The Road to Arkosia (Ch 2 - Part 1)

It was dawn when the ship of Vermon, son of Uthus, finally set sail out of Lipin for the Empire of Arkosia.

Aboard was Vermon, his crew, and Orb, his new slave, brought in from the Eastern Kingdom of Empamalangon.

After hours of sailing, Vermon left his private cabin and went below the decks to check on his horse and his new slave.

He saw Orb sleeping with his back leaning against the wall, his left hand covered with a white handkerchief.

Vermon raised one eyebrow in displeasure when he recognized it, as it was nothing but his own white silk handkerchief.

Orb must have taken it from his bag without permission, which had been forgotten on the back of his horse.

How dare he steal my white handkerchief from the bag? Vermon felt disgusted as he stared at the blood-stained handkerchief.

He observed Orb’s short, rough breathing. The constant coughs were cutting through the peace of his sleep and the wheezing coming out of the sick lungs worried him a little.

Using the lamp’s light in the middle of the compartment, Vermon examined the features of the young man sleeping before him.

Despite his emaciation and pallor, he had beautiful and harmonious features: small lips, a dimple in the chin that suggested a benevolent nature, and wavy brown hair that touched his shoulders.

Orb’s feet were sore and bloody after the torment of dragging him all those long distances the previous night.

Vermon, feeling a sudden urge to speak to him, kicked him in the side. Orb, whose eyes were dull with weariness, woke up in pain, wet his chapped lips, and said nothing.

“Aren’t you a drug expert?”

“What?”

Orb asked that question in genuine confusion, as his focus was not at his best.

“Yesterday, you complained about the medicine I gave you. You mentioned that it contained a poisonous herb whose name I forgot, and I understood that it does not suit you,” Vermon grumbled, “You spoke from knowledge and experience, so give me the right combination.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Orb said indifferently as he tilted his head back in fatigue. He just remembered that he was in the presence of a cold-blooded monster who enslaved and abducted him. That terrible reality made him reluctant to cooperate.

“You can’t fool me. If you’re an herbalist, as you say you are, give it to me,” Vermon blustered in apparent frustration.

“Herbalist? I don’t remember saying that,” Orb released a cough and then added, “I just read about the proper combination somewhere, that’s all,” he released another cough, “Why do you want it?”

“Give it to me!”

“I don’t understand. If you are trying to help me,” he coughed, “why so brutal? What are you? A beast?”

* * *

When Orb uttered his last angry word, Vermon kicked his side for the second time and the hurt forced a loud gasp out of him.

Orb retaliated by kicking Vermon’s leg, causing him to drop to one knee.

He was resentful enough to resist Vermon’s repeated assaults on him, and he never hesitated to hit him back.

Therefore, the two traded blows as they rolled on the ground until Vermon got the upper hand and threw a knee strike into Orb’s stomach, prompting him to writhe in pain on the ground while irritably suppressing his moan.

Vermon then stood up, grabbed him by the collar of his dirty clothes, dragged him through the ship’s narrow corridors to the sunlit side of the deck, and lifted him to his eye level.

Vermon’s face darkened, and after a moment of silence, he seethed, “What? Blind? You are blind! Who poked your eyes?”

As Orb’s emaciated hands held Vermon’s strong arm, which kept him hanging in the air, Vermon continued in outright disgust. “What a waste! You’re blind! If I had known, I wouldn’t have made you, my slave! What’s the purpose of keeping you?” he threw Orb to the ground.

Standing over him, Vermon lashed out at Orb. “Is it not enough for you to be gaunt, sick, and bad-tempered? Why so ugly and blind? I should feed you to the sea monsters—I regret saving you. Damn it!”

“Are you cursing me for my own blindness or yours?” Orb interjected bitterly.

“SHUT UP!” Vermon snapped.

Vermon paused for a moment before saying, “As for the drug combination—forget it, I had seriously considered asking the Imperial Physician on board to make a medicine for you, but you don’t deserve my kindness. You don’t deserve to be alive.”

As he turned to leave, Orb refused to stay silent.

“You are not to decide my worth!” he rasped in defiance, “You are not to decide my fate! Who do you think you are?” He finished with a cough.

At a remarkable speed, Vermon grabbed the lightweight Orb by his clothes and threw him over the side of the ship into the sea without much effort on his part.

With no time to react, Orb, in apparent panic, struggled the moment he fell into the water.

Vermon stood watching him unmoved while Orb moved his arms up and down rapidly and kicked his legs back and forth uncontrollably.

“I am the glorious knight of the Arkosian Empire, Vermon, son of Uthus the Great!” With great ferocity and pride, he declared. “And I can do to you what I wish! I am the one who decides your worth! I am the one who decides if you live or die!”

Orb struggled to keep afloat on the surface of the water. Still, because of the sudden attack, his fatigue, and his fear of water and any form of suffocation, his weary limbs succumbed to the force of the water, and his head sank lower and lower.

How could my life end like this? I believed I planned my life as I wanted and that no one would rival me in strength, intelligence, and control over fate.

What? Was I too arrogant?

Was it karma?

I’m no longer sure, but that Arkosian beast had ruined everything, upset my life balance, and scattered my beliefs.

Orb involuntarily took a breath and swallowed large amounts of water. At that moment, under the water, he was certain of his inevitable death and soon lost consciousness.

* * *

Orb opened his eyes again. It was hard to see with the blurry vision of his left eye and harder with his hair strewn over it.

Yet, he could tell that it was daylight, and the black silhouettes were of men standing over his head. He was drenched and trembling on the warm deck of the ship.

I’m —still alive.

Orb tried to listen to what they were saying, but he failed no matter how hard he tried. He was tired, scared, and sad.

“Who? Who saved me?” he murmured with a heavy tongue.

Then, he dozed off for a few seconds, but that doze was interrupted by his constant cough. His body was burning with fever again, and his nose was bleeding.

Yet, no one was there to comfort him or to stop the bleeding. The only thing he could barely feel was the comfort of the sunlight, touching his skinny temple like a tender hand for which he had yearned for years.

Orb tried to open his eyes and managed to see a thin line of light for a moment with only one eye. He wished he could see the world bathed in the sunlight with both eyes again, but that was impossible.

His eyelids, heavy with fatigue, closed again.

* * *