The next day, Darien adventured through the streets of Aelios with several guards escorting him, along with Tetsu, Yuu, and Cambyses. The three boys walked through the prosperous streets, marveling at how populated the city was. There were people walking everywhere, and exotic animals that Darien found fascinating were being led throughout the city. Creatures like giraffes and monkeys were scampering about underneath the supervision of their owners.
Darien had a ruby-red scarf tightly curled around his neck, and he wore a golden, short-sleeved shirt of fine linen along with silver shorts. A civilian showed Darien his camel, which was the goofiest animal that the prince had ever seen. The prince personally found the camel’s humps outstandingly amusing, though he wasn’t sure why. He patted the animal’s snout but the creature returned his ecstatic gaze with an apathetic stare.
“Hey, Darien! Look at this!” Yuu exclaimed, pointing to a street performer who was tossing flaming torches through the air. At the same time, he was somehow spewing a jet of fire from his mouth like a dragon. Groups of lower-class civilians, wearing slightly tattered clothing, were cheering in awe at the performer’s rare talents.
Darien’s attention diverted from the exotic camel to the gifted street performer. “Say, uncle, how does he shoot fire from his mouth like that? Surely that can’t be real.”
“Oh, but it is,” Cambyses said. “It’s magic.”
“Magic, such a thing must be myth. It’s told in stories for children, nothing more,” Darien said, unconvinced.
“Nope,” Tetsu said. “You’d actually be surprised at how many people have somehow obtained magical powers. Don’t ask me how they do it, but there are plenty of people who have it. You can tell that this guy has magic. The way he breathes fire out, it’s being conjured from inside his throat. He’s creating the flames. I mean, that’s impressive enough but people don’t seem to really notice. They just see his juggling and how he’s spitting out fire like a circus act. He should be using that magic to serve a better purpose.”
Cambyses nodded. “You should already know that your father has a mage who answers directly to him. Powerful mages who have absolute control over their magic are known to work for kings of nations. They’re called Magi. Your father has a personal Magus that fulfills his wishes. And that mage will work for you when you take the throne.”
“Huh,” Darien muttered, watching the fire performer for a moment longer before moving onward. He had heard of Magi, but he had always thought that they were just religious leaders, not sorcerers. He couldn’t believe that magic actually existed.
His party eventually stumbled across a group of lower-class civilians who were bowing and praying to a stone statue of one of the Tulgorian gods. The statue had the head of a dog and the body of a man. Hundreds of copper coins were tossed into a fountain underneath the statue as tribute. The currency gleamed from underneath the calm fountain waters. Darien looked at the supposed deity with an emotionless gaze. He pitifully watched as several citizens bowed to the statue, pressing their foreheads to the ground. Groveling in the dirt before a statue. How foolish.
Darien’s face twisted into an annoyed scowl. Personally, he didn’t believe in gods. He thought that it was absurd that there was even the idea of a powerful deity floating somewhere in the universe amongst the stars. The gods never showed themselves and nothing proved that they existed, so what reason did Darien have to believe in their existence? And here these people were, humiliating themselves for the sake of praying to something that they didn’t even know existed. Darien just didn’t understand how people could put all of their faith, all of their hope, in something they’d never seen.
The prince suddenly spotted several tanned slaves, all collaborating to carry a large plank of wood, trudging past the statue. It was clear that they were drained of energy from the way they dragged their feet across the dirt. They were so skinny that it looked their stomachs were actually caving into their bodies and their ribcages were clearly visible. Darien stared at the starved men with shock as they slowly dragged themselves past the prince and his party. “Why are they so starved? Do their overseers not feed them?” the prince asked his uncle.
“Slaves are not treated as human in our empire. Surely you know that,” Cambyses said, almost frowning at Darien. “They are the same as working animals.”
Darien watched as one of the slaves tripped and fell over, causing the wooden plank to clatter to the ground. Several of the well-clothed civilians that walked by glanced at the struggling slaves in disgust. The prince could see the distaste in their eyes, which were dark as a blackened void.
A shirtless man stormed forward in annoyance, dragging a whip across the sandy earth. The man’s body was tanned to a crispy brown after so many days in the hot sun and his lack of shirt exposed his rippling muscles, which bulged so much that he looked like a walking hunk of meat. This was clearly the overseer, one of the men who watched over the slaves. The overseer raised his whip and snapped it down on one of the weak slaves, flaying the man’s flesh with a relentless crack. Blood splattered onto the ground as the sharp whip rent deep into the slave’s back. The laborer cried out in agony as he collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, his jaw clenched tight as tears streamed down his dirt-caked cheeks.
“Please, spare me! I-I’m tired! It’s hot and I just need some water! Please!” the slave pleaded, but the whip slapped down onto his back once more, creating yet another slash mark ripping across his scarred back. More screaming. More pain. Yet civilians just walked past as if nothing was happening. This was just another common occurrence to them.
Darien was about to step forward and order the man to stop harming the slave, but Cambyses held out his hand, halting the prince. “This is the natural order of things in our empire, Darien. In order to maintain prosperity, we must sacrifice the freedoms of a few to benefit the majority. That is how it has been and always will be. You should not interfere in such traditions.”
There was a grunt and Cambyses turned to see that the overseer had been knocked back to the ground. Standing over him was Tetsu, and he was absolutely furious. The boy gripped the limp whip in his hand and gazed down on the overseer, who was now unarmed. “I don’t think you know what it’s like to be in their shoes,” the boy snarled, raising the weapon into the air. “Do you know what it’s like? To feel the hissing whip crack across your flesh and scar you so bad that it marks you up just like a bloody painting. I don’t think you know what it’s like, otherwise I think you’d be more merciful. Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh?”
“No! I’m just doing my job! Please! I work for Master Shazir! Don’t harm me!” the overseer pleaded, cringing in fear before the whip. “I beg of you!”
Tetsu swung the weapon downward, the whip slapping against the sand inches away from the overseer’s face. He rolled his eyes and dropped the weapon onto the dirt, ambling away from the powerless man. “Next time you decide to punish someone, make sure that you put yourself in their shoes first and decide if it’s fair.”
The overseer gripped the hilt of his whip, pushing himself onto his feet. The color had returned to his face and he smiled nefariously. “Life ain’t fair, kid.”
Tetsu spun around, his eyes bulging with rage, and was about to tear the man apart when several of Darien’s soldiers rushed forward and yanked the boy back.
“Tetsu must control his temper when he witnesses mistreatment of slaves,” Cambyses said. “I can understand where his frustration originates. It is unfair and unfortunate, my prince. But, as the overseer said, many things in life aren’t fair. At least we are able to make many happy with the services that servants and slaves provide us.”
Darien watched as Yuu comforted Tetsu by patting the boy on the shoulder and agreeing that the overseer was a prick. The prince sighed. Despite the logical reasoning his uncle had given him, he did not agree with slavery or the horrific mistreatment of the workers. After all, it already seemed like they were being worked to death and their vigorous labor came with absolutely no compensation except pain and misery. “I want to go home,” the prince said.
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