Ch 15

Summer nights when cool winds should be a blessing was sending chills through people who witnessed the horrifying scene of a child screaming on top of his lungs to let him free. He never wished or desired anything great or coveted others belonging. He merely wanted an ordinary life, a secure life in the arms of those who loved him. He couldn't recall the image of his father or his mother. He only heard a voice calling out to him in anguish and pain " Nian'er" and another voice soothing him lovingly. Coaxing him.

"Nian'er"

Sister!

Sisterrrr!

...

The child struggled with all his might, pulling onto the hair of his abuser. He got slapped twice, thrice. He bit the hand so hard, almost pulling the meat out of it. The next thing he knew was a loud ringing that remained before he closed his eyes. Death! He wished for it at days like these when the violence got worse. At first, it was the joints, then his fingers. What did they want? Why are they going this far? What did he do? Questions filled him with silence and abuses as his answer. He stopped talking at one point. He could feel the pain. It stung. It ached the body. He couldn't feel anything for days on end. The chamber was dark. The guards couldn't decide if he assimilated so well in it or stood out like a sore thumb. Eyes darting out straight, almost looking down on them. They hated his guts. It's more so his unrelenting nature. He was called there as a fellow soldier but was exploited as a scapegoat for Yamen Chiefs' failure to quell the unrest in the slums. A perfect scapegoat as his bravado before a noble from the capital had garnered some vicious attention from the Chi family's part. It was the day when the Yamen Chief had personal dealings with the Chi family head's misstress. The misstress took a liking towards him. He was asked to attend to her in the night, which he refused. Then came the havoc. The misstress forced him into submission only for her to get head bashed so hard that she fainted. He was put into prison since then. He was the toy of the prison. A broken toy! A year he was in their breathing, surviving somehow. The only warmth he felt was from the blood that flowed out of the wounds, the tears and the hot rod that sizzled his skin now and then. The Yamen Chief took advantage of him, seeing him lying coldly on the floor by declaring him the cause of unrest in the slum. He made out quite a bizarre story. Why did the people believe him? Didn't they see any loopholes in the story? His age ... how could he at that age? With no one there to back him up. A slum boy!

His hair was short when he registered as a soldier. Now, it slid through his face past the shoulder blades poking out menacingly. He was malnourished. He stopped responding at a certain point. No screams came out his eyes were dead. He had relented. Was it no longer fun to abuse him? He was taken out thrashed by the yamen runners. At last, he saw a familiar figure screaming for him to be returned. He had a place. He was back.

Sister! He closed his eyes, for he now was warm.

________________________________________

The hooves of the horses beat the ground hard with each passing step, but traces were erased. The lantern flickered as it lit the path ahead of the carriage. Wang was riding the carriage he felt like a warhead. He was amazed by the two war horses before him. They were massive, almost twice the size of him. He wondered how the lady got hold of these precious gems. They were robust but docile, almost cute. He couldn't distinguish between the male and the female one. He looked at their ears and their tempers and started making assumptions, but couldn't come to a final conclusion. He wanted to name them badly and wondered if the young master would take offense if he named them.

" The one in the right is Ari, and the one in the left is Ani. Let it be our secret, " he giggled. He couldn't tell apart most of the surroundings. It was as if the horses knew where to go. He was simply a decoration there. He wanted to get inside the carriage, but it would seem strange for the carriage to be driven solely by horses. He knew his master was directing the path, but he didn't want to disturb him. It had been a week since they started their journey, and the young master was in deep meditation. Sometimes, the pressure that came from inside the carriage was too intense. The horses neighed almost went out of control. Wang handled the situation then and calmed them down they had grown attached at this point to each other. They stopped at intervals to take a rest and freshen up. They ate their fill. But the young master never came out. There was the incident with slave traders, too. They encountered them in the outskirts of Fenan. He wanted to take care of them, but his sister told him to keep watch out for the young master even though he has strong internal arts, he was bound to his wheelchair. He was itching to beat the slave traders to pulp. But his sister and her husband took care of it. He had admired his sister for a long while. Wang knew he couldn't meddle in this as she had always wanted to take revenge on them once she learned martial arts. He didn't know the opportunity would walk towards them on its own. She best them up black and blue. Min didn't let go of the opportunity and killed the last one of them. He wondered since when killing never affected them. Was it the hatred? Was the desire for revenge so strong? That getting their hands bloody didn't matter to them. Before he could drown in these thoughts, the pressure from the carriage increased, putting him on chokehold. Once he was released, he started laughing hysterically. The fights continued for days as the word among the slave traders spread many came for revenge for their companions and failed miserably. His sister had declared that she would be the embodiment of their demise.