Dean was walking under the harsh sun of Saphyr. That part of the continent was one of the hottest that they had. Even though sunlight was something that every single survivor appreciated and wanted to have for some minutes, it was still unpleasant to walk for several hours like this.
Dean's skin was tanned at this point. Its tone was completely different from what it was before. However, anyone who looked at his skin could see that it wasn't a natural tone but came due to several days walking under the sun for hours.
His steps were heavy, his legs shaky. He was already exhausted. His chained hands needed to be raised at least above his waist. If he lowered them any further, he would push the chains and would alert the others, making them get angry at him and probably beat him to teach a lesson.
'I think that my feet are bleeding again, and I bet that I will have more blisters to substitute the others that might have opened just now.' The pain of just walking was nearly unbearable. At the start of that new trip from Refuge Oslan to the new destiny of the group, he cried several times due to the pain on his feet, but nowadays he didn't even flinch.
Paul was beside Dean, walking at the same fast pace as him, although his legs were also shaky and his steps heavy.
He seemed to have a better time dealing with that suffering than Dean. No wonder, since he was a slave of that group for one month and a half more than him.
"I didn't cry in this entire last week," Dean commented, still looking to the horses that were walking in front of them, the rest of the group was riding them. Their chains were attached to their seals as well, which prevented the two young slaves to run away or stop to walk.
Paul didn't answer Dean as always, he just kept looking to the ground as if counting his steps.
"I regret to have been crying in the entire past month. 31 days crying nonstop. Then, after the final of the month, I swore that I wouldn't cry anymore, and here I am." Dean continued, regardless of being replied or not.
Indeed, it has been one month and one week that Dean turned into a slave. During all that time, he needed to go to hell and walk back. It was an excruciating time. He got beat several times and got yelled at repeatedly, for various reasons. His morale was put down every day more, he was treated like scum. He never thought that he would need to pass for such difficulties.
Paul didn't say anything again. Actually, he never said anything. It has been a little while since he and Dean were together in that misery, but he won't say a single word nor look at Dean's eyes.
"You don't need to cry every day as well, Paul," Dean spoke slowly.
His comrade finally glanced at him. It was just a glance, but enough to make Dean continue.
"I have been watching you closely since we always are attached by the same chains. I can know when you are crying or angry. But, listen, those people..." Dean looked towards Rick's group, nearly spatting on the ground due to the bitterness that arose in his mouth. "Those people don't deserve your tears. Actually, that's exactly what they want. You need to be stronger than it. It's just when you stay still, firm and resilient, that they get affected."
Paul surely heard Dean's words. He was a good listener, and Dean knew it very well. However, this time he didn't show any expression or reaction. The boy remained quiet and reflexive.
Dean sighed.
'At least he seems to be considering my advice. Nonetheless, I still want to make him talk something.'
While he thought about it, both glad that he got glanced at by Paul and disappointed for being ignored again, Dean felt like his stomach was folding several times and then unfolding. It was an uncomfortable and strange feeling that got him weak and nauseated.
It had been a while since he last had a full meal. The slaves should take just the leftovers, after all. For a boy who was still in his growth phase, it wasn't enough to nourish him. Also, he needed to walk for several hours under the sun, which spent a lot of energy.
During that time as a slave, he forgot what it was to breathe pure air and not feel cold while sleeping since they needed to sleep outdoors with the smelly horses.
A slave wasn't allowed to talk with someone who wasn't a slave, particularly with Rick's group. They needed to walk with their heads lowered and showing how weak they were. They would just take a sword when helping to fight and would be the ones going to the frontline.
Their "Willpower" could accumulate for just three days. After this, it would be transferred to the group.
These were the rules that they both needed to follow strictly, and one of the reasons why Dean cried every time before going to sleep in the past month.
Nevertheless, at some point, Dean realized that it wasn't worth it just to stay crying and don't do anything about that situation. He could cry for anyone who passed for him, but no one would ever help.
He discovered in that meantime that not all the refuges cared about slavery. In fact, most of them practiced this kind of thing as a way to raise productivity inside their society. In a situation where you are attacked almost every week, speed to produce, reconstruct, aid, and work, was essential to keep the refuge evolving instead of regressing.
Rick's group and the two slaves kept walking, bordering the edge of a dense forest that they were passing by. In that month and a week, they had covered a long distance, but there was too much to walk. They weren't running out of supplies, but soon they would need to stock more in the next refuge they would stop by.
They rounded that forest for more than eight hours before Rick decided to stop. The two slaves didn't need any words more. It was time to set camp, one of Dean's favorite times.