There was a flat field of grass with the wind breezing it, each blade of grass flowing in the direction of the wind, some even flew like leaves away from the ground, the smell of dirt and grass was heavy covering most of the atmosphere. The sound of nature can be clearly heard by those nearby, the song sung by the birds, the sound of the nearby river, flowing and flowing, and leaves being rummaged by the inhabitants of the forest behind the field of grass.
There lies a boy who doesn't know himself nor does he remember who he once was. When the boy woke up, the first thing he felt was the warmth of the sun, the heat of the sun heating up every fiber of his body, each strand of hair. He then opened his eyes only to close it again due to the brightness of the sun, he opened his eyes again. This time extremely slowly as to get accustomed to the light, his sight blurry, the view was like a bunch of colors merged together. Then his vision became clear.
He pauses for a moment to admire the view which he now sees. The beauty of the world. The white fluffy clouds, the blue blue skies and the field of grass which seems unending, spanning beyond the horizons. It was beautiful. It was peaceful. It was liberating.
He then tried to stand.
He tried again.
He succeeded doing so with only his eyes focused on the view trying to ingrain it into his mind.
He then look behind him. He saw a forest with a visible river stream flowing to somewhere, he can't tell. He let in a deep breathe and stretched both his arms, only then to realize that he couldn't even lift his arms up. He looked down, finally noticing the humps of irons and chains cuffing both his wrist and legs, allowing for only for the minimal of movements. Actions such as running and stretching or even fighting won't work due to the sheer weight of the irons and the limited movement allowed because of the chains. The radius of the iron is roughly 2.5 inches, with the circumference of 40 and the chains 50 centimeters in length
He tried to walk. Which he did though almost falling, but it was painful, hard on the joints. Each steps that he took used up all the strength he had. Yet he persevered, he walked up the grass field towards the forest until he heard a voice coming west. He turn his head towards the voice. He saw a Big Black Man carrying a log on his shoulder coming towards him. An absolutely hunk of a man, and can be best described as a grizzly bear.
"lloeh, ngouy nma, meco kacb ot het blesat,ew tog kwor ot do!" shouted the Man.
The boy looks at him confused, clueless as to what the man is talking about. The Man looked at him and immediately got the idea and started to use his hands to signal him to go back to the field behind him. As he points towards a giant field of soiled dirt and stables with the inhabitants too with their arms and legs bound by the chains and irons. In the boy's peripheral vision, he saw muscular men come out of the forest with them carrying logs and an axe, too with the same irons and chains bounding them from making any big movement.
The sight intrigued the boy so he looked towards it, still slightly focusing on the black man in front of him. Then he saw a man on a horse, however this time the man wasn't bound by any irons nor chains. Instead the man was dressed nicely, with a rapier beside his hips and with looks of a man of high statuses. Of course, the boy was clueless but curious. The Black Man takes one look at the boy's face and drops the log he was carrying. Then he pointed at the man on the horse and he widened the space between his hands, seemingly as if to tell the boy that the man was a man of a high status. An Aristocrat.
The Aristocrat points at the field and seems to be shouting at the muscular men. But It was very far away so the boy couldn't really hear nor understand what he was saying. The Black Man just then realized that the Aristocrat was back and quickly held onto the boy's hands forcefully and dragged him back to the field. At the field, there were others like them, ragged clothes, malnourished, both arms and legs chained by irons and their looks: unwilling, desperate and depressed. Some have scars on their legs, arms or even their entire body, scars caused by whippings or other punishment thought by the cruel imagination of the humans.
While the two of them were walking, sounds of screaming and whips can be heard. As they continued walking, the screamings only grew louder and louder, then the boy saw something completely opposite than the beauty and peace which he had seen earlier. The sheer cruelty that the human species possessed. He saw blood spattered all over the ground, over the grass and right above is a man screaming in pain.
The sound of the whip continues as each end of the whip strikes the man. 1. 2.. 3... 4... the whipping continued until the man fell onto the ground unconscious. The man was... just laying there, with blood flowing out of his unrecognizable back, the whipping deformed back. The boy looks at him and then finally he looks at the man doing the whipping. "Whipper". A name that The Boy thought of. It is very creative
He stared at "Whipper'''s face. Whipper was smiling. SMILING while having blood all over his face. It didn't frighten the boy. No. He was shocked but it wasn't scary. Not to him at least.
As for The Black Man beside him, he has grown numb to it.
When "Whipper" left to return to his estate, so did the two of them. The Black Man brought the boy to a stable where he and the others slept and lived in and then pointed to himself.
"Berg?" The boy replied
"Berg." Berg replied.
The Black Man is called Berg.
The area in which the fields and the stables are located is called Freiheit. Meaning Freedom. It is named this way because of the irony which the name holds between the inhabitants. In a way, it can also be seen as motivation for all the men living in the area, to maybe one day achieve freedom. That they can finally be free of the endless suffering which have been unfortunately incurred upon them because of fate or simply their races.
Berg looked at the boy and then pointed at the tools in the corner, then he points at the field outside.
“Kwor.” Said Berg, while imitating tiling dirt with a hoe.
The boy understood it immediately.
It’s night time. After hours of tiling soil and lifting up and down the hoe, along with the weight of the iron too. The work was hard and tiresome, lifting the hoe while already hard enough for the young boy, the weight didn’t make it any easier, with each swing getting less and less powerful and eventually he got too tired to even move, but the “Whipper” was watching, he knew he couldn’t rest not even for a moment.
Though because of the inexperienced the boy has, the tiling of the soil is rather inconsistent and chaotic due to the lack of instruction and assistance. But the “Whipper” didn’t care. Nobody did.
When he returned to the stables, he felt that he understood the nature of this world a little bit more. Still in the deeper part of himself, he knew that he isn’t from this world, at least not physically. That night he slept soundly. No dreams.