'That senile priest,' Varakh thought, his lips curling into a sneer as he paced restlessly within his chamber. 'Even after all my dedicated practice, after all my efforts to prove myself, he still sends me to some ancient ruin, as if I were some common soldier.' His gaze swept across the room, lingering on the weapons and scrolls that lined the walls, each object a testament to his ambition, his thirst for power. 'If not for those apprentices I took under my wing, I would have been forced to venture out there alone with a handful of expendable slaves, and likely met a gruesome end.' A cruel smile twisted his lips as another thought struck him.
'Ah yes, the apprentices,' he mused, his steps quickening as he made his way through the dimly lit corridors of the temple. The eerie silence of the place was almost suffocating. 'I should pay a visit to Tamara. It's been a while since we last spoke.' A flicker of something akin to excitement danced in his eyes.
He was genuinely surprised when she had shown no concern, not even a flicker of remorse, when he had informed her of the plan to use the three slaves as bait, that they were as good as dead. He had initially believed that she was merely using him, drawing close to him in an attempt to protect her old lover. But he had been wrong. 'That woman,' he thought, a chuckle escaping his lips, 'doesn't care about him at all.'
The realization both intrigued and amused him. He found himself imagining Sorken's face, the look of utter despair and betrayal when the truth about his precious 'love' would finally dawn on him as he breathed his last. The thought sent a thrill of anticipation through him, a dark pleasure that he savored with a sinister grin. Although he had not interacted with sorken directly, it didnt mean he wont enjoy such a scene.
Soon, Varakh reached Tamara's chamber, the heavy wooden door intricately carved with symbols of the Sun God. He could almost feel the power emanating from the room, a subtle energy that made the hairs on his arms stand on end. "Open the gate, my apprentice," he called out, his voice a smooth, almost melodious purr. "It's me."
The gate creaked open, revealing Tamara within.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Holy City, far from the opulent chambers of the temple, the guards escorted Sorken, Jorah, and Kesta to the bustling commoners' market. The stark contrast between the sterile, oppressive atmosphere of the temple and the vibrant chaos of the market was almost jarring. It was as if they had stepped into another world, a world teeming with life, with sights and sounds and smells that were both familiar and foreign.
According to the guards, Soru had ordered them to ensure the slaves enjoyed a hearty meal and experienced some semblance of pleasure before their perilous journey. He wanted them to be "comfortable" in the ruins, a statement that, in itself, was both absurd and ominous. The guards did not elaborate, but Sorken could see right through it.
'In my world,' Sorken mused, a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes, 'my boss used to treat us to lavish dinners before we had to give presentations to important clients. It was a way to ease our nerves, to make sure we were relaxed and performed at our best. I can tell that Soru is trying to do something similar'
But Sorken wasn't going to dwell on it. He couldn't afford to. Not now. He had to seize this opportunity, this fleeting moment of respite. He had to taste everything, to experience every sensation, to fill the void that had been growing inside him since their arrival in this strange, hostile world. Living on a meager diet of bland vegetable soup, a soup that mysteriously lacked any actual vegetables, and hard, dry black bread that was more akin to stone, this was a chance he couldn't miss, a feast he had to devour. He could see the same hunger, the same desperation, reflected in the eyes of Jorah and Kesta.
The guards, surprisingly, did not try to restrict them. They followed them at a distance, silent and watchful, but they paid for everything the three slaves desired, every morsel of food, every exotic delicacy.
As he was enjoying his meals, Sorken saw one of the guards was looking at him intently as if scrutanizing him. 'Well' Sorken thought it was normal. They were acting no better than a beggar at the moment.
"This is like a dream," Kesta exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion, tears welling up in his eyes as he bit into a juicy piece of roasted meat. It was the first time Sorken had seen him so genuinely happy, so carefree, since their arrival. There was a childlike wonder in his eyes, a spark of joy that had been absent for far too long.
"Damn, it is," Jorah echoed, his mouth full, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and delight. He tore into a loaf of freshly baked bread, the aroma filling the air, a stark contrast to the stale, hard bread they were used to.
"Let's eat everything this town has to offer!" Sorken declared, a grin spreading across his face. "Let's goooo!" He joined them, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks, and together, they embarked on a culinary adventure, a feast for the senses. It was as if they were trying to fill the emptiness inside them, to make up for all the meals they had missed, for all the joy that had been stolen from them.
Back in the temple, in the dimly lit chamber, Varakh reclined in Tamara's arms, a sense of languid satisfaction washing over him. "Ahh, I'm tired," he sighed, his voice a soft murmur. "We haven't even eaten anything yet. Let's rest for a while."
"So soon?" Tamara teased, a playful pout forming on her lips. "You're no fun today." She gently pushed him away, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She had never seen him like this, and she had to admit, she liked seeing this side of him.
"I was thinking about something," Varakh admitted, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling, his mind elsewhere. "You said you had no problem with our plan of using them as bait, and you don't have any feelings for Sorken, so my question might not matter, but I'm curious." His eyes met hers, a hint of genuine curiosity flickering within them.
"Curious about what, exactly?" Tamara asked, her voice soft, her eyes searching his.
"You know what I'm asking," Varakh said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "That guy, Sorken, he doesn't seem like the type who could hurt someone, unlike Ted, for example. If you were with him for six years, how could you be so indifferent towards him? And he seems to genuinely care about you. I was so jealous that I even changed the training module, or you might have chosen him over me." He let out a short, humorless laugh.
Tamara's lips curled into a sly smile. "I will tell you," she said, her voice thoughtful, "on one condition."
"What condition?" Varakh frowned, his brow furrowing in suspicion. "Do you think you are in any position to bargain?"
"It's not much," she purred, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "I want to be the one to break Sorken's spirit. Don't let Ted near him. Like Ted, I prefer to end things connected to me myself."
Varakh stood up, his gaze fixed on her, his eyes searching hers. "That won't be hard," he conceded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Now, tell me."
"Oh dear, you're scaring me," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't look at me as if I'm some petty criminal." She leaned back on her bed, a sigh escaping her lips. "It started six years ago, when we were both in school. I told you what a school is, right?" Varakh nodded in agreement, his gaze unwavering.
"One day," she continued, her voice taking on a dreamy, almost nostalgic tone, "Sorken comes to me and asks if I want to be his girlfriend. This happened completely out of the blue. I had barely spoken to him before that." A nostalgic gleam in her eyes as she relived her memories on earth.
"He was a strange boy. I had seen him earlier but recently he had started to become more and more popular. We were teenagers, i had no reason to refuse. He looked fine enough and it was easy to judge that he was not poor. We started to go out, and soon, I realized I was nothing but his shadow. As for why? I dont know myself."
I thought he would go to some famous college and leave me behind, and I could finally live my own life, not as an attachment to someone else. But, guess what? He decided to support his family and joined a famous company in the same city that designed and traded weapons. He had apparently been working there as an intern for a long time, he was barely in his teens…and they thought he was capable enough for a full-time position"
"Are you following, Varakh? If it's boring, you don't have to listen. It doesn't matter now, anyway."
"I'm listening," Varakh assured her, his voice low and intense. "I was just thinking how big of a fool he must be to live all those years without realizing that you were not in love with him. It truly amazes me."
"Who told you he didn't know?" Tamara asked, a sly smile playing on her lips. "He suspected that I didn't love him. But I used his emotions against him. I told him that I was so comfortable with him that I didn't feel the need to express my love every day. Since then, he never doubted me again. He started doing everything I asked, without question, without hesitation. Isn't that funny?"
"It sure is," Varakh agreed, a chuckle escaping his lips. "I have a question, though. Why didn't you leave him when you felt like a 'shadow'?" He was genuinely curious now, intrigued by her story, by the depths of her manipulation.
"You said he was a fool, right?" Tamara said, her eyes sparkling with a cold amusement. "But a fool made of gold, a fool I could control, was far more valuable to me. I did think about leaving him, many times. But over the years, I had become too dependent on him for everything. I didn't know the last time I had to worry about paying a bill, or even think about joining a college or pursuing a career. I was living a life of comfort, a life without responsibility. I decided to milk him for a few more years, to secure my future before finally cutting him loose."
"And after he joined that job," she continued, her voice taking on a more serious tone, "I don't know what the hell he was doing, but he was earning money like there was no tomorrow. I had already saved a considerable amount, but I decided to wait three or four more years. I figured that with that kind of money, I could live my whole life without ever having to work a single day.
And then," she paused, her gaze drifting towards the window, as if lost in thought, "we were walking in that park, and we got teleported." She looked at Varakh, her eyes searching his, before asking him for some water.
"You have to understand one thing. What we shared was something that confused us on what it was. Even though I thought It was love for a long time. Unlike this world, life in our world is short for everyone. There is no way a person wouldn't grow old or die within 100 years. Even that's a stretch.
"When you reach your teens, there is this sudden feeling that if you lose your chance at love now, you won't get it ever. We were technically just kids so this feeling was even more prominent. Thus, even when I felt stifled, I considered it as a part of the process, a problem that can be fixed.
"This world is not a zero sum game and it isn't that I never took my own petty revenge from him. Making sure I was the most important person in his life that we will even ignore his family at times. Isn't that already cruel? Later when I got to know his struggles, did I console him? Yes. But, did I help him to view things from a different perspective? No."
Varakh fetched her a cup of water, his mind racing, trying to process everything she had told him.
"I don't think I need to tell you more," Tamara said, taking a sip of water,
"but coming here, to this strange world, was the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't feel stifled and I can see things more clearly. I don't even hate him but seeing him hopeful, I have this feeling where I want to see him in despair. I just want to…. I feel the knot in my heart that I have carried for years will be destroyed and I will be ready to take this life as a new starting.
"He made me his shadow for six years, and now, he was in a position where he was dying to become a small part of my shadow. How the tables have turned, haven't they?" She laughed, a cold, brittle sound that echoed in the silent chamber.
"Now, I don't need him to whine around me, to remind me of who I used to be. It's best that he dies. He was my lifeline in my past life. He can fulfill that role again in this life by sacrificing himself for me tomorrow. I wouldn't even have talked to him if not for you asking me to act as I would in the past."
"You are a cold-hearted woman," Varakh said, his voice a mixture of admiration and apprehension. He had never met anyone like her before, so ruthless, so calculating, so utterly devoid of empathy.
"Huh," Tamara scoffed, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Don't tell me you won't enjoy watching me break him, watching me crush his spirit." She looked at him, her eyes narrowed, a challenge flickering within them.
"Can't complain," Varakh admitted, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "How can a man not be happy seeing another man, who took his woman into his embrace, die like a dog?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, his breath warm against her ear. "I know you'll leave me too, when I become useless," he murmured, "but boy, that gives me a thrill! I like women who can challenge me, who can make me feel… inadequate."
Varakh didn't notice the conflicted expression that currently encaptured her beautiful face. She was struggling to make a choice, what choice? Only she knew.
Meanwhile, Sorken, Jorah, and Kesta were indulging in their feast, their stomachs full, their senses overwhelmed by the explosion of flavors. They ate like there was no tomorrow, savoring every bite, every taste, as if they were trying to make up for all the meals they had missed, for all the joy that had been stolen from them. "You know," Jorah said, looking at the guards who stood at a distance, their faces impassive, "you people could have behaved like this since the beginning. We might have actually become friends."
The guards remained silent, their expressions unreadable. "Still so boring," Jorah muttered, shaking his head. "I guess you'll only talk when we become guards after this mission, huh? Hahaha!" He threw his arms around Sorken and Kesta, pulling them close in a rare display of camaraderie. "To friends and friendship!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the market. "We will be free tomorrow!"
Sorken and Kesta joined in, their voices rising in a chorus of hopeful defiance. "To freedom!" they shouted, their hearts filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. They knew the dangers that awaited them, the risks they were taking, but for the first time since their arrival in this strange world, they felt a glimmer of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, they could survive, that they could find a way out of this nightmare.
That night, as they lay in their barracks, Jorah and Kesta drifted off to sleep quickly, their bodies exhausted, their stomachs full. Sorken, however, found sleep elusive. He had never seen such calm expressions on their faces since the day they had arrived in this strange world.
He had been so focused on gathering information, on understanding this new reality, on Tamara, that he had never really taken the time to get to know these two men, these companions who shared his fate. Now, as they faced the prospect of death, he realized that he knew almost nothing about their lives, their dreams, their fears.
'No,' he thought, berating himself, 'it was those bastards. We barely had enough energy to eat, let alone talk and socialize. How could we have gotten to know each other in those conditions?' He shook his head, trying to dispel the guilt that gnawed at him.
'I shouldn't blame myself for everything. If we survive, I will make sure to get to know them better. They might become my first real friends in this strange, hostile world.'
With that thought, Sorken finally closed his eyes, his mind filled with a mix of hope and apprehension, and drifted off into a restless sleep. The fate of all the people involved was soon to be determined, and none of them had any clue what was going to happen next.