Black Tar Prophecy

Nine years later....

"Mazbeth? Mazbeth, please, answer me!"

Mazbeth could only see blackness surrounding his vision, as a throbbing headache echoed in the his skull, dully thudding in discomfort. He could hear the pulsing of the blood vessels in his head beat, almost hypnotically, as he refused to open his tired, sagging eye lids. He knew it was his sister that was calling him, even subconsciously he could tell her melodious voice apart from anywhere, but his painful headache and sore body demanded rest.

"Mazbeth, please say something to me!"

He couldn't refuse her anymore, slowly tearing his eyelids apart, sealed by the sand of sleep, and attempted to lift his "paws" up to rub the irritants from his eyes, yet was met with a stiff movement from his arms and the rattling of chains. His eyes shit open at once, as he let out a loud gasp in shock, thrashing his arms rapidly in a feeble attempt to remove the iron shackles from him. Trying to kick, he noticed that his legs were also shackled to a creaking, old wooden floor.

"Hey, keep that shit down, some of us our trying to sleep here!"

"Yeah, do you want the Slave Driver to send guards back here?!"

Tearing his head upwards, Mazbeth turned to see where exactly he was. All around him, lined up on two long sets of benches, were different species, ranging from Griffons, Diamond Dogs, even a few Equestrians and a Changelings, all sitting in what seemed to be a giant cage. And not just any cage, but a moving one, as he could tell by the bumps be would feel every time a rock or hole in the road they were traveling on was struck. Turning sharply to his left, in the row across from him was his sister, Poppy, as well as his brother Kay.

Poppy was staring at him, a deeply troubled look on her face, the beautiful white fur on her cheeks matted with tears and dirt, the dress she wore and filthy. Kay was looking at him to, his once brilliant and shining armor so thoroughly polished and pristine discarded for torn and dirty rags, his black paws tightening in anger.

"Maz, are you alright?" He hurriedly asked, shaking slightly in an attempt to test his own iron bonds.

"Ugh, yeah, I think," Mazbeth replied sluggishly, as his eyes tightened again when another wave of pain crashed through his skull, "My head hurts like hell, though."

"You're bleeding, sweetie," Poppy replied in a whimper, trying to reach out her paws to grasp his, but the shortness of the chain attached to her wrists prevented her from the contact she desired.

"She's right Maz, those bastards hurt you!" Kay snarled, once again shaking his chains in frustration.

"Hey, calm the hell down over there, you're just bring attention to us!" A minotaur shouted from down the line at Kay's loud attempts at struggling, "You'll get one or more of us killed!"

Kay wanted to shout back at the damned bull, instead settling himself down in an uncomfortable silence as the wagon continued on. Mazbeth finally realized that the side of his was slightly damn, as a small drop of blood dripped from the tip of a strand of hair, and dropped into his lap. He wanted to grab his head and place pressure on the wound, but the chains prevented him from doing so. He could only lean his back against the sides of the cage and once again close his eyes, and try to think. To think about all that happened.

"Are you two alright?" He asked his siblings, as he tried to keep the grief out of the tone of his voice.

"I'm a little ruffed up, but fine for the most part," Kay responded, his tone tired and fatigued, "I can't say the same for my squad, though. The Minotauri barely left any of us alive."

His gaze hardened at the mention of his doomed squad of Knights. The last few days had been nothing short of hell, even since The Seven Towers were breached on the Northern border, and to be taken as a Minotauri prisoner at that! Kay felt a deep sense of shame at the abandoning of his post, of his brothers-in-arms, but he had a choice to make, and he made it. A choice that lost his honor, his title, and soon enough, his family.

"I...I'll live," Poppy replied, trying to fix the tattered remnants of the dress she once wore.

She remembered when she first got that dress with her mother, the last time that they visited the capital with their father. Kay was already a Knight by that point and Mazbeth was in the process of squiring for one, so she was allowed to get even further acquainted with the family's business practices, in hopes that she would one day take over the trading network. Closing her eyes, she recalled the stroll her and her mother took, walking amongst the buildings and shops of the capital, Arkon, and seeing the dress in one of the boutique's windows. It was a simple dress, but there was beauty in it's simplicity, and when we tried it on, she loved it. It was a reminder of her mother, of her family, of the life she was ready to live.

And not it was a tattered mess, mud splattered and worn, all radiance of it's previous beauty ruined by the treatment by the paws of the Minotauri. It wasn't just a torn dress, but was a symbol of a life she may never reclaim.

She began to softly weep, for her herself and for her family, and all the dead that littered her home village.

"W-what are they gonna do with us?" She asked with a sharp sob, leaning against Kay for comfort. Mazbeth's heart tore at the sight of his beloved sister so hurt and broken, and unable to offer any comfort of his own, besides empty words that would mean nothing.

"Most likely we're heading towards the slave market in Treajen," An older griffon responded from his seat, looking towards the trio of siblings, "I take it you lot were taken in a raid?"

The reminder of the attack on their home, the sacking of their village and the pillaging of their mines crushed the siblings even further, drawing more tears from Poppy's eyes and renewed struggle by the two brothers two escape their iron bonds. The pounding in Mazbeth's head returned once again with a renewed vigor, as he thrashed about in retaliation.

"I see," the old griffon murmured, shaking his head softly, causing the chains that surrounded his body to clink dully on the floor, "I'm sorry that this happened, but there's no use tuckering yourselves out. We still have a long way to the capital."

"And to be bought and sold like livestock," Poppy wept, wringing her paws together as she buried her snout into Kay's shoulder. Several of the other slaves looked to the young Diamond Dog female with pity, each also dep in their own sorrows at their situation.

"Where's mother and father?" asked Mazbeth, looking around for the two older Diamond Dogs amongst the crowd of slaves, but unable to find. Fear welled up in the pit of his stomach at the thought of them being killed.

"Please, please, tell me they're still alive! Please!"

"Maz, calm down!" Kay barked in an attempt to soothe his brother, cursing the chains that help him back from comforting him, "They're in the wagon behind us. We're part of a whole slave caravan, so they couldn't them here with us. Hopefully we'll see them soon."

"These bastards better not have hurt them!"

At once, the wagon came to a sharp, sudden stop, sending some of the slaves crashing into the bars of the cage with a painful thud. Confused, the slaves turned to look as three large Minotaurs stood in front of the cart, backs turned to the prisoners inside. The two smaller Minotaurs carried long, curved lances at in their paws, each adorned with a single leather pauldron, extending down the length of their left forearms, as well as short, armored battle skirts, refined with strips of metal paint. The larger of the three, or so the trio of siblings thought, was fearsome to behold. His short, dark blue fur was covered in tattoos and brands, each depicting eithers words in the old Minotaur language, or depitctions of battle and war. The large Minotaur stood a towering eight feet, a head taller then his two companions, adorned in various pieces of hardened, hyrdra leather armor, and a large, ghastly helm upon his head, covering his face completely.
Only his eyes could be seen through the helmet, bright and blue, a stark contrast to the armor and scars upon his body.

"So, you are sure of this meeting, then?" The large bull asked ones the smaller ones, "You see no deception in this adventure of yours?"

"Father, I'm completely sure!" The small one replied, his long braided pony tail saying in his excitement, "I've met this Abinchova griffon a few times, selling swords and such to him. The Northern Rebels have the coin."

"I think it's a fool errand, and you're going to get yourself killed, Abban," The other bull replied, leaning upon his spear for support as he adjusted the thong on his sandal.

"Oh, shut up, Dethen! At least I have the balls to go seek out my fortune!"

"Your balls are the size of mustards seeds!"

"Take that back!"

"SILENCE!" The Minotaur bellowed, rattling all in the area. Several armored guards rushed up, their battle skirts and chain mail rustling as the dashed up, before they halted by the large one' s paw, ordering them to back down. Mazbeth could only watch as the guards left to return to their posts, trying his best to get a good look at the commotion behind him, the chains forcing him to face the opposite direction.

"What's happening?" He whispered to Kay, who sat with a hardened glare at the large Minotaur.

"That's the one who led the attack on the village," He replied, as he gazed at the trio with a fury he could barely restrain, "In the capital, he's simply dubbed Luke the Drifter. He's the Minotauri Empress's personal Slave Master, who drifts through all the borders of the Empire's lands, and raids villages for prisoners to collect."

"The Slave Master is here in the flesh?! Five kingdoms have a bounty on his head!"

"Quiet, you idiot do you want them to he--" The older griffon interjected, before the loud stomps of hooves approached the sides of the cage. The prisoners all began to huddle in fear as the great bull, Luke, peered into the cage. His bright blue eyes scanned the group of chained slaves, all diverting their gazes to the floor boards of the cart, expect for the dark brown eyes of Kay, Mazbeth, and the older griffon, you matched his stare with ones of their own.

"Humph, you see that, sons? Now that takes balls," The bull said with a short laugh, his two sons looking at the defiant prisoners with outrage at their disrespect.

"Should be beat them father for their insult?" The smaller one, called Abban, asked, turning his spear around and bashing the end of it into the back of Mazbeth's head, causing Mazbeth to let out a grunt of pain as he was forced forward. Poppy let out at yelp as her little brother sagged forward, Kay snarling at the three Minotauri. The three bulls could only look at the lot with bemused smirks at their helplessness.

"Nay, leave 'em be, they're of no worth broken before market. They're up for a lifetime of suffering, anyway, so let 'em have this."

"I swear, you'll die for this one day, you piece of shit," Kay barked, tears if rage gleaming at the corners of his eyes as beheld the unconscious form of their brother, more blood dripping from the wound on his head.

Luke narrowed his eyes at the Diamond Dog, challenging his look of fury with a face of nonchalantness that betrayed what he felt at the remark. The bull's "mercy" was at his end, and never suffered a slave to back talk to him with such impiety. He'd have to do something about this, before other slaves get the same idea.

"On second thought, bring those two, and the freak, as well as the parents. We gotta make an example out of this."

"Of course, father," he smaller bull Dethen replied, before sharply whistling for the other guards, "Bulls! Bring these three pieces of filth out of their cages, as well as the Great Raynard and his mate. We gotta show to put on!"

In a rush, the gates of the cage are torn open, and four additional guards entered inside, forcefully shoving past prisoners until reaching the trio of siblings. Raising fists, they began to beat Kay down, forcing him into Submission, as Poppy tried her best to place herself in front of her brother, in an attempt to take some of the blows herself.

"Please, don't hurt him anymore! We'll go quietly," She cried, blood running down her lip, before she and Kay were forcibly ripped from the chains that held them, and dragged outside the wagon onto the grass of the field the wagon train had stopped in. Before they could begin to unbuckle Mazbeth, Luke stopped with a loud rang against the metal bars of the cage with his scimitar.

"On second thought, leave that one right where he is. I want him to see this from right where he is, in a slave's box."

"Yes, sir," They responded, rechaining the locks back onto Mazbeth's feet and wrists, and slamming the cage shut with a loud clang. Outside the cage, Kay and Poppy lie on their knees, turned to their bleeding brother barely moving in his imprisonment, before shouting from their left grabs their attention. From the other wagon, a chained Raynard and Jadine, both bound with chains, were dragged by Dethen and Abban, and forcibly shoved on their knees next to their children.

Raynard's tunic and trousers, once pristine and handsome, were as dirtied nd torn as the other slaves, as were his jewelry and clan ring confiscated and placed into the slavers' treasure stockade. Jadine's dress was also torn and dirtied, her jewelery as well stolen and stored away. Reunited, the family leaned against one another, elated to be partially together again despite the situation.

"By the Old Gods, are you two alright?" Raynard exclaimed, trying to her encircle his children despite his bound paws.

"Where's your brother?" Jadine shouted, as the guards came forth and separated them again, cruelly kicking Raynard to the ground. Poppy and Jadine screeched in response, as Kay tried to cover his father with his body, snarling at the guards.

"Don't break that one, he's the one the Empress wants," Luke said, walking towards the family, "Wake the freak up, I don't want him to miss this."

Mazbeth, teetering on the edge of consciousness, jolted in shock as ice cold water drenched his body, followed by the harsh laugh by one Minotaur guards. Shivering from the cold, with old blood washing down the side of his face, Mazbeth gasped loudly as a large paw grabbed the back of his head, and forcibly turned into towards the fields outside his cage.

His whole family lay kneeling beneath the spears and polearms of several Minotaur guards, as the one called Luke stood before them, a jagged and chipped scimitar drawn and clutched tightly in his paw.

"This is one of yours, Bossk," Luke remarked, turning the scimitar in his grip and showing it to Raynard, who avoided the look of the large bull, "Had commissioned years back, when the Empire was barely expanding westward. Did you ever think you'd see again, yet this time at your neck?"

Raynard let out a sigh, before raising his eyes to meet the bull's.

"And why are we here? What do yo want with me and my family?"

The bull twisted the sharped edge of the scimitar under Raynard's chin, the sound of it scraping against the fur of his throat almost deafening to the children, before remarking to him.

"You are who the empress requires, smith. Your family was just a bonus, caught in the raid and meat to sell to others. Your boys, though, said somethings that I don't like to hear, so I think a lesson is in order."

"Please, don't hurt them," Jadine wailed, tears flowing from her eyes at the thought of her children maimed, "Do what you want to me, but please not my children!"

The bull regarded her plea for a moment, before walking over to Kay. Kay stood in defiance to the Luke, his body stern and posture straight, befitting the knight he used to be. The blue eyes of the bull looked down, seeing the rebellious form of the Dog at his hooves, lowering his jaw to speak to him.

"Your mother's brave to say that, pup, and I'll indulge her request. Now's the chance to say your goodbyes."

"Wait! Please! No!"

The bull left the side of Kay, and moved back towards Jadine, his scimitar gleaming in the light of the moon as he angled it upwards. The family watched in horror as Luke placed the blade at the base of Jadine's neck. Mazbeth could only watch as his mother kneeled, waiting for the fatal strike. Her eyes met his, tears running down her cheeks, as she offered him a small, comforting smile.

"I lo--" Her voice was cut as the blade of the scimitar carved through her flesh and bone, her heading falling to the ground with a soft thud. The screams of the family pierced the night air, as Luke brought a cloth to the blade of his sword, and wiping Jadine's blood from the steel.

"Maybe you'll learn a lesson in humility, boy, because that, that right there, that was true sacrifice."

Kay, Raynard and Poppy could only cry out in horror, staring at the lifeless corpse of Jadine sprawled on the floor. Mazbeth's eyes were still locked onto his mother's, who's dull irises bore a hole into him. The light in them that belonged to his mother were gone, and could only cast a dull reflection of the suffering around the wagon train.

"Alright boy, you said you were to head up north to meet this griffon fellow," Luke said, turning away from the grieving family and back to his sons, "Well, take one of the wagons, as well as those two with you, and try and squeeze a good price from them. You have my blessing n this venture of yours."

Abban grinned at his Luke with excitement, rushing up to embrace him in a strong hug.

"Thank you, father, I won't let you down, and I'll return with gold and more when I come back! I promise!"

"I know you will, boy, I love you. Go with him, Dethen, and keep 'em out of trouble."

"Yes father ," the replied, before grabbing the two siblings and dragging them to the last wagon at the end of the caravan, "We'll make you proud, sir."

The two siblings screamed, fighting and struggling against the grip of the Minotaur, staring at the corpse of their mother, and their father and brother that were being left behind.

"Father! Mazbeth!" Poppy yelled, before a rag was stuffed cruelly into her maw and held in place by a long strip of dirty cloth, muffling her screams.

"We'll find you! We'll find you again," Kay managed to exclaim before his speech was also silenced, before Poppy and himself were thrown and locked into the back of the cart.

"Remember boys, It's a week until you reach Allerseen, so be back in three, to prepare for the next raid. I'll take the rest of these lot to Treajen, and we'll meet at the House Primordial. Take care you, two."

The two young slavers waved off their father, diverting two carts of provisions, twelve guards, and the muffled screams of the prisoners, as they departed up the Northern Road and beyond Luke's line of sight.

"I wish those two well," the old bull mumbled to himself, before turning back to his remaining guard. He observed the quiet, traumatized form of Raynard still at is feet, offering him a strong, quick kick to the chest, "Get this scum back in his cage and get us moving again. We've still got another day of travel until the slave markets."

"And what of the dead one, sir?" One of the guards asked, pointing to the body of Jadine on the floor.

"Ah, just leave it there, some scavenger will want it. Wouldn't wanna cheat them out of a meal."

And with that, Luke the Drifter returned to his position at the head of the raiding party, and reset the pace, causing Mazbeth's wagon to jump and shake once more. Mazbeth never took his eyes off the corpse of his mother, as she became enshrouded with dust from the wheels of the cart, and drifting off past eyesight. Even when they were league beyond, he didn't stop looking.

Something in him died that night; and would leave him with nightmares long after he drifted off into a fretful sleep, replaying the death of his mother again and again. The older griffon chained by him watched the saddened creature with pity, as he gave a gentle nuzzle of comfort to the dark mane atop his head. The light of the next morning would only bring more madness, and the griffon could only hope that they all would be ready for it.