The Conscript
Author's note : This is another one originally posted under the screen name "Arkyandragon". It is my personal favorite.
Seth did not like war. He correctly assumed that most people like himself did not care for war, though he would valiantly defend his claim that he, in particular, did not care for such combat. He did not particularly like the idea of fighting, did not care for the idea of taking another man's life, but even more importantly he had a great dislike for the idea of having his own life taken. Ironically it was the very thing that led to his ever being involved with the war. It made the decision very easy those months ago when he was plucked away from his duties in the barley fields back home by the recruiters. He could still remember their generous offer: Fight in the battlefield and you may die by the enemy's sword, or stay in this field and you will die by ours.
He knew very little about the kingdom which claimed his neighbors and himself as subjects. To him, the royalty were but distant men squabbling in a cold castle, men who claimed lordship by noble birthright but enforced it by less than noble means. The kings and princes that fancied themselves lords over the land cared not for the quiet farming villages so far away, save for the arrival of the taxmen during the harvesting season.
That had all changed when the war began, however. If Seth knew little about his own kingdom, he knew even less about the enemy and the war they were fighting. When he was pulled so abruptly from his life and conscripted into the army to fight, little more than the most basic instructions with the sword and the commandment to obey his superiors was given, save for the constant threat of death should desertion ever be attempted.
Perhaps that was why, in his first confrontation on the battlefield, Seth was quick to surrender his sword and allow himself to be captured by the enemy. He had no love for the king that he was supposed to fight for, and even if he wanted to do battle, his lack of knowledge would have rendered him useless and dead within moments. The idea of being captured by the enemy was a rather unsettling one, but the conclusion that he and several of his comrades had rapidly come to was that it was better than joining the countless dead whose blood stained the very ground they were to defend.
So it was that he found himself bound by the hands, chained at the ankle and the neck to a long line of fellow prisoners of war, shuffling his way quietly and dejectedly along the roadside. Caravans and cavalries alike, all belonging to the enemy of course, passed them in either direction, coming and going from the battle he had left behind. It had been a full three days since he and his fellows had been taken prisoner and bound to the chain, beginning the long journey to a destination unknown. His captors had taken every living survivor from the battlefield capable of walking, the others having been left to die slowly of their wounds. The only breaks in the long walk they had been given were either to let his captors rest or to remove those who had succumbed to weakness or wound and could no longer walk. Like those left on the battlefield, they too were simply cast to the side and left to die.
Seth attributed his survival to his many years of working in the fields. Though by now he was weakened by a lack of proper food and thirst, having been given only dirty water and stale bread to survive upon since being captured, he was still in good health and was able to walk with little difficulty. Hard work since being a youth had made him into a strong young man, long days under the sun having turned his skin a dusty bronze and his once black hair into a fair shade of light brown. The ordinarily powerful and tireless muscles of his body were feeling somewhat strained, and though he was certain he could go on for some days more at this pace, he prayed that he would not have to.
Even as he was thinking the thought, there was a rough tug at his chains, his captors willing the prisoners to pick up their pace somewhat. Seth complied, though there was no other alternative, he told himself in his mind that he complied, maintaining an illusion of free will to himself. Slowly he looked up as they trudged along, his tired eyes roaming past the struggling prisoners ahead of him on the chain, blinking away the dust and harsh afternoon sunlight as he focused in on one of his captors, the enemy that he refused to fight on the battlefield.
His captors were not human, however. Perhaps that was part of the reason that armies fell to them so easily. Until the war, no one had ever seen or even heard of the lizardmen, and even in the beginning of the hostilities they were not seen. Once the enemy began to use them as soldiers, however, their presence became widespread and greatly feared. Virtually unstoppable in battle, they were not much larger than a human being but seemed to possess a far greater strength and stamina, wielding powerful, ungainly weapons with ease, their ranks rapidly cutting through any defenses. Their numbers seemed endless, the size of their armies only growing as the war went on, and soon the only humans the enemy used to fight were the field commanders whose sole purpose seemed to be to command the beasts.
Even here, Seth thought, the creatures seemed too unnatural to be real. Their actions were almost mechanical, following the orders of their human superiors without failure or falter. Though the dark green scales of their hides seemed to afford them a natural protection from steel and arrows, each was equipped with a rudimentary set of armor, heavy steel plates lashed together and hastily draped over their reptilian bodies. Though they wore a kind of helmet, most of their menacing snout was exposed, expressionless except for the almost perpetual toothy grin that they wore. Even their eyes seemed devoid of expression, devoid of emotion, and except for the perfect precision with which they carried out their orders, seemed wholly devoid of thought or intelligence.
It was one of these creatures tugging harshly at their chains, a massively muscled arm pulling on a lead that was held by what might pass for human hands, except for the deadly claws and scaled flesh. In spite of the apparent anger behind the action, the creature's expressions were still impassionate, simply following the orders given by the field commander who rode in a covered buggy in front of the chained prisoners. There was the sound of shuffling feet as the chains were tugged, a few muffled grunts of surprise and fatigue, and again the depressing monotony of chains clashing in perfect harmony, an unbroken rhythm of footfalls in the dusty ground as Seth and his former comrades were led off to an uncertain destiny. He breathed out a silent sigh, his head once again hanging down, eyes closing and blotting out the image of his dusty, bloody feet dragging themselves along the rocky trail.
The passage of time had rapidly become as foreign a concept to Seth and the other prisoners as the idea of freedom. When the captors rather unexpectedly ordered a halt, there was no way to know how many hours might have passed since he had taken a look up, though the sun hung lower in the sky to the west, and the scratchy dryness in his throat told him it had been far too long since he had been given any water. He kept his head low, expecting someone - something - to come down the line and offer a small drink of water, but the water never came. Instead, new sounds seemed to grow in his ears, the sounds of crowds and voices and wagons, the sounds of civilization. Slowly, Seth once more lifted his head, his eyes this time greeted by a wholly different sight. A walled city, far larger than any he had visited, situated at the foot of the gently sloping hill they were descending. Whether they had walked all the way to the kingdom of the enemy, or if this was simply a city they had captured, he neither knew nor cared. His eyes simply feasted on the sight of people roaming freely, unchained, going about their daily business, buying and selling and trading, children playing games, farm workers like himself returning home from a day in the fields.
That city, obviously, was not their destination. Again the line of prisoners slowly began to move down the hill, and though no word was given Seth knew where they were headed. Next to the walled city was another, smaller city, but this one was different. Instead of stone walls, it was built of hastily erected battlements and watchtowers. Instead of being filled with homes and markets, it was filled with tents of various kinds. Children did not frolic within, and working men did not come and go from the gates. It was a military encampment, perhaps some kind of base of operations, although Seth was more inclined to believe it some kind of camp for holding prisoners of war. He saw at the base of the hill, another chained line of prisoners like his own, being escorted within the battlements, disappearing within the encampment. Soon, he guessed, they too would be led within, and only there would their short term destinies be decided.
Seth kept his head up, looking about him as they descended the hill. Though he felt a growing trepidation, not unlike the feeling of a condemned man being led to the gallows, he felt something else that such a doomed prisoner often feels during his last walk on earth. The feeling that every step was one closer to closure, one step closer to the end of this ordeal, and though he knew not how that end would come, his body ached for the long walk to be over, and the anticipation seemed to lighten his steps, to give him one last fit of energy, as if urging the completion of suffering.
Though he couldn't walk any faster than the rest of the prisoners, he felt that the pace had indeed picked up. Perhaps the others were feeling the same sense of closure, the same desire to finish, and were speeding up. Perhaps their captors were eager to be done with the lot, eager to move on to a new assignment, but if they felt any sense of eagerness, their reptilian visages were as unmotivated and featureless as they had been from the start. Whether the increased pace was a product of his imagination or real, the walk down to the base of the hill seemed short, and, as he suspected, they did indeed stop at the entrance to the camp. The sole human among the company of his captors stepped out of the buggy he was riding in, speaking loudly at the men at the gate in some incomprehensible language. Moments later they were allowed passage, the chained prisoners being led inside the compound, one slow step after another. Seth noticed, just out of the corner of his eye, how the human commander seemed to eye each and every one of the captives, as if sizing them up for something.
The inside of the compound was a sort of organized chaos. Tents stood in place of most otherwise permanent structures, forming a crisscrossed maze of pathways in between them, and it was a wonder that he didn't see people - or lizardmen, for that matter - wandering around lost among the tents. Their captors seemed to know exactly where they were going, though, leading the chained line of prisoners in a weaving pattern between tents and other structures. He could see emotionless lizardmen doing various training exercises in clearings between the tents, human commanders barking sharp orders that were followed with deadly and striking precision. The creatures were almost mechanical in the way they worked.
It was only a few minutes before the captives were led to their destination within the compound. A large cage of sorts had been constructed, thick looking wooden bars lashed to stakes that held the makeshift prison firmly to the ground. A canopy had been erected over the prison, although Seth guessed it was not to shade the captives from the sun but to keep them in the dark. He squinted through the slowly reddening afternoon sunlight, and could see a few dozen men already crammed into the wooden prison, some sprawled out on the floor, looking half dead, some looking forlornly out the bars, while still others regarded the newcomers with a look that was frighteningly akin to ... hunger.
One by one, the captives were unchained and herded roughly into the enclosure, the lizardmen pushing them into the structure with little more than a dispassionate grunt. Seth was near the front of the line, and when his leg was unchained from the line, he didn't wait to be shoved into the prison. He chose to maintain a sense of dignity about him, once more reinforcing the illusion that he had some sort of free will remaining, that it was under his own choice and power that he stepped into the cage. Whether his captors cared or even noticed he could not tell, their unchanging features barely glancing over him as he strode into the crowd of prisoners, finding a spot near the bars and watching as the rest of the line was unchained and placed into the enclosure. One of the creatures, a guard of some kind, shut the gate and latched it with little more than a rope binding. Escape, although the dream of the prisoners, was not to be had deep within a military compound.
A few moments passed by when a rather scraggly looking man, sprawled out on the ground and wearing but the faintest rags for clothing, scrabbled his way over to Seth, tugging on his pant leg in an attempt to get his attention. "You! You there, newcomer."
Seth glanced down, looking the man over a moment before speaking to him. His age was difficult to ascertain, but he guessed that the man had been here in the prison for some time. His features were gaunt, his clothes torn nearly to shreds, his skin and hair nearly caked and matted with what had to have been weeks of dirt and other filth that Seth chose not to think too much about. He looked injured, lying on the ground as he was, though his eyes seemed to sparkle animatedly as he looked up at Seth. "What do you want?"
"Looking awfully sprightly up there," the man grinned, and sat up a bit to get a better look at the newcomer.
"I suppose," was Seth's uninterested reply.
The man seemed to think this was somehow funny, and he cackled inwardly. Seth might have asked him what was so funny, if he didn't volunteer the information himself. "Might not be such a good idea, newcomer."
Seth blinked, looking a bit confused. "What do you mean?"
The man grinned, a mischievous look in his eye as he beckoned Seth with a finger. Seth obliged by kneeling somewhat, turning his attention to the strange man, as there was little else for him to do in the prison. "Look at me, newcomer," the man ordered. "I look like I been here a while, don't I?"
Seth nodded with a reply, but said nothing.
"I been here a good long time, newcomer," the man said, looking around nervously for a second, and then relaxing. "I been here longer than any of these others you see. Don't know how long, but I'm guessing two or three months, no less. Rest of these folk? Don't stay around long ... a week, maybe, at most. Some of them more, some of them less. The ones like you? They usually get taken after a few hours."
"Taken?" Seth whispered, confused.
The man nodded, rubbing a palm over his matted hair. "Taken. They come once or twice a day, 'round lunchtime and sunset. Sometimes they'll take one or two, sometimes they take away half a dozen, but they always take at least one. And if you don't learn a thing or two, you'll probably be gone before you even learn my name."
Seth frowned at that, half wondering if the man hadn't gone a little insane in his time in the prison. "Why would you say they take someone like me?"
"Look at me," the man whispered, sniffling. "I don't look all that healthy, do I? Look a little beat up, a little worse for the wear, but I ain't broken and they know it. So they come and feed me along with the rest, hopin' maybe I get better before too long, get some substance to me. Don't know how long they'll keep me though, you know?
"Now, the ones who is broken, they take away, after they given up on them. Don't know how long they'll keep me though ... gotta make them think I'm gettin' better, give 'em some hope you know? But the ones like you? The ones who look good and strong and healthy, that don't need no fixin' up, you're the ones they take first chance they get."
"What are you talking about?" Seth went to stand back up, indignant, but the man's hand shot out and grabbed him by the shoulder, with surprising strength, keeping him crouched near. "Why would they do that? What are you talking about, take me?"
"Think about it newcomer, give it a moment of thought. They come and take the weak ones, the broken ones, and get rid of 'em. They come and take the strong ones, the healthy ones, the young ones like yourself. The rest of us, the ones who need a little fixin' and a little feedin', why, they just keep us in here as long as it takes, feedin' us and such until we get better. Think on it, newcomer. They intend to eat us, is what they intend to do. You seen them lizard-creatures they got runnin' around, workin' for them. God knows where they come from, I don't, though I suppose they are some kind of demon-spawn. Wherever they come from, creatures like them, they need feedin' to keep in line, and these creatures feed on human flesh, newcomer. But not the dead, broken, rotten kind, they like it warm and breathing, strong and fresh, they gonna suck the energy right out of yer bones while you are still screaming and writhing ..."
"Nonsense!" Seth spat out, standing up and escaping the man's grasp, looking about him confusedly.
"Nonsense? Look around, newcomer, and think on it. You know what I'm talking about. Take a good look ... you know what they are doing. I've learned to avoid their eye, bein' none too weak and none too strong, I know how to stay alive here. But feeding time is coming, and if you don't learn how to survive, they'll take you before you know my name ..."
Seth wanted to say it was nonsense, knew it had to be nonsense, but the man's story already was working its way into his mind. He had worked on many farms, and had seen animals penned up for slaughter many times. He had seen how the farmer had surveyed his animals, picking only the biggest and strongest for slaughter, keeping the rest to feed and care for until they were plump and ready for the taking, while those broken beyond repair would be slaughtered as well, worthless and gotten rid of. He had seen many farmers herd up their cattle, their swine, and pen them up for feeding and caring until the time came for the slaughter, and he had seen those witless animals dragged off to their doom ... but he couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it. He was about to say so, when the man spoke up from the floor again.
"Uh oh ... it's feedin' time ..."
Seth blinked and looked around, and his eye caught movement outside the enclosure. Two of the lizardmen had come from around the corner, with one of the human commanders following behind them. The creatures, as always, had the cold look of nothing in their eyes, but the man's expression was quite different. He seemed to wear a slight grin, the corner of his mouth upturned in a crooked fashion, as he stepped forward and looked into the enclosure. A hushed silence fell over the prisoners as the man's gaze all but paralyzed them. His stare was calculating, and Seth could imagine the thoughts going on behind those eyes. Was he indeed picking out the best specimens to feed his armies? For a moment he considered feigning weakness, just as the unnamed man below him, but whether or not he would seriously consider it became a moot point. The man's penetrating gaze caught his own eyes and held them there for a long moment, a moment that felt uncomfortably long, before it passed over and began to scan the rest of the prisoners.
There were soft, inaudible whispers from the huddled crowd of prisoners, hurried prayers to one god or another, perhaps quiet curses to no one in general. There was an uneasy shifting as the gaze of the man outside the enclosure swept over them, prisoners variously blinking back in stupefied fear or huddling under shreds and rags of clothing, a few even scuttling behind their fellow captives. The moment of suspense would soon be over, though, when the man turned to the pair of lizardmen he commanded, barking an order at them in that language that Seth had never heard before. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the guard opened the door, the lizardmen stepping inside with chains rattling, hushed protests sounding as they pushed their way through the crowd, and then from somewhere behind him came the pleading sound of begging, followed by the harsh sound of restraints being clasped, and finally the resigned whimpering of their first victim as he was dragged out of the enclosure.
Seth continued to look forward, his ears registering the sound of the other lizardman shoving his way about, the light sound of the chains rattling ringing out. He did not quite look to the commander standing outside, though a part of him swore that the commander's gaze was fixed right on him. He swallowed involuntarily at the approaching sound of the lizardman, his heart beating rapidly and his breath catching in his throat as he wondered for a moment if the dirty, unnamed man had been right, if he would be taken away to the slaughter because of his apparent health. His fears were only confirmed when the cold, unyielding touch of steel was felt at the back of his neck, scaled fingers clasping the second restraint around his own neck. He didn't fight against the tugging, letting himself be pulled along, though his eyes slipped shut and an almost choking gasp fled his throat as he caught his breath again, feeling himself pulled out of the enclosure and hearing the door being latched shut behind him.
Again there was the sound of orders being barked in that strange tongue, and again he opened his eyes, watching as the commander turned around and led the pair of lizardmen away from the enclosure, who in turn pulled the chains that led both himself and his fellow prisoner to an unknown fate. As they passed the enclosure, Seth heard a soft voice speaking out. "It's Aden."
Seth turned and looked into the enclosure, and found the nameless, dirty man who had spoken to him looking out the bars in his direction as he passed. The man's eyes looked sorry, incredibly apologetic, as he spoke out once more before Seth was led away from the enclosure for good. "My name. It's Aden."
There was no time for a reply, however. The chain around Seth's neck was tugged and his gaze torn away from the apologetic stare of the man who called himself Aden. As he and the other prisoner were led roughly away from the enclosure and once again among the maze of tents and structures of the encampment, Seth did the only thing he could think of to protect himself from the pending doom - he withdrew into himself. The faces of the lizardmen and humans he passed along the way became mere blurs, the series of lefts and rights forgotten as Seth pulled inward, refusing for the moment to acknowledge his situation, giving himself a momentary respite from the mental torture of being led to one's death. He would have closed his eyes and smiled, except that he had no wish to trip and fall and be dragged along like an already dead man.
The mental haze kept Seth from realizing how much or how little time passed, but when the fateful march came to an end, he once again came to his senses. Somewhere along the line, he had been separated from the other prisoner, and was momentarily alone with the lizardman who held his chains. Still he could find no emotion, no hint of anything beyond mechanical obedience in those quiet eyes, no hint of anything self-aware in the statuesque stillness of his captor. Seth instead turned his attentions to his surroundings. He found himself in a small, empty section of the encampment, an eerily arena-like enclosure surrounded on all sides by the same dull and dirty canvas of the tents. The area was completely devoid of any distinguishing features, save for a wooden post planted firmly in the ground in the center, with small metal rings firmly attached to the top and bottom.
It looked more like an execution arena than a feeding grounds.
Seth didn't have long to contemplate the situation, as the sound of movement off to the side caught his attention. A hidden flap in the cloth walls opened, and a small procession stepped through. First was one of the armored lizardmen, followed shortly by his human commander, the same man with the piercing gaze who had selected him from the prisoners. Behind him came another one of the creatures, bearing something wrapped in cloth and cords, and behind him was a strangely dressed woman whose very appearance seemed to bring a light chill to the air. He didn't know why, but the first word that came to his mind was witch.
Commands were given in that foreign tongue again, and the beast holding his chains moved. Seth found himself pulled inexorably toward that wooden post, until he was pushed back up against it. The other lizardman assisted as he was firmly chained to it, his body limp and unresisting as his hands were bound to the rough wood high over his head, his ankles lashed below. Their work finished, they retreated a few steps and once again became motionless sentinels on either side of him, just behind him, leaving him hanging limply from that pole. He could feel the cold steel biting into his wrists as his body hung there, but the pain felt distant, almost surreal given the situation.
The human commander smiled, a satisfied look in his eyes, as he stalked quietly around Seth in a slow circle, finally coming to a stop a little off to the side. The other human, the strangely dressed woman, walked quietly over and regarded him, the third creature following with that large bundle. A few more words were exchanged that he couldn't understand, the woman seeming to regard him for a long moment before nodding. She stepped forward, touching her fingertip lightly to his forehead, pushing his head back up against the post for a bit before she began to quietly speak in her strange language.
He watched her lips curiously, and though he could not understand the words that she spoke they sounded lightly melodic, something halfway between a chant and a song. Her eyes were fixed unwavering on his, dark black orbs watching him intently as she spoke, her finger still pressed lightly into his forehead, almost entranced by her voice. Abruptly she let go of his head, which drooped forward a little bit, reaching for something in that bundle held by the lizardman. His eyes felt heavy, as if they were about to close, when a pained scream from not too far off caught his attention, and he involuntarily lifted his head once more, looking around. The woman seemed not to notice, or if she did, was too busy to care, however, as she let a single drop of something red slip from her fingernail into a small earthen bowl, and as he suddenly felt a light sting on his forehead and a wet dribble, Seth realized that drop of red was his own blood. The thought sent a light chill down his spine, and he watched intently as the contents of that bowl were mixed lightly with that finger. He had no idea what it was, but it looked like little more than mud.
Seemingly satisfied, the woman held the bowl out in front of her and, using her fingertip, crudely smeared a generous portion of the mixture on either of Seth's cheeks, and then across his forehead. There was another mild sting as whatever it was brushed across the wound she left there, and once more she began her melodic chanting.
Suddenly everything seemed to grow quiet and hushed, as if he were listening to everything with cloth held over his ears. Seth looked up and watched as her lips moved, her eyes once again holding his own in their powerful gaze, as a numb, tingling sensation seemed to spread out warmly from his forehead, moving down his neck and body and seeming to sop the energy from his muscles, his energy fleeing and leaving him hanging limply and loosely from those chains, his strength now hardly able to support his head, though he felt compelled to match the woman's gaze, her words a mere muted whisper in his confused ears. The strange sensation still coursed through his body, his skin feeling tight and dry all of a sudden, his clothes feeling tight and restrictive over his chest, his legs, his arms. He had half a mind to look down, wondering if he would discover the source of the odd sensations were the hungry maws of reptilian monsters rending his clothes and devouring his living flesh, but her eyes still held his, even as a dark miasma began to creep into his vision, swirling inward from the edges of his perception, everything growing black except for the commanding stare of the woman ...
Then the pain began. It began as a small sensation of warmth near the end of his spine, a pricking warmth slowly creeping its way up his backbone, and the muted sound of the woman's voice in his ears was replaced by a buzzing, ringing sound that seemed to accompany the painful sensations. Soon the light warmth just above his buttocks became a fiery burning feeling, a stabbing, searing sensation at his lower back that spread upward, and he could only describe it as how one might feel if their spine were being slowly, torturously extracted from the very end. The pain was too much to bear, and Seth was certain he would pass out from the sensation, but somehow held on to consciousness. He reacted by pulling against his chains, the pain enough to override the hold of the woman's gaze, his head thrown back as he let out a scream of pure agony. He was certain, at least, that he was screaming, though he couldn't hear it over the muted buzzing sound, couldn't feel it over the excruciating pain that crept slowly up his back and began spreading outward. The pain was so overpowering, that Seth began to wish he were actually dying. A voice in the back of his head quietly wondered if this is what it felt like to be eaten alive.
Though the pain on his lower back slowly began to subside, it did not stop there. The warmth continued to spread outward, through his chest and into his extremities, at first a gentle kind of warmth, then a prickling, and then the unbearable burning, stabbing sensation. It seemed to move like wildfire through his very bones, the feeling moving through the core of his being, spreading outward from his chest and radiating down his arms and his legs, searing him from the inside out until it reached his hands and feet. If it had been painful before, here it was pure torture, moving through each and every one of his fingers and toes all at once, the simultaneous feeling of having his digits cooked in boiling water while being stretched outward, pulled slowly until being torn from their very bases. Yet he knew they were not actually being torn off, at least not yet, because he could still feel the pain.
After what seemed a small eternity, the burning pain fled his fingers, radiating outward until all that was left was a dull, throbbing sensation, his flesh once more growing almost numb, feeling thick and heavy and used, pulling on his bones, much as it did everywhere the pain had come and gone. But the experience wasn't over, as he could still hear the ominous buzzing in his ears, could still feel the unwelcome and foreboding warmth in his chest, as if some demon had taken possession of his heart, lashing out at his body in torture until the final moment in which it would wrap its fiery fingers around his heart and tear it right from his chest.
If the fire were a demon indeed, it began to feel its way upward from his chest, rising from the core of his body and up into his neck. Seth could tell his heart was pounding, he could feel the breath being squeezed out of him as the terrible burning rose from his chest into his throat, constricting down on it, choking him, depriving him of air. He wanted to give into the strangling feeling, wanted his life to be cut off now, wanted the pain to end but his body would not give up the fight. Somehow he held on, continued to breathe and live as the warmth rose up from his throat and into the back of his head, near the base of his skull, where it would teach him the true meaning of pain.
The final sensation tore through his skull like nothing he could have imagined, casting a long shadow over the pain he had felt before. The muscles of his entire body spasmed as the heat tore through his entire skull, searing his brain, stabbing outward from the back of his eyes. He felt as if his skull were being crushed, a tremendous pressure at his temples as it moved through the bone, seizing his jaw and holding it open in a mute scream of indescribable agony. Nothing was exempt from the torture, his head feeling squeezed in and pressed in one spot while threatening to burst outward from the pressure within in others. Everything, even his teeth seemed to share in the moment of utter pain, the pressure and the stabbing sensation and the warmth culminating, the buzz in his ears having grown to a painful shrill, and just when he felt as if the pain alone would cause his body to wither and die, it was gone. It fled, escaping from his scalp, the flesh there throbbing in remembrance of the pain, suddenly feeling cool from the lack of the searing heat, the buzzing gone from his ears as the sounds of reality rushed back. His body, nearly devoid of any energy, nearly collapsed, held up only by the chains that held him.
"Hush now, the pain is gone. Listen to me, Seth ..."
Confused, he lifted his head wearily, looking for the source of the voice. It was soothing, a gentle voice, a woman's voice. Suddenly he realized the strange woman was talking to him, her eyes still fixed on his. She was speaking to him, her lips moving and her voice quiet, although Seth got the impression that her mouth was not saying the words he heard. Somehow, he felt as if she were speaking directly into his mind ...
"The pain is gone now. Relax." Her voice was calm, seeming to echo lightly in his ears, reverberating lightly in his skull and washing down his tortured body. The pain was gone now, he couldn't deny that, her words making sense, but more than that her words seemed somehow infallibly true. "You are all right now, you are feeling better. The energy comes back to your body ... feel it in your bones, in your muscles. Don't fall now, Seth, stand up, stand under your own power now ..."
Slowly, Seth complied with the soft voice. He did indeed feel some strength back in him again, standing lightly and taking the pressure back off his wrists. He could feel hands touching his arms now, he could feel the chains being slowly removed, and then the same at his ankles as he was unbound from the wooden post, left to stand under his own power. Left free, a voice in the back of his head thought.
"Relax, Seth, listen to me. You don't need to go anywhere ... relax, calm down, and listen to me. You are okay, you are strong, there is no pain and you don't need to go anywhere. There is no need to fear us, no need to fear your new body ..."
He did indeed relax, finding the woman's words soothed him, and he felt compelled to obey them. He stood up a bit more, flexing his freed arms, and then the last words she spoke struck him. It was only then that he realized, looking at her, that he was looking out over a green scaled reptilian snout. The same little voice in the back of his mind that told him he was free was terrified, feeling at once violated and frightened, but by now that voice was a tiny one. The voice that dominated his mind was that of the woman, and her assurances were good enough for him. He glanced idly down at his body, first looking at his hand, transformed into a scaled, clawed weapon, his muscles bulging out from under that same scaled hide. His body seemed to have grown a bit, his clothes having been stretched and then burst, fallen to the ground below him.
"See? You have a good thing now, a good powerful body, good for you. Strong, and good," came the woman's soothing voice. "Now, don't worry while your brothers dress you properly for battle, now you have a good body to fight with, not like the one you had. No more losing for you, always you can win, it's good ..."
He nodded, agreeing that he would be good in battle now, in spite of the voice in the back of his head that was rapidly growing quieter. He watched as the other two lizardmen, his brothers, unwrapped what was left of that bundle, what appeared to be standard issue armor. The simple plates were draped over his body, held by leather straps over his shoulders, another kind of mesh armor draped over his tail, which he had just noticed. Finally the rudimentary helmet was placed over his skull, leaving that snout exposed, and he once more turned his attention to the woman with the soothing voice.
"Very good, Seth. You're being a good recruit, you will make a wonderful soldier, you will have a good life in the army. But first you will need a commander, and you have to listen to me very closely now, this is very important. I'm going to show you to him, he is good. Listen to him always, he will be the one you trust, the one you follow, no other, you need to understand that. Once you hear his ..."
The woman's voice was rather suddenly cut off by a wet crunching sound, her eyes going wide a moment as she froze in mid sentence. He kept his eyes locked to hers, gazing almost sadly into her look of shock, and then following her eyes down to her chest, where the business end of a crossbow bolt protruded from her clothing. Her hands feebly grasped at it, her breath sputtering and choking as her words were replaced by a thin line of crimson blood spilling from the corner of her mouth, before those once commanding and now sightless eyes rolled back into her head as she collapsed into a heap at his feet.
His eyes rose, lazily, upon hearing a confused command blurted out by the human commander still in the area. He still didn't understand what the man said, and could only stand dumbly as he watched, his eyes trying to focus on something his mind wasn't fully comprehending. The other lizardmen there responded to the order, readying their arms and standing at attention, but the man's body spun around as he nervously looked about him for the hidden assailant. There was the sound of something whistling through the air, then the man's body spun violently in the other direction as if he had been forcibly shoved about. His shoulder spewed a fountain of bright red as a second crossbow bolt tore irreverently through the flesh there, passing all the way through before clattering to the ground a few paces away. The commander did nearly a full turn on his leg, dropping his sword and falling to one knee, his good arm swinging up and clutching the fresh wound as he cried out softly, doing his best to look stoic in spite of the pain.
There was a flurry of movement as he hoarsely barked out another order, the lizardmen charging to the opposite side of the clearing. A fourth lizardman had appeared out of the shadows there, wielding an empty crossbow and carrying a large spear behind his back. Seth watched mutely, as the scene unfolded before his eyes, like some kind of waking dream. The newcomer tossed the now useless crossbow to the side, his hand going to his back in one fluid motion and pulling the spear away from the bindings that held it to his back. He seemed to be unconcerned with the advancing trio of soldiers, swords and shields drawn, instead narrowing his eyes a little and fixing his vision on the stricken commander that knelt on the ground. He hefted the spear over him, bouncing it a little in his grasp, taking aim and hurling it effortlessly through the air. The projectile sailed neatly over the advancing lizardmen, and the commander seemed taken off guard that he was still, in fact, the target. He gasped out softly and made a feeble effort to dodge, but the speed of the spear was just too much to match, and by the time he had a chance to rise from his knee, the weapon crashed firmly into his unprotected chest, lifting him off his feet and carrying him a few paces as it penetrated through his flesh. His face froze in a look of horror, suddenly splattered with his own blood as he was thrown against the ground, sliding a few more paces in the dirt before coming to a halt on his back, already dead and lifeless when his body stopped sliding, the shaft of that spear standing straight out from his heart.
Seth blinked as he took it all in, watching disinterestedly, his eyes seeming to only follow whatever caught his attention. The lizardmen soldiers drew near the intruder, but as their captain's body fell lifeless to the ground, they suddenly froze in place. Their bodies grew limp, arms drooping loosely to their sides, weapons falling to the ground with a clatter. Their emotionless eyes looked as lifeless as the dirt and blood encrusted eyes of the commander they obeyed as the fourth lizardman walked hurriedly past them, approaching Seth and immediately pulling the armor off his body, shaking the ropes off him and looking him over. "You okay?" he asked in a soft, breathless voice.
Seth made no response. He understood the voice, he knew the answer, but still he made no response. His eyes blinked slowly as he looked out over the scene before him. A harried looking lizardman standing before him, breathless from just having slaughtered a human commander and the witch, or whatever she was, while the three soldiers who served the now dead stood limp and lifeless, weapons scattered at their sides. He could make no sense of anything.
"Hey! Can you hear me? Anyone alive in there?" the rogue whispered, tapping his 'cheek' with a scaly hand, leaning in to look him curiously in the eyes.
Those eyes were different. They were not like the eyes of all the other reptilian soldiers. They were lively eyes, shifting from side to side, sparkling with intelligence and emotion. Things like concern and fear and excitement glowed in those eyes as they looked him over, and Seth began to wonder, as he looked over his greenish snout at the newcomer, what his eyes looked like. If there was anything left to his own, or if they had gone hollow, like all the soldiers he had seen. The haze was leaving his mind, had left his body, and he could feel all the foreign sensations. He could feel the thick tail hanging down from the bottom of his spine, he could feel toeclaws pressing lightly into the loose soil where he stood, he could feel the dusty breeze over the scales that now covered his body. He could watch as the reptilian who spoke to him gave him one more look over, peering right into his eyes, before he shrugged a little, a hint of dejection in those eyes, before he turned and made for the hidden entrance in which he had arrived, and it was only by a great effort that Seth was able to summon forth any sound. "Wait ..."
The lizardman stopped in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder with his head cocked at an odd angle. "You can hear me?"
"Y-yes ..." he breathed out, suddenly feeling weak on his legs, reaching for the nearby pole to steady himself. "Yes, I can."
"Here, come with me," he commanded, stepping in close and extending one of those scaled hands in his direction. "My name is Dan, and I am a friend. Follow me before someone comes and finds you."
Seth blinked again, finally looking all about him, his head turning on unfamiliar muscles, shuddering. "What ... happened here? What happened to me ..." he began to ask.
"No time to ask questions, I'll explain on the way." Dan thrust his hand out again, urging him to take it. "We have to leave now. Someone will be here any moment, and I won't be able to rescue you again ..."
Seth extended his arm, his eyes dropping and looking over the green flesh that had covered it, and nearly stopped when his hand was grabbed, and he felt himself pulled along. The muscles in his body rebelled, did not want to move, but he was given no choice as he was nearly dragged across the ground. Somehow his legs discovered themselves, walking in spite of the clumsy tail that hung out behind him, able to pick up the pace as he was led through a small hole cut into the fabric of the partition. Dan, as he called himself, held his hand tightly and led him along quietly, slinking between the tents of the compound, looking cautiously about, whispering softly under his breath when he felt the need. "I can't say much for now, but obviously you have been changed by the priestess. She was about to steal your mind and bind you to the captain there, and you'd have become one of the mindless soldiers like the rest of them. It'll only be a moment before someone discovers what's happened ..."
As if to accentuate his fear, there was the sound of commotion somewhere in the compound behind them, and the sounding of a low horn. Dan quieted his voice again, tugging on Seth's hand with renewed urgency and dragging him along until they arrived at the edge of the encampment, the sound of movement and metal not too far behind them. As they got to the edge, Dan released his hand and looked over the wall before them. Though it was anything but permanent, there was no way around the wooden barrier, and the only way out would be to somehow go over the wall, easily 5 meters high. Dan blinked, tensed, and then ran at the wall, leaping almost all the way up and sinking his claws into the wood, pulling himself up the last few feet and perching on the top, motioning down to Seth. "Come on! We've got to hurry ..."
Seth still felt confused, and stood there shaking his head. He looked around, dazed, going from Dan's face to the wall, to the tents around him. "I can't make it up there!"
"Sure you can!" Dan prompted, leaning over and once more stretching his hand out toward him. "Jump, and if you need to I'll pull you the rest of the way up!"
"No ..." he whispered, still shaking his head, still in disbelief. Not believing that he had been turned into some kind of beast, not believing he was a prisoner in an enemy camp, not believing he could scale that wall.
Dan looked up, into the encampment, and then cringed, looking down. "Listen, I can see them coming from here, and they know where we are. Trust yourself, you can make it. Just jump, and I'll help you the rest of the way. You have to do this now, before they catch you and kill me. You have to do this now or you will be a prisoner within your own body, forever."
Seth bit his lip and looked up once more. The lizardman up there still had his arm extended, his eyes piercing and serious, something like a smile on his face. He could hear the approaching sounds of the soldiers behind him, and something clicked in his mind. He tensed his body, relaxing his mind, realizing that he was indeed in control of these strange muscles. Without a second thought he ran for the wall, the claws on his toes digging into the ground and propelling him forward. Just as he was about to crash into it, the muscles in his legs tensed, sprung, and then released as he jumped with all his strength, closing his eyes and propelling himself upward, hands extended, faith on the edge ...
Then he felt the sensation of a scaled hand closing around his wrist, as his body slammed a bit uncomfortably into the wall, tearing the breath from his lungs. He hung limply, held there for a moment, before he coughed and opened his eyes, looking up. There was the lizardman, precariously perched on the edge of the wall, smiling down at him and straining himself to haul him up. "See ... you made it!" he whispered down to him, lifting his mass with a grunt and pulling him atop the wall.
From here he could see most everything. He could see the city that the fortification was built next to, he could see the hill in the distance that he had walked down on his last march before entering the camp. He could see most of the tents within the encampment, and imagined he could pick out the little clearing where he had been ... transformed. He could also see the rapidly approaching soldiers below, and could see more soldiers scaling the watchtowers not too far away. When he turned away, he saw his companion leap from the wall, landing on all fours and bounding several paces before standing back up again, turning around and calling to him. "Hurry!"
Seth did not want to think of the consequences of staying, and followed Dan's lead, leaping from the wall and imagining himself flying. He gasped in surprise when the ground rushed back up at him, the force of the impact painful but not too much to bear, and was somehow able to keep from falling and rolling, pulling himself upright. Just as he did, however, his companion began to run at full speed away from the encampment, dashing through the high grass of the field and calling after him. He didn't hesitate to follow, those legs of his carrying him quickly across the field, running after his guide for safety. The soldiers who had chased them through the compound showed no interest in matching their feat of leaping over the wall, but as he cast a backward glance over his shoulder, he could see the soldiers on the watchtowers were armed with bows and arrows, and they were already taking aim. He yelped out lightly, urging himself on faster through the field, when the high-pitched sound of arrows sung through the air, some of them passing high overhead, while he heard others strike the ground with a dull thud not far from where his feet fell.
The field gave way to the edge of the forest a few hundred meters from the fortification, and it was there the pair were running for their lives. Dan was several paces ahead of him, darting rapidly through the high grass toward the trees, and Seth cringed as he saw a few arrows fly dangerously close to him. He cringed even more when he heard them flying by even closer, one of them passing near enough to be felt just over his shoulder, sending a shudder down his spine and urging him on even faster. Dan was the first to near the treeline, jumping forward and diving into the ground, curling up and rolling into safety. Seth did not question the move, doing just the same, closing his eyes and ducking his head, holding his arms protectively over it as he struck the ground with a thud, his body curling up as he rolled past the first few trees, high grass and earth being kicked up into his face by the move, until he came to a rest.
It was once again Dan's offered hand that helped him up, and, seeing he was okay, began to bound off deeper into the forest. Seth paused, however, and called out to him. "Wait!"
"What is it?" his companion asked, coming to a stop and looking at him over the shoulder.
Seth took a deep breath, and looked behind him. He could make out the lines of the encampment, the bold walls of the city between the first few trees, could make out movement along the hills in the distance. He turned again and looked at Dan, and then dark forest beyond, before once more turning his gaze to the city. "Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere there are more like us, where we can help each other."
"I don't want to be like this." Seth whispered softly, looking longingly out at the city. He imagined the people there, the merchants, the shopkeepers, the farmers, the children and housewives, going about their business, going to sleep in their happy and secure homes. He thought back at his life before the war, he thought back on his fields that he had worked so hard in, the friends that he had, the little village that he called home. Suddenly, his heart ached.
"Look, I know," Dan whispered out softly before he was interrupted.
"I don't want to look like this," Seth hissed, looking down at his scaley, clawed hands, peering back at his tail. "I'm a human being, not ... not ... this! I want to go back!"
Dan took a few steps forward, standing just in front of him. "Listen to me, friend. We've all gone through what you have, and I know it's hard, but ... you can't go back. It was stolen from you by them," he said, gesturing with a claw toward the camp. "They took the life that you had, and it is gone."
"I'll take it back," he said softly, shaking his head. "I'll make them give it back."
"They won't. You can't take it back." His companion stepped back again, further into the trees, looking at him softly. "Come with me, and I will tell you everything we know. Come with me, and at least you can have a new life, you can embrace who you are now and find yourself again. Your life has been stolen, but you can have another. Or, you can stay and wait for the soldiers to find you, take you back. Not only have they taken your old life away, but they'll take this one away too, make you a slave of theirs forever, and you will be as good as dead. Follow me, or stay. It's your choice."
Seth blinked, and looked him directly in the eyes, watching them, full of fire and conviction, full of something like care and concern. He had so many questions, wanted to know why he had been rescued, wanted to know what had happened to him, wanted to know what would happen to him. He looked back, at the city, now bathed in the dying light of the setting sun. Perhaps it would not be the last time he laid eyes on humanity, but something told him that this was indeed saying goodbye to it. Somewhere in that camp, Seth the human had died, strapped to a pole, executed as a prisoner of war by his captors. He did not know why, but as he finally turned and followed this reptilian friend into the woods, he was making a choice. He did not know what lay ahead for him, but a new life was there to be found, and he was going to choose it. And as he slipped deep into the woods, he refused to turn back and look once more upon the humanity he had left behind.