God Rising: Battle Of Atela 51 Part Iv

"Is this a dream? Are we in Walhalla...No, not Walhalla, but this is just too good to be true" Saliva driveled from Keith's mouth as he envisioned diving into the delicacies the Guards brought. The Prince's orders were for the bowls of each slave to be overflowing, in other words, more than full.

~ 

"What do you want?" 

Artemis smirked, "Food. That is one thing…"

Darren hoped she didn't have a bucket list, but her mischievous grin made it look like the chances of that were high.

"What else?"

"I cannot ask for freedom because you're not my owner. But, I request your aide to collect a book that will be of benefit to the both of us."

"What book, and why is it so important?" 

~

Countless cheeses, freshly baked breads, vegetables, sweets, cascades of wine, and platters of fowls were available for consumption. 

Keith saw it as a miracle. For the workers to be served the same amount the Livingston family eat still seemed like an illusion. They ate, and they questioned, but what was more important was filling up their empty stomachs that demanded good nutrients.

The event lifted the spirits of the slaves. Their smiles were Artemis's smile. It brought joy to her seeing everyone happy despite the poor condition they were in. They'd forever remember the day they ate to their satisfaction without the watchmen intruding.

The food would go a long way until she returns from her journey. She didn't know a lot of them, but she cared for all.

Tears gushed down the dry skin of the distinct faces in the hall. Bliss and sadness, two riotous mixtures seemed to have taking control over their state of mind. The plate was empty, but they were fulfilled. 

~

"I believe you are here to explain what has gotten over you. Do you have a soft side for humans now?" 

Darren shook his head, afraid to look up to the face of his father because he was certain the DemiG.o.d's rage was enough to scorch him. Darren acted without seeking his permission, but they knew well that he'd never consent to feeding the slaves the right portion of food. 

"You think you have done them good, but you've made things more complicated for them. They will not eat for a month, and as for you…" He crushed the mug in his grasp, thinking about a discipline that would suit his son.

"Father, before you rebuft me...please listen to what I have to say." He waited for permission to speak, but his father declined. His hands balled, and he looked up with wet eyes.

"Father, it's the first time I'm requesting something from you. Please. I'm begging, listen to me."

"You have a minute." 

"Father, I want to travel to the Fox territory to recover a book by the Seryan Alchemist of many years ago." 

The demiG.o.d raised a brow, unsure of what or who his son was referring to. 

"And what's your business with the Seryan book?"

"That slave, Arm, he told me with the book, I can awaken my powers."

Marcellus spewed his green tea after listening to the words he found irrational.

He grabbed his napkin and wiped the corner of his lips and cleaned the remains of his drink from his beard.

"Activate your powers?" The man scoffed. 

"Father, I need to be stronger. You told me you don't believe in miracles. So please tell me how I'll win the summer games if I don't have powers, or battle skill."

Marcellus sighed, he had limited options. Tell the truth or don't tell the truth, and he picked don't tell the truth until it's time. 

"Regardless of whether I permit you, you'll return feeling hopeless. Do you realize that?" 

"Father, don't you have faith in me?" 

"This so-called book will not help you. Your father has warned. If you wanted to explore, you should have just said so." 

Darren rose to his feet, gesturing to prove how much the travel meant to him. "Father, I will become strong enough. So the elders will acknowledge my rule!" 

"Why do you trust Armin Willis? What if this is a plan to get you killed? Or he's just using your inability to think beyond the power you seek. What if it's a conspiracy, by none other than your brother Vincent?"

"If anything happens to me, at least we'll know it's Vincent and the slave my lord."

"I can't risk losing my son." 

Darren sulked, "Father, I am not afraid." 

"Of course you're not. You have no knowledge of what goes on beyond our protected domain, and the sorts of criminal you'll meet. Who will protect you? A slave that hates beastmen?" 

"I will protect myself." From the looks of things, it seemed like Marcellus wasn't moved by his son's speech and pleas.

"Father, I'm sorry" He bowed "But I will leave whether or not you like it" Tears suffused his eyes and he raged out with a racing heart.

Vincent was just around the corner when Darren b.u.mped into him. Before Vincent could talk, Darren already left. 

The moment he got in his room, the kiss of the twilight hour bathed his bronzed skin. He glanced at the gate from his oversized, mullioned and almost cathedral-like windows, then diverted his gaze to the hypnotizing moon amidst the gleaming stars.

The flicker of yellow from the silver candelabras suffused the floor and antique furniture of the room. He sat on his bed, hand on his head as he thought of the next thing to do. He wiped the remains of his tears as he bounced to his feet. It didn't take time before a bolt of an idea that might be risky struck him, but chances of it working were high.

The wolfman threw anything he could get his hands on into his box, from the important to the least important. Then he sat down to write a brief note to his mother.

(Before anyone asks why Darren is packing before his journey, I'll ask if you prepare your things the day of your flight? If you do, how do you get things done three minutes to your flight? Jeez. PS that's if you have an early morning flight.)

He was looking forward to whatever their search for the book would hold, and he didn't mind going alone with a slave that might or might not have a secret motive. 

He walked down the bright hall linking to many bedrooms and halted once he reached his mother's. He slid the envelope underneath her door before turning away.

He swiftly descended the perfect spiral stairs, cautiously minding the darkness and the possibilities of falling. He let his hand fall on the rustic iron rail leading to the chambers, and he gave it a little push. 

It was his first time going to the den of slaves and he felt qualmy. His unexpected and unusual arrival surprised the guards, and as commanded, they opened the door for him. 

The smell of the congested place was unpleasant. He pulled out a napkin from his pocket, and place it over his nose before venturing further into the run down cell that had been present for ages. 

He wondered how a place could smell so bad, but once his eyes darted from the vines clung to the walls, to the little window shrouded in foulness and grime, he concluded the smell was not only from the poor ventilation, but the odour from the decaying bodies of the slaves.

As he moved, in search of 'Arm', he noticed most slaves were already asleep, and some had blonde hair like Arm. He moved further into the dark hall, and his eyes darted from kennel to kennel, until he met Artemis's.

"He didn't agree." He went straight to the point.

Artemis cussed silently as she banged the floor with her fist "f.u.c.k!" She thought she had a little hope, but it seemed like she was too confident over something that wouldn't work the way she expected it.

"Did you try to convince him?" 

"Believe me, I tried." 

She uttered a sigh, and her doleful expression was enough to evoke more of Darren's grief, and shadow his anger.

"What are the chances that we can make it out tomorrow?"

"Not tomorrow" He shook his head. "We're leaving tonight."

*

Darren handed a cape to the slave, as they both scurried to the large shed made of weathered oak planks. They took cover behind the deep golden hue of old straw and surveyed the premises filled with patrolling watchmen. The best in sol.

"I think we have to go with the bed slave excuse again…" 

"Words going to go out that you're keen on men." After what Artemis said, his mind went to his fiancée, Lunar. A smile appeared on his face, "I'm looking forward to that." 

They moved from their hiding spot and snuck closer to the horses. Darren lifted the rusted iron hook pinning the stable door then moved to his stallion, Meg.

"Climb on!"

Artemis was surprised he could astride a horse, but she didn't want to be too quick to judge. He seemed inexperienced in everything. What shouldn't she expect from a pampered rich kid that rode in carriages all day.

"All we have to do is escape the tight security." 

It sounded easy, but it would be, if the watchmen don't question him. 

"Wait, can't I get a horse of my own?" Darren shook his head "Don't make things more difficult. I fear you'll run away from me." 

Artemis couldn't deny that, and she didn't have the slave mark yet. However, it was smarter to remain with the Livingstons than some other horrible household. She had privileges as long as Darren was still alive. They agreed on it.

They both heard the unsheathing of swords in the darkness, and toxophilites from the towers already aimed at the unidentified pair. 

"Hold on, I'm Darren Livingston" They returned to a defensive position, and Darren could already feel the fear creeping on his skin. 

"Please be bold for a few more minutes" Artemis pleaded, but Darren wasn't sure if he could be bold enough to talk eye to eye with the large and heavy armoured guard approaching him.

"Sir Darren, Why are you outside by this time, and the bags?" He took in a deep breath. He wanted to say something, but he was afraid he'd mess up what he intended to state. 

Artemis wished she could do the talking, but she wasn't in the position to do so. She wondered why he was so scared. The two of them expected gatekeepers, and he was definitely not a crook. It would be easy to lie and move on from the premises.

"Sir?" The cap of the beastman repositioned as he t.i.tled his head. 

"Y-yes...I" He cleared his throat after stammering and Artemis face palmed herself. She wanted to try something, and she prayed it would work. She nudged Darren a bit and whispered, "Move your lips." 

"My bed slave and I are going somewhere for the meantime." 

That was all he had to say, but he couldn't. Artemis was ready to answer the questions the guard will throw.

"Does Lord Marcellus know?" 

"Yes." 

"Did he agree?" 

"Yes…" 

Word hadn't gotten to the guards concerning Darren's quest. And it was odd for his father to stall a command. Maybe he changed his mind. 

The guard ordered for the gate to be opened and Derren commanded the horse to trot. 

"So you can ride a horse?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Artemis shrugged, "I don't know. It's stunning that the feeble, rich, dumb, and bashful child of Marcellus can accomplish something like this. I'm sure you can't even hold a b.u.t.ter knife. Over pampered t.w.a.t!" 

"Stop that! Why are you making fun of me?" 

Artemis grimaced. From his tone, it was clear he wanted to cry. She rolled her eyes. 

"I'm just clarifying that I don't like you, and we will never be friends. I can't be friends with a washout like you. Who would wany to be friends with a nineteen-year-old crybaby" She was taunting him for a reason. He had to get used to it. She was looking forward to him attacking her back, but for now, he's still the baby in an adult's body.

*

A guard informed the demiG.o.d that his son had gone with a 'bed slave.' He was aware. From his window, he could only watch and shook his head. 

The truth remained that it would be a complete waste of his time. What he sought wasn't achievable for a reason, and only a few knew why.