The cart moved ceaselessly throughout the night. Not a single piece of vegetation was visible en route. This was a given, considering the flames of the nights before. Mortal fires could never compare to Auric Flame Arts, techniques with the ability to burn away even longevity at its pinnacle. Such flames danced across Leafwind, leaving nothing but parched soil.

Perhaps in a few years this will be a desert. Mona's gaze rested on what remained of Eshwin's skyline. Where the town hall and main street once ran now were collapsed structures, bits of brick and mortar avoid instant vaporization.

When the Flame Arts was potent enough, structures would age millennia in a matter of seconds, before what remained was burnt to ash. Ordinary mortals would be lucky to even feel pain in the onslaught. The death toll was greater because of the flames of war, rather than the steel of men.

The occasional rut in the road sent the chained passengers at times flying towards the walls. Motion sickness struck the weak, while disease festered in that damp and humid environment, where small talk helped keep away thoughts of suicide. After all, slavery could very well be worse than dying by your own hands.

Mona looked to the other passengers, some who had fallen asleep from exhaustion, some who continued to speak in other to remain sane. Sadly, some did none of this at all; they were already gone from this world.

The cart Mona was placed in was a bit special. Unlike the other carts, it had fewer people. People Mona could recognize quite easily. The vast majority of them were young nobles from his rite of passage, except they were talkative more so with one another than him. After all, Mona kept largely to himself, and avoided from befriending other nobles. It wasn't that they were rude, but rather it were there calculative dispositions that kept him from making close relations.

A lone figure similar to Mona was seated at the opposite end of the car. When their vision overlapped, the other fellow managed to smile and made his way to Mona. Unlike the other passengers, Mona was not only chained to the walls, but also was given two shackles of several dozen kilograms on each ankle.

A noble such as Mona was a commodity worth far more than the average noble. Why? Perhaps because of his grandfather's achievements. Such a cruel twist of fate.

"Mona...is that you?" The fellow had managed to make his way past the masses to Mona, carrying his shackle in his hands. His hands trembled from having to hold the weight the whole distance.

"Yes, Reithar, it's me." Mona replied, his figure shivering slightly under his rags. He felt quite cold under the rags he received on getting on the cart. After being stripped of whatever belongings he had on him, the patchwork cloth he now wore did little to keep the wearer warm.

Reithar sat down in front of Mona, his eyes cringing occasionally as he studied the bruises adorned on the frail body before him. Mona's current pain was likely far more than his own.

"Don't worry. They'll heal. I'm more worried about making it out alive..." Mona's voice trailed off into a whisper. Reithar wanted to console him, but sadly the situation was too bleak. Who knew were life would take them. His scalp tingled at the thought of the future.

"....by any chance, do you know what will happen next?" Mona asked Reithar. Although Mona had come in a group with others, they found the car originally had captives, dead and alive. Among the living was Reithar. Among the dead were some from his close family. He had to watch their bodies get thrown out without emotion to make way for new arrivals. Those corpses weren't properly buried at all.

"...." Reithar looked at Mona, his countenance became grim. "They are taking us to a remodeled prison. There we will be tested for three weeks. Every week they will separate us. The first to go will be the strongest among us. They will become enslaved sentinels. If they manage to reach age 40 without dying, they will gain third-class citizenship."

Why would they die? Mona knew there was something behind this, but he didn't press Reithar further at his point.

He continued, "The second group will be the strongest among those left. They will become soldiers in wars for the Alberdos Kingdom. After thirty years of service living on the front lines, perhaps they will be free..."

"Those taken during the third week will be those skilled in crafts or are knowledgeable scholars or scribes. They will become lifetime servants...and die with their masters upon death."

Reithar began to whisper, "And those left after those three weeks, they will become food for beasts or..."

His body shuddered at the thought of the final auction. At that point, buyers could do what they wanted with their property: feed them to beasts, experiment on them, or worse.... Becoming slave labor was considered lucky.

Mona's eyes gained a bit of light after hearing Reithar speak. Perhaps he could leave thanks to his education. Thoughts connected in his mind. I need to get out. Perhaps this is the only way.

Reithar saw the glint in Mona's eyes, and sighed. His own talent was the lowest of the low. Mortal. Negligible talent in Aura manipulation. And no education. A thought arose in his head as he saw Mona's condition improve.

"Mona...if we ever....can you..." Reithar didn't know how to say it.

"If there is a chance." Mona re-postured his body, trying to take off pressure from his bruises. He knew what Reithar meant to say. Of course, that's if.

By now, the vast majority of the other passengers had fallen asleep, their bodies piling upon each other opposite of the only window in the box.

His wounds hinged on every gust of air. Mona tried to swivel his body, only for the chains to prevent him. The weights had left their mark on his wrists, his ankles, his neck. Those marks were still fresh in his flesh.

Slowly, he too fell asleep from the fatigue, his body still held up by the chains.

*****

Sunlight poured in from the small gap in the box car. Mona's eyes flickered, his hands unable to block the strong rays. He turned his head, barely noticing the nearby Reithar beside him, still asleep. Mona checked his wounds.

During the time he was looking at the fleeting illusory image that was once Oscar and his cousin Valence, he was tackled by several of the assassins. To add further injury, their combined weight had created bruises on his pale body, a few which eventually bled. Luckily no bones were broken, but the soreness did not disappear. Instead, the cold cut right through the thin cloak he received as a captive, aggravating his contusions.

Now instead of biting cold their was warm heat, and the pain from his injuries had greatly decreased. If not for the scabs that itched without relenting or the chains that held him close to the wall, perhaps he wouldn't be that bad off.

The bits of warm air that came inside helped to ease the atmosphere. Outside one could see nothing but sand dunes and the occasional cacti. The sun was high in the morning sky, its beams slowly heating the compartment.

The rest of the captives woke up, their eyes fighting the urge to sleep again from this reality. The car took a complete right turn, and every captive slid with the momentum. At this point, from the pressure was everyone completely awaken.

The box carts were opened, with armed soldiers pointing weapons at the captives ordering them to move. Groups moved out in fives, as their chains connected five persons at a time.

Mona looked to Reithar, whose own chain was connected to another set of individuals. When it was their turn, he sighed and gave a passing smile to Mona.

Mona sighed as he watched Reithar disappear from the wagon. Soon the whole cart was emptied of people, except for the chained Mona. Two armed guards stepped into the box. Upon seeing Mona, a sinister arc crept across their faces. They unchained the adolescent from the walls, only to add several more weights to his feet.

With their weapons in hand, they forced Mona outside of the cart.

The sun's glare was strong in Mona's eyes. As they readjusted, he noticed the structure in front of them. To think he was brought here. A dark metallic behemoth stood a stone's throw away. On its walls walked Alberdan's sentries. Smoke gushed from two towers, filling the air with a haze. The doors slowly opened up, the sound of drawn chains ringing in his ears. Occasionally a scream could be heard, one of desperation and agony.

Even in nations of purity and light there were dissenting individuals, some criminal, some insane. To deal with this, the Leafwind Kingdom converted an entire town into a prison. Citizens were relocated, and the cells were filled with various individuals. Here they would stay for months at a time, only to be hauled off to the Alberdos Kingdom for what Fate held in store. For a time it was acceptable, and the noble in charge made a tidy profit exchanging lives. But once the cost ate away profits, the place was closed under the disguise of humanitarianism.

Yet here the building stood, churning away as if it never closed. From Mona's line of sight, he could see Reithar and his group being threatened into the confines of the large prison. One of the figures fell, only to be turned to ash with Flame Arts before his eyes. The four remaining eagerly followed the officers, lest their deaths came following.

Such was Darkthorn Prison, the only prison of the fallen Leafwind Kingdom. Where nobles once all over had dread, now quietly slept instead.