United they Rise: The Cubes of Destiny Book 2

The air was thick with dust and the ground was rocky; loose dirt and shale made walking challenging. Everything in the mine was dirty, especially the miners. There was not an inch of this place that was clean. Most of the miners here got used to it and only the newcomers complained. This was a slave operation and no one wanted to be here, not even the guards. This was where King Nizam XIII sent people he never wanted to see again, including the guards. The guards did a good job for fear of becoming a slave themselves. The mine was far from the capital city’s oasis, in the rocky foothills, on the edge of the desert. Many slaves died of thirst and exposure trying to escape across the desert.
There were human slaves, taken from pirate ships off the coast. There were orc slaves taken during raids on the neighbouring continent. Then there were Horun slaves. The most notable thing about these slaves was their lack of wings. When a Horun was sentenced to the mine, it was for serious crimes and ones’ family often shared their punishment. And part of that punishment was to have the one thing that made them truly, uniquely Horun removed; their wings.
Not all slaves were miners. Some were cooks, some were cleaners, and some sorted the ore. One worker, called Tenen, was a young Horun that delivered food to the workers. To be honest, it was slop; it was a thin gruel made of boiled grains, a few leftover vegetables and if they were lucky, a piece of meat accidentally fell in the pot. Due to the nature of this food, the miners were thin and many died of illnesses. The food the guards received wasn’t a lot better. Most were here because of behavioral problems, such as taking bribes.
Tenen set about pushing his cart that contained a large canister for serving the slop from. He started early in the day and by midday he would come across his favourite person to talk to: Sem. Tenen had only been in the mines for a little over two years and Sem was a miner who had been there for a lot longer. Over the years, Tenen and Sem had become friends. More than friends, Sem was like a big brother to Tenen. Sem was a calming influence, while Tenen’s sister was a rabble-rouser.
When arriving where Sem and some other miners were, Tenen stopped his cart and started to ladle out slop into the waiting bowls extended at the ends of dirty arms. Once the crowd dissipated, Tenen called out for Sem to come and get his share. Sem always waited to be last. This gave Tenen a decent opportunity to talk to him.
“Sem, I got your food,” Tenen called out. This was the best part of his day, and the only joy he got in this hole. Sem always had time for him and didn’t mind all the questions. Sem was tall, with brown and white striped feathers whereas Tenen had reddish brown feathers. Sem looked as though he had had a good physique in the past but life in the mine had made him thinner. His parrot-like nose suggested he had fallen from a noble family. Tenen’s nose was similar to that of a hawk.
“Have you found anything interesting while digging, Sem?” Tenen always asked Sem about any special finds.
“I keep telling you, Tenen, there is nothing but rocks and sometimes gold nuggets down here. You're not going to find any artifacts buried this deep in the ground,” Sem told Tenen. Sem was about sixteen years older, though Tenen wasn’t sure when his own birthday was or his exact age. He had forgotten because there was no reason to remember here. Before arriving in the mines, he had been well groomed and looked like an average citizen but now he was like all the other slaves. Dirty and skinny.
Tenen filled Sem’s bowl with the slop. Sem accepted and quickly ate the food. Before Tenen could talk to Sem any further, a guard barked at him to get back to work. Disobeying the guards would get him a beating. He quickly moved on with the food cart until he got to the location where his sister, Raleema, was working. The guard followed him to make sure he made no further unscheduled stops.
Seeing the guard following Tenen, Raleema knew that the boy had dallied too long with Sem. Again. The miners in her area collected their food. Raleema waited until they were gone to speak to her brother.
“Tenen, I told you not to talk to Sem,” Raleema scolded him. “That one has given up on life. He is not worth talking to. You would be better off not having any more conversations with him. He would have you give up fighting and be a slave forever.”
Tenen looked down at the ground. His sister looked a lot like him; reddish feathers, hawk-like nose, but her temperament was spicier. Nobody messed with his sister.
“But Raleema,” he moaned, “I just want to talk to my friend. How can you say that is a bad thing? He’s just trying to survive like the rest of us.”
Raleema bent down and hugged Tenen. “Oh, little brother, I wish I could make you understand. We can’t afford to have the wrong friends in this place. Too many would sell you out to the guards for a crust of bread. We need the right people to join together to overthrow the Pharaoh. Until then, friendship with him will get in your way.”
“I understand, Raleema, but I don’t like it,” Tenen admitted. Raleema straightened up; she would have been considered beautiful, if she wasn’t covered in dirt. Her time in the mine had dulled her feathers and robbed her of her smile. She patted Tenen on the head, which he hated, and told him to continue his work.