“It must be around here” I mumble nervously to myself while looking for the damn horse that should be somewhere close. Everything that I could buy for my escape with the little information I’ve put my hands on as a “son” of the raining skies family, a better name for slave if you ask. They give us, people of no birth a “home” as “sons and daughters” of their glorious household but in the end we are nothing but livestock to them, living to serve their disgusting needs.

But no more.

Sold some information to a rival family, a few relevant dates and names, how the security shifts work, maps and such. Nothing much, the crucial things will never get on our ears, and even so, it took a whole year of work to get this deal. A year of lurking in the shadows and a lot of heinous favors for only a single horse and a few days of food and clothes, what brings me back to the start. Where is the damn horse?

Time pass fast and I’m nowhere closer to find it than I was half hour a go... should I try my luck and escape by foot? I ponder nervously while cursing the other party, it's quite the walk but in two or so days I should be able to get far enough to steal something, not the best but better than keep... ...losing more time I finish, knowing too well that my escaping plan has already been cut down.

With my eyes momentarily closed by regret I turn to greet the sole reason of it, both the regret and the failure, and see myself facing the sixth son of the raining skies that came all the way here for the Four knows why and now stops a few meters far from me with a rotten smile on his face.

“Hello brother, what are you doing here, so far from home, are you lost perhaps??” The odious voice cuts through the wind, the words carrying an almost tangible scorn that I receive easily, scorn being the last of my worries. Better focus on why is he here, and how can I make him leave.

I put my best fake smile even if my body screams me to leave, to run and hide, as I know pretty well that doing so would bring me nothing but an early death or worse in pain.

“Little lord, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, I’m just doing some shores that the esteemed master charged me, no need to waste your time with this one" - I speak, trying my best to show confidence but failing miserably at it, my voice cracking and coming in a shameful high pitch.

A smooth start, maybe next I should just explain my entire plan and behead myself to save them the work - I think to myself at the same time that he starts grinning at me, the kind of grin that people do before whipping you and the one that says that they will actually enjoy doing it, forcing me to realize that there is no time to self-blaming or sarcasm.

Cursing internally for being so slow I also realize that there is only one possible reason to someone like him be this far from the city, and with my hands shaking In fear I try move back slowly, doing what I can to get some distance between us while also praying for him to go away or to instant combuste in a ball of fire, any of them fine by me.

Any of them, please.

Not that I have that much of time to actually pray with each of his steps bringing us closer and the air colder, one of the signals of a water user. The water in the air rushing at him, moving at his command like a docile sheep and soaking my clothes, thankfully he can't really control it like the elders or I would be dead in the instant that I got wet.

No more than two meters far he stops and I stare at his eyes, the only emotions reflected in them being disdain.

“Little lord?” I ask, not knowing what else to do but to still cling to some kind of hope, just to receive a smirk as answer.

I force myself to calm down, saying words of reassurance to myself as my breath and heart refuse to slow down. I knew the risks, people tried before and they failed before, they died sure but at least they did by their own will, so I wait, savoring the few moments of freedom soon to be paid with my life in a trance like state.

"It's funny how stupid you rats can be, selling information to someone? You think yourself smart don't you? You stupid rat, that's just the way we make ungrateful treacherous shits like you to put your heads out of the shadows so we can crush them, and they fall for it every single time ha ha.

But it won't so be so easy, no, we'll make you suffer hell and more before killing you. I'll bring you back and you'll be tortured in the dinning area to everyone see, then they'll know how foolish is to go against our orders. Aren't you happy? In the end you'll die being of use to us what is the best non practitioners like you can ever dream to accomplish"

The words fall upon me but the fear they cause seems far, almost as a sound that can be heard but is easily ignored. Like if sunken in a cold river I feel myself far, more like watching things than doing things I could just let myself go, but no, filling me there is anger, anger caused by their arrogance, their disdain and their so said superiority and it overwhelms me.

The fury is fulled by years of suffering and it burns me like a raging fire causing no small amount of pain, it white my thoughts clear and my fingers crack in a fist, leaving me with nothing but a calm mind and cold rage.

"I knew the risks from the start" I say, words crawling out of my dried mouth with venomous hate.

We all knew and I'm happy that I'm the one here, I'm also sorry that I could not free you from your burdens my people, but let me bear at least this one more - I contemplate to myself while getting in the best fighting stance that I can, taking out my favorite kitchen knife and praying to hidden powers to burst alive transforming me in a born to be killing machine, or to the instant combustion plan just in case the Four need some getaway.

"I'm not going back and I'll not die a slave" - I say and my voice once more cracks in a higher tone that I would like but the resolution in the words is clear, I'm not going back, not without fighting and not to be a slave anymore.

“You want to fight me? AHAHAHAHAHAHA... you want to fight me, a second level water practitioner? I was planning to give you just a beaten, to not stain my hands with a low blood trash like you, but I changed my mind. One less or one more, who cares anyway"

He says, eyes turning colder as he realize that I'm serious and the laughs die, a joke that is no more funny and started being a nuisance, that's what I'm to him.

I grit my teeth at the last part, fury tempting to burn me once more as so many faces blurry my vision, faces of true family, one truly worth dying for and yet seen like disposables tools or worse by them.

In the middle of my distraction a wave of essence burst from him, invisible at the eyes of a non practitioner it crashes against me in a small bump that causes no damage but the sudden and unexpected force throws me out of balance and I fall on my back.

He just starts laughing once more, insults flying from his mouth as he gloat in my weakness, happy to toy with my life before taking it I suppose. Tired from years of the same abuse I block my ears, nothing will be gained by hearing, and not will be by dying I remind myself. I need to come with some kind of plan, even if I'm okay about dying doesn't mean that I will not fight to live.

He's looking down on me for a good reason but even so, ins't he looking me down too much? Arrogance should have a limit, he is just there, more than a thousand meters far from the city, no guards seen, not even a weapon in his hands. It shames me to be seen soo low and it hurts more to know that it is probably nothing but truth.

Although water doesn’t look that dangerous, even a single drop with enough speed can be lethal, especially if we are talking about a normal body like mine, to speak true he can just break my neck with his bare hands so why would he make the effort to carry a weapon?

A shiver runs through me and I choose to believe that it's because the cold and watery air and not because the previous thought, and above all not because he finally stopped talking and started taking steps in my direction.

My eyes catch a throwing motion done by my “brother” and one instant later I'm on my knees before even understanding what happened, half dodging and half kneeling as the little things cut through my hair, close and fast enough to cold sweet drench my already wet clothes.

No more than droplets but as dangerous as an arrow at this distance, the water missed me by little and I see myself saved by his arrogance and bad personality as no other attacks come to claim my life.

“One attack and you will start the begging already, what a shame to the family” - he laughs at me showing his satisfied face, the rotten smile making his face uglier, a feat I was not sure possible.

Desperately, I heck my brain for something, it has to be some way out, it always do and I refuse to believe otherwise, but I need time to find it.

“Yes lord, please have mercy of this low one” I got on fours while listening to his arrogant laughs, head against my hands, bowing. Not the most honored of the actions but what is the use of honor when you are a dead body?

“I don’t know, what was it? "I'm not going back"? I think it's better to just jump the torture part and kill you now, you know pretty well that my sister doesn't like the screams and hanging your body in the walls would serve as example just as fine.

It's not like the elders really care right?"

With his words doubt breaks in and fear makes me involuntary stop as I'm once again dominated by it, apparently not as fine with death as I thought myself. The previous anger generated confidence leaves me and my throat dry even further, my eyes losing focus for a second, only to be reassured by his next words,

“Why did you stop, won’t you make me change my mind? I may give it a second though if you are a good boy” he says, giving a long look to his own feet, insinuating what wants me to do. As if I were an animal, toying with my life and pride before killing me, but his words make a gust of relief pass through my body nonetheless.

Not that I believe in his words for even a second.The relief, like a bath of cold water sobers me as I get something close to a idea done.

Punching or fighting head on would be like hitting a human shaped stone sure, but after years of being beaten I’ve learned that the human body is weak in a lot of parts, that’s something you want to learn fast, especially if you desire to keep living. And better, he just presented me with a way to get close enough to actually hit something like that.

"Y-yes, than- thank you for the mercy oh, sixth master." It's no hard to fake it, fear and hope are feelings that I'm truly feeling but for different reasons. Soon the small distance of less than two meters is closed and I take his extended feet in my hands, slowly.

A small pray to the Four and my muscles tense up, I jump in motion, my right hand extended as I aim to his jaw as my left pull his feet while both getting him out of balance and speeding me up.

A small voice of surprise escape his mouth as he rush for a instinctive block, but it's done too late and from out of position, my arm finds his chin with solid impact and his voice transform itself in a long inhuman scream.

His mouth is dripping blood like a fountain but I give myself no time to appreciate my work and start kicking his crotch as hard as I can, not stopping until he’s lying on the ground in a mess of both blood and other fluids. Why don't you laugh now?

"I would wait for a good bye, but I think it'll take some time until you can actually form words again, worry not, we are both brothers and need no formalities, so to speak"

I laugh while his babbling curses and screams fill the air, head light with the rush of fear and adrenaline as I once again run for my life leaving my so said brother with a few more words of taunting, time is precious but I can't hardly contain myself this time.

Sure, after a few minutes my blood cools down and fear and relief fight to assume me, one side happy for what I did and the other fearful of the repercussion. The fight seems to end in a draw as a creepy laugh breaks out my mouth and I dash towards Briddell, my fresh start, light and free.

Before running away I got my hands in every scroll about cultivating that I could, years of effort to get those pieces of papers, easily find in every room of my “brothers” but denied to us.

Not that took me years to get it, stealing would be easy, a matter of minutes in fact but stealing the scrolls means months of beating to everyone and death to the culprit.

I could not just run away with it and let my people suffer so transcribing was needed, saving small bits of information at time and then carving the texts in wood. An ungrateful job but after a few years of it I got my hands in almost everything that i need.

I've also left a few sets hidden with the ones that stayed even if that makes me no less bitter that they will have to deal with the mess of my escape. But nothing could be done, Briddell is too dangerous and failing escaping would be even worse than the beasts.

witch is why I'm heading there, not the first shot if you’re looking for a runaway slave as going there makes actually no sense, just level 2 practitioners or high would try their luck in Brideell and even them would be prey to some of the beasts that hunt there so who in their right mind would search for me there?