"Up! Get up, you lazy worms!"
The overseer's hoarse roar came with the dull crack of a whip on flesh, jolting the curled-up bodies of the slaves awake in terror.
The slaves dragged themselves upright, their frostbitten, bluish feet pressed against the scorching sand.
Not far away, the faithful were waking from their warm blankets, yawning as they waited for breakfast. Wrapped in robes embroidered with scripture, they prayed toward the rising sun, oblivious to how the slaves' frostbitten toes bled into the sand, leaving dark red stains.
Erebus stumbled weakly onto the deck, his pale face almost translucent in the morning light.
Instinctively, he licked between his teeth, his tongue still bled from where he had bitten it during last night's trembling. The metallic tang of rust spread in his mouth, a reminder of his blasphemous thoughts.
"Where is this place?" His voice was hoarse.
Kor Phaeron approached with a smile, patiently answering, "A nomad encampment. We are here to preach to the Forsaken."
That was also why he had been cast out of the Covenant.
The Covenant controlled all coastal territories of Colchis. Every town dweller was a follower of the Covenant.
But in the vast desert roamed countless nomadic tribes, the Forsaken.
Kor Phaeron had proposed radical expansion, to bring even the Forsaken of the desert under the Covenant's dominion.
Thus, Kor Phaeron got what he wanted: he was exiled by the Covenant, but also granted the chance to spread the faith among the Forsaken.
Erebus lowered his head. He and Kor Phaeron were not of one mind; there was no "we." But where was his "we"?
His eyes scanned the busy faithful and the slaves. When he woke, Caelan was no longer by his side; his figure was nowhere among the crowd. Everything that had happened recently now felt like a dream.
"Where is Caelan?" Erebus asked.
Kor Phaeron tilted his head. "Your servant? He went to the camp of the Forsaken."
Erebus exhaled in relief, whispering, "So it wasn't a dream…"
Then, raising his head, he corrected firmly, "Caelan is not my servant."
"Erebus, you forgot to apply your ritual paint today. Do you want me to help you?" Kor Phaeron asked.
But Erebus ignored him, dazedly walking toward the Forsaken's camp.
Seeing Erebus brush him off, Kor Phaeron's eyes flashed with irritation. Even in exile, he was still a priest of the Covenant, yet Erebus's contempt acted as though he didn't exist at all.
"Old man, do you know where Caelan is?" Erebus asked a slave.
He described Caelan's appearance, and the old man hurriedly pointed toward a tent.
The slave's submissive manner made Erebus feel sorrow. On Colchis, a day lasted 170.4 hours, and a year had 247 days.
Erebus was only two and a half years old. Kor Phaeron was eight. But this old man must have been at least ten.
The average lifespan on Colchis was seven years. To live past ten was exceedingly rare.
In the Covenant, those older than ten were revered priests. Yet this man was a slave.
On Colchis, identity was dictated by birth.
If your parents were slaves, you and your descendants would always be slaves.
Erebus's parents were commoners, which was why he was eligible to join the Covenant and train as a priest.
But priest, commoner, or slave, all were supposed to be faithful believers. If the gods were truly merciful, why did they allow the Covenant to enslave people?
Erebus did not understand, but he wanted an answer, and only Caelan could give it.
Erebus lifted the tent flap. Inside, he saw Caelan.
Caelan stood with his back to him, but Erebus did not call out; his gaze was instantly seized by the child inside the tent.
The child was only a year and a half old. His violet eyes radiated divine light, as if starlight flowed within them, as if they contained the truth of all creation.
In that moment, Erebus forgot to breathe.
He suddenly understood why Caelan had crossed the desert seas and who he had been searching for. This was no ordinary child. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, unable to voice the blasphemous thought.
"Where's Kor Phaeron?" Caelan asked.
Erebus opened the tent flap wider, hot winds laden with sand rushing in. Outside, Kor Phaeron was holding a bronze chalice, distributing bread and wine to the nomads.
In a low voice, Erebus asked, "He's giving out the sacrament, preaching to the Forsaken. Are we taking this child away?"
Erebus distrusted Kor Phaeron; his ambition was too great.
If Kor Phaeron discovered this child, he would certainly exploit him for his schemes.
If Caelan had come for this child, they had to leave at once.
"Caelan, he's coming this way!" Erebus whispered nervously. "What do we do?"
"Do nothing," Caelan said calmly. "Don't block the entrance. Let him in."
He stepped aside. Erebus hesitated, then joined him.
The child in the center of the tent kept watching them. Erebus knew his gaze was fixed on Caelan.
Caelan also knew, but from the moment he entered, he had not spoken a single word to the child.
"Don't go in, please!" The nomads begged behind him. But Kor Phaeron ignored them, lifting the flap with a sneer.
"I'll see for myself what you're hiding!"
He had seen Erebus enter this tent and not emerge. When he questioned the nomads, their evasive eyes confirmed it; something of great importance was hidden here.
When his cloudy pupils fell upon the child, his breath caught.
Bang!
Overwhelming rapture struck Kor Phaeron's mind. He collapsed unconscious.
"Kill them! Kill them all!"
When Kor Phaeron awoke, his voice trembled with ecstasy.
He knew the Covenant must never discover this child, or they would take him away.
This child was a gift from the Dark Powers. He belonged to him, and to no one else.
Driven into the center of the camp, the nomads looked around in terror at the guards with flintlock guns. Desperately, their eyes turned to the child, begging him to intercede; after all, they had cared for him for many days.
But the child remained indifferent. He only stared.
"Caelan…" Erebus tried to plead for the nomads, his eyes beseeching Caelan.
Caelan looked at the child, and in his eyes there was only disappointment.
He had always known Lorgar would be like this. But seeing it with his own eyes, he could not help but feel dismayed.
The child's gaze never left Caelan. He saw that disappointment, too. And for the first time, faced with his caretakers about to be slaughtered, the child's face showed panic.
Why was Caelan looking at him like that?
Had he… done something wrong?
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu