Liek was rudely awakened with a kick to his stomach.

For a brief moment, he thought it was simply Cale jabbing him awake. But he soon realized that the breath had been knocked out of him, and the boot that hit him did not belong to his brother.

"Get up, ya miserable whelp! On yer feet!"

Liek looked up at the owner of the voice, and sure enough he was just as ugly as the words his mouth spit out. Liek placed his hands on the ground so he could stand up, and grimaced as he felt a shooting pain travel up his arm. He glanced down at his blood-caked hand and remembered the previous night.

Two cruel cuts were carved deep into the palm of his hand, and along the joints of his fingers. The cut along his fingers was the worst. He could actually see the pale bone peeking out from the open wound. The pain was magnificent.

Another kick to his kidneys sent his stomach reeling. Liek vomited.

"Ay, the boy is in a bad way. Ya should be thankful ol' Trent didn't squash yer head in!" Another voice said from behind.

Liek managed to stand up and face the two men. Liek could probably count on one hand how many teeth they had between the two of them.

"How did this 'ere boy manage to kill Trent, anyway? Look at the size of 'im!"
"That's a myst'ry if I ever did see one. No matter the case, the boy 'as to pay for what he's done."

Liek blinked. What were they talking about?

"Who are you?" He asked.

Something smashed against Liek's skull, and he felt himself go limp.

"Ye'll keep yer mouth shut, boy! After what ya did to Trent and his little ones, ya should be thankin' us fer sparin' yer life!"

Liek began to move in and out of consciousness. The loss of blood and the blow to his head nearly killed him. In some tiny part of Liek's mind, he somehow wished that he had died. His entire world was filled with pain. Where was Cale? Why wasn't he helping him when he needed him most?

-------------------------------------------------

Liek awoke again sitting up against a wall. Everything around him was pitch black. Strange, really. It had been daylight only a short time ago. Liek smelled the air. It was a sickening mixture of blood, mold, and death. He could feel only stone under his legs, and metal around his wrists. A voice snapped Liek's attention away from his surroundings. It was Cale.

"I see you haven't killed any humans yet, brother. Perhaps the men who captured you were good men too?"
"Now is not the time, Cale. Where are you?"
"You needn't worry about that. That last blow to your head left you blind. Don't worry, your eyesight will return in a few hours."
"In a few hours I'll be dead! Get me out of here!"
"Ahh, that is a problem. However, you got yourself into this. I'm going to leave it up to you to get yourself out."
"But I didn't do anything!"

Cale chuckled.

"That's exactly it, little brother. When you were asked to snuff out the life of that human, you chose not to do anything at all. Had you killed that man, then you wouldn't be here. Isn't it about time you finally do something?"

Liek began to sob. Everything looked hopeless.

"None of that now! Just remember your heritage, Liek! The answer is right at your fingertips. You'll do just fine. Good luck, brother."

Liek choked back another sob. As quickly as he came, Cale had already sprinted away. What was he supposed to do? Here he was, blamed for the murder of a family he didn't kill, cold, blind, covered in blood, and chained to a wall. Things looked bleak, at best.

"Remember my heritage..." Liek scoffed.

"Wasn't it was my heritage that got me into this?"




to be continued....