LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 7: Chapter 7
The unease that had settled over Whisperwind Quarry with the announcement of Morian's arrival hadn't dissipated; it had curdled. The air itself seemed thicker, heavier with a silent dread. Corvus felt it pressing down on him, a physical weight mirroring the anxiety gnawing at his insides. He swung his pickaxe with more force than necessary, the rhythmic clang a desperate attempt to drown out the memory of the sobbing ward.
He glanced over at Elara. She was working steadily, her movements economical and precise, just as she'd taught him. There was a tightness around her mouth he hadn't seen before, a subtle grimness that spoke volumes. He wanted to say something, offer some comfort, but the words caught in his throat. What could he say? That everything would be alright? That was a lie, and they both knew it.
Grok's shadow fell across Corvus's workspace. The overseer's presence was like a carrion bird circling overhead, waiting for weakness. Corvus met his gaze, forcing himself to maintain eye contact, to project the strength Elara had emphasized. Grok's lips peeled back in a mirthless smile. "Working hard, are we? Good. Quarry Master Morian appreciates diligence." He lingered a moment longer, his eyes boring into Corvus, before moving on.
Corvus let out a slow breath, the tension slowly easing from his shoulders. He returned to his work, focusing on the feel of the pickaxe in his hands, the resistance of the aetherstone. He tried to filter aether into his swings, but Grok's scrutiny had shaken him. His control was shaky, the flow uneven. He risked drawing too much attention. He forced himself to slow down, to focus on the basics, just like Elara had instructed.
He heard a commotion nearby. A shout, followed by a sickening thud. Corvus turned to see a group of wards gathered around a fallen figure. He recognized him as one of the younger wards, barely more than a child. Grok stood over him, his face contorted with rage. "Incompetent fool!" he bellowed. "You break the tools, you pay the price!"
The ward whimpered, clutching his arm. His pickaxe lay shattered beside him, the metal head snapped clean off. Corvus felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach. A broken tool wasn't just a mistake; it was a crime. A crime against the quarry, against Morian.
Grok grabbed the ward by the scruff of his neck and dragged him towards the center of the quarry. The other wards shrank back, their eyes wide with fear. Elara's hand tightened on her pickaxe, her knuckles white. Corvus saw the flicker of something in her eyes, a spark of defiance quickly suppressed.
Grok shoved the ward to his knees. "A lesson for all of you!" he roared. "Failure will not be tolerated! Laziness will be punished! The Quarry Master demands results!" He signaled to two burly guards, who stepped forward with grim expressions. They each grabbed one of the ward's arms and forced them behind his back.
Corvus watched, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew what was coming. He'd heard the stories, the whispers of punishments meted out in the name of order and efficiency. The guards produced a thin, leather whip. The ward began to sob, his body trembling. Grok nodded, and the whip cracked through the air.
The sound was sharp and brutal, cutting through the rhythmic clang of the pickaxes. The ward screamed, a high-pitched, desperate sound that echoed through the quarry. Corvus flinched, averting his eyes. He couldn't watch. He focused on the cold, unyielding stone in front of him, trying to block out the screams, the sickening thud of the whip.
The punishment continued, each crack of the whip a stark reminder of the price of failure, the cost of incompetence. Corvus felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He understood, with a chilling clarity, the precariousness of his position. He couldn't afford to make mistakes. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself. He had to be perfect. He had to survive.
The whipping finally stopped. The ward lay slumped on the ground, his body bruised and bleeding. Grok surveyed the scene with satisfaction. "Let that be a lesson to all of you," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Now, get back to work!"
The wards scrambled back to their stations, their movements hurried and fearful. The only sound was the clang of pickaxes, louder now, more frantic. Corvus resumed his work, his hands shaking slightly. He glanced at Elara. She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of pity and warning. He knew what she was trying to tell him: keep your head down, and survive.
Brim and Krog, who had been watching with a mixture of amusement and anticipation, returned to their work as well. Brim gave Corvus a sideways glance, a smirk playing on his lips. Corvus ignored him, focusing on the stone. He needed to be careful. More careful than ever before. The price of failure was too high.