Rise of Yahunyens: Origin

Episode 11: Freely Slaved

The barrier crumbled beneath the relentless onslaught of the dragons' energy blasts, Griswa's gaze flickered with recognition. Though he possessed intimate knowledge of the dragons' true nature, he chose to conceal his understanding and guard his secrets amidst the tumult, his silence shielding against any premature revelation.

Without hesitation, Sivera seized the opportunity presented by the breach. "Follow my lead," he commanded, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos. "We must evade our pursuers." With a decisive gesture, he urged his dragon forward, leading the group in a daring escape through the fractured barrier.

Meanwhile, on the Yahunyen side of the conflict, vigilant soldiers standing on guard on the watch towers, swiftly relayed news of the breach to their prince, Walith Ehasor. A soldier activated his communication device, a holographic projection materializing before him. "Your Highness," he reported respectfully, "the intruders have penetrated the barrier."

On the holographic display, Walith's image materialized, a grotesque parody of nobility. His bloated cheeks sagged beneath a crown of messy curls, reminiscent of a fat, disgusting pig wallowing in luxury. Clad in fancy attire, he seemed more suited to a banquet hall than a battlefield, yet his posture exuded a lazy arrogance that belied his station.

His face, a portrait of excess and indulgence, betrayed a lack of discipline and refinement. Despite his royal trappings, there was an undeniable slovenliness to his appearance, as if he had never known the meaning of restraint. And when he deigned to speak, his words dripped with a condescending superiority, as if he believed himself superior to all who dared to address him.

"Keep an eye on them. I'm on my way, and Father has sent me something special. It's time to put it to the test." With a cringeworthy laugh that echoed through the room, he terminated the call, leaving his subordinates to carry out his orders.

In the dim light of the command center, his image flickered with an air of disdain, casting a shadow of contempt over those who served under him. It was a stark reminder of the decadence and decay that had seeped into the heart of the Yahunyen empire, an indication of the rot that festered beneath the veneer of royalty.

Back amidst the action, Sivera swiftly organized the group, his directives clear and concise. "Secure water," he commanded, his tone authoritative yet measured. "It is needed more." As the designated members, Aelodor, Daryan, Olemith, Risanji, Elemdar, Raazman and Syran dispersed to fulfill their task, Sivera turned to the remaining companions, his gaze penetrating yet understanding. "Remain close," he advised, his words a reassurance in uncertain times.

At a high speed of 2000 kilometres per hour, thanks to the gravity belts which Sivera taught the kids how to use. By adjusting the dial in the middle, they followed his lead. Yesdar and Malaes thoroughly enjoyed such a high speed that messed up their already messed up hairstyles while Griswa already knew what these dragons were capable of and wasn't too amazed. Sivera stopped at certain intervals to understand their location to proceed further because when driving at excessive speeds, objects and buildings became blurred and indistinct as they quickly passed by, diminishing visibility.

"Stay with me, children," Sivera urged, his voice a quiet yet firm command. "We shall procure what we need and depart swiftly." And as they navigated the crowded streets of the market district, they remained vigilant, mindful of the dangers lurking in the shadows of their pursuit.

Venturing into the designated area reserved for Mackenasians who were freely slaved, Sivera led the way with determined steps, his demeanor reflecting focused resolve. Rahl followed closely behind, his expression somber yet steadfast. The children, Malaes, Griswa, and Yesdar, trailed after them, their gazes darting about with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.