Chapter Six
T R A I N I N G : DAY ONE
The man set a bruising pace, leaving the maid behind as he dragged Osiris along by the collar.
Rather violently, the man then let him go, sending Osiris to stagger to the side.
Osiris looked unimpressed.
The man then took off in a leaping stride, leaving Osiris to jog to catch up.
He would have ran away, given the chance, but those little black cubes were everywhere.
On the walls, in the corners, on the floor, the place was infested.
The eyes followed Osiris no matter how or where he moved.
Osiris kept his own eyes on Yellow.
Out of sight out of mind.
Unfortunately that didn't seem to work.
"Training lasts for a week before lessons start."
Osiris glanced around.
Most of the halls were empty this 'dawn', leaving Osiris with a limited pov. He could not learn more about the world without people. With them they carried their culture and the soul of their city. It was true on Earth, he's hoping it will be true here too.
"Since you've yet to learn even the basics, we need to drill in the fundamentals."
The place was huge. Even with a man over six feet he could not touch the ceiling, even if he jumped. Gold and white filled everything. It lined the seams and colored the walls. It would have been beautiful, if not for the infestation hiding in every corner.
Everything was washed in a pale blue light, yet even without any other sources he could see clearly through his eye. There was no change from one room to the next. It was bizarre.
Osiris could not tell if this was just him or everyone, it was frustrating.
They traveled further.
Osiris was sure it had taken them about a mile or two to even reach the outside doors.
He was feeling a bit winded.
There was no pause. No rest. The man moved on and Osiris began to sweat.
By the time they made it to wherever they were going Osiris was completely lost in both breath and mind. So much of the architecture looked the same, not a single marker to show where they were going or headed to.
It was inconvenient.
They finally walked through giant stone and wood gates and into what appeared to be a three section training ground. There were people there, far off in an arena-like area to the left. The stone bleachers were separated into four sections, leaving ample room at the sides, yet low enough to the ground to see everyone's heads.
Every single person there had a white halo around them, some brighter than the others.
All of them white.
"50 laps."
Osiris blinked before he looked at the field section of the room.
"No. The entire room."
The field in the back corner alone looked to be the size of three highschool baseball fields, so doing fifty around the entire room sounded insane.
Especially when he remembered he was like, seven.
He decided to voice that thought.
"But I'm like five years old."
Yellow didn't even look at him.
"You are not five."
"Six then?"
"Eight."
Finally.
Information.
Osiris smiled. The air was cold against his gums.
"Now run."
And Osiris ran.
He may have been scared. And hurt. And tired. But he was also desperate to be alone.
He hasn't had a second to gather his bearings since he came to this fucking place.
Isolation just tore apart the mind he already had, and now they were tearing apart his body. He hasn't even had time to grieve.
By lap three Osiris was having trouble running straight. He kept swaying left and right, muscles fighting him the entire way through.
His lungs were sore, little organ struggling to keep up with the volume of work.
As he started another lap Osiris finally admitted he was in a bit of a pickle. Before sunrise his right eye was perfect, twenty twenty vision in fact. But now, as the sun was rising through the sky, his vision has turned completely white. It was like someone was shining a bright light right into his pupil.
His left eye was fine, or as fine as it can be seeing imaginary demons leaching off the bodies and walls around him.
He had been too disoriented earlier to notice, but each of his eyes saw things differently.
But even closing the inflicted eye did not alleviate the headache-inducing shine of the light.
By the thirteenth lap Osiris had lost control of his body midway and ragdolled to the ground, legs turning to jelly. Each breath dragged in dust, coating his lungs in irritation.
Two pairs of footsteps approached from his left.
Briefly Osiris managed to nudge his head enough to look up. He peered into the crowd of men he saw this morning. There wasn't a single eye that looked at him with sympathy nor apathy.
It was nothing but superiority.
He was but a bug.
He wasn't welcome here.
The boy flexed his hands and feet. The response was weak. Immobility was something that made him feel feral. Osiris was becoming anxious.
He was a fight sort of bug.
He could still move his head which meant he could still bite.
Osiris tried to recuperate his energy.
Tried to, is the key words here.
"You couldn't even do half? Worthless mutt."
The statement was childish.
Osiris didn't bother to respond.
The fact that he's saying shit like that at that age was embarrassing.
Osiris huffed.
"Let's force a bit of growth. The Queen wants results."
It was Brown. The duo had reunited. Rejoice.
Like a glow stick Brown snapped a vile full of bright teal liquid right over the boy's body.
Splash.
Osiris just laid there, unable to do much but listen to the men talk about the literal weather.
One, two, three.
Osiris shot up like he had done a line of coke on the back of a dirty, backyard bar toilet seat.
He was ready to fight.
He was ready for war.
His feet turned into a flutter of hops.
He was ready to move.
"30 mo-"
Osiris did not need to hear anything more. He was off. His feet were now screaming at him. Burning him. But that didn't seem to matter.
He was as high as a kite.
The bastards had drugged him. Again.
Osiris managed to do twenty three laps before the crash came. Not only had the high given him enough energy to run off the edge, but it forcefully took in every bodily sense he could muster.
His hearing could catch the clang of metal from what he figured was the weapon area. He could hear when the men would practice with wood instead of metal. He could hear the sound of their bones creaking and popping as they moved about. He could even hear the grinding of his teeth against his temple.
His sense of smell was just confusing. He would get the usual whiff of B.O, but even that smelled weird. What he was eating, his diet, lack of vitamins, he could smell the sickness on his skin. He could smell his own health.
His sight was nausea inducing. He already wrote off his right eye, it was officially legally blind for all he knew, so all he had was the left. There wasn't much to make sense of when nothing made sense.
His taste seemed to be tied tightly to his smell. He could almost taste the smells like he was eating them. It was disgusting, and something he never wants to experience ever again.
Touch was another interesting one. He could feel everything. And whatever was in that liquid he could feel it flowing through his veins. It was hot, muggy, and thick. But it was also powerful.
Then came the crash.
Though he was clearly overstimulated, he had been feeling elated. He could feel energy push him more and more and take more in. He wasn't even sure what he was taking in, but it felt amazing.
But with every high there was a low.
There was no warning, no slowing of the body, nothing. He was on the ground and withering it in pain within milliseconds.
The energy from before had become toxic.
The worst of it was his feet and eyes.
Even now they continued to burn and shriek after the rest of his body cooled down.
Time began to pass.
He was still in that spot three hours later.
No one came. No one helped. Even as they were leaving no one batted an eye his way.
Yellow and Brown were already gone.
Osiris closed his eyes and slept alone on that dirt ground that night.
W A T E R : DAY TWO
One Twenty Three AM.
He was thirsty.
No, he was desiccated.
His eyes shot open, he was dying.
WATER.
Like his ancestors on another planet he smelled out the water quicker than he could even wake up. He was swallowing mouthfulls by the time his mind booted up, choking a bit as he tried to breath.
He was a sopping mess.
When the water relaxed he realized he could see clearly again. His vision was back.
".."
He looked terrible.
There were no other words for it. Nothing. He looked like shit.
Osiris leaned in close.
So that's me, huh?
The kid was young. Pretty. Pale skin, right silvery eye, left a prominent, insect green. Ashy pink hair. He was a distinct little boy. A small kid in a big, big world. His poor body was eating itself.
Osiris touched the water.
We don't deserve this.
A louse cawed.
"-ana. So they use that to cast spells. It's actually more interesting than that! People can only awaken their m—- through one focal point. Meaning there are only five ways you can use m-"
Osiris remembered that he was living in a book.
Somehow, that managed to piss him off.
Pushing away from the bucket he noticed that dirty knives rested on its sides. Leaning forward a bit he could see smaller weapons down below.
Do I need a tetanus shot or something?
".."
Osiris went to step away but fell on his ass.
Right, he was sick.
Regardless of whatever drugs those men were giving him, they did not, and will not replace food and water. He was surprised this body was even standing. Children were sturdy, but even they had a limit.
I look so young.
Adam faltered a bit. He could see himself here. His younger self. A young boy with no one really there. A really lonely person.
The thought of going through all of that again just to survive made him absolutely volatile.
If he was going to be in a BAD mood then everyone is going to be in a bad mood.
Mania creeped up his toes.
Mania.. man-
He woke up thanks to another dose of that fucking drug.
They said fifty, he gave them twenty three.
The crash was even more intense this round, but Ad-Osiris cussed his way through it.
What else could he do?
That night he got to take a bath.
The water was warm.