Two months later, the mother’s condition had become unmistakable. Her belly was swollen with the new life growing inside her, a visible reminder of the fox’s cruelty. Despite the added burden, she continued to work tirelessly in the mines, her spirit unbroken. Each swing of her pickaxe and each haul of the heavy ore was a testament to her resilience and an act of defiance against the oppressive forces that sought to break her.
One afternoon, as Edwin was carrying a load of stones, he witnessed a horrifying scene. The guard captain, with his characteristic sadism, was assaulting a fellow slave. The woman, fierce and desperate, fought back with all her might, her cries echoing through the cavernous mine. Her resistance was a spark of rebellion in the suffocating darkness of their existence. In the midst of their struggle, a knife was kicked from the guard captain's belt, skidding across the rough ground to land at Edwin's feet.
Edwin's heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at the knife. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind. He could end it here, take the knife and kill the captain, avenging the countless wrongs inflicted on his family and their people. But he knew the repercussions would be immediate and brutal. The guards would hunt him down, and his family would suffer even more. The price of a moment's vengeance would be paid in blood, and not just his own.
With a quick, decisive motion, Edwin scooped up the knife and hid it under a pile of junk he had mined, his mind already formulating a plan. He couldn’t act in the heat of the moment; he needed to be strategic, patient. The seeds of rebellion had been planted, but they needed time to grow.
That night, as the camp settled into an uneasy quiet, Edwin made his move. He had spent weeks observing the guards and their routines, learning the layout of the camp and its vulnerabilities. With careful, silent precision, he picked the lock on their quarters and slipped out into the darkness. The risk was enormous, but so was the reward.
The air was thick and oppressive, but Edwin's determination cut through it like a knife. He crept through the shadows, every sense alert to the slightest sound. As he approached the exit, he saw two guards blocking the way. His heart raced, but he calmed himself, knowing he had to stay focused.
Feigning weakness, he stumbled towards the guards, his body language that of a broken, defeated boy. The guards laughed, their guard down as they mocked his apparent helplessness. It was the opening Edwin needed. With lightning-fast reflexes, he sprang into action. The knife he had hidden earlier flashed in the dim light as he struck. The first guard fell silently, the knife buried deep in his throat. The second guard barely had time to react before Edwin jumped on his back, his hand clamped over his mouth, the blade slicing through his neck with ruthless efficiency.
Breathing heavily, Edwin dragged the bodies into the shadows, hiding them from immediate view. He knew it wouldn’t be long before their absence was noticed, but he had to move quickly. He slipped through the exit and into the night, the rain pouring down in relentless sheets. Each drop felt like a baptism, washing away the boy he had been and forging the man he needed to become.
The black of night enveloped him as he ran, the rain a constant, drumming beat on his skin. It soaked through his clothes, making his every step a struggle, but he pressed on. The rain would help mask his scent, his tracks, giving him a slim chance of escaping pursuit. He pushed himself harder, driven by a fierce determination that burned brighter with each passing moment.
His mind raced with thoughts of his mother, Marcus, and the unborn child she carried. He was leaving them behind, but he wasn’t abandoning them. He was seeking a way to fight back, to gather strength and resources to one day return and free them all. The thought of their suffering fueled his resolve, turning his fear into a weapon.
As he ran through the forest, the cold rain seeping into his bones, Edwin searched for a place to rest, a place to hide from the relentless storm. His muscles ached, and exhaustion tugged at his consciousness. Finally, he spotted a large bush, its dense foliage offering a semblance of shelter. He crawled underneath it, the branches and leaves forming a protective cocoon around him.
Shivering, Edwin curled into a ball, seeking warmth and protection. The bush shielded him from the worst of the rain, and the unfamiliar scent of earth and leaves brought a small measure of comfort. Having been born and raised underground, the smells and sensations of the surface world were new and overwhelming. His thoughts lingered on his family, and he made a silent vow to return for them. He had to survive, not just for himself, but for all those he loved.
Sleep came slowly, as the adrenaline of his escape gradually ebbed away. The sound of the rain on the leaves above became a rhythmic lullaby, and despite the cold and discomfort, Edwin finally drifted off into a restless sleep. His dreams were filled with images of his mother, Marcus, and the unborn child, their faces a constant reminder of why he had to keep going, why he had to stay strong.
