The cold night air crept through the cracks of the stone chamber, but Njuwa barely felt it. His body ached from training, his hands raw from gripping the wooden staff. The bruises on his ribs throbbed with each shallow breath, but his mind refused to rest.
Jua.
She was somewhere in the fortress. Safe, perhaps. Or perhaps not. He had no way of knowing. That helplessness gnawed at him more than hunger or exhaustion.
Around him, the other boys lay curled against the stone walls, their breath shallow, their bodies worn. A few whispered among themselves, too quiet for him to hear. Others simply stared into the darkness, their eyes empty.
Beside him, Toro shifted, resting his head against the wall. "You should get some sleep."
Njuwa didn't answer.
Toro sighed. "Thinking about your sister?"
Njuwa turned to him. "You said she was lucky. What did you mean?"
Toro hesitated, then spoke in a low voice. "Baran doesn't kill his house servants unless they make a mistake. The worst they deal with is hard work and insults. But us?" He gestured to the chamber. "We don't get to live long unless we fight."
Njuwa frowned. "But some of the older boys—"
"Are still here because they learned how to survive," Toro interrupted. "The weak get sent to the mines, and no one comes back from there." His voice grew bitter. "Even guards don't make it far. They fight and kill for Baran, but if they ever disobey, they die like the rest."
Njuwa clenched his fists. So even strength wasn't enough. Not if he remained a slave.
"You fought well today," Toro said after a moment. "That'll put a target on your back."
Njuwa exhaled sharply. "Let them try."
Toro gave a quiet chuckle. "That fire of yours—it'll either keep you alive or get you killed."
Before Njuwa could respond, the iron gate groaned open. A guard entered, his armor clanking softly. He carried a wooden torch, its flickering light casting deep shadows on the walls. His gaze swept over the boys before settling on Njuwa.
"You," the guard barked. "Get up."
Njuwa tensed but obeyed.
Toro gave him a worried glance. "Careful, new blood."
The guard yanked Njuwa forward and shoved him toward the exit. "The Baron wants to see you."
A cold dread settled in his chest, but he didn't resist.
As he stepped out of the chamber, the torchlight revealed more of the fortress's interior—tall, gray stone walls, narrow corridors, and flickering torches casting eerie shadows. The sound of distant footsteps echoed through the halls.
They walked in silence, the guard leading him through the winding passages until they reached a large wooden door. The guard knocked twice.
"Enter," came a deep, commanding voice.
The door creaked open.
Njuwa stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to the man seated at a long wooden table.
Baron Baran.
Dressed in a deep blue robe embroidered with gold, he held a goblet of wine in one hand, his sharp gaze studying Njuwa as if he were a piece of meat. His long black hair was neatly tied back, and a faint smirk played on his lips.
"So," Baran mused, setting the goblet down. "The new slave who fights like a warrior."
Njuwa said nothing.
The Baron leaned forward. "You injured a boy today. Do you regret it?"
Njuwa met his gaze. "No."
Baran chuckled. "Good. Regret is useless." He gestured toward a servant who stood quietly by the wall. The man stepped forward, placing a plate of roasted meat and bread on the table. The rich aroma filled the room, making Njuwa's stomach tighten with hunger.
"Eat," Baran said.
Njuwa hesitated.
Baran raised an eyebrow. "Afraid it's poisoned?"
Njuwa didn't answer.
Baran chuckled again. "Smart. But no, I don't waste poison on slaves."
Reluctantly, Njuwa stepped forward and took a piece of bread. He ate slowly, resisting the urge to devour it.
Baran watched him with amusement. "You'll be useful."
Njuwa swallowed, his jaw tightening. "For what?"
The Baron's smirk widened. "That depends on you." He leaned back. "You have potential. Strength, defiance… qualities I can use. But defiance without purpose is foolish."
He gestured toward the guard. "Take him back."
As Njuwa turned to leave, Baran spoke again.
"Remember this, boy," he said. "In this world, power is everything. If you want to protect that sister of yours… you'd best learn quickly."
The words sent a shiver down Njuwa's spine.
He clenched his fists.
He would learn.
And one day, he would break these chains.