Chains. Fetters. Manacles. Work. Beat. Food.
Six words and only six words existed in my life. These six 'simple' words can define my life. They have done so for the past three years and will continue to do so for the long years that await me.
'Death' will be the only key for these chains that weigh heavily on my wrists and ankles.
These chains have bounded entire generations. Grandfather. Father. All have continued to be bound in these chains and my son and his son will do so too.
To us, the 'Ashes.' Birth is the sole testament of these chains and the brand that we have been forever endowed with will only disappear when one goes to eternal sleep.
Clang, Thud. Clang, Thud.
My feet dragged the manacles on my ankles across the barren brown soil. My heavy feet resounded in the vicinity along with many of my fellow tribesmen.
Through the corner of my eyes, I could find them all in the same state as mine.
Tattered clothes, rusted chains that looked as if they would break the next moment. But none of the drooped heads surrounding me ever tried to break them cause they all knew the consequences.
"Oi ! YOU ! Y-you guards free me this INSTANT! I am the son of Marquess Barlow. You fxcking piece of shit don't have the right to chain me along with all these piss-*muffled* A TRUE NOBL-
Thud.
Nobody even bothered to look at all the commotion. We all knew what had transpired. This was a common occurrence for every batch that arrived here.
Some might have come from diverse walks of life. But all those who find their naked feet dirtied by this red sand beneath us. Become the same. Become us.
The Ashes.
We have no rights. Once someone is branded as an 'Ashborn,' they can no longer be considered human.
A few seconds later, a wet sensation suddenly evaded the arc of my foot.
Dark red blood.
The forgotten noble that was lying on the sand a few metres away from me was now headless. Dark red blood had trickled through the crevices and undulations to find my feet colouring them red. So dark that without the help of blazing sunlight piercing my skin, I might have mistaken it as black.
My gaze wandered about the corpse and fell on the fetters that still chained the now-dead man. I felt my eyes flicker when I looked at a body, still not free from the chains that bound him even after death.
Soon, I found myself looking at another man. Unlike the underfed Ashes, he looked strikingly muscular and fit. He wore a pair of blue pants with rough edges. Long dishevelled hair brushed his shoulders.
But the man instead of being chained by a set of rusted and worn out fetters was actually chained in red manacles. The red of the manacles brutally contrasted the red of the blood that dripped down the head that he was currently holding.
Holding it by the hair, the man bound by the red chains let the harsh dusty winds hit the detached head and have it flail about in the air. As the head continued to bob aimlessly in the air, the drops of blood carelessly splashed across the cheeks of the man holding it.
His blue eyes suddenly brightened with a new vigour and he savoured the blood on his cheeks by licking it clean. With pure ecstasy visible in his face, I could just imagine the look on the face of the noble whose head he was holding.
This man… No. This animal was called a 'Herder.'
Herders weren't our oppressors.
They were a part of 'us'.
Herders were originally Ashes who would get selected to become, as the name suggests, shepherds for us. They were put in place to keep the Ashes on check.
This particular herder that currently played with a human head was among some of the worse ones.
And there actually were some worse…
Fortunately he couldn't just carelessly kill us.
I heaved in a sigh of relief as I found a black raven hovering above our heads in circles. It breezed through the high air looking down at us.
_________
A/n:
This work is still in its rudimentary stages. Undergoing editing. The real chapter will be released soon. Though there might some changes.