Chapter 14. The goal of survival
Kailen, imprisoned, awaited his punishment. Each day a prisoner was escorted to a chamber; they either returned after an hour or were never seen again. Those deemed worthy of pardon were returned, while others were sentenced to execution.
One day, all the prisoners were taken out of their cells and lined up against the wall.
"Up against the wall, you scum!" a guard shouted, kicking and whipping those who hesitated.
Kailen had grown even thinner. He hadn't eaten in a week, only occasionally drinking the water the guards brought him. He had no strength left to resist, or at least he pretended not to. Once lined up against the wall, they were shackled at the wrists and ankles. A steel chain connected them, linking them into a single chain. This was how they were led out.
They were led down a narrow corridor, then began to climb a set of stairs that were difficult to negotiate. Soon they were led to a square in front of the building, where a flamboyantly dressed man with a scroll stood before them.
"According to the laws of Demacia, you have been convicted of crimes. Due to the nature and severity of your crimes, you are sentenced to ten years of labor in the quarries," the herald read the sentence before rolling up the scroll and leaving.
Ten years in a place like this was essentially a death sentence, only more torturous. Ordinary people wouldn't last more than three years because of the working conditions and lack of food.
A few minutes later, wagons arrived to load the prisoners.
"Hey, Frostborn, that's what they call you, right?" asked a man with a long scar on his face, his eye milky white, suggesting he was blind in that eye. Kailen recognized the voice; he had spoken to him before. It was the smuggler, Bak.
"Yes, those born in the coldest regions," Kailen replied.
"Well, I see you are a warrior. As for me, I'm not much of a fighter, but I'm a master at other things," Bak continued, opening his mouth to reveal a small metal wire.
"Are you planning to escape?" asked an old man sitting nearby. He said it loud enough to attract the attention of the other prisoners.
"Hey, NO TALKING," a guard yelled from the front.
"Shut up, you old fool," Bak hissed at him. "So, can you handle the guards?"
"I can," Kailen replied, estimating the number of guards. Each wagon, and there were two in all, had five soldiers. Two sat in the driver's seat and three walked alongside.
"Great, we'll wait until we reach the middle of the road. Then we'll have more time to get away. Escaping from the mines is impossible; there are more guards there than in the cities, so this is our only chance to survive," Bak whispered.
"I understand," Kailen replied.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on meditating, pushing his body to its limits, using every resource to prepare for the fight. The prisoners around him, who had hung their heads in despair, now felt a spark of hope. They wouldn't die with a pickaxe in their hands or be buried among other corpses.
Demacia was a nation that valued nobility, justice, and honor, but it dealt harshly with those who deviated from its ideals, especially mages and criminals. This system was upheld by the Judicators, an order that rallied around Kayle. She stood for justice and divine retribution. The people, seeing a divine being among them, began to worship her, and soon followers gathered. Morgana was also worshipped, but for different qualities, such as mercy, kindness, and understanding.
In meditation, time passed more quickly, and soon the wagon carrying the prisoners had traveled most of the way.
"Hey, Sub-Zero, it's time to move," Bak whispered, breaking Kailen's meditation.
"I'm ready," he replied confidently.
Meanwhile, Bak spat the small metal lockpick into his hands and began to unlock Kailen's restraints. There was a soft click and the shackles fell from his wrists without attracting the attention of the guards. Carefully holding the shackles to avoid suspicion, Kailen prepared to act. Bak freed his own hands and unlocked several more nearby prisoners before he couldn't do more without drawing attention.
A slow exhale escaped Kailen's lips as the bonds began to fall. With a lightning leap, he aimed to incapacitate the two drivers, who were vulnerable to his attack from behind. Two precise blows to their necks knocked them out instantly. Quickly, Kailen pulled his sword from its scabbard and landed beside the cart. Only then did the guards realize what had happened, such was the speed of his actions.
Kylen lunged at the nearest guard, making a swift charge. He grabbed the guard's breastplate, pulled him close, and plunged his sword into his neck. The guard had no time to realize what was happening before he lost his life.
With seven guards left, Kylen wiped the blood from his sword and considered his next move. The remaining soldiers had managed to form an improvised line across from Kylen, who hesitated for a moment, afraid to make the first move. But their numerical advantage gave them confidence.
They struck first. A quick lunge forward forced the enemy to halt. The first soldier swung his sword in a wide diagonal arc. Kylen's lightning defense and counter left the soldier clutching his bleeding neck as he fell. Another soldier, holding a shield overhead, attempted a horizontal strike. Kylen deftly dodged backwards, then immediately struck from the opposite direction, hitting a vulnerable spot. Another guard approached from behind, but Kylen ducked, letting the sword pass over his head. With a sharp twist, he plunged the sword into the guard's abdomen, between his chest and lower plate armor. The remaining guards lunged at him en masse.
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Dodging their attacks, Kylen created a safe distance to catch his breath.
"Take that, you bastards!" yelled Bak, throwing a chain around one guard and beginning to strangle him. The other prisoners joined in the fight. Eventually, only one guard remained, frozen in shock, staring at his own stomach.
Kylen lunged, plunging his sword into the dying man's belly as he locked eyes with him.
The prisoners finished off the remaining guards, snatching weapons and shields from the fallen. They didn't bother with the armor, as wearing it would slow them down and exhaust anyone not used to it.
"Damn, buddy, you are a monster. I've never seen anyone cut up like that before. Usually it takes three people to handle one soldier," Bak commented, surveying the aftermath of the battle.
"Now we'll face execution if they catch us," someone remarked.
"Well, I don't plan on staying in Demacia anyway. I'll go to the Shurima Desert in Ionia, hang out on the beaches with beautiful women, and come back after a while. They'll have forgotten me by then," Bak said. "Why come back if there's a chance of getting caught again? Simple, for profit. Demacia is currently the only place where you can get a good price for certain goods. Sub-Zero, where are you going?" he asked Kylen.
Kylen gazed thoughtfully to the north, where his home was, and where some of his clan might have survived. But the curse was still unbroken, and he didn't know how to get back. He had to find other possibilities, another source of power, since the previous one was no longer accessible.
"You mentioned Ionia? You have orders there, don't you?" Kylen asked, deciding where to go next. He had heard distant tales of a land where the line between life and spirit was thin, where magic permeated every part of existence.
"Yes, they have a lot of them. Who knows what they do in their monasteries. I've been there a few times, almost lost my life and ended up with this beautiful scar instead. Who knew you couldn't touch the women there," Bak confessed, pointing to his missing eye.
"Then I'll follow you for now. I'll decide my way when we get there," Kylen said.
They couldn't stay here any longer. Eventually they would be pursued, and they would have to fight on the run. They had to get out of here before Raptors were sent after them, making escape impossible. When the prisoners started to follow Bak, he stopped them harshly. "I don't need dead weight on the road. Go your own way. I invited him, not you," he said, pointing his sword menacingly at them.
So Kylen and his new companion headed for the coastal regions. According to Bak, he had some smuggler friends who could help them reach Ionia. Once there, he would stock up on goods and return to sell weapons, supplies, and other items to the rebels. It was now clear why he had been thrown into prison.
Kylen, however, was deep in thought. He knew about Noxus, but their focus on steel and blood, their preaching of war, did not sit well with him. Even the greatest mastery of weapons wouldn't help against gods who controlled the world on a whole other level. He knew little about Ionia and actively questioned his companion.
He learned that Ionia might indeed be the right place for him. Perhaps there he would find a way to regain his former power, or discover an entirely new way to become stronger.
"We're almost there, just a little further to the cave. That's where we keep our ships. It allows us to avoid the rider patrols and to unload and ship goods all over Demacia without being noticed," Bak explained of the location.
"Aren't you afraid to share such information?" Kylen asked.
"With you? Certainly not. We got out of such a mess together that I owe you for life," Bak admitted.
An hour later, they reached an inconspicuous spot that appeared to be nothing more than a small hill. Approaching the stone wall, Bak knocked on it several times, then stepped back, waited a few seconds, and knocked again.
"If that damn Rick is there, I stepped back in case he set a trap. He's not all there," Bak added.
Sensing danger, Kylen yanked Bak back by the collar just as a barrage of spears shot out from where Bak had been standing.
"You damn fool, you almost got me killed! Open that damn barrier so I can knock the last few brain cells out of your empty skull," Bak yelled angrily.
"Bak, is that you?" a voice called from inside.
"YES, open the door before I get even madder," Bak roared, the veins in his face bulging as he clenched his fists.
"But Bak was captured and executed by Demacia," Rick said in surprise.
"You empty-headed fool, how could I be executed when I'm here talking to you?" Bak replied wearily.
"Right, so it is you. I'll open it," Rick said.
"When are they going to relieve him of his post?" Bak muttered.
Soon the stone slab began to slide aside, revealing a passage leading inward.
As soon as the way was clear, Bak rushed in, immediately filling the air with shouts. Kylen smiled at the scene and followed. Inside, Bak grabbed a young man by the shirt and slapped him across the cheeks. The noise brought several people in, dressed in simple shirts and pants, swords at the ready.
"Bak, you're alive," said one of the men with a clean-shaven head.
"Of course I am. I've gotten out of worse situations," Bak replied, throwing Rick to the ground.
"When your crew arrived without you and said you'd been captured, we already said our goodbyes and held a memorial," the bald man said.
"You land rats have already buried me. So my ship is here?" Bak asked.
"Yes, you haven't left yet. We're still loading up Demacian steel to send to Noxus. There's a little war going on there right now; they need good steel," the bald man replied.
"Damn, we'll have to take a detour. Well, a harsh climate and dry weather, with blood and sweat, is much worse than beautiful beaches and exotic girls. Do you agree with this route?" Bak commented on the situation and asked Kylen.
Kylen nodded thoughtfully. "It doesn't matter to me. Ionia is still the goal, no matter the route. Let's get moving before we attract any more attention."
Bak nodded and led the way deeper into the cave, where their escape to Ionia awaited.
"Impressive," the bald man said in surprise.
"Come, Kylen, let me show you my beauty. There's no better ship on the sea than my Vengeance. We're lucky they didn't sail away, otherwise we'd be stuck on another tub," Bak said, continuing to talk excitedly about his ship.
The cave they entered was spacious. There were only three ships docked here, with numerous crates of various equipment lined up along the dock. The entrance to the cave was covered with vegetation, making it hard to tell that there was an entire dock and warehouse inside.
Kylen had his doubts. He realized immediately that he was now part of a crew of smugglers and pirates. Such people usually lacked honor, dignity and moral principles. He had hated them in Freljord and still did, only his self-control and rationality prevented him from killing them all on the spot. But maybe it wasn't all bad, he thought. He had learned that they were mainly involved in smuggling between the warring factions, profiting from both sides. Where there was demand and prohibition, they would be there. But if he found even the slightest hint that they were involved in robbery and violence, he would use his skills to rid the world of them.
"Damn it, Gilbert, show yourself!" Bak yelled as he approached the ship. It was a large ship with two masts. Kylen had never seen a ship before, let alone the sea itself.
A man with a gray beard and a stern face emerged from below deck. "Bak, you old sea dog! I thought you were fish food by now," Gilbert greeted him.
"Not yet, you old bastard. We're setting sail for Ionia. Is everything ready?" Bak asked.
"Ready and waiting. Just give the word," Gilbert replied.
Bak turned to Kylen. "Welcome aboard the Vengeance. Let's get you acquainted with your new home for the next leg of our journey."
Kylen nodded, still cautious but willing to go along for now. He followed Bak and Gilbert, determined to keep his guard up and ready to act if necessary.
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"Captain, is that you?" a man with a scruffy beard called from the top of the ship.
"Let's go aboard," Bak said, climbing up the gangplank. "This ship has survived many battles. By the way, I hope you don't get seasick, or you won't be much of a sailor."
"I don't get seasick," Kylen replied, though he wasn't sure.
"Excellent. This is my first mate, Gilbert, and this is my good friend Sub-Zero," Bak introduced, gesturing to the bearded man who had approached.
"Pleasure to meet you," Gilbert said. Kylen gave a brief nod.
"So, when can we set sail? Is everything ready?" Bak asked.
"Almost ready, just a few final touches. We should be able to leave tomorrow," Gilbert replied.
"Great, I'm sick of this wretched Demacia. I never want to see them again," Bak said.
"Agreed, Captain," his first mate replied.
"Show our friend to his cabin. Give him the best one," Bak instructed.
"Alright, follow me," Gilbert said with a wave.
As they descended the stairs, Kylen noticed the musty smell typical of ships where food often spoiled and the constant dampness created an unpleasant odor. Grimacing slightly, he followed Gilbert into a small room with modest furnishings: a bed and a small bedside table, nothing else.
"Here you go," Gilbert said.
It was better than a dungeon, but not exactly luxurious.
"If you get hungry, go to our cook. He's further down the corridor; you'll find him by the smell," Gilbert advised before leaving.
Before resting, Kylen decided to fill his stomach. The long period of poor nutrition was taking its toll. Following the scent, he found the kitchen and got some food, which, while not great, was considerably better than prison fare. After a modest meal, he returned to his cabin to rest. He assumed a meditative posture and closed his eyes.
As Kylen began to meditate, he focused on clearing his mind and harnessing his inner strength. The ship rocked gently with the waves, a sensation he was beginning to get used to. He could feel the power of his ancestral lineage coursing through him, a reminder of his purpose and the path ahead. The journey to Ionia was not just about escape, but a quest for new power and knowledge. He needed to be ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.
In the silence of his meditation, Kylen felt a deep resolve settle within him. He would find what he needed on Ionia, and nothing would stand in his way.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone