Chapter 8- Sweet Freedom

~ P.O.V. Of Tyor ~

I am part of the mighty race known as Thorns. We have complete dominance over plants. We are very prideful, but very loyal because after we have a master we can never have another. However, as of right now, I am a slave. I can no longer choose my master because of those bastards who dare sneak up on a man in the middle of his business. I would do something to escape, being the prideful existence such as myself, but they have a sorcerer. One who has transcended the limits and has power to overwhelm even an elder Thorn. Although he is strong since he sides with those bastards I will never recognize him.

Currently they have taking me to an outlier village in southern most region of Elms. Our voyage was halted by a mysterious light that blanketed the south. One can't go anywhere without hearing something about that phenomenon. I have been planning an escape for awhile now, but that sorcerer had realized that and now I have a rune marking on the back of my neck that tracks any movement I make. It's so frustrating I cannot talk without permission, cannot eat without permission, cannot even relieve myself without their permission!! My prideful nature is going crazy! I am a Thorn! Not an ornament for another's name! As soon as I get the chance I will murder everyone here. That is my vow, my oath, this vendetta shall be settled in my death or theirs. The chance will come, I must be patient and bide my time till the moment arises then I'll become the sharp blade that streaks across their necks.

Three days ago we arrived at our destination called Wolvern. This place reeks of wolf carcasses and even our small trek through the town to the trading center I spotted at least a dozen or so wolf pelts left out to dry. There was a slew of buff men in varying armors with all kinds of odd looking weapons. One man even carried a harpoon. Are they still hunting wolves? Anyways this town feels like if someone doesn't include the word 'wolf' in their daily life they'll be publicly executed.

Recently, during our stay in the town, I have had doubts on my plans for escape. The reason being is that the sorcerer has been keeping more tabs on me than a man who believes his wife is cheating. I have no breathing room, how can I even act if an existence like that is constantly breathing down my neck. In my frustration I hit a wall of my cell. It hurt.

Five days have passed since we have arrived at this village. I was shown at an auction and I saw many looks that wandered in my direction. I guess that our race might have better looks than normal humans, but seriously I'm a guy and they're guys as well. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought. Luckily no one could even pay for my starting price. Hallelujah for the bastards being cheapskates. I never thought I'd thank them for something. There has been a rumor spreading around that an elite group of wolf hunters has gone missing lately. Other than that nothing worth mentioning, unless you consider an overbearing sorcerer in that. I wish that monster would come and just destroy the town.

It was the night of the eighth day I awoke to sounds of explosions and yelling. I quickly jumped to my feet and rushed to look out the bars. The once pitch black night sky was an ominous blood red color that looked to be moving in a circular manner. My enclosure was a small hole in the ground with a grate attached over the hole. Standard stuff for slaves. I stuck my head out of the biggest hole in the grate and saw pandemonium. The whole village was set ablaze there were weird purple wolves that ran around and chased the men. The purple wolves all had red eyes and after watching for awhile I learned that they were impervious to physical attacks. A sword was swung so impressively that it split the air and traveled at a speed eyes would have trouble to follow however the blade effortlessly passed through the body of the wolf, and then the wolf would bite onto their necks either puncturing their jugulars or snapping it completely. The scariest thing was that these immortal wolves came in packs of ten or twenty at a time and swarmed the helpless men.

As I was wondering if some of the faster men would get away, I realized the blood red sky surrounded the the small village and anyone who came into contact with it would be shredded into oblivion. Then the wolves started to come in the direction of the trading center, and the screams of my tormentors beautifully played out. Listening to that melody I sat down and started laughing maniacally.

Serves them right! I have no idea what being they disturbed or what hornet's nest they kicked, but thank you. Ah I'll probably be dying with them soon. The screams suddenly stopped along with my laughter. What's going on? There was no longer any noise as if the whole thing was a dream. No!!! Don't be a dream! I got up with a speed that would impress anyone and thrusted my head through the nearest gap in the grate. What I saw shocked me. The men who I despised with every cell of my being were still alive. However they all appeared to be on the ground wounded or unconscious. The purple wolves surrounded them gnashing their teeth every now in then as if to assert their dominance. The sorcerer stood near my cell with a bronze spear in one hand and a handful of papers with the same rune drawn on each in the other. He gazed at the purple wolves with a hint of surprise and fear, but he didn't move a muscle. Then he appeared, a boy who looked no older than 8 he wore a snow white gown that had a dark red trimming and was secured onto his body with a thick red sash. His eyes were as red as blood and his grayish white hair cascaded down past his shoulders and stopped around his lower back. He had pure white skin that matched well with his gown both were unblemished and without imperfections. His face had a warming smile that could probably stop a child from crying and melt even the coldest of ice. He was like a god who descended from heaven to save these people from this hell. The ever so real purple wolves disappeared without a trace as if they never even came. The only thing that reminded people of them was the injuries of the men on the ground.

"Who, what are you?" A man on the ground asked in a nervous voice. The reverence in his voice seemed as if he was looking at a saint envoy of the gods.

"Your ending." The boy gave a brief answer, his smile still stained onto his face, but it now was beginning to twist into a more sinister symbol in the minds of everyone.

"Thros!" The first to act was the sorcerer as he used a shortened chant and a symbol on the ground a few feet from the boy started shinning. The next moment the sorcerer appeared over the rune and quickly tossed his stack of papers at the boy. The boy stood there lazily watching the sorcerer's actions as if it was a great play.

"Thros!" Annoyed by the boy he chanted once again and disappeared and reappeared on the boy's right side. Thrusting his spear into the boy's side without hesitation he held a look of complete confidence as if the end was already in sight. The next moment surprised everyone as the boy, instead of being impaled, calmly stood on the blade and spear shaft seemingly weightless. The sorcerer quickly jumped back extremely startled by the boy's agility.

"Are you done with your struggle, worm?" The boy's pleasant voice meandered it's way into everyone's ears saying that he was just playing around up till this point. Furious, the sorcerer chanted a slew of words and phrases and his body started to flash in the spaces around the boy thrusting out his spear every so often. Not even showing the slightest surprise, the boy calmly swayed his upper body and casually dodged the incoming spears.

Suddenly the boy gave a sigh and tens of white spears grew out of his gown and pierced out into the area surrounding him. As if not satisfied by the process the boy gave a small wave of his hand and the tens of spears started to branch out rapidly making it look like a tree was growing at a breakneck speed. There was a scream of pain and all the spears suddenly shifted towards the noise bombarding the area in a white forrest. Pleased by his own actions the boy started walking my way and the tens of branched out spears retracted back to the gown revealing the body of the sorcerer who now resembled swiss cheese.

Stopping in front of my grate the boy gazed down at my head that I am ashamed to say is stuck in the gap. Returning his gaze he gave a light laugh.

"Why were you laughing earlier?" Oddly the boy's smiling face disappeared and it was replaced by another that seemed to be troubled by something.

"They do not deserve my pity, I laughed because I only have hatred for them." I spoke my heart, I don't know if I overstepped my bounds, but for some reason I didn't want to lie to this boy.

"Fair enough, freedom is sweet no?"

"Excuse me?" The boy's question caught be off guard and I had no idea how to answer.

"Get freedom with your own hands." At that the boy pressed down on the grate and shattered it. Then a white spear extended slowly from his gown and he handed it to me.

Overwhelmed with emotions I grasped tightly onto the spear thinking if I let go I would lose this moment forever. I turned towards the men who beat me, tortured me, laughed at my pain, and tried to take away my pride. Tears welled up in my eyes and in a small voice I answered the question from earlier,"Yea, freedom is sweet."

I stepped towards the men on the ground. I am a Thorn. I was once a slave, but now I am free in every sense of the word.