Raw Soles

The announcement struck the world hard. 

"Have YOU ever wanted to traverse space?!"

"Explore an unexplored treasure trove?!" 

"Walk where no man has walked before?!" 

"This is your moment! Become an adventurer today! For more information please call 818-***-****." 

After the United Nations made the announcement, publicizing Gate One and its insides to the world, the media ignited. 

Like a forest fire, the embers started small. Businesses and tycoons alike invested like crazy, hoping and praying they had enough capital to reserve a seat into the Gate. 

But shortly after, the people interested expanded. Animes and novels, television series and movies — anything and everything that had to do with monster hunting and adventuring became immensely popular. 

Kids played in the street, arms stretched wide; they imagined themselves flying through the air toppling bad guys and plummeting through the sea to save damsels in distress. 

Overnight, the world's eyes shifted onto the Gate. 

It became a phenomenon unlike any other in Earth's history and once the business moguls realized this, they began selling their reserved seats instead. 

"Just this morning a ticket into the Gate, officially recognized as Gate One, was sold for twelve million dollars…" 

"All flights headed into Greenland for the next two years are fully booked. According to their representative, Greenland is actively working towards facilitating more flights and building more infrastructure for the many travelers arriving in the northern country for the very first time…" 

"Local legend and famous online streamer Tyler Acton, also known as Jerky, has just announced that he and his team have secured two tickets into the Gate for this upcoming event and he has confirmed: he will be streaming it live!" 

News stations, blogs, journalists, magazines, everyone was talking about the Gate and as the hype grew so too did the world's unrest. 

"Riots have been growing more fierce in Brazil! The President claims it's due to an Awakened? Let's take a look." 

"Our country can't even feed its own people and now our taxes are going to Greenland for some resort?!!" 

As more reports were released and more opinions circulated about the rules and regulations, the truth behind the Gate started to blur. 

For those privileged enough to taste its nectar, the Gate was praised as a godsend; but for the lamen of the Earth, the hungry and the sick — the Gate became a monument representative of the one percent. 

It became a source of envy for all. 

More so than being summoned, more so than gaining power and privilege from the Gate — the Gate itself was turned into something more than it was. 

Luckily, Cain paid little attention to politics. He was already in Greenland so the two year waitlist to enter the country didn't affect him. Not only that, but he had property lined up and under construction. 

In fact, that's exactly where he went next. 

"Jesus Christ…" Church said in awe. 

Him and Cain stood in the snow. In front of them, a snow covered mountain split the sky. 

And around them, men and women worked together to lay the foundation for Cain's eventual mountain home. They had already cleared out the mud and brush in front of the mountain and now they were installing the helicopter platform. 

Beyond them, miners further expanded the tunnels of the mineshaft. They heightened the ceilings and straightened the walls. 

Meanwhile, cranes off-loaded the build up. They picked up the cobblestone the miners were extracting and moved it into massive trucks that spun around like cement mixers. 

They were tumbling the stone. Smoothing it and breaking it into smaller pieces for more decorative work. They also planned on mixing the freshly mined stone with the cement as a way to save on costs. 

"This is all yours?" Church asked. 

Cain nodded his head. He was just as flabbergasted as Church was, although he hid it behind his poker face. 

Cain couldn't believe how quickly the builders progressed. If he didn't know any better, he would claim it was magic, but… 

|Spirit Eyes| 

Cain could see the flow of mana. He knew better than most that nothing magical was happening. 

And yet, it was absolutely breathtaking: the ingenuity of man without magic. 

*** 

Olive opened her eyes to morning dew. 

She saw the sun streak through the trees and a butterfly laze around the forest. 

Almost delirious, she looked around. 

Four Orc's were stationed with her, one on each side.

They were ordered not to touch Olive, but the Orc's were not so easily compliant. 

First, they tugged her hair. Olive thought that maybe the Orc's were trying to see if it was fake. Her hair is distinctively red and from what Olive has gathered — red is probably their color of royalty. 

Once they were done with her hair, however, the Orcs moved onto more precarious parts of her. 

Her feet, that were now swollen and plump, blue from the lack of blood and twisted into something inhumane, were the Orc's next target. 

They played with her ankles, weirdly enough. For a long time the Orcs simply rotated her feet around as if testing her flexibility. 

At first, it wasn't all that horrible. 

Then, the Orcs pushed it a little too far. They twisted Olive's ankles until they popped and even after they popped, the Orcs then twisted them until they cracked. 

Once her ankles were finally disjointed and rocking back and forth like a pendulum; then the Orcs really had their fun. 

Unfortunately, the fun quickly came to an end as a Princess had arrived. 

Olive, meanwhile, could easily tell she was coming. What else could make the Orcs stop? 

So Olive forced her eyes open and glared at the red Orc who was approaching her. She felt nothing but contempt when looking at her. 

It was a feeling Olive was growing numb to. 

The red Orc grabbed Olive's cheeks and pulled her closer. 

"You really do look mad!" The red Orc smiled. 

"What fun should we have today? Would you like to be branded again?" The red Orc got close and personal with Olive. 

She leaned into her cheek and whispered in her ear, a devilish smile coating her face as she did so. 

"Or I know…" the red Orc walked her fingers up Olive's torso. She arrived at Olive's fingers and took hold of her hand. 

"Maybe this?" The red Orc asked with puppy eyes. 

*crack* 

She snapped one of Olive's fingers backwards.  

But due to the ropes binding her, Olive lost all sensation in her hands long ago. Instead, Olive called forth the last drops of liquid in her gums and spit it in the red Orc's face. 

"Hehe…" Olive chucked at her own antics. 

The moment Olive's spit hit the red Orc however, the black Orcs couldn't sit still. 

Within moments they clenched their fists and ran at Olive, ready to clobber her into smithereens. 

"Halt!" The red Orc wiped the spit from her face. 

She glared at Olive in return. 

"Burn her." 

The red Orc didn't spare Olive a second glance. Instead, she turned around and left. 

Thereafter, the four Orc's around Olive rubbed their hands together in glee. 

They foraged around the area and collected sticks and twigs to burn. One of them returned to camp to grab larger cuts of wood while another gathered herbs and spices for seasoning. 

All-together the Orcs built a tipi of wood beneath Olive. Then, they grabbed a dry leaf and some loose twigs and began spinning a stick wildly back and forth. 

The friction turned to smoke which turned to embers. 

The embers spread until a fire was born. 

The flames started small, but they quickly traveled up the pieces of wood and further caught flame. 

Olive was high off the ground, however. 

The flames had yet to reach her. 

The heat, on the other hand, and the smoke, Olive was beginning to feel those demons. 

The smoke invaded her lungs. It was viscous and sticky. The more she breathed in the more difficult it became to take a breath. 

Then, the fire roared. 

Flames danced along the undersides of her feet, surprisingly bringing color back to near lifeless limbs. 

The bottoms of her feet quickly turned black from the carbon in the smoke. 

Her lips too, and esophagus, were coated in a thick layer of soot. 

Just before the flames expanded, a sudden noise in the forest attracted the Orc's attention. 

"Marco!!" The voice trailed off. 

The Orcs, meanwhile, left the burning fire alone and approached the tree line. 

As they got closer to the brush. 

"MARCO!!" A pair of small human hands burst from the tree line. 

The hands were full of something bright yellow that dripped onto the grass, but without a second to rest, the yellow substance was smashed into the eyes of one of the Orcs. 

The Orc immediately stepped back. He wiped his eyes clean but the yellow juice still remained. 

Suddenly, the Orc started to cry. The substance started burning his eyes. 

Meanwhile, while one Orc dealt with his eyes — the other three stormed into the brush, but once on the other side, the Orcs found nothing. 

Then, the voice erupted from another part of the forest. 

"Marco!" It said. 

And, like before, the Orcs trudged across the field towards another line of tree and brush. 

Just as they made it to the line, the voice again came from behind them. 

"Marco!" It said. 

Then, while they were distracted, small plump hands burst out of the brush and rocketed towards yet another pair of eyes. 

Blinded, the Orc tumbled backwards and tore at his eyeballs to no avail. 

At the same time, paranoia gripped the remaining two Orcs. They cast their gaze into the forest unsure of what cruel beast was toying with them. 

"Marco!" The voice returned. 

The Orcs, however, learned from their past mistakes. 

This time, only one Orc followed the voice to the brush. This Orc hesitantly scanned the area. He carefully looked around and prepared himself for a confrontation. 

Meanwhile, the Orc left alone heard something to his side: the bushes were rustling. 

The Orc leaned towards the bushes hoping to catch something, but instead, all that greeted him was a pair of human hands that came spiraling towards his eye sockets. 

The yellow liquid splashed into his eyes and the Orc leaped back. 

Suddenly, only one Orc remained. 

But at the same time, the fire underneath Olive continued to grow. 

Her feet were now raw as her soles had completely burned off. 

Her toenails were black and all across her feet, blisters grew and popped — bubbling from the incessant heat below. 

Clark was running out of time. 

///LostNoteFound///

Thank you moofin!! ;*