Date: UC 0453.021.12 Time: 5:39
(2 days before Kenos's Birthday)
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the rugged landscape of Xylophia-IV. The air was thick with the acrid scent of blood and decay, a grim reminder of the nearby slaughterhouse where the byproducts of cosmic monsters were processed. As Kenos rose from his worn cot, he felt the familiar weight of the day ahead settle heavily on his shoulders.
Kenos is a boy of pale skin, almost translucent in the dim light of his cottage. His sharp cheekbones and gaunt features spoke of the starvation he endured as a slave of House Morgan, His tangled black hair framed dark blue pupils that glimmered with wariness and a deep-seated yearning for freedom. The bruises that mapped his arms and torso were a testament to the harsh life he led, each mark telling a story of struggle and resilience.
Kenos live in a cottage. That is a ramshackle structure, its walls made from aged timber, patched with scraps of fabric and moss. Located just a stone's throw from the slaughterhouse, the cottage shook with the distant sounds of machinery and the cries of monsters as they met their gruesome fates. The small window, covered with a thin layer of grime, let in feeble rays of light that illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air.
Kenos rose, stretching his limbs to dispel the stiffness of sleep. The duties of the day loomed before him—sorting through the byproducts of monsters, a task dangerous yet necessary for the clan's survival. He moved to the small washbasin in the corner, splashing water on his face to wake up fully, feeling the chill invigorate his senses.
Next, he pulled on a threadbare shirt and a pair of patched trousers, clothing that hung loosely on his thin frame. The fabric was rough against his skin, a constant reminder of his status as a slave. He tied a leather belt around his waist, securing a small satchel where he would keep essential tools—tweezers for picking through the hazardous remains and a small dagger for protection.
With a deep breath, Kenos stepped outside, squinting against the bright light of the sun. The world beyond the cottage was alive with sounds—chirping birds and rustling leaves, yet it also resonated with an underlying tension from the shadowfen, where danger lurked.
As he made his way to the work site, Kenos spotted Lyra standing by the entrance, her yellow hair catching the light and shimmering like a beacon. Her slightly green eyes sparkled with warmth, and her cute face broke into a smile as she noticed him.
"Good morning, Kenos!" she called out, her voice cheerful despite the grim surroundings.
Kenos responded with a lazy wave and a half-hearted smile, his eyes still bleary from sleep. "Morning, Lyra," he replied, his tone barely masking his weariness.
Lyra's expression shifted slightly, a hint of concern etching across her features. "You know, the load of work is getting heavier. The senior assigned to us is really cracking down. He expects us to handle everything and then some."
Kenos shrugged, trying to brush off her worries. "Just another day in paradise," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He couldn't muster the energy to engage in her optimism, even if it stemmed from genuine concern.
As he continued walking, Kenos couldn't help but think about Lyra. She is a kind girl, a rare light in a world dominated by greed and ruthlessness. In the harsh reality they live in, where kindness was often seen as a weakness, her compassion stood out like a beacon. Yet, for Kenos, that kindness felt misplaced—a naive spark that could easily be extinguished by the relentless brutality of their existence.
He despised the notion of kindness in such a dog-eat-dog world, where survival often depended on ruthlessness and cunning. Lyra's gentle nature confused him; it was as if she were trying to soften the jagged edges of their lives with her warmth. As he approached the processing site, he shook off the thoughts of her kindness, focusing instead on the grim task ahead.
With a sigh, Kenos steeled himself for another day of dangerous work. He could almost hear the echoes of Eryndor's words from the book he cherished, urging him toward a brighter future, yet the weight of reality held him firmly in place.
12:40 - Break time
The clang of metal echoed through the processing site as the midday bell rang, signaling the much-anticipated break. Kenos felt a wave of relief wash over him, momentarily lifting the weight of labor from his shoulders. He joined the line of slaves shuffling toward the makeshift serving area, where the smell of hard bread and thin soup wafted through the air.
As Kenos approached the counter, he saw Lyra standing behind it, her hands deftly serving the others. Her yellow hair framed her face, and her green eyes sparkled with determination as she worked, handing out the meager rations with a smile.
"Hey, Kenos," she said, brightening up as he came near. "It's your lucky day!"
"Lucky day?" he replied with a half-hearted grin, expecting the same meager portion as always.
With a gentle flick of her wrist, she scooped a generous helping of soup into his cup. "You need more to keep your strength up. Here, take this too," she said, slipping an extra piece of hard bread into his hands.
Kenos was taken aback by her kindness. "You don't have to—"
"I want to," she insisted, her voice firm but soft. "You work harder than most. You deserve it."
Grateful yet uneasy, he accepted the larger portion and stepped aside to find a place to eat. As he settled onto a rough-hewn bench, he tore into the bread, savoring the extra sustenance it offered. The soup, while thin, warmed him in a way the cold reality of their lives often couldn't.
As he ate, he couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude for Lyra's kindness, even if it made him uncomfortable.
But that moment of solace was short-lived.
"Look who it is," a mocking voice cut through the air. Kenos turned to see Rax, the troublemaker of the workplace. Rax was a hulking figure, his muscles taut beneath his tattered clothes, and his face twisted into a permanent sneer. He had connections with the manager and used them to bully others, relishing the power he held over the slaves.
"Thought you were too good for the rest of us, huh?" Rax spat, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Kenos's larger portion. "What did you do, sweet-talk Lyra into giving you a bigger meal? Or are you just the manager's favorite little pet?"
Kenos's jaw tightened as he attempted to ignore him, but Rax wasn't finished. "You know what I hate?" Rax leaned in closer, the stench of sweat and filth wafting over Kenos. "I hate weaklings. And you? You're nothing but a pathetic little worm crawling through the dirt."
Kenos felt his anger boil over but tried to suppress it. "Leave me alone, Rax," he said, his voice steady but low.
"Leave you alone?" Rax barked a harsh laugh, stepping closer until he was nearly nose to nose with Kenos. "What, so you can keep pretending you're better than the rest of us? You think you're special because you got a little extra bread? You're still just a slave, like the rest of us."
Kenos could feel the weight of Rax's words crushing him, but he stood his ground. "I'm not afraid of you."
Rax's expression darkened, and he suddenly shoved Kenos hard, sending him stumbling back against the bench. "You should be," he growled, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "You think you're safe here? I can make your life a living hell with just a word. Or I could break you myself."
Lyra stepped forward, eyes wide with fear. "Rax, stop it!" she pleaded. "There's no need for this!"
Rax shot her an icy glare, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Stay out of this, Lyra. This isn't your fight." He turned back to Kenos, his smile twisted and cruel. "Remember this moment, worm. You think you can stand up to me? I'll make you regret it."
Kenos clenched his fists, heart pounding. Rax's threats hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the danger they faced daily. "I'll survive," Kenos said through gritted teeth, refusing to back down.
Rax's smile widened, and he leaned in closer, whispering, "For now, maybe. But I'll be watching you. You won't always be so lucky."
With a final sneer, Rax turned and swaggered away, leaving Kenos shaken but resolute. He felt Lyra's worried gaze on him and took a deep breath to steady himself.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, concern etched on her features.
Kenos sighed, taking a bite of his bread. "I will be. Thanks to you."