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“So he’s their prisoner?” Shit. I can’t even begin to imagine what these monsters will do to him. The Raiders are brutes. They pillage, kill, and torture for fun... the only law they know is that of the strongest.

“I guess so,” Wilson chimes in, “but don’t worry. He doesn’t know anything useful. Even if they torture him, he’s not gonna tell them anything they don’t already know.”

I glare at him. “Do you even hear yourself? They’re going to torture him, but hey! It’s okay! It won’t impact us personally, so who cares?” I shake my head in disgust.

“That’s not what I meant,” Wilson amends, “but you have to admit, he’s not a big loss. I mean…”

I walk away, not wanting to hear any more. I don’t understand how people can still judge Reno for things he did all those years ago. He was just a child. He didn’t know any better. Of course his habit of getting into fights was bad. Violence is never the answer, and it’s always better to look for a peaceful solution. But an angry child won’t understand that. And yes, Reno is still angry as an adult, but who wouldn’t be when half the village still sees you as the problem child they branded you to be? Don’t they notice he hasn’t gotten into an actual fight in years?

Even when he was a child, he wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. I was a sensitive, introverted boy. I wasn't strong, I was terrible at sports, and I did poorly in school in general—and I cried easily. Not the kind of person other children crowd to be friends with. Yet Reno gave me half his ration once when some bigger kids stole mine, and he got me to an adult when I couldn’t stop crying after I fell and hurt my knee. He even encouraged me to try and become a doctor when I doubted I was good enough to do it. And he was right. I always wanted to be able to help others, and learning something I was passionate about through hands-on study under a mentor worked much better for me than listening to a teacher all day long. Reno can be really kind when he wants to. When he’s not being treated like dirt.

My steps lead me to Anne Rochat's quarters. She is a friend of mine and a member of the council that runs the village. Just the person I need to talk to. Anne is a bit older than me. I met her through Mira, my mentor who taught me everything I know about medicine. I've always found it easier to connect with older or younger people, for one reason or another. Maybe it's because, deep down, I always expect people my age to make fun of my sensitivity. That was a long time ago, though. No one has mocked me for it since I left childhood behind. But just because they don’t openly mock me doesn’t mean they don’t think I’m weak.

I knock on the door and wait, running a hand through my thick black curls impatiently. I hope she's there.

The door opens, and Anne’s burly figure welcomes me with a big smile. “Nasir! It’s so nice to see you. Come in. How are you?”

I follow her inside. Her quarters are nice. Pretty big, with solar-powered electricity, a kitchen, a bathroom. Everything. “There’s been an attack outside,” I inform her. “One of the foragers didn’t make it back. Reno.”

“Oh. What a pity.” Her face turns solemn. “I’m sorry, Nasir. I know you liked him a lot. Are you okay?”

I shake my head. “He’s not dead, Anne. At least, I don’t think he is. One of the foragers, Joy, said the Raiders took him.”

“Took him?” Anne repeats, creasing her brows. “There hasn’t been a kidnapping in years. The Raiders kill, they steal, but why would they bother taking someone? Are they hoping that poor Reno has any information about us?”

“It doesn’t matter. We can’t leave him.” I grab Anne’s hand, striving to convince her. “We have to put a rescue team together. Maybe we can talk to them. Convince them to give him back. Some kind of trade.”

Anne squeezes my hand, giving me a sad smile. My heart sinks. I know what she’s going to say before she even opens her mouth. “I’m sorry, Nasir. I really am. It’s too dangerous. Even if we did try to help him, the Raiders will have realized that Reno knows nothing useful by the time we’re ready. I hate to say this, but he’ll be dead long before we can reach him. I know it’s hard, but it’s better if you consider him to be dead already. He will be soon anyway.”

I quickly pull my hand away from hers. “I get it,” I snap. “Reno’s not important enough to waste resources on, right? I thought you were different, but you’re just like everyone else. I bet you’re relieved he's gone, aren’t you?”

I’m being unfair, I know it. Anne has never been mean or unjust to Reno, and even though she is not close to him, I know she does not hold him responsible for mistakes he made in his youth. Still, seeing her so calm, finding reasons to give up on him like he means nothing makes my blood boil.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Anne calls after me as I turn around, but I don’t listen. I storm out and slam the door. I’ll apologize later, I know I will, but for now I can’t keep listening to her excuses. I know that as a member of the council, she has to do what’s best for Elign as a whole, but Reno is part of Elign too.

Reno Thiers

I’m exhausted. How long have I been in this cell? One week? Two? A month? Time is a blur. Everything hurts. They barely let me sleep and feed me just enough to keep me alive.

The worst part is that I don’t understand what they want from me. They don’t ask questions. They just hurt me and leave.

My cell’s door opens, and Cirail Montgomery walks in, his dark green eyes shining with malevolent intent. He’s the leader of the Raiders, the one everyone says killed one of his own men for looking at him wrong. A very dumb move, if you ask me. Back at camp, I thought it was just some stupid rumor. Now, I’m not so sure anymore.

Cirail bends forward and looks at me up and down with a smirk. “So, are you ready to be a good toy for us?”

It’s the first time he actually asks me something instead of just torturing me, and I don’t like the sound of it in the slightest. I don’t know what game he’s trying to play, but I want no part in it. “Fuck you,” I spit, glaring at him.

Cirail’s smile widens. He arches his head back and runs his fingers through his ginger hair. “Wrong answer. Looks like you need some more convincing then.”

My heart rises to my throat as a sickening realization hits me: if I had said yes, the torture could have stopped. How could I be stupid enough not to see that? I don’t know what he would have done instead, and I’m too exhausted to think about it. I just want the pain to stop. I want to sleep for more than a couple of hours. To eat and drink. To not be in pain every minute of every day.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry!” I beg. “I’ll be a good toy, I swear! I’ll be the best toy ever! Just stop, please. I can’t… I can’t take it anymore! Please!”

“Too late, bitch.” Cirail reaches for a small blowtorch. “Maybe next time you’ll pick a better answer.”

He snaps his fingers, and two burly men walk in to restrain me. I jerk away from their touch, but I’m in no state to resist. They have me pressed against the damp ground, unable to move an inch as their weight presses down on my body, suffocating me.

My heart races before Cirail even has time to turn his blowtorch on. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. I just want the pain to stop.