Capítulo 5: 4- A Cry for Liberation
Chapter 4: A Cry for Liberation
(Hello everyone, I have a feeling I have cooked great in this chapter, do read and give reviews, on my personal judgement, this chapter couldn't have turned out better, if you do like it please leave reviews😁😁😁)
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The sun hung low in the sky over Valyria, casting its golden rays on the grand city's towering spires. Below the dragonlords' lofty estates, the streets bustled with the sounds of daily life—the clattering of carts, the chatter of merchants, and the occasional growl of a dragon soaring overhead. But underneath that surface, in the shadows of Valyria's grandeur, lay the true heart of the empire—the slaves.
Among the thousands of oppressed souls who toiled endlessly was a young girl named Aria. Thin and frail, her once-innocent eyes were now dulled by years of hunger and brutality. Her skin bore the marks of whips and beatings, but it was her spirit that had been most ravaged by the years of servitude. She had never known a life without chains, without the harsh lash of a master's command. For as long as she could remember, her world had been filled with suffering.
This day was no different.
Aria moved slowly through the crowded slave quarters, carrying a heavy jug of water meant for one of the noble houses. Her arms ached, her legs wobbled beneath her, but she pressed on. To falter, to fail, would mean punishment—a lashing at best, or death at worst. She had seen it happen too many times to others like her.
As she turned a corner, lost in the haze of exhaustion, her foot caught on a stone. She stumbled forward, and before she could catch herself, the heavy jug slipped from her grasp. Time seemed to slow as she watched it fall, the water splashing out before the jug itself shattered into a hundred pieces on the stone path.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then came the booming voice of a noble, his face twisted in fury. "You clumsy little wretch!" he spat, his fine robes now spattered with water. His voice echoed through the narrow streets, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. "Do you know what these robes cost, you worthless slave?"
Aria dropped to her knees, trembling, her head bowed in submission. "I'm sorry, master," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, I didn't mean to—"
"Sorry?" the noble sneered, his face contorted in rage. "You think 'sorry' will fix this?" He turned to the nearest jailer, a hulking man with a whip coiled at his side. "Teach this one a lesson. No mercy."
The jailer's face lit up at the command. He was a man who enjoyed his work—inflicting pain was his art, and he had perfected it over the years. He uncoiled his whip slowly, the cruel leather gleaming in the sunlight as he stepped toward Aria.
The young girl's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the ground. She could hear the jailer's heavy footsteps approaching, could feel the weight of impending doom pressing down on her. This was it. This was the end.
As the jailer raised his whip, Aria's mind raced, flashes of her life passing before her eyes. She saw her mother's face, remembered her voice—soft, soothing, filled with stories of the old gods, of legends long forgotten.
There had been one story her mother had always returned to, a tale that had given Aria comfort in the darkest moments of her childhood—the story of the Sun God, Luffy. A god of freedom, of hope, of joy. Her mother had whispered that, one day, the Sun God would come to free the oppressed, to bring light to the darkest corners of the world. But as the years passed, as Aria grew older and the chains of slavery tightened around her, the stories had seemed like nothing more than a distant dream.
And yet, in this moment, with death looming over her, she found herself whispering a prayer—a desperate plea, a final hope.
"Sun God," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Luffy… if you can hear me… please… save me."
Her voice cracked, her heart breaking as she cried out, her words trembling with desperation. Tears fell from her eyes, her body trembling with fear and exhaustion. She had no reason to believe anyone would answer, no reason to hope that a god would hear the plea of a lowly slave.
But still, she prayed. She prayed because it was all she had left.
The jailer's whip cracked in the air, a sound that sent shivers down the spines of the other slaves who had stopped to watch the scene unfold. The nobleman smirked, his arms crossed as he awaited the inevitable punishment. The other slaves kept their eyes low, too afraid to interfere, too accustomed to such brutality to dare hope for change.
As the jailer raised the whip again, preparing to strike, something strange began to happen. The air around them grew warmer—not the comforting warmth of a summer day, but an oppressive, stifling heat. The kind of heat that made the air shimmer and the skin prickle.
The jailer hesitated, glancing up at the sky, his brow furrowing in confusion. The sun, which had been hanging low in the sky, suddenly flared brighter, its light becoming almost blinding. A strange silence fell over the streets of Valyria, broken only by the distant rustling of wind.
"What… what is this?" the noble stammered, his voice no longer filled with the same confidence. He squinted up at the sun, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.
The other slaves, too, began to look up, their expressions a mix of fear and confusion. The oppressive heat bore down on them, and the sun's light grew harsher, more intense, as if it was burning with a new, terrible energy.
Far above the mortal world, beyond the clouds, beyond the stars, something stirred. In the heart of the sun itself, a presence began to awaken—a presence that had slumbered for centuries, undisturbed, waiting for the right moment to rise once more.
Luffy, the Sun God, opened his eyes.
At first, there was confusion. To a god, time was a fluid thing, and the centuries he had slept had passed in the blink of an eye. But as his awareness expanded, as he stretched out his senses, he felt it—the cry. A desperate, heart-wrenching plea from the depths of the earth. A voice filled with sorrow and fear, with a longing for freedom.
Aria's voice.
The Sun God's mind sharpened, his ancient memory stirring as he felt the weight of the world's suffering pressing in on him. His golden eyes blazed as he became attuned to the cries of the oppressed, the desperate prayers of those who had been bound in chains for far too long.
Valyria.
The name of the city echoed in his mind, filling him with a cold, righteous fury. He could feel the weight of the empire's sins—the cruelty, the greed, the oppression that had festered in its heart for so long. And now, at last, someone had called to him. A single voice, but one that carried the weight of thousands, of millions.
A voice that had pulled him from his slumber.
In the mortal world, the heat from the sun became unbearable. The nobleman stumbled back, his face pale as fear gripped his heart. The jailer's whip hung limply at his side, forgotten as he, too, stared up at the sky.
And then, they heard it.
A sound, distant at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. A deep, resonant thrum that seemed to pulse through the very air, through the earth itself.
The Drums of Liberation.
The ancient, mythic sound echoed across the city, reverberating through the stone streets and the towering spires. It was a sound that had been spoken of only in legend, a sound that signaled the coming of the Sun God. The sound filled the air, growing louder, more insistent, as if the very heartbeat of the world had shifted.
Panic spread through the streets of Valyria. The nobles, once so confident in their power, began to tremble. The older ones, those who had studied the ancient texts, knew what this meant. The Sun God was awakening, and with him came the promise of destruction—of liberation for the oppressed, and judgment for the wicked.
In the sky, the sun blazed brighter than ever, casting a golden light that bathed the city in an eerie glow. The flames of the sun flickered, and in their midst, the faint outline of a figure began to take shape—a figure of immense power, radiating with the heat of a thousand suns.
Luffy, the Sun God, had awakened. And Valyria would never be the same again.
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Estado de energía semanal
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