The Druid Wielder

Chapter 15

"What did you get?" The voice interrupted my empty mind.

"A rare sword." Another voice chimed in.

"How'd you get away with that?"

Who were all of these voices? I found myself fidgeting. Their voices sounded like distant echoes. I couldn't tell if they were real or a dream.

"What about the girl?"

The voices faded away. Slowly I became aware. I peeked open an eye. I found myself struggling to sit up. I looked over and noticed ropes tied around my hands and a bed that I lay on. I struggled for a while but immediately stopped when footsteps approached. An older girl walked in wearing a white uniform. She said nothing as she found herself busy with medical tools around me. I watched her for a minute.

"Excuse me. Where am I? Who are you?"

She ignored me.

"I demand you tell me where I am," I shouted angrily at her.

"Shhh." The girl put her fingers to her lips and got incredibly close. "You are a slave now, and you best behave now, or you might get yourself killed." She walked over to me and peeled a bandage away from my arm, revealing a long dark bruise. I scowled at it.

"You dislocated it, but it should feel better now." She gently rubbed some sticky ointment on the bruise. It was still very sore.

"There." She said as she finished wrapping my arm with new cloth. "I will come back later to check on you." She swung around and went to leave.

"Wait! What about my fellow mates I was with? What about them? What have they done with them?" I spoke up. Again she put her finger to her lips. She strutted back to me.

"I know you must have questions now, but I can not answer them."

There was one question she didn't have to answer for me. I could tell where I was just by spotting the small tattoo on her collarbone. It read sixty-seven. It was the only group I knew that branded people as numbers. The mark belonged to a the rumored destroyed slave organization, the Blood Brothers. It was formed by two brothers, who were said to be the best fighters a couple of decades back. I remember my brother telling me they were very particular with who they took into their group. So why was I here? Were they going to turn me over to the king, since I was, after all, part of the assassin gang?

"Look, do you want to live?" She whispered.

Why wouldn't I?

"Yes."

"Then do whatever they tell you to do. Listen to their advice and do not draw too much attention. Ok? That is all the advice I can give now."

I could hear voices coming from behind the tent's sheets. The woman squeezed my hand slightly and disappeared.

A minute later two men entered. They wore clothing that was similar to what my brothers wore. Laced lined button-up jackets, and of course shiny black shoes to top it off. They must be the slave traders that ran this whole thing.

My gaze froze upon seeing their faces. Both of them had the whitest hair I had ever seen. Whiter than any cloud I had ever laid eyes on, by far. How was that possible? They were both fairly young, perhaps as old or a little older than Akyto, my oldest brother.

"Our nurse says you recovered. So we will have you start your training tomorrow." The tallest of the two, with hair pulled back into a bun, told me.

"This recovery has been too long for businessmen such as ourselves." The other man wore his wavy hair down. It brushed against my skin as he passed by.