“Great acts are made up of small deeds.” — Lao Tzu Riven woke to a throbbing pain in his right hand.
For a moment, he forgot where he was.
Then he tried to move his fingers, and the pain immediately reminded him.
The mines.
The rock.
His plan.
He slowly sat up, holding his injured hand against his chest.
It had swollen considerably overnight, and even the slightest movement sent a sharp pain through it.
“Shit…” He looked around the slave quarters.
Most of the other slaves were already awake, preparing for another day of work.
A few glanced in his direction before returning to their own business.
He wondered whether he had made a mistake.
The injury was worse than he had expected.
He had known it would hurt, but experiencing it firsthand was another matter entirely.
Still, he couldn’t take it back now.
He needed to make the most of the opportunity.
Breakfast was just as unpleasant as usual.
Riven sat with the other slaves, holding his bowl in his right hand and struggling to eat with his left hand resting in his lap.
The watery soup was barely warm, and the bread was stale.
Normally, he would have finished eating as quickly as possible, but his injured hand made everything more difficult.
By the time he finished, the guards had already begun gathering the slaves.
“Everyone up!
Get moving!” Riven stood with the others, wondering what would happen to him.
He didn’t have to wait long.
One of the guards approached and looked at his swollen hand.
“You’re the one who hurt himself yesterday, aren’t you?” Riven nodded.
“Let me see it.” He reluctantly held out his hand.
The guard examined it briefly before clicking his tongue.
“You’re not going to be much use in the mines like that.” Riven kept quiet.
“Come with me.
You’ll be doing something else until that thing heals.” He followed the guard, trying not to look too pleased.
It seemed his plan had worked.
The guard led him across the courtyard, away from the entrance to the mines.
Riven recognized the direction immediately.
The storage hall.
He couldn’t help but feel a little excitement as they approached the building.
After spending so much time wondering how he could get inside again, he was finally being given the opportunity.
The guard opened the large wooden doors and motioned for him to enter.
“Don’t just stand there.
Get inside.” Riven hurried in.
The familiar smell of grain, wood, and dust filled his nose.
The storage hall looked much the same as it had the last time he was there, with crates and sacks stacked throughout the building.
Several slaves were already working.
One was organizing sacks of grain, while another was carrying a bundle of tools toward the back of the room.
A third slave was sorting through a collection of smaller supplies.
The guard pointed toward them.
“You’re working with these people today.
You’ll be carrying supplies and organizing whatever they tell you to.
Riven nodded.
“And don’t think you can use that injury as an excuse to sit around.
If I catch you slacking off, you’ll be back in the mines before you know it.” The guard gave him one last look before leaving.
Riven watched him go.
Now that he was finally inside, he needed to be careful.
He couldn’t afford to attract attention.
One of the older slaves approached him.
“You’re the new one?” Riven nodded.
“Yes.” “What’s wrong with your hand?” “I injured it while working in the mines.” The slave looked at his swollen fingers.
“Looks painful.” “It is.” “Well, you’ll have to make do with your other hand.
Come on.
I’ll show you what needs doing.” The man led him toward a stack of crates.
“These need to be sorted.
The ones with food go over there, and the tools go toward the back.
Don’t mix anything up.” Riven nodded and began working.
At first, the task was difficult.
His injured hand made it awkward to carry even the smaller crates, so he had to rely almost entirely on his left hand.
And even then, his weak frame struggled to carry the weight.
However, the work was considerably easier than mining.
He didn’t have to swing a hammer or crawl through narrow tunnels.
He simply needed to move supplies and place them where they belonged.
More importantly, he had an opportunity to observe the building.
While sorting through the supplies, Riven carefully examined his surroundings.
There were several sections in the storage hall, each containing different materials.
The food was kept near the front, where it was easy to access when the slaves needed their daily rations.
The tools were stored farther inside, arranged in large wooden containers.
There were also stacks of lumber, bundles of rope, spare equipment, and various resources used to maintain the camp.
And then there was the fuel.
Riven remembered seeing the barrels during his previous visit.
They were still stored near the back of the building, separated from most of the other supplies.
Several smaller containers sat beside them.
He glanced at them briefly before returning to his work.
He needed to be careful.
The guards might not be watching him every second, but that didn’t mean they weren’t paying attention.
As the morning passed, Riven continued sorting supplies.
Occasionally, a guard would enter the storage hall to check on the workers or inspect the goods.
Each time one appeared, Riven made sure to focus entirely on his task.
He didn’t want anyone wondering why a five-year-old slave was so interested in the building.
During one of his trips toward the back, he noticed something he hadn’t paid much attention to before.
A window.
Riven stared at it for a moment.
Could that a way to sneak in?
He quickly dismissed the thought.
Even if it led outside, there was no guarantee it would be useful.
It might simply open into another guarded section of the camp.
Still, it was worth remembering.
He returned to his work, keeping the location of the window in mind.
As the day continued, Riven began to normalize himself with the storage hall’s routine.
Whenever a new shipment arrived, the workers became much busier.
Crates were carried inside, sacks were moved around, and the guards spent more time checking the supplies.
When there were no deliveries, the work slowed down considerably.
Some of the slaves were allowed to organize supplies without a guard standing directly beside them.
Others were occasionally sent to retrieve materials from different parts of the building.
The guards still entered regularly, but they didn’t seem particularly concerned as long as everyone continued working.
Riven found this encouraging.
However, he still had to be careful.
He was reminded of that when one of the guards suddenly approached him.
“What are you looking at?” Riven immediately turned toward him.
“Nothing, sir.” The guard narrowed his eyes.
“Then why are you standing around?” Riven looked down at the crate in front of him.
“I was just trying to figure out where this goes.” “Then figure it out and get back to work.” “Yes, sir.” The guard watched him for another moment before walking away.
Riven let out a quiet breath.
He had been too careless.
For the rest of the afternoon, he focused entirely on his assigned work.
He moved crates, organized supplies, and did his best to avoid drawing attention to himself.
By the time the workday ended, his injured hand was aching badly.
He was relieved when the guards finally ordered everyone to stop.
“That’s enough!
Everyone back to the quarters!” Riven followed the other slaves outside.
He glanced back at the storage hall as he walked away.
He had learned quite a bit during his first day there.
He knew where the food and tools were stored.
He had found the fuel barrels again, and he had discovered a small window at the back of the building.
It wasn’t much, but it was progress.
When he returned to the slave quarters, he sat down in his usual spot and carefully examined his injured hand.
It was still swollen, and the pain hadn’t improved much.
He wondered how long it would take to heal.
Hopefully, not too long.
He needed to remain in the storage hall for as long as possible.
If he was sent back to the mines too soon, he would lose the opportunity he had worked so hard to obtain.
Riven leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
His plan was still far from complete.
He knew that setting fire to the storage hall could create a distraction, but he still needed to figure out how to escape once the guards were distracted.
And there was still the problem of the guards.
He couldn’t simply walk out of the camp while they were distracted.
He needed to find a way past them without being caught.
For now, he would continue observing.
He had already made more progress than he had during the previous week.
Perhaps, if he was patient, he would eventually find the opportunity he needed.
Riven opened his eyes and looked toward the entrance of the slave quarters.
He wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life in this place.
He would escape.
No matter what it took.
A/N thank you all for 1000 views I didn’t think wed reach this milestone so quick.