Chapter 2. The smoky inn reeked of stale vomit and blood as foolish men day in, day out, put their bodies on the line against a man with seemingly infinite lives; a man born to fight, to survive in a world where there were no rules and that everything goes, where there are no friends, only foes. The stalkers were the stalked, and the hunters were the hunted. This was the life of Power. Power was extremely muscled. He wore a light smock underneath a black leather vest that was open in the front, revealing a huge chest and a well toned abdomen. He had loose fitting trousers that reach just past his knees to stop before a pair of intricately fashioned leather boots. His face was rugged with stubble, and his glossy hazel coloured hair had been cut short. He lived in the tempestuous rocky mountains, north of the tiny mining town, Oiy. His cosy cottage lay well concealed among the hardwood tress and was patrolled by his pets - the local snow wolves. A challenge had lured him to the inn once more. He sat at a dirty old table in a dark corner of the room with a mug of alcohol, watching closely, the crowd mingling amongst themselves. He wasn’t sure who he was supposed be looking out for. He’d never met the challenger before and didn’t quite know what to expect. Often times, it was someone he least expected - a waitress, a supposedly blind beggar. Caution was required. The entrance of a hooded person caught his eye. This person didn’t seem to be of any great build, and didn’t look to be of any threat. His face was concealed by the shadow of a dark navy hood, that was attached to a long cape of the same colour. Underneath the cape, the individual wore a dark red jacket, belted with brown leather. He had average brown trousers above ankle - high snake - skin shoes. ‘I’m looking for a man named Power.’ the person said to the bar maid. ‘I don’t know any one by the name of Power.’ the maid replied. The mysterious person grabbed the bar tender by the neck, pinning her body to the counter ‘Don’t annoy me! I’m not in the mood. Tell me where I can find Power!’ This was his cue. Power slammed his mug down, it’s contents splashing everywhere, and proceeded with a cocky grin on his face, to the bar. Ambushed. A group of five people came up from behind, tackling the big man to the floor. The hooded leader soon joined the flurry. Power struggled, but couldn’t move. A hush fell over the few drunks that were there. ‘Well done men.’ the leader congratulated, dropping to the floor. ‘Okay Power, down to business.’ He grabbed the fallen champion by the hair. Removing his hood, the gallant leader - Power found to his horror - was a woman. Her bright blonde hair matched her yellow feline like eyes as she knelt over her prey like a scavenger. With the men pilled up on top of him, he powered back up to a vertical base, much to the lady’s displeasure. Grabbing hold of anything they could, Power’s opponents tried desperately to beat him back to the ground. They were unsuccessful. With a sudden surge of power, he broke free of the confining grip, sending the men flying threw the air into tables and chairs, smashing them to splinters, scaring away the remaining customers. As each recovered, Power drove them back hard. One man charged with a fractured chair leg. A flick of the wrist dismissed him unconditionally. Another antagonist off loaded with a series of punches, each connecting, though, with no effect. The warrior seized him by the neck, lifted him into the air, and smashed him though another unfallen table near by. Two other attackers got their heads rammed together, and another was launched though the inn’s wooden walls. It was he and the woman now. Breathing heavily, Power cracked his knuckles and warmed up his neck. With clenched fists, he approached. The women raised a hand. It and her eyes flashed a bright red. This was unexpected. Magic. Using trickery in a duel, Power believed was a form of cheating. The mass of muscle, that was Power’s body, ceased up. Finally conquered, he dropped to the ground. ‘Nice try peasant.’ she insulted. ‘But you must realise, I am undefeated in combat.’ Power struggled and struggled to break free of her magical grip. ‘Settle down. You have no chance of getting away. Let me introduce myself. You may call me Chaos.’ She then went on to explain what she was, and why she was there. ‘I have been instructed by my Master to capture you, and to deliver you to a certain someone by any means necessary. Unfortunately though, we’ll be taking a little detour.’ He was then levitated of the floor and back onto his feet. ‘What does your Master want of me?’ Power asked. ‘You’ll have to ask him yourself.’ she answered. With a wicked grin, she lead the defeated soldier of pain, outside to her horse. A second horse had been tied to hers. ‘Sorry about this.’ Chaos lied, ‘Travelling is easier if your limp.’ The world as Power saw it slowly faded to black as he was struck heavily with a solid metal rod, knocking him out stone cold. * * * Power would be struck once more, each time he awoke. The aching blows forced him blind, as was sometimes the case with terrible headaches. He was aware of everything that was happening around him. He was draped uncomfortably across the horses back like a corpse. The blood ran to his head causing an unbearable throbbing. The days went by like seconds, journeying from town to town. So to, did the weather change with each passing moment, nevertheless they continued onward. Days soon became weeks. Feeling had since been long lost in the back of his head. It had swelled up viciously, bleeding often. The weather eventually heated up, burning the back of his neck severely, his skin peeling with ugly, twisted blisters. The wind stung his face continually, but by night, the breeze froze his limbs solid. ‘Put him in a cell.’ he heard the woman say. Had they stopped? He felt his body being lifted off the ground and taken down a flight of stairs. The gut wrenching stench was foul and nauseating. Ear piercing wails echoed their pain, whilst moans of agony chorused on in tormented harmony. Power was thrown to the ground heavily, laying face down on the salty floor. Slowly, he drifted once again into the haven of painless sleep. * * * Enigma worked hard on the ropes that bound his hands together. They were tough. He had been attached, cruelly, to a horse with the rope tightly around his waist, and forced to walk or jog along side, depending on how generous the soldiers were feeling. If he fell, he was simply dragged onward. The charred Sanctuary soon came into sight. The few slaves that remained were working hard amongst the rubble. In the mean time, Master Pain had set up a temporary camp on the outside for him and his men. Several soldiers from the camp came galloping in, giving the capturers a hero’s welcome. ‘Boy, are you in trouble.’ one of the men snarled at the reinstated slave. ‘We can get this little brat to rebuild the whole camp on his own.’ another said. ‘And then beat him up when its finished.’ He was spat on and cursed at unnecessarily as the soldiers passed by. Stones were pelted at him, rarely missing, and empty threats were issued. The triumphant pair of soldiers were greeted with a cheer and laughter from their fellow friends. ‘To the Master!’ they all cheered. It was easy to pick out the tent that accommodated the slave leader. A tall, wide canvas home sat right in the middle of the small population of surrounding guards, each on watch, prepared for the worst. The two soldiers dismounted. ‘Pray he only brakes half your limbs.’ the minor leader said with a wicked grin. The guards moved aside from the entrance, opened the flaps. Inside, a decorative room had been created, with the finest of furniture and carpets. A fire blazed in the centre of the makeshift room, with a hole in the roof for a chimney. Sitting comfortably at the back of the tent was Master Pain. A young girl was chained up at his feet whilst another three women fed and fanned him. ‘Your Majesty, ruler of all Ediug,’ the two soldiers chanted, bowing deeply. Enigma’s legs were forced out from underneath him by another loyalist. ‘We have the boy that you sought.’ ‘Well done men.’ the man said with a some what, poetic voice. ‘Untie him and bring him to me.’ ‘But Master -’ the leader started. ‘Do as I say.’ the King said calmly. The chained girl was shoved to one side. To Enigma’s relief, his hands were freed. ‘Please leave.’ the Master ordered his followers. They bowed their respects once again and departed. ‘Sit boy.’ the quiet king ordered. A bunch of cushions were provided for him. Pain wasn’t very tall at all, and could have been easily over powered by a women. His young face was long and freckled and he had dark coloured hair that was cut short. A mouth full of blazing white teeth was the thing that stood out. Behind him stood a dark man, hidden with in the shadows, smoking a pipe. ‘You did quite a good job on the Sanctuary.’ Pain acknowledged. ‘No matter. I was planning to pull the thing down any way. You understand.’ Enigma began to relax a bit. His owner had good control over his anger, if there was any, and it didn’t look as if he were too concerned about his financial loss at all. ‘But of course, there is the job of finding another six thousands slaves to replace those that escaped.’ He was fed a grape. ‘You understand, you will have to be punished for this - just as an example for the others.’ ‘What do you have in mind?’ the fearless boy carefully questioned. ‘Oh I’ll think of something.’ Pain promised. ‘You know sir, your taking this rather well.’ ‘I don’t see the point in yelling. It’s a waste of breath. For now though, I’ll just put you in the one remaining cell in the former Sanctuary.’ He clapped his hands, signalling for his protectors. ‘Guards, lock the boy up. Make sure he’s fed a good meal. He will have some work to do tomorrow.’ An impatient crowd awaited outside for the Master’s verdict. ‘So what’s his punishment?’ the leading apprehender asked. ‘Nothing for the moment.’ one of the guards replied. ‘I just have to take him to the cell, lock him up make sure he is well fed.’ A sigh of out rage brought a smile to Enigma’s face. ‘Back to work!’ he heard Pain yell from inside the tent. People scattered hastily in all directions. Slaves diluted the charcoaled Sanctuary as they worked under the crack of the slave drivers whip. A general depression lingered over their heads at the lost opportunity. A flight of stairs in the middle of the old court yard lead into the ground. The fire hadn’t reached the stairwell, leaving behind a cell that was usually used of tight security. The long, under ground corridor was straight, and almost pitch black, only to be lit by the occasional candle. It didn’t really make sense to have such a long corridor for one single cell. The soldiers opened the solid door to the cell. It was walled simply with stone, including the door, and only just big enough to tightly fit two full grown men. Several candles were lit deep into the wall, away from his reach. He sat to one side of the cubicle with his back against the cold rock. A cool breeze snuck in from a gap beneath the door, chilling him slightly. He was quiet, and lonely. His recapture did worry him much. He’d broken out once, and he was sure to brake out again. ‘And their ain’t nobody going to stop me.’ he promised himself quietly. The agitation he fabricated amongst the soldiers amused him. Though a comical deed, he’d still have to watch his back. The rest of the day went by very, very slowly. The boredom was staggering. He played several counting and word association games that ate up a little time, but the entertainment soon lost it’s punch. Eventually, he became bored with boredom and lay back to relax. A clicking at the door lured his attention. He watched as the heavy entrance creaked open. The loyal man that had escorted him to the cell had brought, this time, the chained girl that was with the Master not long ago. As the door slammed, she swivelled around, mashing her fists into the stone, cursing any word that came to her head. ‘Excuse me.’ Enigma interrupted. ‘Hi.’ she greeted in a sweat voice, spinning back around, deleting her furious rage from her face. Her rags were scarce, covering up less than was desired. She had long blonde - brown hair that just reached passed her shoulder blades, simply letting it flow. Her height was about average, though Enigma was taller than she. Peculiar blue - brown eyes were etched within a round face. She sat down beside him. ‘What are you in here for?’ Enigma asked. ‘For safe keeping.’ she replied in a mature voice. ‘How about you?’ she then asked ‘I was the one that burnt down the Sanctuary. I got away, but got captured again. Pain took it really well though.’ ‘That was an absolutely brilliant plan you pulled off’ the girl commended. ‘Not really. Your just saying that because it’s the first plot that’s ever worked. How come you didn’t get away?’ ‘I was entertaining Pain.’ ‘What bad luck. I’m Enigma, by the way.’ ‘People call me Sly.’ the woman replied. ‘Sounds devious.’ She grinned. ‘And it totally reflects my personality.’ ‘So how long you been here for?’ ‘About four years now.’ ‘And what did they use you for.’ Enigma asked. Sly’s face crinkled with anger, ‘Purely for the perverted minds of the soldiers. Nothing more.’ She spat at the thought. ‘Oh, I see.’ Enigma said, wiping the saliva from his face. ‘Where are the other slaves kept now that the Sanctuary has been destroyed?’ he changed the subject. ‘Pain has erected a temporary cage. There isn’t very many slaves left, so it wasn’t to much of a hassle.’ ‘So this is the only proper cell left standing?’ She nodded. ‘You burnt the rest of it to a crisp.’ ‘Well, do you know how to get out of here?’ Sly looked around the room a bit. ‘There’s no really escape route from inside here, but -’ A faint grin wondered upon her playful face. ‘What do you have in mind.’ Enigma asked, eager to find out. ‘Well...’