, clearly expecting the matter to come to a close.
Bian's brows crinkled together for a brief moment, clearly displeased. He stood staring between Anak and Tzipora hesitantly.
"Don't tell me there's more." Aru looked at the pair who were clearly not leaving.
"Well..." Bian began.
"Actually," Anak quickly cut him off, "I wanted to help with the work here today."
Aru didn't even bother looking up at this request, "Sure, fine. Do what you want."
"Sir!" Bian immediately interjected. "He's not a slave."
"So?" Aru raised a brow still absorbed in his document. "Do you think only slaves labor in this brickworks? Do you even realize just how many young warriors come here for strength training?" As he was nonchalantly berating Bian, Urmu crept around to the other side of the tent, hoping to find a way to get a look at the document that was holding the rapt attention of this odd person.
"Even so, I must object." Bian pouted.
"Noted. Now get out." Aru was fed up with what amounted to a vain exercise in articulation in his eyes. Suddenly, a mad cackling echoed out from behind the tent. Aru whirled around in a panic, clutching his paper to his chest. As he did so, a small page hidden by the larger document momentarily flashed by Anak's eyes. The images contained were unexpectedly suggestive and alluring. Anak recognized it as a recreation of images from Azazel's final revelation to Edo.
Aru flushed crimson as he inspected the space behind him, afraid he'd been found out, and noticed a flash of light as a hole in the back flap of the tent suddenly closed itself.
Little did he know, he had been found out twice over, and one of those who'd discovered his hobby was rushing out of his tent with a red, swollen face. After Anak finally made it out of the tent, he caught Urmu's eyes from around the other side. Anak could no longer hold it in, and roared with laughter at the same time as his friend.
After finally getting the hysteria cleared from his system, Anak turned to Tzipora with a broad smile. "He said I can go. So let's go."
Tzipora nodded, "That's good." She started to lead the way to the pits of clay. Apparently she would be among the ones mixing the clay with divine copper.
Anak rushed up to her side, not content being behind, "You really think it's good?" he asked with a roguish smile.
Tzipora rolled her eyes at the incorrigible Anak, "Yes. Less work for me." she glared at Anak, but a faint smile teased her lips.
"You got that right," Anak proudly declared. "I'm fact, I don't want to see you work at all. I'll do the work for both of us." He beamed at Tzipora.
"I don't think they'll just let me stand there idly." Tzipora admonished.
Anak winked at Tzipora playfully, "Just watch."
Anak then quickly jogged ahead, before leaping into the first clay pit he came across. The surrounding guards and slaves looked on at this bizarre scene of enthusiasm in the typically drab clay quarry. A few of the soldiers let out chuckles, while some slaves felt a faint sense of loathing at the sight. This person seemed more intent on playing around than actually putting in any work.
Anak stood up tall in the middle of the vast clay pit where three slaves were already at work. Anak addressed the trio who were splattered with clay and shooting murderous looks his way, "So sorry. Allow me to make it up to you." Anak smiled mischievously as he began walking towards the slave closest to him. His stride was as light as a bird on the wind, like the clay wasn't even there, his steps unimpeded as he grabbed ahold of the first slave, directly tossing him from the pit.
The poor man screamed as he fell through the air, but somehow landed gently on a patch of soft dirt, beyond view of most the surrounding people. The other two panicked slaves rushed out of the pit as the guards began to clamor in confusion and anger.
"Hey! Stop that!" a shaky voice trying to maintain its meager authority rang out.
"What are you doing?" another frightened voice questioned.
Anak chuckled, "Relax everybody. I'm just going to do this one myself." Anak beamed as he gestured at the wide cavity packed with soft clay.
"Are you serious? That's impossible!" A slave cried out.
"Just watch." Anak turned his attention to the surrounding pits, where slaves ponderously marched in place, slowly mixing the metal granules into the clay. It wasn't because it had to be mixed slowly, but due to their bodily limitations.
"Urmu, bag." Anak ordered, and Urmu complied under protest, tossing a sack of the divine copper Anak's way. Anak caught the bag and tore it open, spilling out the flakes of metal out around the clay that came up to his thighs.
Anak crouched low, and even as an impatient voice began to cry out, "Boring!" He took off at a dead sprint, flying around the thick soupy clay pit at inhuman speeds. The surrounding viewers collectively had to look for their jaws that had fallen to the floor, as shock rolled over them in waves at the impossible sight.
Anak wasn't done. He continued to pick up speed, eventually accelerating into a barely visible blur as the clay spun around like a whirlpool, occasionally splattering the observers. The clay-coated people barely noticed as all their attention was absorbed by the insane show they bore witness to.
On the side, Tzipora began to laugh. Ever so lightly, almost like a whisper, but she was truly laughing. He really did do all the work for both, and whether or not the guards wanted her to stand at the side idly, they didn't have the wits about them to notice. Her eyes took on a sheen they hadn't held in ages, back when she was the princess of her tribe, before being conquered and enslaved.
Anak finally came to a halt when the mixture became thick enough to actually inhibit his steps somewhat. He stepped heavily out of the pit, with only the slightest layer of sweat upon his brow. "Is this satisfactory?" He asked cockily, gazing at the guards with a mocking gaze, and the slaves with an inviting one.
One disgruntled guard came out to make things troublesome for Anak. He swung his weapon a the clay, with the intention of pointing out the mark he would make and declare it was still too soft. However, his iron sword actually shattered when it met the composition mixed by Anak.
"A-Ah- Wha-?" The guard cried out in confusion as he looked despairingly at his ruined weapon. He hadn't ever seen a mixture so perfect it took on the reflective properties of divine copper to the point of completely stopping and even breaking a sword. In fact, it had never been done. Anak had unwittingly made a perfect synthesis of divine copper and clay with his unnatural speed.
"All of you, take a break. I got this." Anak announced to the remaining slaves, and he glared at the guards daring them to say otherwise. They all averted their eyes, not taking the dare. The trio of slaves he had ejected from the pit, who had glared at him in hate before, now stared at him in awe. Is this what he meant by making it up to them? Clearly it was too much.
They didn't know; to Anak, it wasn't enough.
Then a snide voice rang out, "You cowards. And you- Do you think you can do everything at once? Who are you to tell them to stop working? You may be a young lord, but you don't have any authority here." Bian had stepped into the quarry after seeing the unusual activity from a distance, and he remained determined to stop Anak's clear ambitions of empowering the slaves, which he deemed dangerous.
"I am Anak. And I can do whatever I please." Anak took on the air of a tyrant and stared down at the petty Bian.
"Is that so?" Bian and Anak glared into each other's eyes, earning Bian looks of pity from the surrounding people. It was like he didn't know he could be crushed by this young man's little finger alone.