Drake's pupils slowly morphed from snake-like to their original shape. He blinked a couple of times, clearing his blurry vision. With heavy breaths, he felt around the nearby tables, knocking down the wooden cups, bowls, and food. Eventually, his fingers wrapped around the small vial. His rotten teeth bit down on the cork and pried it off of the bottle.

Rushing the liquid into his mouth, he regained his sight with each passing moment. He threw the vial on the ground. His head slumped against the table, while he pushed his short blonde hair back. Sweat had dampened his skin, as it dripped down his back, face, and arms. A loud crash filled his ears and it was soon followed by lung cutting screams. Tilting his head, he looked in the direction of the noise. Watching with a smile, one of his men began to beat a slave woman to the ground.

Drake shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he did so. The world seemed to slow down, and Drake took the opportunity to soak it in. Birds softly sang in the trees above and faintly he could hear muffled voices. His attention shifted to a set of footsteps, heavy in particular, making their way towards him. Opening his eyes, he was met with a pair of black boots, before slowly trailing his way up.

"What do you want?" Drake asked. He rose his head, shifting it as he placed his fist under his chin. His sharp eyes glared at the bald man, who crossed his arms over his chest. The man held a letter in his hand. "Who is it from?"

"Aldrich," the man said. Holding out the scroll, Drake noticed the snake symbol pressed into the wax seal. With a sigh, he took the scroll from the man. "He'll be glad to know that we found Aria."

"We're not telling him just yet." Drake took his dagger from its belt, using it to cut the wax seal. The man gave him a shocked look and opened his mouth to object before being interrupted by Drake. "We didn't catch her, how do you think Aldrich will react when he finds out that we had her and allowed her to getaway. Now, go tell the men to prepare."

The man rolled his eyes and left Drake alone. He shouted at the men, screaming and kicking others to begin moving for them to begin their travels. Drake lightly laughed as he watched the man dug the heel of his boot into the sides of one of the slaves. His lips curved into a smile, as he observing the slaves being tugged by the chains around their necks and arms.

He felt the parchment crinkle under his fingers, grabbing his attention. Unraveling the scroll, his eyes scanned the black penmanship etched into the paper. Carefully, he read each word and imagined it in Aldrich's voice. After each word, his heart caved into itself more and more, crushing him.

I am disappointed in you. I thought that you would have served me differently, yet you have failed me. You allowed for this plan to be ruined by knights. Now Lukosea will be on guard. Come to me now, we need to discuss our next move.

"I deserve this," Drake mumbled. Lifting his arm, he gazed at the many tattoos of snakes inked into his skin. He spoke unknown words, whispering as his eyes slowly pulsed a bright yellow.

One of the snakes began to slither, hissing as its head raised from his bicep. It's small head gazes at him with beady eyes, flicking its tongue to sense him. It dripped from his arm, clumping into a pile before once again regaining a shape. The snake hissed, showing its dripping fangs before turning around and disappearing into the forest.

Drake lifted his head, looking at the high walls and towers of Lukosea in the distance. A bright glow emitted from behind him, casting his shadow of the ground. He looked at his shape, then trailed his eyes back up to the capital.

"That was a smart move to go to the capital," Drake thought to himself. "I thought you were at Ethos, but now that you're in my reach, I will finally have you."

He laughed to himself as he twirled his dagger around his fingers. The cold steel passed by each finger until pricking him after being distracted by another scream. Crimson seeped down his finger, and small droplets fell into the dirt below him.

With a groan, Drake lifted himself off of the ground. Sliding his dagger into its belt, he began to make his way towards the source of the scream. He walked along a muddy path, one that was formed with blood, bowels, and rainwater. His boots clung to the slick surface, attempting to be claimed by the mud. As he made his way down the path, he noticed a crowd of bandits circling around something.

Drake pushed a couple of men out of the way and made his way towards the center. Eventually, he came across one of the slave's limp body on the ground. Her dark skin appeared almost grayish with patches of a dark, blackish color. Drake bent down and scanned her, before eventually plugging his nose from a rotting smell.

Deep purple bruises covered her neck and wrist, although Drake believed that only had to do with the shackles. He looked at the patches that covered her body and poked at the skin. It felt like slime, and it stuck to his finger as he pulled away. A layer of blue covered her pupils, making it appear as if she was blind. As he loomed over her, some of the men behind him whispered amongst each other.

"I saw Rafra beat her. It was him who probably killed her."

"She had it coming. What use is a slave who can't even do work properly?"

"You're right. She always fainted since the moment we got her. I knew we shouldn't have bought someone who was originally across the sea. No wonder those spots appeared shortly after buying her."

"Shut up," Drake hissed. He pulled himself away from the body and looked over to his men. He snickered to himself before taking a step closer to his one of the men, walking over the body in the process. His fingers then gripped at a man's collar and pulled the tall man down. "Tie Rafra to the post and whip him until he is covered in blood. The rest of you, do something with the body."

With a shove, he pushed over the bandit and walked away from the unsightly scene. He made his way towards one of the tents, passing by the slaves sleeping area to his left. Sneaking a glance, he saw the half-clothed people scrambled in piles. Overcrowded in a small area, they were like pigs ready to be slaughtered. A horrid smell emitted from them, almost like their flesh was rotting on their very skin. Some stared at him with empty eyes, while they rocked their dirt-covered bodies back and forth.

Drake moved his hand towards the tattered cloth of the tent. Pushing it to the side, he walked inside. At the center was a type of makeshift table strapped together with wood and vines. A slave sat up on the table, with their bony legs dangling off the side. The slave's wrist was extended to the bald bandit, who was slowly poking the skin with a needle. Drips of ink were slowly being imprinted into the slave's skin, and with each poke, she whimpered.

"How is it coming old man," Drake said while he looked down at the slave's wrist. "I see that you're halfway done with this one. How many did you do today?"

"About five so far," the man responded with a deep voice. He dipped the needle into nearby ink cartage and continued to poke her quickly.

The old man worked on the second half of the small "V" while Drake glanced back at the slaves sitting behind him. Two of them lowered their heads the moment he looked at them, but the other one looked him directly in his eyes. Drake strode towards the slave who sat on the ground. His calloused hands grip at the chin of the young boy, putting pressure to dig his fingers into his skin. His amber eyes stared intently at the boy's green eyes. He scoffed and pushed the boy back on the ground. The boy jerked himself back up, and quickly his face was met with Drake's backhand. His silver ring had ripped the skin of the boy's cheek, causing blood to drip out of a large gash in his cheek.

"You remind me of someone I hate," Drake barked before turning his body back to the old man. "Are you done with her yet?"

"I'm done," the aged voice said while he dropped the needle next to the ink bottle. "The boy you just hit is next actually, can you bring him over?"

His fingers wrapped around the boy's hair, feeling the damp form of sweat and oil that coated his brown hair. With a jerk, Drake dragged the boy across the dirt and threw him onto the table. The old man pulled the boy's wrist forward and proceeded to pick up the needle. The boy's fingers latched to the side of the wooden table, and his body shook as the needle got closer to his tan skin.

"By the way, Drake," the old man began, "I made new bottles of ink, can you make sure to link your magic to it before you leave?"

"I will, although I don't plan to leave just yet." Drake took a step closer to the table, placing his hand next to the boy's as he leaned closer. The boy sucked in the air quickly and held it as if he was paralyzed. "Not until this one is done."

"Suit yourself. I'm not one to judge your taste in men, although some of the others might find it a bit disgusting." Drake turned his gaze towards him, glaring as he pulled away from the boy. He walked around the old man, however, his eyes remained fixed on the boy.

He came across a crate of ink bottles. Lifting one of the bottles out of the crate, he looked closely at the ink before removing the grass-woven lid. Ink coated his finger as he dipped it into the ink. It felt cold and slippery. Mouthing the words, Drake's eyes flashed as the bottle began to glow. Drake let out a sigh, turning to look at the old man.

"Next time, don't make a whole crate. You know how much I hate doing these." Pulling the next bottle out, he proceeded to do the same thing. The old man just snickered as he continued to drip the ink into the skin of the boy. Drake clicked his tongue at the man while he opened another bottle. "I won't be doing them all right now, but be sure to pack them away before tomorrow morning, we'll be going back to Blackvale."

"Already?" he asked while he placed the needle down. "What about the watchtowers?"

"It's Aldrich's orders." Drake placed the ink bottles back into the crate and wiped his finger against the side of his pants. He watched as the boy hopped off the table, proceeding to gaze down at his wrist with its new mark. "Just be ready. Hurry up and get done here too."

Drake walked past the boy, grabbing the chain around his neck and pulling him outside of the tent. He walked the boy like a dog, dragging him by his collar. The boy stumbled and fell as he tripped over his own feet. The boy fell into the mud, his hands and face becoming completely covered with it. It was cold, wet, and the dirt covered him head to toe. Lifting his head, the boy found his gaze to be met with Drake's, who simply jerked on the chain.

Being forced forward, the boy held the chain around his neck while he crawled on all fours. Drake wrapped the chain around his arm as if to tighten the distance between him and the boy. A devilish smile crossed his lips, as he stopped to turn to the boy. Crouching down, Drake yanked the boy's head up to look at him.

"How old are you?" Drake asked while also turning the boy's face.

The boy did not answer, instead, he simply spat mud at Drake. His green twitched with fury, and they clamped shut the moment Drake pulled at his grease-covered hair. Lifting his hand, Drake traced his thumb underneath the boy's eye. The boy shivered at his touch as well as from the constant pain at the back of his head.

"Your age doesn't matter. You're at least sixteen." Drake pulled his hand back and wrapped it around his neck. He continued to observe the boy with hungry eyes while he smiled with a thirsty grin. "I told you that you reminded me of someone I hated. Your eyes are just like hers. I'll make you my toy, and I'll call you Aria. How does that sound?"

Hey guys! We're very close to getting to chapter ten, I'm so excited because I'm actually making good progress in this story for once. I'm glad that you're still here reading this story, and I hope that you continue. Tell me your thoughts so far! Anyway, thank you so much for reading, and have a fantastic day!