Yesdar's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked at Griswa, his expression akin to an eager child about to unleash a barrage of questions. Griswa noticed it and began, "Alright, you got a thousand questions, don't you?"
"Yes!" said Yesdar excitedly.
"If you are from another planet, how do you know this planet's language?"
"Well, umm.." replied Griswa, but was unable to answer the question immediately even though he knew the answer. But before he could complete the sentence, he was interrupted by Yesdar.
"I haven't seen creatures, have you?"
"Yeah?... dragons, but you might not know ab-"
"Wow, they used to talk about dragons, the people around me, how they used to touch the skies and the dangers they posed, but-"
"Wait, wait wait, your world got dragons too?"
"I mean... yeah? But I haven't seen one though, and some of them also used to say that they might not have really existed and it's just an imaginative story created out of boredom in slavery."
"Well that's not the case, actually-"
"Hey wait! I remember you didn't answer my earlier question, what fruit do you wanna be?"
"Yesdar, have you even seen a fruit? Considering the trash food they gave? Did they ever give you a fruit? Even once?"
Yesdar couldn't speak anything for a moment. Reminded by the terrible past, he replied,
"My father... he used to tell me some stories."
Yesdar's eyes glimmered with emotion as he began to recount memories of his father to Griswa. "My father, he used to tell me stories about fruits, Yesdar started, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "He described them as the most exquisite treasures, bursting with juiciness, sweetness, and delight. He said that tasting a fruit was like experiencing pure joy."
"But you know what's the most remarkable part?" Yesdar continued, a sense of wonder in his tone. "My father had never tasted a fruit in his life. He was trapped in slavery for years, just like his father before him, and his father before him... It goes back through countless generations, all the way to our first ancestor who was captured by the Yahunyens."
"Yet, despite never tasting a fruit himself, my father passed down this tradition of longing for the taste of freedom through the generations," Yesdar explained, his voice steady with determination. "He always said that if one of us ever managed to break free from the chains of slavery, it would be our duty to taste a fruit and experience the sweetness that had been denied to our family for so long."
As Yesdar spoke, Griswa listened intently, the weight of generations of longing and hope hanging in the air between them. And in that moment, they both understood the profound significance of reclaiming something as simple yet profound as the taste of a fruit after centuries of oppression.
"But the worst part..." Yesdar's voice trembled slightly as he continued his narrative, a mixture of sadness and indignation evident in his words. "My father told me something else too. He said that in our family, and in many others among the slaves, children were born without marriage. The Yahunyens, they... they didn't care about family or dignity. Men were forced to make babies with women, chosen by the Yahunyens, to increase their workforce. It happened over and over again, generation after generation."
Yesdar's expression darkened as he struggled to find the right words to describe the cruelty of their oppressors. "The Yahunyens, they're terrible people, Griswa. They have no shame, no respect for families or love. They just use us as tools for their own gain, without any regard for our feelings or dignity. "
"But why did your father tell you all this?" Griswa finally asked, his voice gentle with concern.
"Yesdar's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he replied, "He wanted me to know, to be prepared for whatever might come our way. He said we never knew when we might be separated and we did, they took my father to some other sector, they took him away from me two years ago and now I don't even know if he is alive or not... and he wanted me to be strong, to understand the world we live in, even at such a young age. I don't even know who my mother is."
Griswa listened in silence, his heart heavy with the weight of Yesdar's revelations. He could imagine growing up in such a world because of his own past when he endured and thought about it. Where the very idea of family was twisted and distorted by the whims of their captors.
"But I don't seem to understand things about you, what are you? Why do I only feel like trusting you? And why do I feel like saying everything to you? Maybe because I never had anyone to say these things, or maybe because you saved my life? You punched a Yahunyen? I don't even remember at what moment did we come from those mines to here in a... in a room of stones of the outside world or whatever you call it.", Yesdar bombarded him with all these questions in one go that elaborated that he was understanding things, yet was quite puzzled.
Griswa paused for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to process Yesdar's questions. Emotions were often like foreign territory to him, yet he understood one thing very clearly in agreement to Yesdar and the thoughts of other suffering people: what was wrong, was wrong. Despite his limited understanding of feelings, he knew that certain actions were unforgivable, and he felt a deep sense of anger whenever he witnessed injustice.
"Yesdar," Griswa finally spoke, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of frustration, "I don't always understand emotions like others do. But I do know that some things are just... wrong. That's why I punched the Yahunyen soldier when I saw him doing something bad."
Yesdar nodded slowly, absorbing Griswa's words. "But then why did you say you killed 70 billion people?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion.
Griswa's expression darkened as he struggled to find the right words. "Yesdar, there are things about me... about my past, that I haven't shared with you. Things I'm not proud of. And if I shared that, maybe I was just not in my right mind, I was maybe lost in thoughts, thinking about things I did, when I wasn't supposed to, something flushed my mind, I don't very well remember."
"But why keep it a secret?" Yesdar pressed, his curiosity piqued.
Griswa hesitated, his gaze drifting away for a moment. "Yesdar, I'm hiding many things... things I can't even bring myself to say. But please, trust me. Trust that I'm doing what I believe is best for both of us. Actually I could have escaped on the first day itself because these stupid good for nothing soldiers were anyways no match for me, but I don't know what... something made me stay. Some people call it... 'fate' and I know you understand what I mean."
"Yesdar, I promise you," Griswa affirmed, his eyes locking with Yesdar's, "when the time is right, I'll tell you everything. But for now, let's focus on getting out of here."
"Ah... about getting out of here..." Yesdar began, his voice trailing off as memories flooded his mind. "I remember a tune, it was more like a song, the slaves used to sing. They called it 'The Song of Freedom', it was quite a good one."
Griswa listened intently, curiosity piqued by Yesdar's recollection. "What was it like?"
"Yesdar's gaze drifted, lost in the melody of the past. "It was a sad tune, but it had a sort of beauty to it. The lyrics... they lingered in my mind, like dancing in my brain."
Griswa nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Do you think it could help us get out of here?"
"Yesdar shook his head, a sense of unease creeping over him. "I'm not sure. But something feels wrong. Like they can't escape the same way I did."
Griswa placed a reassuring hand on Yesdar's shoulder. "We'll find a way, Yesdar. Together."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rugged landscape outside the cave, Griswa and Yesdar found themselves faced with a decision: to press on into the darkness or to make camp for the night.
"Yesdar, we should keep moving," Griswa insisted, his voice tinged with urgency. "We can't afford to waste any time."
Yesdar winced as he attempted to put weight on his injured toe, the pain evident in his grimace. "But Griswa, my toe... it's still hurting. I don't want to slow you down."
Griswa turned to Yesdar, a determined expression on his face. "Yesdar, I don't mind carrying you. We've come this far together, and of course I won't leave you behind."
Yesdar's eyes softened with gratitude. "Thank you, Griswa. But it's getting dark, and we won't be able to see where we're going. It's safer to stay here for the night."
Griswa sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in Yesdar's words. "Fine, we'll stay," he conceded, his voice tinged with frustration. "But we leave at first light, understood?"
Yesdar nodded eagerly, relieved to have reached a decision.
As the night enveloped the rugged landscape outside the cave, Griswa and Yesdar tilted their heads up to gaze at the sky, their eyes wide with wonder. Yesdar's gaze lingered on the stars, his eyes reflecting the shimmering beauty of the night sky, a sight he had never seen before. In the darkness of the night, the stars seemed to dance, casting a soft glow that illuminated the surrounding landscape with an ethereal light.
Griswa noticed Yesdar's fascination with the sky, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was clear that Yesdar was seeing the stars for the first time, his awe and wonder palpable in the darkness of the cave.
But their moment of reverie was abruptly interrupted by the appearance of a towering figure emerging from the depths of the cave. The man stood at least 230 centimeters tall, his muscular frame clad in a modified armored suit that gleamed in the faint light of the cave. With short hair and a thick beard, he exuded an air of strength and authority.
Griswa instinctively stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Yesdar. "Stay back, Yesdar," he whispered, his eyes locked on the imposing figure before them. "He might be dangerous."
But before Griswa could make a move, the man spoke, his voice rumbling with unexpected humor. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he chuckled, his tone laced with amusement. "A couple of lost lambs wandering into the lion's den."
Griswa's grip on Yesdar's shoulder relaxed slightly, his curiosity piqued by the man's unexpected words. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice cautious yet intrigued.
The man grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Me? I'm just a humble traveler, seeking shelter from the storm," he replied, his tone light but tinged with a hint of mischief, but basically he meant that he was a person saving himself from the tight clutches of the Yahunyens. "But enough about me. How about I show you two boys a better place to rest your heads?"
Griswa exchanged a glance with Yesdar, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But something about the man's demeanor put him at ease, a sense of relief washing over him in the darkness of the cave as it was understandable that Griswa's experience and wisdom could read people and their minds irrespective of his young age because many things happened in his past that developed his maturity just enough for Griswa to be Griswa.
After a brief discussion, Griswa and Yesdar followed the man deeper into the depths of the cave, Griswa carried Yesdar on his back as they navigated the winding passageways. As they walked, the man regaled them with tales of his small band of rebels, a group of people who had managed to escape the clutches of the Yahunyen slave order and now roamed free, their exploits causing trouble for the rich Yahunyen families in the nearby city of Shiyahval.
Finally, they reached a hidden alcove deep within the cave, where a small group of people awaited them, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of a modified and technological campfire. As Griswa and Yesdar joined their newfound comrades, a sense of camaraderie and hope filled the air, the promise of a better future beckoning to them from the depths of the cave. And as they settled in for the night, surrounded by the warmth of the light and the laughter of their new friends, Griswa and Yesdar knew that they were going to be their future comrades in both might and fight.