Time stretched into a slow, merciless crawl.
With each agonizing step, the weight of the iron shackles bit into his skin, their cold grip unrelenting. The heat of the sun had long since faded, leaving behind the dry, bone-chilling wind that howled through the ravine like a whisper of forgotten souls.
They had been walking for what felt like hours.
No food. No water.
Only the sound of chains clinking, boots crunching, and labored breaths.
Then
"Stop!"
The commanding voice of a soldier split the silence like a whip.
A collective sigh of exhaustion rippled through the prisoners as they collapsed to the ground, their bodies too weak to resist. The weight of the chains pulled them down in a domino effect, one fell, then another, until the entire line was strewn across the rocky ground like discarded dolls.
Alex fell with them.
His hands pressed against the rough stone beneath him, his breathing deep and controlled as he gathered his thoughts.
His situation.
He was no longer the king.
He was a slave.
A nameless prisoner, bound by iron and stripped of everything he once had. His body was weak, his magic was gone. And worst of all, he wasn't alone in this body.
A lingering trace of the original soul remained, faint yet persistent, like the ghost of a whisper.
He felt it when he moved, in the small hesitations, in the unfamiliar weight of this body. It wasn't his.
He had stolen it from someone.
And though he knew he had no choice, a flicker of guilt gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.
But before he could dwell on it
A commotion stirred the air.
"Where do you think you're going, girl?"
Alex's head snapped up.
Not far from him, a small figure was moving…crawling.
It was her.
The red-haired girl.
She was struggling against the chains, dragging the others as she pulled forward. Her breathing was ragged, her arms trembling, yet she didn't stop.
Her eyes fierce, unyielding, desperate were locked on him.
Alex's heart stilled.
Does the original owner of this body know her?
The thought sent a strange unease through him.
His fingers curled into fists, his mind racing.
Who was she?
And why—
Why was she looking at him like that?
She kept moving.
Her frail hands dragged against the dirt, her knees scraped raw from the jagged rocks beneath her. Yet, she did not stop, her entire being fixed on one thing.
Him.
Alex watched in silence as the girl, no more than sixteen, fought against the weight of her chains to reach him.
Her fiery red hair, tangled and matted, was streaked with dust, but her eyes, those teary, desperate emerald eyes burned with a light that even slavery could not extinguish.
And then, she was there.
Before Alex could react, before he could speak—
She threw herself into his arms.
A choked sob left her lips as her frail arms wrapped around him, clutching onto him as if he were the only thing keeping her from drowning.
"Brother…"
Her voice trembled, broken with emotion.
Alex's entire body stiffened.
Brother?
She buried her face into his chest, her body shaking with quiet cries.
"It hurts…" she whimpered, "My hands, my wrists, they're sore… And I can't—I can't take it anymore…"
Her voice cracked, her pain pouring into every word.
She lifted her head, eyes red and swollen from tears, and asked, "Are you okay? You're not hurt, right?"
Alex froze.
He didn't know her.
Yet, here she was, clutching onto him with everything she had, her body seeking comfort from someone who wasn't really her brother.
Guilt coiled inside him like a serpent.
This girl, whoever she was believed him to be someone else.
And he…
He had taken that person's place.
For a moment, Alex hesitated. Then, slowly, he reached up and peeled her arms off of him.
She looked up, eyes wide and vulnerable, the pain in them so raw that for a second, just a second—Alex almost felt it himself.
He exhaled, placing his hands over hers, his grip gentle yet firm.
"Everything will be alright," he said softly. "I'm fine. And we, we'll get out of here soon."
A sliver of hope flickered in her teary eyes.
But before she could respond—
A voice scoffed.
"You better give up hope," a slave chained directly in front of Alex muttered without even turning around. "Clinging onto it will only do you harm."
Alex glanced up at the man.
He was gaunt, his skin sunken against his bones, his once-muscular frame reduced to nothing but skin and suffering. His chains rattled as he shifted, but there was no fire in his movements, only resignation.
And yet—
"I believe everything will be alright."
A different voice spoke this time.
Alex turned to see another prisoner, a scrawny man so thin that even the tight chains hung loosely from his bony wrists.
Despite his appearance, there was an unsettling brightness in his hollowed eyes.
"We just have to finish our job here, help the king win the war." His lips curved into a tired but genuine smile. "Once the war is over, the king will reward us all. We just have to endure for now."
Alex stared at him.
He doubted any of them knew the truth of this place.
The corruption of the crystals wasn't the only danger lurking in these mines.
No.
There was something far worse.
Something far more terrifying.
The Abyss.
Or rather.
What lies within it.
And sometimes…
They crawl out.