Even still, at the end of the second day, Kenneth was undefeated, his hands that had meant the difference between life and death for his patients during surgery serving him well.

  By now, the betting had stopped rising, because if it had, a lot of people would be destitute. Of course, those who had already thrown in their lot were keen on being the winner, creating an ever-circulating pool of challengers, who provided some intense entertainment for those still watching, especially when they freaked out.

  Turn on some cameras and get a pair of announcers, and this could become a national sport.

  The vararity could always change all from one on one games, with an ever changing cup size, to one with different dimensions, and even group games, where each player would be eliminated one at a time, and then resume, with a random amount scooped out, by the next player, with their turn resulting in having to put two stones in, chosen by the other players.

  Yet, regardless, Kenneth had managed to win each game, despite size mattering, his steady and unshakable hands allowed him to insert the stones like putting coins into a vending machine.

  Truly his years as a doctor were paying off, but even so, with little time to rest, keeping one eye open so he wouldn’t be dragged under a pile and killed, his stamina was running out, from a lack of general sleep, and ever intensifying headaches from the growing heat, but if it meant, the hours inside would pass just a little bit faster, it was something he had to do.

  With sweat running down his face, everywhere, and glass lenses fogging slightly, Kenneth picked up another rock and, like he’d done a hundred times before, inserted it into the water, except this time, before he let go, his hand twitched.

  “Oh, oh, oh!” His opponent let out in sudden, invigorated excitement, catching the less enthusiastic watchers' attention.

  Were this to finally be the downfall of Kenneth, would the immovable rock that he’d been finally be moved aside so some other two could play, and the winner get rich in the process?

  Unfortunately, no, as he got it in no problem.

  “Hisss! You Plebo!” His opponent hissed in anger, as the crowd let out a mix of laughs and relieved hisses, when in the next turn he lost.

  But at that point, Kenneth just flopped back, landing smack dab in Nokguvo’s lap.

  “Any reason you did that?” She asked, both sounding mad and calm.

  “Zzzzzzzz.”

  “Did he really fall asleep?” Nokguvo groaned.

  “No… Urk… I didn’t,” Kenneth answered her, somewhat dazedly, swallowing the bit of vomit that had come up, while looking to the right and pointing to Nokkrik. “Was… aiming for her lap. Miscalculated the trajectory, or something like that.”

  “You don’t sound… like you,” Nokkrik said in a voice half concern, half uncertainty.

  “I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t know how much more I can keep going.”

  “If ya give up, do it on my turn,” Nokguvo grumbled.

  “I’m biologically… engi-endi-indie. I’m built to handle heat, like you are all biologically built to hold your breath for a long time, but being Tolo-toto-tolarant and immune isn't the same thing. Eventually, you would drown, and eventually my organs would start to shut down, and I would die.”

  “Heat can kill you,” Nokkrik said in confusion, a sentiment shared by mostly the younger people, the older ones seeming more familiar with the possibility. “But isn't there anything you can do?”

  “Water helps, but even so, there isn't a guarantee that the stress won’t just cause one of my organs to die,” He explained. “The thought of taking a bath in hand sanitizer and jumping into the nearest body of water comes to mind, but I can’t. All of you would start wondering if this was some elaborate plan-ish-ploy or something, and then we’d have a riot on our hands. Well, I’m trying to avoid death with all of this.”

  Complete silence almost hung in the air, Kenneth's steadily increasing and rasping breath the only sound.

  “I trust you,” Nokkrik said loudly for everyone to hear. “If you say we can get through this unlike the past, then I vote you get out of here.”

  “Ya, serious,” Nokguvo sighed, echoing many people’s thoughts at the moment, but even so raised her arm. “I don’t want you on my lap anymore.”

  One by one, each one raised their hands in an overwhelming majority vote, of everyone.

  “He… you all really know how to tug at an old man’s heartstrings,” Kenneth chuckled, sitting up. “Well, guess I’ll be leaving.”

  After explaining the situation and getting the go-ahead from Nokuji, he got his bag and took a bath in hand sanitizer, returning to his residence, but first went and found Split to see how Kolu and Nokstella were doing.

  He was mostly worried for Kolu, but he looked to be in good spirits, though it was Nokstella who leapt at him and clamped shut around his legs, with Kolu coming a bit slower and taking his hand.

  “So it is safe now,” Split asked.

  “Not completely,” Kenneth replied, “I’m fine bathed in hand sanitizer, but there’s still a chance the disease can spread from others. They are not worried about getting shut in, so once I’ve cooled down in the morning, I’ll go check on them and see how it’s going. And thanks for looking after them, it means more than you know.”

  “You asked me, so I did.”

  He nodded his head to her and took his leave, Nokstella having missed being carried, while Kolu’s tail wagged a little while holding his hand.

  It didn’t take long for the three to lie down and sleep. Of course, one of the four, Nokamber, had to join, but compared to the sauna, this was heaven.

  “Hiss”

  “Hiss”

  Nokemera looked around, but no one noticed her in the slightest.

  “HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

  “If there’s something you want to say, say it,” Noksap annoyedly said.

  “I hate this, and I hate looking at her,” Nokemera said, looking at Nokamber, who peacefully slept, cuddled up to Kenneth. “Sleeping so annoyingly.”

  “Do you only complain?” Nokoojab sighed heavily. “If it’ll come you down, you can take my turn and sleep up against him.”

  So with no hesitation, Nokemera did so, standing over Nokamber and nudging her with her foot, “Get up, it’s my turn.”

  When she didn’t even stir, Nokemera nudged harder and harder until she tapped her back and kicked her tail.

  “Great! She’s sleeping like she’s in her embrace!”

  “Don’t even make light of that,” Noksap sternly said.

  Nokemera simply shrugged her off and turned to Kenneth, shaking him, “Get up, it’s my turn.”

  “I doubt it’s any easier to wake him,” Nokoojab said.

  “I can’t wake him, she won’t wake, could all of this get any better!” Nokemera complained. “I was hoping to relax and have fun, and then Black Beak comes out early, and now I’m stuck here!”

  “I think I heard Lord Obaliy give her speech some time ago,” Nokoojab added.

  Nokemera hissed and growled, her gaze lingering on Nokamber, her arms wrapped over Kenneth, before she turned around and stomped over to the door.

  “You gonna take a shit?” Noksap asked.

  “No! Im leaving, I’m not going to miss out on another one of these. I don’t care if I get caught, I’m getting myself the first man I see!”

  “You do know if you get caught, we all get skinned, no exceptions this time, even for her,” Noksap gestured to Nokamber.

  “Come with me, don’t leave, you can’t stop me,” she said as she violently opened the door.

  “No wonder she can only find a man when they pray,” Nokoojab commented.

  A sharp hiss followed by deep reverberating laughter escaped Noksaps ' scaly maw as she rose up from the floor. “She doesn’t know the difference between being dominant and annoying.”

  “Are you getting her back?”

  “No, I’m joining, might as well have some fun before we are peeled again.”

  “But, what about Black Beak and Nokamber?”

  “Leave them be, he’s going nowhere, she's always holding him tight even when sleeping, but you can stay if you like, it doesn't matter to me.”

  Nokoojab took one last look before she, more hesitantly than the two others, joined outside, the door closing, somewhat softly.

  A few moments of silence persisted, as all four of them lay there.

  But eventually, Kenneth simply pushed her off him, her big limp body doing so with ease, and as he lay there on his back staring up at the ceiling, Nokambers' soft breath filling the air, and Nokstella sleeping, biting his arm, all he could think about in that moment was, ‘I’ve told so many lies.’

  It didn’t sit right with him, but it was necessary.

  Kenneth glanced to the side and saw something sticking out of Nokamber's wrist. It was an EpiPen, so impossibly small, barely able to hold anything, but just enough for three drops of the dreamer.

  ‘When taking all of those emergency medical supplies out of the bag, she never noticed any of these, or if she did, didn’t pay them any attention,’ Kenneth thought with a sigh, feeling an exorbitant amount of relief, reluctance, and trepidation. ‘Guess I’m lucky those three left, otherwise I would have had to inject them one at a time, probably improvising at the end, but this works too.’

  As he lay there in his head, he went over everything, all he’d done so far, the tools he’d prepared, the timing of everything, even the epidemic he’d engineered to ensure Nokkuoras' placement and the lies he’d prepared to tell if the group hadn’t agreed for him to go tonight, keeping it all alive for another month. He thought about the plan over and over, but only how it could go wrong, at each stage, but… truthfully, he was only delaying the hardest step, the truly very first.

  He looked at Nokstella, dreaming happily, unaware of everything, everything that was about to happen, how her life would once more be turned upside down.

  ‘Fuck you, Nokoovo,’ he cursed her in his head, fully aware this was not her sin.

  With labored breath as his visage tightened, Kenneth reached into his pocket and pulled out a simple syringe, this one only containing one drop of the dreamer.

  Gritting his teeth and tightening every muscle in his face to keep any semblance of calm and composure, he reached for her with the needle, but suddenly she turned, and Kenneth’s face froze.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  His heart pounding, he watched with wide-open eyes as she, still in her sleep, rolled along his arm and rubbed up against his chest, turning and tossing in her sleep to find the right most comfortable spot and position.

  He felt sick to his stomach and almost hurled right then and there.

  ‘I… I can’t do this… not to her… she's already lost her mother, and now I’m just going to leave her. I could… I could stay here,’ but as the thought echoed in his mind, his gaze turned to Kolu, and he remembered everything he’d been through. ‘Maybe… maybe I really can take her with me…?’

  Yet that was only a selfish idea, and he knew it. If he took her with him, it would only mean pain and probably misery, with a good chance of death. Here she was with her people, could learn the culture, even in that short time they were separated, she had changed a little. She would grow up to be a fine young woman, and he was sure of it, whether she grew up in the orphanage or if by some chance Split took pity on her and adopted her.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Nokstella, I hope one day, you can understand,’ Kenneth begged as he did what had to be done and waited, not allowing himself to look away for even a moment. He had done this, and now everyone had to live with it.

  There was no turning back now.

  With absolute care, he gently moved away from Nokstella, and as he took Kolu and went to the door, an ice-cold pit in his stomach grew with every second, telling him he was the worst, a pathetic piece of shit who abandoned children again, and that it wasn't too late, despite knowing it wasn't true the moment he managed to open the door, but before he could leave, he went back inside and moved Nokstella a bit further away from Nokamber, just to be absolutely sure she wouldn’t roll onto her in her sleep.

  “Is it time to wake up?” Kolu asked, waking up outside.

  “Goodbye Nokstella,” he said, walking out and closing the door, whereupon he explained everything to Kolu.

  He looked confused, probably believing it to be a dream, but as his senses began to wake as well, it became obvious it wasn't, and as he looked around, he asked. “Where’s Nokstella?”

  “She's home,” he replied before walking away with Kolu in tow, him understanding and Kenneth being unable to tell if he was sad or not, as both of them made it unnoticed to the slave pen.

  With the fake epidemic and the fuck fesiesta down below, there shouldn’t be anyone who would spot them randomly, though, of course, they were cautious.

  Once inside, Kenneth cautiously looked around. Last time Nokoovo was here, he was ready for her, but it required the element of surprise, as he, in the cover of dim, dark light and shadows, skulked around the area looking inside each open and empty prison cell, until he arrived at Fashik’s, confirming she wasn’t in here tonight.

  It was an easy task getting Fashik ready. Once he awoke and saw Kenneth with Kolu, he knew it was time; his excitement and unease mixed as he audibly gulped.

  First off were the hostages, all of whom were sleeping, Trafka being the only one to jolt awake at the sound of the key turning. His eyes narrowed in on Fashik as he bared his teeth, but as he saw Kenneth, he pulled them back. “What is this supposed to be?”

  Kenneth first replied with a gesture of quiet and whispered, “prison break.”

  “Do you think some ill thought-out attempt born of guilt, and threatening the disgrace is going to work out in any other way than blood and death. Kill him, close the cell, and think of something,” Trafka quietly ordered.

  However, Kenneth didn’t listen as he had Trafka’s restraints unlocked, their discussion waking the surrounding prisoners as they watched and waited. “If you want to stay here and be domesticated, go ahead, but don’t say I didn’t try.”

  “You're a fool,” Trafka said, standing up, “but I’ve been ready to get out of those chains for a while now. Let’s see what’s in store.”

  The other hostages came far more easily, some hesitant, others wondering if they were dreaming, and lastly, those filled with hope and almost weeping silently.

  “I knew you would get us out of there,” Rafk said, patting Kenneth on the shoulder as he got to his feet, the long captivity, rendering the ease of using them a bit more difficult, which was the same for everyone.

  However, Tragna, though happy, had other ideas regarding this prison break. “Perfect, under the cover of dark, we can take out all of them before they know what hit them, we can get weapons and—“

  “No,” Kenneth firmly yet quietly stopped him. “We are escaping, there will be no death or killing if we do this right, they won’t know we are gone until daybreak.”

  “…others…” Jago added, pointing to the cells further ahead.

  ‘Now, it’s time,’ without responding to Jago, he walked over to the prison cell and unlocked it.

  “Took you long enough.”

  “And good to see you kept quiet, and played along nicely, Ms. Sil.”

  Their small banter fell silent, however, as Trafka, seeing her free and beside Kenneth, walked forward with his claws and teeth out at Ms. Sil, responding in kind, her mandibles snapping back.

  “Stop it, both of you!” Kenneth quietly yelled, covering Ms. Sil’s mouth and holding out his hand to ward off Trafka.

  “What are you doing? It’s a heretic,” Trafka rather obviously pointed out.

  “Listen. I’m not going to debate generational long grudges or ideas of good and evil. Right now, we don't have the time. Both of you have to understand two simple things. We are all escaping, and right now we need numbers. I’ve seen what’s out there, and there’s more for sure. Any help to fight off Uzisnappers and whatever else could be the difference between us dying right when we step out, and making it to the ‘Flatlands’ understood,” Kenneth, in a commanding and deep voice, told everyone.

  Trafka glared menacingly, “If you think--"

  “Well, I don’t think, I’m telling you. You’ve failed twice in taking down the Nok, and each time I’ve been the one responsible for getting you out. This time, including, so swallow that damn pride of yours for one second, and get used to it,” Kenneth no longer told him, but demanded that he do. “Besides, they will be more agreeable to this than you. If they stay here, they’ll all die, so if you want to hate someone, hate the Nok, screw them over by escaping, and living to fight another day.”

  It was a hard pill to swallow for all, warring on both sides with blood and death wouldn't just go away with one speech; however, as the old saying went, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ yeah, that's some bulllshit. They would continue to hate each other, but as all cells were unlocked, it became obvious to everyone that there were four groups: Aki only, Sil only, those who mixed, and the ones who wouldn’t leave sitting with their unlocked callor still on, all of whom were Aki.

  With crossed arms, Kenneth watched, having been afraid of this, “Trafka, could you tell some story of the capital?”

  “I don’t think that will work,” Fashik came up behind him. “You cannot stir memories with these; all they have known are the stones.”

  “Is that pity in your voice?” Trafka commented.

  “How else can we get them to come quickly? There are still things that need to get done.”

  “You helped me rekindle my desires for freedom; I can ignite theirs. You do what you must do until then.”

  Kenneth and Fashik shared a glance before each went about their mission.

  Stepping up near the exit to get a little height, he could see everyone noticing how, despite a good deal not having joined yet, the mixed group outnumbered the two other groups, perhaps the reason a fight hadn’t broken out yet, in their minds, Aki and Sil alike, if they attacked, they would be decimated.

  Uneasy, hateful, and distrusting though this temporary alliance may be, it would have to work.

  “Okay,” Kenneth announced to everyone. “Right now, there are things we need to get, and so I need a couple of you to come with me. You have to be strong, fast, and able to hide at a moment's notice.”

  Though his voice didn’t reach far, it reached enough as Jago, Rafk, and Tragna stepped forward, Trafka as well, and a couple of Sil and Ms. Sil.

  “Good, now the rest of you, please stay here, and keep quiet and away from the entrance, you can't be discovered,” Kenneth told them all as this small group ventured out into the darkness, the plan in full swing.

  Everyone kept to the shadows; however, visibility wasn't Kenneth's main concern, but audibility, as Aki's claws and Sil’s shell tapped and clacked against the cold cobblestone.

  He wasn’t sure if they were just loud or if his vicinity and anxiety exacerbated everything, but even so, on more than one occasion, Kenneth had them slow down.

  Normally, he wasn’t much of a leader; the role more so one he had to take, but the fact that he was leading everyone as well as checking everywhere made him more exposed, more so because if he was spotted, there was some wiggle room, with being caught, most knowing him, and then being able to take care of them.

  Yet, regardless, they, at least for now, made it to the school, unseen.

  “What is this place and why are we here?” Rafk asked in a hushed voice the moment he saw Kenneth adopt a more relaxed pose as he walked normally.

  “It's where I’ve been teaching, and where we’ll get our supplies,” He answered them as he led them into the back room.

  “…food…” Jago said, sniffing the air, and immediately went over to the salted and preserved meat.

  Honestly, Kenneth wasn't sure how long it could hold; it hadn’t shown any signs of rot. He was lucky; the merchant came around before he had to figure out how to get some from the kitchen.

  “This place is a gold mine,” Rafk said in awe, his eyes, along with a couple of others, glinting with greed, at the sight of the salted meat, salt, shiny knick-knacks, and weapons.

  “What fool isn't having this place guarded?” Trafka scoffed. “And what is covering all the weapons?”

  “This one,” Kenneth answered his first question. “As for the second question, I’ve had the kids in here, and no way I’m running the risk of them bumping into a sharp edge, but you can just take it off; it’s just wrapped in plastic cloth.

  “Now let’s take what we need, the meat and the weapons, everything else is irrelevant.”

  He looked around at all of them, most putting some random shiny thing back where they took it.

  Now, while that was happening, Kenneth went over to all of the rolled-up papers and picked one up.

  “Jago,” he said as he walked over, holding the rolled-up map. “I remember hearing you used to help Solk with charting a route. I don’t know if you can read a Starchart, but I figured it was better to get it and not need it.”

  “…understand…” he replied, taking it and getting a look, his eyes narrowing before he raised his head, one of his ears flopping to the side as he stared back at him and turned the chart around, revealing all of the exposed constellations to everyone.

  “What do you want? I almost died getting that one already,” was a sentence he was far too calm saying.

  “Haha!!!” Rafk laughed.

  Suddenly, all in the room snapped around the closest, Tragna, and Ms. Sil clamping their hand and pincers around his snout. With heartbeats thumping loudly in everyone’s heads, all listened to the air, silent, all except for Rafk’s whimpering.

  “This heretic dumb, us should make silent, better as dead weight,” Ms. Sil said, her mandibles tapping.

  Growling in response, Tragna grabbed her arm, “I don’t know what you said, but let go.”

  “She called Rafk an idiot. Both of you let go of each other,” Kenneth Sterinly whispered.

  “You know what they are saying?” Both of them asked.

  “It’s called being bilingual, you should try it, then you can insult each other and understand it.” He raised an eyebrow, honestly wondering how that hadn’t registered on either of their radars.

  Meanwhile, Trafka chose a weapon, a sword, which he tied around his waist; the selection of hammers meant more for forging and very close combat, which was definitely not his style, but even so, he took one of them too.

  It signaled the others to start gathering what they could, weapons and food, being the priority if they were to last out there.

  To ensure nothing went wrong, they didn’t take more than they could carry, choosing to go a couple of times back and forth, until all of the supplies were gathered.

  “So what’s your plan for getting us out?” Trafka questioned, with a hint of disapproval.

  “The gates, but first, I think I’m going to need your help, only the two of us for now.”

  “Missed my company, have you?”

  “I preferred you when you were poisoned.”

  “Drunk.”

  “Potato, potato,” Kenneth shrugged, noticing Fashik was still talking to the reluctant slaves.

  “What is a potato?” Trafka asked in confusion.

  Not answering, Kenneth went around communicating that they had to stay put for now and be on alert, and let the word spread, before he and Trafka went back outside, sneaking all the way to the Grand Hall.

  “Killing the leader so they are in disarray when we escape,” Trafka whispered, hiding in the shadow near the entrance.

  “I said no death, I hoped I didn’t have to specify that meant no killing, besides, she isn't here, most everyone is down below, praying,” Kenneth replied, peaking around the corner, no one in sight.

  There was the hope they had abandoned their post, but he couldn’t take a risk like that and just walk in to be discovered like that.

  “Praying to their vile gods, I heard rumors in the cell, but those vile rituals, I can only imagine what they used all of those men and women for,” Trafka silently growled.

  Kenneth, on the other hand, knew the answer, and, within the realm of prayers to gods, that was one of the more tame ritualistic things to endure, not that it wasn’t horrible, but having your heart ripped out was more horrible.

  He would have answered but…

  “I win again.”

  ‘There is someone here,’ he thought, moving along the wall and keeping his mask from poking out, looking around the corner.

  There were two, like last time, both sitting and playing a game of overflow, tucked away in a corner, so if one of the commanders came to check, they could easily get up and probably pretend to make their rounds. However, sitting like that was perfect.

  “We can rush them before they come and make a sound,” Trafka said, hovering over him along the wall. “You take the one on the right, try and keep them quiet, I’ll kill the other and help you.”

  “You really don’t listen, no killing, just stand back and let me play them a lullaby,” he told him, pulling out his flute and two tiny EpiPens.

  Inserting the first into the hole, he blocked the eight other holes on top aimed around the corner and blew, hitting one of the guards in the back.

  One thing Kenneth had begun to take advantage of was the bag’s magical ability to create damn near any medical supply he wanted, but not only, making things impossible sizes, as with the EpiPens, but also out of a different material.

  So it didn’t matter if his aim was off and he hit a rough scale instead of the softer in between, a microscopic needle made of solid diamond shooting out at the tiniest pressure, would penetrate damn near anything.

  The effect was almost immediate, with the guard becoming sluggish.

  “What's wrong, you look…” before the other guard could finish, she fell over, spilling the water in the cup.

  Before the guard could yell or check, Kenneth tried to reload his flute, only for the EpiPen to slip from his fingers.

  Before he could grab it, Trafka took it and ran into the room, the guard jolting to see him trying to draw her weapon a couple of moments before he stabbed her.

  She staggered back with her eyes darting on him as she opened her mouth to yell, but was stopped at the last second, as Trafka wrapped his arm around her snout and wrestled her to the ground, continuously stabbing the EpiPen into her, with no results.

  Struggling but not done, she managed to draw her weapon and raise it up, Trafka’s claws extending ready to come for her throat, but before he could, her sword fell onto the ground, her body becoming limp.

  As he looked, Trafka’s and Kenneth’s eyes met, both working to get him out from under her. “A tip for next time, stab with the other end.”

  “Be glad I didn’t kill the brute,” Trafka snarled, kicking the unconscious guard.

  Now to the reason, Kenneth wanted Trafka along, he was a lot of muscle, in only one body, and combined they managed to, with ease, get the stone door open and sneak down into Nokuji’s home.

  No one should be here, but it didn’t stop Kenneth from walking all the way to the end room cautiously, Trafka halting behind for a moment, looking around before joining.

  “You're familiar with this place,” He said questioningly.

  “It should be behind here,” Kenneth said, grabbing the handle on the door with Trafka joining a moment later.

  The stone grinded as they opened, digging their feet into the sand, a crack appearing with Kenneth sticking his hand through and pushing from the other side, but before they could open, a sound from behind caught both of their attention.

  And as they looked back, frozen, they saw the door to Nokoovo’s room slowly begin to open.

  Hello, beautiful people, be a minute.

  Well i just wanted to let everyone know I've launched a Patreon, or well and updated Patreon which offers 3 to 10 chapters/weeks ahead as well as by monthly art polls, and since this will be the first one of these i'll do it will be free for all patreon memeber's to come and offer suggestions to scenes or characters you all would like to have illustrated.