Into the Gilded Walls

Chapter Five

Gilian tried to keep whatever hopes he had left up. He got a real bed, better food… the water might've been bitter but it was still water. Yes, he might've been risking his life with every swing of the pickaxe, but… Gilian sighed, he couldn't think of something good that came out of it. The ore he was mining would be used to destroy his people. So, he wasn't helping anyone but the Ra'aven. Valri's constant cursing didn't help the depressed cloud that hung over him.

He saw a red flash, and his nerves grew. He had to be careful now, or he, his friend, and this small cave would blow up. He chiseled slightly around it, then tried to pry it out. He grew slightly sweaty as it shifted, then came free. The raw, explosive ore now held in his very own hands.

“Ah, careful.” The tall Ra'aven guard hissed, walking up to him. “you could blow the place up with that.”

“I'm sure he's aware of that.” Valri scoffed, and she got slapped across her cheek with the back of the creature’s scaly, talon-like hands.

“Don't speak back to me, girl.” it sneered. Gilian slightly shook his head at her when she made eye contact with him, motioning that she shouldn't get into trouble. She sighed, scowled slightly, then went back to mining her own section in the wall.

“Okay, lemme see that.” The Ra'aven took the ore out of Gilian's hand and hummed thoughtfully.

“A'ight, back to work.” Gilian didn't argue, he knew what would happen if he did. It happened to Valri much too often. Gilian picked up his pickaxe once more, arms aching, hands blistered. That wasn't anything new. But it almost seemed worse. And while he was sweating, the temperature was low. He couldn't wait to get back to his small room.

There he had a blanket, a bed. Even a pillow. Gilian, honestly, was surprised. He didn't think the Ra'aven would let their slaves sleep on beds. When he was in the fishing village, he got the floor. The sudden change was a bit startling to say the least.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Valri wince again. She'd been doing so for the last few days. Gilian wanted to ask, but he just figured she wasn't used to this kind of work, so he tried not to worry himself too much about it.

As he worked, his gaze shifted to his friend. Instead of a dress, she had a blouse and breeches. Her hair was tangled, dirty, and her face smeared with dirt and dust. Again, her eyes were dull, barely any fire left in them. He liked that fire, it gave him hope. Gilian wished he could do something, anything to help her.

There was a faint horn calling in the distance, and Gilian dared a smile. Finally, the shift was over. He set the pickaxe down and stretched.

“C'mon, rwa'ch, hurry up and scamper outta here.” Gilian gratefully walked out of the small cave, down the corridor. He would get supper in his room. It was a type of stew that had bread on the side. That was another thing, this was more food than he got when he worked at his home village. The mines were supposed to be miserable and hopeless. Yet he got warm food and a bed.

“Ah, it'll be nice, going to bed… the soft pillow… an actual blanket…” Gilian trailed off when he saw his friend's expression. It was confused, her brow furrowed.

“Pillow? Blankets? What are you talking about, Gilian?” her voice was so… weak. Gilian’s heart ached with empathy, he wanted to take the sorrow from her.

“Do you… not get a bed?”

“You get a bed?”

Gilian's brow furrowed, and he stopped walking to look at Valri, “what do you sleep on?”

“The ground. Where else? I'm not a nasty verkai, I can't hang upside down on the ceiling, or on the stalactites.”

The ground… Gilian was confused. Why did he get a bed? The Ra'aven never favored anybody.

“Great, just great! I bet you don't get whipped. Must be nice. And real food.” Valri crossed her arms and glared at him.

“Wait, what?” That tore his heart. Yes, it wasn't uncommon to be whipped when you were a slave, but Gilian didn't get touched at all with the whip. And Valri was?

“Does everyone else…” he trailed off.

“Yes! We all sleep in this crowded room, with no blankets, a scrap of food, and we have very strict rules. You can't even look at a Ra'aven without getting dr’aki.”

Everyone else had to… Gilian had to lean on the wall, he felt dizzy. He put a hand to his forehead, and tried to calm down.

“I… had no idea...” he murmured as he tried to steady himself. The news had hit him hard. Valri saw this, and lowered her arms, her face softening. She sighed and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It's… Not fair…”

It might've been my fault…” she murmured.

“Your fault?” Gilian's voice was still a mumble.

“I told the Ra'aven that I was in charge of the escape, that I dragged you along. I told them he didn't deserve to be tortured for something I did…” she sighed, “i shouldn't be complaining… I should be thankful at least one of us gets treated well…” she started to walk off, hugging her arms to herself, head down.

Gilian sank to the ground, back against the cold stone walls. He had thought everyone had eaten just as well as he did. That everyone slept as well as he did. He hugged his knees to chest. A Ra'aven walked past him, not paying any attention to the boy.

He didn't deserve it? No, no one deserved it. His head fell onto his arms as he tried to process everything.

These people needed to be helped… they needed to be free of the claws of the Ra'aven. Gilian didn't know how he would do it, but he was going to rescue them. He felt it. He knew it. He didn't know how he did, but he did.

He took a deep breath as he stood up. He wasn't going to stay in these mines. He couldn't lose hope. He'd figure a way out, and he'd save these people. Every last one.