Chapter 3 - 5 Years
[: Daniel POV :]
5 years had passed by in the blink of an eye but the first thing that I had learned was not words, not joy, not dreams or even love, it was pain.
Just purely pain and nothing else.
Five years had passed and every single day of them, I lived with chains on my wrist and the burning brand over my heart.
The Slave Crest never faded and it will never be.
It had become part of me and something that I can’t erased.
It throbbed with pain if I hesitated.
It lit up with agony if I disobeyed.
And when I tried to run once, only once, it tightened like a red-hot fist crushing my chest until I passed out on the mud, convulsing, while the guards laughed.
But I didn’t die and they wanted me alive.
To them, I was another tool in the pile.
Another product that might be worth something in ten years.