Waking up in my own bed made me feel sick. Thugs were in here and dropped me off here. The house was empty, and felt defiled. Worrying for my family, I set out to work.

Mulling over what I know, Tunsten has been on high alert and has been cracking down on this cursed drug Serin. Tunsten has a large mage academy in the centre of the city, and the economy revolves around it. With the exam period in the next couple of months, they have stepped up the security, to the point of any importing of goods has slowed to a crawl with their new over-zealous methods. It makes sense though as the drug gives an intense high and boosts magic capabilities by almost ten times. It can turn any civilian with a little bit of magic aptitude into a mid-tier mage and would make a joke out of the academy and their exams.

I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about this... I had vowed to never work with smuggling drugs or people with Jinten. Instead I strictly moved stolen goods to other cities for sale. Creating secret compartments in products and working with shady caravans to get goods undetected into or out of the city was my 'specialty' for Jinten. Outside of my work with Jinten, I ran a medium sized trading company that specialized in home goods and survival gear, but never used my business for these criminal endeavours.

Reviving my network of contacts, I was able to get a bit of information on Tunsten and its city entrances. They have trained Blood Dogs and hopped them up on the drug. Blood Dogs have a strong sense of smell, and magic detection. Apparently, Serin does give off a residual mana.

I touch my coin purse absent mindedly. I caught myself for a moment and smile. Anna would always ask me what's on the problem,as I would always touch my coin purse when thinking about losing money.

I shake my head, it's for my family's safe return, no need to think about the costs.

For the extra 11 silver draughts I spent, I learned there has been some successful runs using the herb Lapon to mask the smell, but doesn’t stop the mana leaking out. The dogs are less likely to flag it, but since this discovery, guards have been hyper vigilant with Lapon shipments and opening every package with it.

Ok, with all the information organized, it's time to put together my plan.

With everything learned, it looks like I will have to take the risky plan of creating and exporting some magical lockboxes. The contents in a magical lockbox usually consisted of a slip of paper saying congratulations, and a small flyer of the producer. The weight is very important and the lockboxes are heavily regulated. Lockboxes need to have a very particular weight and will have a lot of documentation following them. They were heavily used as tools for smuggling before regulation, but lockboxes haven’t been used as smuggling tools for decades now. The only people who try are stupid or desperate people, and I was at least one of those.

I will need to utilize all my skills to make this happen.

Keeping the weight limitations in mind, I set out to work on the boxes itself, and to match the expected weight of a lockbox.

I lock myself in my workshop. My hand brushes over the lighter wood of the Thistlethorn, that wood is always smooth to the touch. The lockboxes' standards are either Ironwood or Dark Timber, but that’s generally used to prevent physical entry. Hopefully it won't get to the point that they try to smash it at the border. My hands start moving on their own. Building small boxes are easy enough and the shop fills with a freash wood cut smell.

With the boxes shaping up, I used a pungent, dark stain to match the consistency of the Dark Timber. To move away from the overwhelming staining compound smell, I move to the corner of the shop where I am storing my freshly dried Lapon. Normally to save money, I would have dried it myself to ensure the freshness of the herbs, but being short on time, I had to spend the extra. Drying would be required to keep the weight low to meet the weight limit.

Playing around the portioning and the boxes, I split the dried Lapon and split the Serin between three boxes, getting the weights just right, and securing the herbs and drugs to the base to stop any sloshing.

Boxes are still tacky, but with the sun setting, I need to get these out tonight. I unlock the workshop door and the familiar sudden feeling the panic sets in. It always felt safe working in my locked workshop, but as soon as I unlock the door, it feels like I can be caught at any moment.

Stacking up my new boxes, I walk out of the house, doing my best to seem non-chalant.

---

My damp jacket from the air hangs on the back of my workshop chair. Double checking my workshop door is locked, I move to my desk and open the false panel in my desk. Pulling out my notepad, I settle in for the final stint of my work.

I can't help but think of my family's savings dwindling from all the spending over this week. Everything but the money I tucked away at the cottage has been pulled. I don't even think I have any favours left from the underground merchants.

One of my last favours I cashed in was with a mage I had helped get out of Jinten’s clutches while I was still paying off my fathers’ debt. I remember he always liked making new puzzels, so thankfully he was able to help me out with my request. He created a new magic circle that wouldn’t have been seen before at the border. This will allow me to classify it as a new product for review to the school. It means that it doesn't meet the same restrictions, and a little less paperwork that would need to be forged. He called it a surprise lock, the magic circle that was drawn was simply a basic lock, but with the simple lock circle he could overlay another circuit that would play a trumpet noise. As long as no intermediate mage or above looked at it, it should pass off as something unrecognizable to guards and the student mages assisting at the boarder.

Looking over my notes I strike off all the items off on one of my lists: Lockboxes built, magic circles installed, scent masked, weight matched, and the paperwork forged.

I had spent the last of my savings on a professional caravan, telling them where to deliver it, and paying extra to tell them where it needs to be lost. I only have a few copper draughts, but at least I still have the money at the cottage left, once my wife and daughter are freed, we will flee to the cottage and make our way to another province, far away from Jinten and his reach.

I strike off the 'caravan' from my list. Looking over everything, it was all done. I toss the notebook into the fireplace and watch the fire consume my crimes.

Now all there was to wait.

Jinten would collect me when he got word. I had already sent the message, as per usual, with the delivery date and location. When he gets confirmation, I will be waking up in his god forsaken dungeon. The only people he would allow to visit him on their own accord were adventurers, people who had a reason to go into a dungeon. Everyone else would get “comfortably” transported in their sleep.

Jinten years ago discovered a secret space within the natural dungeon for his base of operations, close to the surface, but not discoverable by passing adventurers. Monsters would not spawn in the area as long as someone was in the secret space, which was never an issue.

As I watch the fire, there was one thing that bothered me and keeps running through my head. What did he mean when he said ‘orders on high’? I had asked a few of my contacts, while working on this smuggling task, but nothing concrete came back. In order for me to get out from under his boot, I need to blow up his operation, and to do that, I need to find out his source.

It’s not like I can sleep anyway with my wife and child in that godforsaken place. I open up a new notebook and continue my train of thought.

---

“You fucking bastard!” I awake to, with a familiar boot to the back of my head and cold stone to my face. Jinten’s familiar voice echoing above me. I try and roll over fast enough to avoid the kick in my side, but instead get kicked in the stomach, reminding me that my rib has not yet healed.

“We got a snooper here boys. Someone who thinks he grew the balls to stop us. What do we do about customers who think they grow balls?” He looks around the room.

“We cut them off.” the room chants back unanimously.

“That’s right boys!” He returns his attention to me, “But boys, some of you have been getting too literal with me. I don’t want to lose any chance to provide a teaching moment." Jineten pauses for a moment, "Did you know that there are multiple ways to cut off a client’s balls?”

I catch my breath and plead, “I did want you asked of me, beat me up, do whatever, just let my wife and child go!”

Jinten Chuckles and continues yelling to the crowd, “See boys. This customer has paid us back fully, and the deal was we would release his wife and daughter, right?” The question hangs in the air.

Why is this a question? Why aren't they just letting my family go?

“But here he is, telling us what to do. We also finds out that he’s snooping where he shouldn’t, and asking our own partners about our business.” He starts pounding his chest, "OUR BUSINESS!"

Jinten crouches down in front of me, brandishing a pair of rusty scissors.

“But boys, do you hear what he said, 'do whatever'. The man clearly doesn’t care about what we do to him. So if we just cut off his balls, he’s still going to think he can get back at us. You need to know what makes a man, what he will do in a given situation, and what will break him.”

Jinten pauses for a bit and nods to a thug. Two men leave the room and start dragging to sleeping people into the room.

Both Anna and Salivan are dragged out in a sleeping state. My daughter seems to be unharmed, but Anna… Poor Anna. It’s clear that she has been beaten multiple times, dried blood under her nose and around her lips.

“Don’t worry Lindey. Your daughter has been on a strict regiment of food, shitter, and sleep. We strive to be better than the competition, and we won’t touch girls under 12. That said, they do say that having Sleep cast on you everyday can cause permanent brain injury, but that’s a risk we just had to take Lindey.” His face contorts to a twisted smile, "I am sure you understand."

He continues with that twisted smile plastered on, “Your wife on the other hand, she was very useful for the morale. Once I pulled off her fingernails, I lost my enjoyment of her, so she’s been keeping my boys entertained.”

My eyes snap to her open hand, bloodied scabs at the ends of her fingers.

“YOU BASTAR-” A fist hits me in the nose.

“I thought we talked about yelling last time.”

JInten gets up with his scissors. My head still reeling.

“Now let me show you how to break a customer.” He addresses to his men along the walls. Walking over to Anna, he places his foot on her head.

I can’t quite speak but end up making some grunts and groans in protest.

“Anna, time to wake up.” Jinten says quietly.

I see her eyes start to flicker open. I see her looking around frantically and when our eyes meet, we lock in on each other.

Her mouth is obscured a bit by the angle, but I can see her mouth out “Linden... Run…” Her face contorted in fear with tear rolling down her cheek.

What followed was a sound I will forever hear. A sickening crack has Jinten stomped on Anna’s head.

Immediantly I made an attempt to move but felt multiple hands grab me and held my head in position to watch Jinten stab Anna multiple times. Forced to watch my wife die by the hands of the psychopath. Forced to watch him cut the fingers off of her, as my daughter slept beside her dead mother. Watching the blood spray splatter over my daughters face.

---

I can’t remember when I passed out, but when I did come to, I was face to face with my daughter. I still feel the tears running down my cheeks, but now my mouth mouth was gagged.

“He’s a fucking screamer. I hate man’s screams. So ugly.” Jinten said, still covered in my wife’s blood.

“Looks like he's awake now! Now here’s the good part boys, here’s the break. Pay attention.” He puts his foot on the back of Salivan.

“Good Morning Salivan.” Time to wake up.

I once again see the fluttering of eyes, much like my wife, but she locks onto me as the first thing. Thankfully not seeing the horror that is beside her.

“Daddy! What’s Happening! These men-” Jinten pushes down on her back and leans over.

“Remember dear what we talked about, children should only talk when spoken to.” He wiggles his foot on my daughters back.

I am struggling to break free and try to speak to my daughter, but only muffled words come out through the gag.

“Now, Salivan. I have something to show you. I don’t mean to shock you, but your dad is a very very bad man. He’s a monster. Remember, what you are about to see is your dad’s wrong doing and we have to punish him.”

My eyes go wide, as I watch Jinten grabbing Silivan’s long black hair and twists her head to see her mother’s corpse. Fingers sprinkled about the pools of blood.

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM” her shriek pierces the air and my heart. There is no way to shelter her from this horror that has unfolded in front of her.

“DAAAD, WHY---WHY WOULD---WHY DID YOU KILL MOM!?” Something broke in me. I closed my eyes and bawled.

“Linden, You shouldn’t miss the final moments, don’t cha' think?” Jinten chuckles.

My eyes snap open immediately. Just in time to watch the light leaving my daughters eyes, and Jinten’s godforsaken Scissors coming out of my daughter back.

“Damn, she only had one scream in her.” Jinten kept plunging his scissors in and out of her. Over and over again.

My throat hurts, I can feel the bile creeping up, and my vision completely blurred due to tears.

Jinten walks over to me and lifts my head.

“See boys, this is a broken man. He lost everything. It’s important to understand what makes up your customer. You have three types of people. First is the vengeance seeking people. These people are filled with rage and have nothing left to lose; you just have to kill them off. Another becomes subservient, and the last ends up just killing themselves off.” He lets go and my head and I let my head fall back to the ground. I hear my head crack off of the ground, but it doesn't matter anymore.

“See, this boy isn’t one of them vengeful types by the looks of it. The rage though can boil up a few days later. Always be careful, even if this boy looks like the latter two, we need to make sure.”

He stands up, and sounds like he walked to the other side of the room.

“Borris, it’s your turn. Take him to his house and keep watch over him for the next few days. Don’t let him outta your site, or even let him leave the house. I hope we will be able to use him in the future after his grieving, and keep him reminded that we own him. If Lindey does try to kill himself, don't stop him. If he starts to get angry though, kill him and make it look like a robbery gone wrong.”

For a little while, no one spoke.

I realize with the silence now, I am still sobbing and wailing against my gag. I must not have stopped since Anna was killed.

“Men are just the worst. Bring the mage and take him away.”

That damn blue robe entered shortly after, and the chant started up again.

Before passing out, I hear two voices I don’t recognize. They ended up arguing what kind of equipment they might see getting created in the dungeon when two fine ladies ended up dying in the dungeon.

That was the last time I saw my family.

----

I couldn’t get out of bed for the first couple days, and though I was hungry, I thought dying of hunger was a fitting way to go. That said, hearing a man milling about my house, and one that would willingly work with Jinten, breathed life into me. It blew air into some smouldering embers of hate and rage inside me. It gave me enough energy to get out of bed eventually, and put together some ingredients from my workshop to make a poison. I never have made poison, or killed anyone, but I figure it’s the only way to get out from under Jinten and plan my next move. I have to kill this 'Borris' fellow and get out of the city and make my way to the cottage, the one that only we… that only I know about.

I made myself a meal as Borris sat inside my family's home, watching everything I do. He’s been eating my food, sitting on my wifes chair, and from time to time, glancing at my daughter’s artwork. Him being here is the only thing fueling me right now. He doesn’t make any noise, just silently watching me, and getting visibly uneasy when I pick up a knife to chop up some near expired vegetables.

I bring myself to try and eat, but I can only stomach two or three bites. There was no taste in the food. I was able to set the stage for my escape though in doing so. Borris would definitely eat my leftovers, why wouldn’t he? So while I was putting the food away, I mixed the poison into my food and put it away and slinked back to bed.

---

It only took a couple hours, but I hear some clattering and a body hitting the floor. I recognized that noise well, as I would almost always hear myself falling from that Sleep spell before I was totally unconscious.

I check on him before heading out. He’s choking on some of the food, sweating profusely, pale, and unresponsive. The little humanity left in me, I clear his air way, and lay him on his side, so if he vomits, he doesn’t choke further.

Leaving, maybe it wasn’t humanity, but a belief that my wife and daughter are watching me, and can still see I am not a murdering monster like the man that killed them.

I slip into the night, praying that Borris would die by my poison though.

---

It’s been a few weeks in the cottage. I am laying in the bed I dragged into the living room. I have no drive. I have lost a lot of weight. I can still feel my pudge and cheeks still feel full, but I probably haven’t been this light in 10-20 years.

The walk from the city to the cottage, I had grand plans. I was going to pursue my leads I found out when I investigated Serin further, and that there were corrupted officials within the Church of Alexia supporting Jinten. I was going to have Jinten and his gang hanged for murder. As soon as I arrived, I pulled out our secret emergency stash hidden in the earth, 3 gold draughts.

I made it to a local farm and purchased enough food for a couple weeks from the last of my pocket money... but after that... I just... couldn't.

I lost the little anger in me. Without the anger, there was just emptiness. I laid in bed for days after.

Being in the kitchen, I kept looking around and living out memories of all the happy times we had as a family.

My eyes keep passing over the kitchen knife we have.

...

I just want to be reunited with my family.