The early morning mist hung thick over the camp, the cold biting at Gorak's skin as he stretched his sore muscles before another day of labor. His eyes scanned the barracks, searching for familiar faces, when he spotted Grig rushing toward him, his face twisted in panic.
Gorak tensed, already knowing something was wrong. Grig was never up this early unless he had bad news. And from the look on his face, it was worse than usual.
"Gorak," Grig wheezed as he reached him, his eyes wild. "They... they've taken Leon."
Gorak's stomach dropped. "What do you mean, taken him? Who?"
"The guards," Grig stammered, his voice trembling. "Early this morning. Just before sunrise. They dragged him out of the barracks like he was some criminal. Business is done—closed for good. I can't trade with them anymore. They won't even look at me! This is bad, Gorak, really bad."
Gorak felt a chill run down his spine. Leon had been careful, so calculated in his moves, always thinking ten steps ahead. If the guards had taken him, it meant something had gone terribly wrong.
Grig was shaking now, his hands wringing nervously as he glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "I... I think they're going to make him disappear like Vek. You know what happens when someone gets taken like that. They don't come back."
The mention of Vek hit Gorak like a punch to the gut. Vek, the ex-soldier who had been dragged into the cruel games of the tournament and never returned. The rumors had circulated for weeks—the whispers that Vek had been killed in some twisted contest for the amusement of the lords. Now it seemed Leon might be headed down the same path.
Gorak clenched his fists, trying to keep his anger in check. "Why now? What did Leon do to get caught?"
Grig's eyes darted nervously. "I don't know! The guards, they've been jumpy ever since that boulder incident, and the overseers... they're paranoid. They think someone's out to get them. Some of them say it's the ghost of Vek haunting the place. I didn't think they'd come for Leon, though! He was careful, but... maybe they finally put it together."
Gorak's mind raced. Leon had been causing disruptions for weeks now—little accidents, minor injuries to the guards and overseers. It was all part of his plan to slowly weaken their control. But now it seemed like that plan had backfired.
"Grig," Gorak said, his voice low and dangerous, "are you sure you're not the reason they took him?"
Grig's face paled. "Me? I... I didn't say nothing! I swear! I've been careful. You know I'd never turn on Leon. He's my best customer! Business was booming, and now it's all gone."
"Then why are you so afraid?" Gorak pressed, stepping closer. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Because... because if they've taken Leon, it's only a matter of time before they come for me!" Grig's voice cracked. "I've been trading with him, and if the guards find out, I'll be next. They'll string me up like they did with Vek. I can't end up like that—bleeding out in some pit for the lord's entertainment."
Gorak's lip curled in disgust. Grig was a coward, always looking out for himself, always fearing the worst. But this time, his fear wasn't misplaced. If the guards had Leon, they were getting closer to uncovering everything. And if Grig started panicking, he might do something stupid.
"Calm down," Gorak growled, grabbing Grig by the collar. "You keep your mouth shut, you hear me? If you talk, you won't have to worry about the guards coming for you. I'll deal with you myself."
Grig's eyes widened in terror, and he nodded frantically. "I won't say a word. I swear it!"
Gorak released him, pushing him back. "Good. Now get out of here before someone notices."
Grig scampered off like a frightened animal, leaving Gorak standing alone in the cold morning air, his thoughts spinning.
Leon had been the one keeping things together, the one with the plan. And now he was gone, taken by the very guards they had been working to undermine. The fear was palpable among the slaves, the whispers growing louder with every passing day. And now, without Leon, it was only going to get worse.
Gorak clenched his fists tighter. He couldn't let it all fall apart. Not now.
But what could he do? He wasn't a strategist like Leon. He was a fighter, plain and simple. His strength was in his fists, not his mind. And if Leon had been caught, there was no telling what would happen next.
His thoughts turned back to Vek, the man who had been like a brother to him in those early days of their enslavement. Vek had always believed that they would escape together, that they would find a way out of this hell. And now he was dead, his memory twisted into some ghost story told to frighten the overseers.
But maybe... maybe that ghost story could still work to their advantage. Maybe the fear could be used, just as Leon had intended.
Gorak gritted his teeth. "I'll make sure they don't forget you, Leon," he muttered under his breath. "One way or another."
With that, he turned back to the barracks, his mind set on finding a way to continue Leon's work—even if it meant becoming the ghost that haunted the camp.