Sett lay hanging by his hands from a pillar of punishment, his arms pulled over his head. He shifted in and out of consciousness, the pain barely noticeable. His bare back and chest pulsed a sinister red, weals of pain from the countless lashings. Blood dripped from his parched lips, sliding off his limp feet on its way down.

  On the pillars next to him hung Brec and Bone, both in the same condition. They had been hanging for over a day by now, strung up after many hours of relentless flogging. Sett scarcely had the energy to glance up at his friends, his mind too drained to form a thought.

  Scarred lip stood guard over them the entire time. Sett wondered if he ever ate, or if the torment he inflicted was enough to sustain him. The Alfen would make snide comments and jeers from time to time, but Sett didn’t register any of it.

  His consciousness slipped again, and when it returned he found himself dropping onto the floor. He fell face first, too exhausted to process the pain from the impact. He heard Brec and Bone being dropped too, he was glad their torture was over.

  “Get up and go back on your own. If you lay here for too long you’ll hang again,” a voice that did not belong to scarred lip instructed. Sett heard footsteps retreat, and forced his head up. He saw Brec push himself to all fours with incredible effort, crawling his way to his brother. Sett followed, willing his legs to hold him upright. His injured leg was stiff, unable to be bent. Sett still managed to get on his feet, and staggered his way to Bone.

  “Bone? Bone, wake up, man. We need to go back,” Sett heard Brec’s hoarse voice mumble to his brother as he approached, and a bad feeling overcame him. He moved faster, tripping and falling in front of the Throhs. Brec didn’t look up.

  “Bone? Hey man, wake up.” Sett croaked, slapping his cheeks with whatever energy he could muster. Bone didn’t move.

  Brec, with a hand on his brother’s cheek, looked up at Sett with pleading eyes that begged for a sign of hope.

  “Se-Sett. Hi-his face. It’s cold. It’s to-too cold,” Brec mumbled, his voice breaking and eyes filling with tears.

  Sett placed a hand on Bone’s neck, the cold sending despair to his very soul. His fingers anxiously checked for a pulse, any sign of life. He found none.

  His hand dropped to the ground limp, and he glanced at the other Throh. Brec understood, his head dropping onto Bone’s lifeless chest. An agonising wail escaped the boy’s mouth, tears streaming down his brother’s body. Sett stared into nothing, his eyes as empty as Bone’s. The starry expanse of space lay above them, unmoved by Brec’s anguished screams.

  The cries attracted a pair of guards, who shoved the two grieving boys out of the way. Sett collapsed next to Brec, who hadn’t stopped crying. They examined the body and proceeded to drag it away. Brec rolled to his chest and held an arm out, his eyes pleading for his brother’s body.

  “He’s dead. Get lost, wretch. Leave if you don’t want to join him.”

  Neither of them had the energy to go after them, and they could only watch as the limp body of Bone Throh disappeared down the stairs.

  Sett forced his mind back to the present, cognisant of their situation. He put a hand on Brec’s back, and whispered, “We need to go now, man. He’d want you to live. We’ll die if we stay here. Please.”

  Brec’s wails continued like he hadn’t heard, but they slowly reduced to a sob. He put his forehead to the ground, shaking in sorrow. Sett forced himself to his feet, bending over to put his arms around the trembling boy. He pulled, but his strength was scarcely enough to support himself, let alone Brec. The kid understood, however, and slowly pushed himself up. He had stopped sobbing, his eyes devoid of any life. Sett recognised the look. He was the same, and if it weren’t for Croh he’d have resigned himself to death long ago.

  He guided Brec by the shoulder, his limp leg dragging behind him. His friend followed without resistance, not once looking up.

  They stumbled their way up the stairs, barely making it into the cavern. Sett barely noticed the curious eyes turning to them, and the duo collapsed to the ground the moment they stepped in.

  ****

  Sett woke up from a nightmare where he was burying the lifeless corpses of Bone, Thane, uncle Tecc, his brother and father in their family’s farm on Mupnal. The vivid feeling of soil parting under him and the weight of their bodies still filled his mind.

  His body ached all over, and his throat was parched. Brec lay next to him, still as a corpse. Sett noticed his eyes were open, staring into nothingness. Someone had placed two wheat balls near the two while they lay there, and Sett was thankful for the gesture.

  He was awake when everyone else was asleep again, and he forced himself to crawl to the pond. His shirt had been ripped apart by the assault, though he had long since hidden the flesh repairing pill in his pants. His bare skin dragging against the coarse ground agitated the whip scars, but he endured.

  The drink of water felt like divine nectar, the cold water breathing life into his throat. He dunked his head whole into the pond, laying there as his breath slowly left him. He half intended to lay there till he died, but dragged his head out at the last minute, gasping for air. The cold water trickled down his body, easing the tender skin.

  Bone Throh was gone. The soft spoken boy had been with Sett since childhood, a kind kid with ambitions of helping his family. He stared at the ceiling, cursing the rock which took his brother away.

  He could almost see the scarred lip grinning down at him, causing fury to slam against the walls of his mind. He felt just as helpless as when his uncle and his mentor were mercilessly killed in front of him, but he knew this was different. I can kill him. He’s the same grade as me. I can avenge Bone.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Sett resolved himself, a seed of a plan slowly forming in his mind.

  ****

  Sett made his way through the drift to the mining stope they worked in. Brec walked beside him, every ounce of life missing in his movements. Sett had to drag him up and feed him to make sure he survived. The boy hadn’t spoken a word since they made it back to the cavern a day ago.

  Sett’s fist tightened in rage when he spotted a smirking face waiting in the stope. It took all his willpower not to rip the man to shreds.

  “You’re still alive? I heard the other one croaked in just a day of punishment. I’m glad you still made it,” scarred lip jeered.

  Sett took a deep breath, forcing his hand still. Brec seemed to have not even registered the words, mechanically walking to a mining spot and grabbing a pickaxe. Sett followed, refusing to make eye contact with the taunting look thrown his way. He knew today would be a test of willpower.

  He picked at the ore carefully, taking care not to lose himself. With every strike he saw Bone’s corpse, and he felt his Ether churn. Whenever he felt himself on the edge of control, he glanced at Brec. The boy swung his pick lifelessly, not an ounce of rage in his strikes. A part of Brec was lost, a part that held any hope. Sett felt like he lost both brothers at once. Another part of him, fueled by a clinical sense of purpose and barely contained rage, made a judgement. He won’t be any help in killing scarred lip.

  The mining session ended without incident, even scarred lip refraining from too many provocations. Sett walked back to the cavern with an arm around Brec but otherwise lost for words.

  ****

  Sett rushed to the crushers for the next day’s assignment. Brec wasn’t included in the group sent, instead being sent for food transport. Sett was worried about his friend, but he wasn’t able to follow. Besides, he needed to talk to Taban.

  He met the Alfen in the crusher room and motioned to one of the hammers, implying they’d be working on loading and unloading the ore into the machine.

  “Where are the twins?”

  Sett’s words got caught in his mouth for a moment, unable to properly say what happened.

  “Brec has another assignment. Bone…”

  Taban understood immediately, his eyes falling in sorrow. “I liked the kid. The mine takes what it wants. I feel your loss,” he spoke solemnly as he placed a hand on Sett’s chest.

  Sett was confused for a moment, but understood. “Thank you.”

  They began work in silence, Sett unable to bring up what he wanted to say.

  “I want the scarred lipped guard dead.” Sett finally blurted.

  Tavan paused what he was doing and looked up at him with a serious expression.

  “That will be dangerous.”

  “I know.”

  “The guards are stronger than you think. Don’t be fooled by their grade.”

  “I’m strong enough.”

  “You can’t fight them all.”

  “I won’t have to.”

  Taban raised an eyebrow, expecting Sett to continue.

  “I have a plan. I’ll need your help.”

  Taban sighed, and threw a large piece of ore into the hammer.

  “I don’t intend to hang from a pillar of punishment. Or die. I have tasks to do if I ever go home.”

  “Please. I’ll make sure you won’t die. Even if you hang, it won’t be for long.”

  Taban sighed again as he threw his head back and stared at the ceiling.

  “Fine. What’s your plan? I’ll decide after that.”

  ****

  Sett hurried back to his chambers, anxious about Brec. He found the boy sitting against a wall, the same vacant expression on his face. He was holding a wheat ball in his hand which, though uneaten, gave Sett a little hope that he might survive.

  Taban had initially opposed Sett’s reckless idea, but with a little workshopping they’d refined it into something manageable. He would have preferred to recruit a few more people into his assassination plot, but he wasn’t close enough to anyone else to risk it.

  He grabbed a ball himself and, after a drink from the pond, sat himself down beside Brec. His friend let his head drop to the side, resting it on Sett’s shoulder. Sett leaned his head against Brec’s, and the two sat there in shared grief.

  They didn’t move until a whole night later, when the food came the next day. Sett had made sure to feed Brec, both last night and in the morning, before they split up for their duties. Neither of them had spoken a word to each other, and they didn’t need to right now.

  ****

  Sett let go of the handle and stepped back from the wheel that powered the crusher. The next shift had arrived, and he joined Taban through the tunnels and out the adit.

  The two didn’t speak a word the whole journey, everything that needed to be said had been debated and discussed over the past two months. They both walked up the steps resolutely, ready as they can be for the day for action around the corner.

  Taban and he had observed every tunnel, every drift, chamber and guard they came across in their duties. They spent the past two months studying the routines, maps, and functioning of these three levels of the mine, and now they knew it better than even the guards.

  “I hope I see you again, man. If they don’t kill us.”

  “They will not, because they won’t know. I will see you later.”

  Sett nodded, and walked up to his adit with purpose. The chamber was mostly empty, with the majority called up to dig stopes near the new hole that was drilled. Brec was in that group, and they were due to return soon.

  Brec still carried that look of lifelessness in his eyes, mechanically going through the motions, although he had begun talking again. Not full conversations, but Sett was glad to hear his voice. He hadn’t once shown a reaction to scarred lip, any rage that should’ve been there consumed by despair.

  Sett sat down against a wall, and closed his eyes. He felt comfort in the hard rock pressing against his bare back, which remained unclothed since the day his shirt had been ripped into bits. He kept his eyes closed until he heard movement around him, nodding to Brec who had just walked in.

  He looked haggard, exhaustion forcing its way through lifelessness. Sett wanted to tell him his plan, assure him of revenge, but he didn’t. Brec would see it tomorrow.

  They sat there and ate in silence through the night, neither of them sleeping. Brec had decided to lie down at some point, but Sett was awake and focused. He let the Ether churn in his body, as the rage was brought to the forefront. He let it simmer in the dark, imagining the face of everyone he had lost. The faces of those who took from him, and the first debt that would be paid.