The barrier crumbled beneath the relentless onslaught of the dragons' energy blasts, Griswa's gaze flickered with recognition. Though he possessed intimate knowledge of the dragons' true nature, he chose to conceal his understanding and guard his secrets amidst the tumult, his silence shielding against any premature revelation.
Without hesitation, Sivera seized the opportunity presented by the breach. "Follow my lead," he commanded, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos. "We must evade our pursuers." With a decisive gesture, he urged his dragon forward, leading the group in a daring escape through the fractured barrier.
Meanwhile, on the Yahunyen side of the conflict, vigilant soldiers standing on guard on the watch towers, swiftly relayed news of the breach to their prince, Walith Ehasor. A soldier activated his communication device, a holographic projection materializing before him. "Your Highness," he reported respectfully, "the intruders have penetrated the barrier."
On the holographic display, Walith's image materialized, a grotesque parody of nobility. His bloated cheeks sagged beneath a crown of messy curls, reminiscent of a fat, disgusting pig wallowing in luxury. Clad in fancy attire, he seemed more suited to a banquet hall than a battlefield, yet his posture exuded a lazy arrogance that belied his station.
His face, a portrait of excess and indulgence, betrayed a lack of discipline and refinement. Despite his royal trappings, there was an undeniable slovenliness to his appearance, as if he had never known the meaning of restraint. And when he deigned to speak, his words dripped with a condescending superiority, as if he believed himself superior to all who dared to address him.
"Keep an eye on them. I'm on my way, and Father has sent me something special. It's time to put it to the test." With a cringeworthy laugh that echoed through the room, he terminated the call, leaving his subordinates to carry out his orders.
In the dim light of the command center, his image flickered with an air of disdain, casting a shadow of contempt over those who served under him. It was a stark reminder of the decadence and decay that had seeped into the heart of the Yahunyen empire, an indication of the rot that festered beneath the veneer of royalty.
Back amidst the action, Sivera swiftly organized the group, his directives clear and concise. "Secure water," he commanded, his tone authoritative yet measured. "It is needed more." As the designated members, Aelodor, Daryan, Olemith, Risanji, Elemdar, Raazman and Syran dispersed to fulfill their task, Sivera turned to the remaining companions, his gaze penetrating yet understanding. "Remain close," he advised, his words a reassurance in uncertain times.
At a high speed of 2000 kilometres per hour, thanks to the gravity belts which Sivera taught the kids how to use. By adjusting the dial in the middle, they followed his lead. Yesdar and Malaes thoroughly enjoyed such a high speed that messed up their already messed up hairstyles while Griswa already knew what these dragons were capable of and wasn't too amazed. Sivera stopped at certain intervals to understand their location to proceed further because when driving at excessive speeds, objects and buildings became blurred and indistinct as they quickly passed by, diminishing visibility.
"Stay with me, children," Sivera urged, his voice a quiet yet firm command. "We shall procure what we need and depart swiftly." And as they navigated the crowded streets of the market district, they remained vigilant, mindful of the dangers lurking in the shadows of their pursuit.
Venturing into the designated area reserved for Mackenasians who were freely slaved, Sivera led the way with determined steps, his demeanor reflecting focused resolve. Rahl followed closely behind, his expression somber yet steadfast. The children, Malaes, Griswa, and Yesdar, trailed after them, their gazes darting about with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Navigating the maze of narrow alleys and rudimentary stalls, they saw the miserable realities of poverty and struggle. Amidst the dilapidated structures and muddy pathways, the poorest of Mackenasians scraped by a meager existence, their faces etched with the weariness of daily toil and deprivation.
Pausing to survey their surroundings, Sivera's gaze swept over the makeshift marketplace with a mix of sympathy and determination. "This is where we will find what we seek," he declared, his voice carrying purpose. "But remember, my young companions, this is not a realm for the faint of heart. Though granted this space, these Mackenasians remain ensnared by the chains of poverty and oppression."
With a solemn nod, Rahl acknowledged the gravity of their situation, his expression reflecting understanding. "Listen closely, children," he began, his voice steady yet tinged with sorrow. "What you see here is the severe truth of our existence. Despite appearances, these Mackenasians are trapped in a cycle of hardship and oppression, their lives dictated by forces beyond their control."
As they proceeded deeper into the area, Sivera scanned for a suitable spot to park their dragons, his eyes settling on a nearby clearing amidst the dilapidated structures. "Over there," he gestured, "That's where we'll leave them."
Malaes, her eyes blazing with indignation, pointed towards a group of children playing amidst the rubble. "Look at them," she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "Just like us, but abandoned by everyone."
"Yesdar, you've seen this before," Griswa said, his voice edged with bitterness. "You know what it's like to be trapped in a place like this, to suffer at the hands of those in power."
"Yes," Yesdar replied, his voice heavy with the weight of past traumas. "But even I never imagined it could be this bad."
As they walked, Sivera's voice cut through the noise of the streets, his words carrying a sense of urgency. "This is where the Mackenasians live," he explained, his tone devoid of sympathy. "Forced into poverty, forgotten by those who first used them and then threw them."
The children listened intently, their expressions hardened by the grim truths before them. "But still, wondering for years, why don't they fight back?" Rahl demanded, his voice tinged with anger.
"Because they're powerless," Sivera snapped, his frustration boiling over. "They've been beaten down by the system, left to rot while the rest of the world turns a blind eye."
As they continued their journey, the sounds of the streets surrounded them, a constant reminder of the injustices faced by those who called the slums home.
Finally, they arrived at their destination: a small shop with cracked walls and a 'fall-ceiling' (you know what I mean), where meat was sold. Sivera's gaze hardened as he surveyed the scene.
"This is where we'll find what we need," he declared.
Yesdar's brow furrowed as he glanced around the dilapidated street. "So, is this the place where we are supposed to pull off our heist?"
Sivera's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Not exactly," he replied, his voice low. "This is where we're going to make our purchases."
Confusion flashed across Yesdar and Malaes' faces as they exchanged puzzled looks. "But I thought we were planning a heist," Malaes remarked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Isn't that what we're here for?"
Sivera chuckled softly, the sound echoing against the grim backdrop of the slum. "Oh, make no mistake, we are indeed on a heist," he explained, his tone tinged with amusement. "But our target isn't just food. It's something far more essential and that's water, it's costly considering the city itself is in a desert area and these poor people have lesser than what they themselves need."
Understanding dawned on Malaes' face as she nodded slowly. "I see," she murmured, her eyes scanning the impoverished surroundings. "So, while Aelodor and the others secure the water, we're here to support the local businesses."
Sivera nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We'll purchase meat here with our funds, and then later procure food grains to assist these vendors in their trade. It's a small gesture, but it can make a significant difference in their lives."
Malaes' lips twisted into a wry smile. "So, while the others are 'stealing' water, we're 'buying' meat. Quite the heist indeed."
Sivera grinned. "Precisely."
Malaes hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering to the small bag hanging from Sivera's belt. "Um, dad," she began tentatively, "I was wondering from a long time and wanted to ask... is that bag on your belt... money?"
Sivera glanced down at the bag with a knowing smile. "Yes, it is," he confirmed, adjusting the strap. "But enough questions for now. Shall we head inside?"
Malaes nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips, and the group followed Sivera into the shop. Inside, they were greeted by an old man who seemed to know Sivera well.
"Hey there, Zeth, old man," Sivera greeted him warmly. "How are you doing?"
The old man's face lit up in recognition. "Ah, Sivera, welcome," he replied, his voice slow and measured with age. "Where are the others? Where's Meron? And why are there children here?!"
Sivera chuckled, laying a reassuring hand on the old man's shoulder. "Woah, calm down old man, Zeth," he said with a grin. "As for the children, they're with me and safe, this is Malaes, my daughter, this is Yesdar and this is Griswa."
"Ah, I see, I won't ask too many questions, welcome."
"Thank you!" replied Malaes and Yesdar together.
And as for Meron... well, we've lost him." Sivera continued.
"Oh my, I'm sorry, it's not safe for people like you here, why did you bring children?" the old man exclaimed, his eyes widening in concern.
Sivera nodded solemnly. "It's quite alright old man, they are safe with me, chill. Meron's dragon returned with us. Turns out, it laid an egg, and it's hatched now. So, we'll need a lot of meat for its healthy nutrition."
"I see," Zeth murmured, his brow furrowing in thought. "What will you be needing?"
"Just the usual, Zeth," Sivera replied. "But this time, we'll need extra."
As Sivera approached closer, his tone lowered. "And Zeth, about that injury..."
The old man's hand instinctively went to his forehead, where a not so old wound spoiled his skin. "It's nothing, just the usual discriminating treatment," he said dismissively.
Sivera's eyes hardened with anger, his voice low and fierce. "Zeth, you shouldn't have to endure such things."
Zeth shrugged, a sad smile playing on his lips. "It's the way of the world, Sivera. But thank you for your concern."
Sivera nodded, his gaze lingering on the old man's dried wound which he couldn't even bandage. "I understand," he said quietly. "But from now on, you'll be paid in Eeronsens. It'll make things easier for you to buy meat from outside and sell it here, I know this happened because you were paying them in Wafferions."
A sense of gratitude washed over Zeth's weathered features. "Thank you, Sivera," he said softly. "You're a true friend."
As Zeth turned to chop the meat, his weathered hands moving with practiced precision, he began to speak,
"You know," he began, his voice tinged with a sense of weariness, "just the other day, when I went to buy meat again, I overheard some Yahunyens talking about new technology."
Sivera's interest piqued at the mention of new technology, his brow furrowing in concern. "New technology?" he echoed, a note of caution in his voice.
The old man nodded solemnly. "That's what they said," he confirmed. "Something about a new ship, they said. But I couldn't make heads or tails of it."
Rahl stepped forward, his curiosity evident. "What kind of ship?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in concentration.
But Zeth shook his head, his expression clouded with uncertainty. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I didn't understand much of what they were saying."
As the conversation continued, Yesdar and Malaes exchanged worried glances, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Meanwhile, Griswa remained silent, his brow furrowed in deep thought.
Sivera and Rahl exchanged a meaningful look, their silent communication speaking volumes. It was clear that they needed to tread carefully in the face of this new development.
As Zeth finished packing the meat into three large bags, he sighed heavily, his gaze filled with a mixture of frustration and resignation.
"Nowadays, I can't even give people meat without money," he confessed, his voice heavy with regret. "No one accepts wafferions outside the slum area, and I can't afford to give meat away for free, because then I can't buy more meat. As I pay in wafferions, they hit me and after so much request they slowly decide to give me some. It's a difficult situation, you see. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. You know how frustrating this situation is?
"Yeah, I get it." Sivera replied.
"That if you can't give them, you are selfish, but even if you want to give them, you are selfish anyways." the old man quoted.
Sivera nodded sympathetically, a sense of sympathy in his eyes. "Stuck between a rock and a hard place." he said.
The bags were tied, Sivera and Rahl took them.
"Thank you Sivera, and be careful." Zeth said when they were leaving.
"Welcome, and yeah, we'll be careful." replied Sivera turning his back.
With that, they left followed by the kids, Griswa gave a final glance to the old man before leaving and the old man returned the glance back to him but seemed puzzled, both focused on each other's eyes. The old man remained silent for the short moment as he seemed to see wonders which he wasn't himself sure of and couldn't even bring himself to say what kind of strange hope he was accumulating directly from his glowing eyes, that shined casting auras of those eleven different colors. But then Griswa turned his back and the eye contact broke, the old man shivered a little coming back to his senses from what it seemed an illusion, tapping on his head three times.
The group wandered more into the depth of the streets of the slum to collect food grains while the other group, Aelodor and the 6 others were encountered by a new problem.
Doubt Clearing Information:
You must be confused about why Meron's dragon's egg hatched in a cavern when energy dragons needed sunlight. Well, let me shed some light on this intriguing phenomenon. Imagine a vast desert landscape, its surface parched and unforgiving under the scorching sun. But beneath this arid expanse lies a hidden world, a labyrinth of chasms and caverns carved by ancient rivers and geological forces over eons.
Within these subterranean chambers, the desert's harsh environment gives way to a cooler, more stable climate. Here, sunlight filters through cracks and fissures in the chasm walls, casting a soft, ethereal glow upon the ancient rock formations. It's in this otherworldly sanctuary that the dragon egg found its resting place.
But how could an energy dragon egg hatch without direct sunlight? Sometimes Sivera did keep it in the sunlight, by analyzing how the previous parent eggs had hatched when he would have serendipitously kept them in direct sunlight. Maybe fate suggested him to do. And in the unique geological features of the cavern, deep within the earth, magma flows beneath the surface, heating the surrounding rock and creating a thermal oasis in the heart of the desert. This subterranean warmth provides the energy necessary for life to thrive in this hidden realm.
Now, here's where it gets truly fascinating. The magma deep within the earth is not just a product of geological processes; it's also a reservoir of the sun's energy, harnessed over millennia as Aeartha evolved from the primordial forces of Yigritha. Just as sunlight fuels life on the surface, the ancient energy stored within the earth's core radiates outward, sustaining the delicate balance of ecosystems both above and below ground.
So, while it may seem surprising that the dragon egg hatched in a cavern, the convergence of geological forces and the desert's harsh beauty created the perfect conditions for this miraculous event to occur. It's a testament to the resilience of life and the hidden wonders that lie beneath the surface of this world.
Additionally, the office room where the eggs were originally kept, the one Sivera stole, was shrouded in darkness and isolated from the sun's rays. Tucked away in the depths of the slave order, this chamber remained perpetually cold and devoid of any natural light. It was a stark contrast to the cavern's warm embrace and gentle illumination.
Pronunciations:
Zeth: [ZETH]
Wafferions: [WA]+[FEE]+[REE]+[AHNS]
Eeronsens: [EE]+[RON]+[SENS]
Extra Information:
In the complex game of Aeartha's economic landscape, two currencies reign supreme: Wafferions and Eeronsens. These currencies symbolize not just financial transactions but also the deep-seated divisions within society.
Wafferions, the older of the two currencies, emerged from the ashes of the barter system during the era of Amaulyans and Shulvris. Initially introduced as a means of standardizing trade and commerce, Wafferions held significant value across the land. However, as time marched forward and the influence of the Yahunyens grew, Wafferions began to lose their luster.
Enter Eeronsens, the currency of the Yahunyens and the embodiment of their dominance. Introduced gradually, Eeronsens soon became the preferred currency in most transactions, especially among the elite and powerful. Its rise to prominence marked a shift in economic power dynamics, with Wafferions relegated to a secondary role.
But the significance of these currencies transcends mere monetary value. Wafferions, once a symbol of unity and exchange, became associated with poverty and discrimination. Mackenasians, already marginalized and oppressed, found themselves further alienated by the devaluation of their currency. In the eyes of the Yahunyens and the privileged classes, Wafferions represented the currency of the downtrodden.
Conversely, Eeronsens became synonymous with privilege and affluence. Those who wielded this currency held not just economic power but also social status and influence. For the rest of the world, outside the realm of Mackenas, Eeronsens represented access to wealth and opportunity, a key to unlock doors that remained firmly shut to others and also the rest of the world except Mackenas, could use Wafferions with better freedom with almost none or less discrimination.
Thus, the tale of Wafferions and Eeronsens is not just a story of currency exchange but a reflection of the deep-seated inequalities and injustices that plague Aeartha. It serves as a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play.