Omid ran the entire slaughterhouse property which was owned by the Baron of Rivas. Ravan hid his apprehension well as he gazed at the wooden buildings, the stone well, the farm animals, and the large number of workers. He had always been successful at shoving his emotions deep within him since dealing with the earl's sons, and he sensed he'd be doing this often while working here. Once the coach rolled up to the property, Omid showed Ravan to the bunk house where he would be sleeping, which was a structure with no rooms shared among eighteen other boys who also worked there. After Ravan was settled, Omid gave him a tour of the location and its routine.

"Don't fret, Boy," he said as he led Ravan outside. "Everyone only works here until they hit twenty years of age and then I let them go their own way. Of course, you're always more than welcome to stay and make this your official means of employment, and some do, but I generally prefer adolescents because they work well and they don't have big heads."

Ravan was relieved to hear that he wouldn't be expected to spend the rest of his life at this place if he didn't want to, but he attempted not to express this relief to Omid, which was especially difficult as they entered the slaughterhouse itself.

"The system here is simple," Omid continued. "Every night, the farmers on the Rivas countryside deliver their livestock ready for slaughter to me. Early every morning, you boys will come here and slaughter them, load them onto my carriages and wagons which will be parked out back, and I deliver the meat to where it needs to go. Then, you boys will spend the rest of the day cleaning up, doing various chores, and prepare for the next delivery."

As Omid explained, Ravan watched the boys clean up blood, fecal matter, and entrails which resulted from that morning's slaughter. He couldn't bring himself to make eye-contact with any of them and crinkled his nose at the sordid stench of copper, rot, and excretion.

"We have a delivery tonight, so you will help unload it," Omid went on. "Then tomorrow morning you will attend your first slaughter and learn how it's done. In the meantime, you can help the lads clean up from this morning's kills."

With that, Omid left Ravan there with the other boys of various ages not exactly knowing what to do. He trembled as he watched them scrub away at the bloody mess on the floor, the walls, and the stalls. A sense of dread came over Ravan like a dark shadow and one of the older boys took notice of this.

"Don't get lost in it, Chap," he said. He appeared to be a teenager, which meant he would soon have the option to leave the slaughterhouse according to Omid. "The job is easier when you don't think about it. Here." He tossed Ravan a scrub brush. "The quickest way to get over it is to throw yourself at it."

Ravan took the scrub brush and swallowed his disgust as he did exactly what the boy suggested: he threw himself at it, though at first not so much. Ravan found it difficult not to think about what he was cleaning up when the revolting odor burned his throat.

"Put some elbow grease into it, Chap," said the older boy.

"It smells..." said Ravan.

"That's why you must scrub harder and faster," the boy replied. "The sooner we're finished, the sooner the smell is gone and we can leave this hellhole."

So Ravan obeyed and fought to think of something else, such as the Fairy Circle book that his mother had used to teach him how to read and write. He took much fancy from that book and considered if he could one day find any of the wonders mentioned within it. Perhaps he could use one or more of such wonders to obtain the perfect life for him and his mother once he left the slaughterhouse. But which wonders would he search for? Too bad he didn't have the book to use as a reference. Perhaps he would attempt to recall some of them later that night. If not, he knew he'd see his mother and the book again one day. He would simply figure it out then.

Before Ravan knew it, they had finished cleaning the slaughterhouse and it was time for lunch. The boys ate their meals on a few long, wooden tables inside a mess hall on the property. The older boy from earlier was kind enough to coach Ravan about how life on the property was run in more detail. After lunch, the boys cut and stacked firewood. After luncheon, they fetched water and did various chores to care for the assorted animals which Omid raised. After dinner, they accepted the delivery of livestock which Omid had mentioned earlier that morning. Ravan couldn't help but mull over the fact that they would be brutally slaughtering these animals the following day, but he had the older boy there to help him keep his mind off it for small intervals at a time.

After supper when all the boys prepared for bed, Ravan unpacked and spotted something in one of his bags. Slowly, Ravan lifted the book from his bag and gazed at the title: The Fairy Circle. His favorite book. His mother must've placed it into his bag without him knowing. He couldn't believe his luck!

"What's that?" asked a boy who had curiously peered over Ravan's shoulder.

"Is that a book?" asked another boy who also took interest.

"You know how to read?"

"What's the book about?"

Ravan shied away from all the sudden attention and attempted to hide the book. "Nothing, it's only a boring book. Leave me be."

"Well now I'm curious," said another boy who snatched the book from Ravan's hands to flip through the pages. "There's pictures of fairies in here. You have a fancy for fairies, do you?"

"It isn't only about fairies!" Ravan argued.

"Oh? So then what else is it about?"

"It's about the World Wonders too!"

"The World Wonders?" another boy laughed.

"You think the World Wonders exist?" teased another.

"Why shouldn't they?" Ravan challenged.

The boys around him laughed and guffawed.

"Those are just bedtimes stories, Ravy!"

"The Raven believes in bedtime stories!"

"What a dreamer!"

"Are you going to try and find the World Wonders, Raven?"

"Do you plan to find the Zoilie Stone?"

"No, he wants to find the Mortal Pond to learn what his personality looks like!"

"I think he wants to find the Ruby Bird to turn into a pig!"

"Or the Silver Clock so that he lives forever!"

"It's the Silver Cloak, you chump!"

The boys chortled again and slowly Ravan sensed a type of loathing seep into his chest for the book.

"Any reason why everyone is still up and crowded around Ravan's cot?" came the voice of the older boy.

"The Raven thinks the World Wonders exist!" chimed a boy.

"He even has a book on them!"

"I fail to find the amusement," said the older boy.

"Because the World Wonders don't exist, of course!"

"Surely you don't believe in them!"

"How do you know they don't exist?" the older boy challenged.

"Because they're just bedtime stories!"

"Bedtime stories can't be true?" asked the older boy.

"My father says they aren't real."

"And what makes your father such a sage?" said the older boy. "Isn't he the one who sold you to Omid?"

"Well what makes the Raven think they do exist?" asked a different boy.

"First of all, 'the Raven' has a name, to which I'm sure he'd prefer to be referred. Additionally, I'd argue that the fact these wonders haven't been disproven is reason enough to believe in the possibility, and for you all to keep your traps shut about it. Anyway, it was bedtime ten minutes ago. To your cots, chop-chop!"

The boys hung their heads and sauntered back to their individual cots without another word. Ravan glanced at the older boy and then down at his book: an old comfort which now seemed to be causing him much pain.

"Don't let people's opinions get in the way of what brings you joy," said the older boy who stood above him. "Years from now, you will never see these chumps again and they'll forget who you even were. Their opinions aren't worth dirt. If that book makes you happy, you should visit it every night of your stay here. Whether World Wonders exist or not, the stories offer hope and peace of mind, which we all need more of on Xyntriav if you ask me."

The older boy didn't wait for Ravan to reply, but instead turned and made himself comfortable in his own cot beside him. Moments later, one of Omid's servants who watched over the boys came and snuffed out the lights. All night long, Ravan fought to force himself to only think about the Fairy Circle, the World Wonders, the day he would see his mother again, and not about the horrors which awaited him the next morning.

                                                                  ~~~

Ravan's sleep was less than adequate that night, and to make matters worse, knowing what he was going to be forced to do the next morning made him dread the very notion of leaving the comfort of his cot. But the older boy who was slowly becoming Ravan's keeper made sure Ravan got up by literally dragging him out from beneath his covers. Ravan dressed himself sluggishly, and was thus behind the other boys. So his new keeper helped him dress and led him by the hand to the mess hall for breakfast.

As soon as he exited the mess hall, Ravan lifted his gaze to the slaughterhouse. He lost his footing as he suddenly forgot how to walk due to the massive, dominating structure looking down on him — judging him and his weak, soft heart. The closer he was forced toward the threatening building, the more it towered above him like a blood-thirsty guillotine. Well, it would have its blood that morning, and Ravan prayed that it was at least not by his hand. He wouldn't be forced to kill on his first day, would he?

"Try to relax, Chap," said his keeper. "Fortunately, I managed to have you assigned under me and we'll only be taking care of the chickens today. Hopefully we can ease you into all of this."

"I prefer to kill nothing at all," Ravan replied.

"Well, I'm afraid you will have to eventually, but not today."

Once in the slaughterhouse, the boys dispersed to different areas while Omid's paid servants led in the livestock. The chickens were already present and waiting for Ravan and his keeper, so they immediately got to work. The older boy handed Ravan a chicken.

"Hold its wings tight to its body and once I remove the head, release it," the boy explained.

"Release it?" Ravan questioned with a quiver in his voice.

"Yes, it's going to start kicking, so it's best to simply let it run about until it stops."

"Is that a joke? Because it's not funny!"

"No, this is what happens. You'll see for yourself, set it down on the block."

Ravan could already feel his breakfast making its way back up from his stomach as he watched his keeper take up the axe. Ravan sensed no hesitation from the older boy as he removed the head from the chicken in Ravan's hands. The chicken's feet clawed madly at Ravan's wrists so that he quickly tossed it aside in horror and he watched terrified as the headless bird fluttered wildly about the pen. For a moment it scrambled toward Ravan and he threw himself against the side of the stall in an effort to escape its retaliation.

Suddenly a despondent wail rang through the slaughterhouse which Ravan had never heard before. His gaping eyes darted around the building, desperately trying to locate the source of the sorry screams. Then just as suddenly as they began, they stopped.

"Why do you always find it so difficult to hit the mark?" came one boy's voice.

"Oh please, as though you get it right each time!"

Ravan struggled to breathe, and whatever breaths he managed to take felt restricted by the walls of the slaughterhouse rapidly closing in on him. In a mad yearning for air, Ravan dashed out of the slaughterhouse, hurled himself at the nearest bush, and heaved up his breakfast, which appeared to haven't even begun digesting yet. Moments later, Ravan's keeper casually approached.

"Are you finished?" the older boy asked once it seemed Ravan had completely emptied his stomach.

Ravan glanced up at the older boy, panting. "Everyone must think I'm as weak as a fishwife."

The boy gave a careless shrug. "They tend to forget that they were once in your shoes. Come. We have many chickens to take care of and little time to do so."

"Must I continue? I don't feel my stomach can handle this."

"Your stomach has nothing left to release. Let's go, back inside."

That night Ravan obtained not a minute of sleep; rather he tossed and turned for hours, fighting off his anxiety to no avail. The next morning, his keeper watched him pick at his food and had to constantly remind him to take a bite. The events at the slaughterhouse mimicked those from the previous morning. Later that night, Ravan lay on his cot while the rest of the boys prepared for bed. Ravan's keeper noticed how he stared blankly up at the ceiling with a look of trauma on his face. He approached Ravan's cot and slipped out the fairy book from beneath it to hand to the poor child. Ravan slowly took it.

"Read your book," said the boy. "Perhaps it'll aid your sleep tonight."

But Ravan could only stare at the pictures. Focus was a feat not to be attained that night, and perhaps no night in the near future he figured. Fortunately, due to the immense lack of sleep he had suffered the night prior and the energy he had used up in the past two days, Ravan managed to fall asleep. Unfortunately, it was not a restful sleep.

One morning in particular near the end of Ravan's first month working on the property, he awakened to find all the other boys missing from their cots, including his keeper. Confused and a bit frightened to learn what punishment he would be forced to suffer when it was discovered he was late, he leapt out of bed and hurried to the mess hall to also find it empty. He was that late??

Ravan ran to the slaughterhouse and hoped he could sneak in and make it appear that he had been there the entire time. However, when he arrived at the slaughterhouse, he found that it was empty as well. A sense of panic overpowered his confusion and forced him to turn to leave and search the rest of the property for everyone, but somehow the doors were shut and locked tight. Then something dripped onto his hand... blood. Ravan glanced up to see it oozing down from the top of the double doors. Trembling, Ravan stepped back from the doors and turned to face the rest of the slaughterhouse for another exit. He was accosted with a new scene where the walls bled, the stalls leaked various other bodily fluids, and entrails hung from hooks in the ceiling. The air smelled rancid and Ravan soon realized it was from the rotting bodies of all the boys with whom he had worked for nearly a month.

To Ravan's horror, a number of hogs exited the stalls on their hind legs like people. They carried blood-stained axes and at their feet were numerous headless chickens wandering aimlessly over the children's bodies. Steadily the hogs crept up to Ravan.

"We thought you would never show up," said one of the hogs.

"We were about to come looking for you," said another.

"It's your turn now."

"We must make sure the delivery to the butcher is on time."

"Indeed, we can't be responsible for the entire town starving."

Ravan screamed and fought the bloody double doors to escape, but they refused to budge. He even tried to use his fire elemental abilities to burn through the thick wood, but the doors stood firm.

"There's no use fighting it."

"It's the fate of all at the bottom of the food chain."

Ravan felt a pair of heavy hooves grab his shoulders and spin him around to face the furious monsters. Then before he could react, the axe swooped down on top of Ravan and the world around him vanished into darkness.

                                                                  ~~~

Ravan woke up panting and sweating. He scanned the room to find all the other boys still sleeping in their cots and he felt for his pounding heart to verify he was still alive. A blanket of relief swept over him and he collapsed back on his cot with a heavy sigh.

"Ravan," came a familiar whisper. He turned to see his keeper peering at him over the tiny flame on his finger. "Are you well?"

"Of course," Ravan breathed. "Only a bad dream."

"They seem to be more frequent as of late."

"Indeed," Ravan replied with another sigh.

"I noticed you stopped reading your book."

"I've lost interest."

"I would imagine the nightmares may cease if you relaxed your mind with those stories every night before bed."

Ravan thought for a moment. "Perhaps."

There was a moment of silence before the older boy spoke up again. "Well, you should know that tomorrow is my last day."

Ravan's heart skipped a beat and he looked at his keeper with wide eyes. "What?"

"I've served my time here, I'll be leaving at the end of the day. But don't fret, Chap. You'll do just fine without me and you have your stories to keep you company."

"Will you at least stay in town and visit every once in a while?" Ravan asked.

"I'm afraid not. I'll be heading to Modale; I have family there. But keep your chin up, your time will come too. It may feel like an eternity while you count the days, but that's just it — don't count the days, and don't forget to read your book every day. Understand?"

Ravan solemnly nodded his head. "I understand."

                                                                  ~~~

The very next day was Ravan's first day without his keeper, and he did everything he could to avoid the other boys. Once all the chores were finished, Ravan opted to turn in early for the night and spend some time reading his book. Before he could enter the bunk house, he heard giggling and snickering coming from around the corner of the building. He glanced to where the sounds were coming from and a couple boys rushed around the corner.

"Ravan!" one called. "Come see what we found in the barn!"

Curious, Ravan followed the boys. "What is it?"

"It's the skeleton of a sheik!" the other boy said. "It's incredible!"

"Really? A full skeleton?"

"Yes! Come look!"

Ravan felt himself growing ever more curious to learn what the skeleton of this elegant, exotic bird looked like. He picked up his pace as the two boys ran through the opening of the barn, and before he could even glance for the find, Ravan was ambushed. A gang of boys forced him to the ground and together they kicked him around and hurled rocks at him.

"Is this how it happens in your dreams, Raven?"

"No, it was the animals, remember?"

"Perhaps we should don pig and cattle heads?"

"Were there any chickens in your dreams, Raven?"

"He was the chicken in his dream!"

"Was it animal guts hanging from the ceiling, or your guts, Raven?"

"Maybe we should hang Raven from the ceiling!"

The boys laughed heartily as they stripped the bloodied and bruised Ravan of his rags and bound him with rope. Then they worked together to lift him from the barn floor so that he hung from the rafters, despite his pitiful pleas to end the abuse.

"There's no use fighting it!" the boys teased. "It's the fate of all at the bottom of the food chain!"

Then the boys proceeded to hit Ravan with sticks until the bell rang, signaling that it was time for everyone to prepare for bed. The boys jumped with a start and dropped their sticks before rushing out of the barn.

"Wait!" Ravan called after them. "Wait! Please cut me down! Don't leave me like this!"

But no one came back for Ravan. He was left hanging there, bleeding and naked. He attempted to use his fire elemental abilities to burn through the ropes which held him but like most everything else in Arderé, the rope and building had been soaked in fire retardant. Eventually, one of the supervisors noticed Ravan absent from his cot and sent for Omid, assuming that Ravan had fled the property. It was approximately thirty minutes after the boys had left him hanging from the rafters that Omid found him.

"Now what's the meaning of this?" Omid snapped.

"Please, sir," Ravan sobbed. "The others did this to me."

"And what did you do to warrant such treatment?" Omid asked as he freed Ravan from the binds.

"Nothing, sir," Ravan pleaded. "I only keep to myself, I swear!"

"Clearly," said Omid. "One would think you'd learn a lesson after this. It appears you're too simple-minded however. Perhaps after another bout you'll wise up. Now go clean yourself up and get in bed."

Omid threw Ravan's tattered clothes at him and trudged out of the barn. As he slowly dressed, Ravan remembered the Count Fedar's words about how these boys couldn't take a beating like he could, which made them as weak as fishwives. But Ravan began to feel like the fishwife among the boys here — as though he only grew weaker over time and not stronger. Hiding his emotions became more difficult as they fought to make themselves known, but gladiators don't express their emotions for everyone else to see. Fortunately, Ravan was alone in the barn so no one could see him, and after descending into a bout of sobs, he made his way to the bunk house for bed.

                                                                  ~~~

For the first few days after this most embarrassing incident, Ravan took on a more forlorn attitude. He said nothing when stones were pelted at him, failed to respond when taunts and threats were cast at him, and hardly reacted when his food was stolen from him; much like it was on Firebrush Manor except now the sorrow could be clearly read on his face. Over time, however, Ravan's sadness slowly morphed into frustration and his work slaughtering the livestock improved as he took his anger out on them. His heart hardened against the farm animals and any new boy brought into employment on the property.

One day after Ravan had his brunch stolen from him yet again, everyone filed out of the mess hall to clean up the slaughterhouse when the same boy who had swiped his food pushed him to the ground and landed a couple of kicks into his abdomen. This was the moment Ravan discovered that he had grown fed up with this particular boy, and he glared at the bully who laughed his way into the slaughterhouse. It finally occurred to Ravan in that moment that there were two kinds of people in this world: the animals, and the butcher. And Ravan could no longer stand being a tempered farm animal. He pushed himself back onto his feet, brushed himself off, and followed the other boys into the slaughterhouse, relishing the next time this boy would attack him.

Ravan patiently waited his turn to grab his cleaning supplies so not to provide a reason for anyone to attack him. As he reached for a scrub brush, the same boy knocked him aside and Ravan launched at the opportunity to teach him a lesson that was a long-time coming. He shoved the boy right back to warn him that he had enough, which took the boy by surprise. Did this mean that he got the message? Indeed not. The bully shoved Ravan into a stall and Ravan saw red. He swung at the boy and landed a blow right into his jaw. It felt good... too good. Before the bully could regain his faculties, Ravan tackled him to the ground where he proceeded to wail on the boy, each punch feeling better than the last. The boy managed to get some blows in himself, but Ravan was so high on adrenaline he hardly appeared to notice. When it seemed that the boy would never submit, Ravan pushed himself off his foe to fetch an axe and brought it over to the boy. The sorry look of terror in his enemy's eyes only sent a surge of power through Ravan's boiling blood. He loved it. The control. The domination. The hate. There wasn't the slightest hesitation as he brought the axe up and swung it at his prey. But suddenly, something stopped the axe in its course before it could finish its journey into the boy's skull. Ravan glanced at the hand which grabbed the neck of the axe, and then up at the hand's owner to spot Omid. Normally, Ravan would've felt terrified, but when he glanced around at the gaping expressions on the other boys' faces, a sense of pride overcame him, which countered any terror of impending punishment he may be forced to endure from Omid. He released the axe and awaited Omid's orders.

"You've finally learned, it seems," said Omid. "At long last. Let's hope that everyone else here is as wise as you've become."

Everyone remained deathly quiet as Omid casually hung up the axe and stated simply, "Back to work." Then he left the boys alone in the slaughterhouse. Ravan shot his bully a final passing glare, and then glanced at the rest of the boys who watched him, eyes wide with terror. Then without a word, Ravan picked up his scrub brush and did what Omid told him to: He simply got back to work.

                                                                  ~~~

From then on, Ravan was frightfully dedicated to his work slaughtering animals. He showed no mercy and any new, young boy employed under Omid immediately felt terrified upon meeting him. The boys who used to tease Ravan and steal his food went out of their ways to avoid him, and anyone who dared to challenge him on anything quickly learned to regret it. The only person on the land who failed to learn to fear Ravan was, of course, Omid. In fact, come Crest 8, 385 when he turned twenty years old, Ravan approached Omid about leaving his services as every other boy of twenty had done. Omid only laughed.

"You don't approach me to terminate your service here, Boy! I approach you when I'm ready to release you!"

"Very well," Ravan replied. "Might I inquire as to when you intend to release me?"

"Well, I have yet to decide," said Omid. "But I have all year to think about it, haven't I?"

Ravan swallowed his temper upon hearing these words. He had spent eight torturous years slaving for Omid, worried about his mother, planning his quest for the World Wonders, only to learn he may have to wait for an entire year more. He tried to convince himself that another year wasn't too bad, but so much could happen in that amount of time. So much could go wrong, so much could be accomplished. Regardless, his hands were tied.

"Yes, sir," Ravan said simply. "Understood."

During the following month of Miseria, Ravan continued to work under Omid and considered his exact step-by-step plan once he was finally released from toiling servitude. First he would check on his mother's condition. Then he would approach Lord Pierce about the debt he owed his mother and use it to set her free. Finally, they would move back to Tariq, Alaric where he would the leave to begin his quest for the Bone Root: a Wonder which provided one with strength and stamina. With this Wonder, Ravan and his mother would never fear anyone again. The plan seemed smooth enough.

Ravan reviewed this plan over and over in his head throughout the month, and the month came and went. Omid still hadn't approached Ravan. By the next month of Zafirô, Ravan could recite his plan in his sleep and he was ready to execute it once he left Omid's employment, which still hadn't happened after Zafirô... or Alba... or even Destello. By Malla, Ravan felt himself steadily growing impatient with Omid. During the sixth month Ravan couldn't focus on his plans or even his book. He considered confronting Omid about it again, but that hadn't gone well the first time, he could only imagine how it would go the second time, so he held off.

Two months later on Gratto 6, 386, Ravan couldn't even sleep at night and that was when he had finally had enough. At the end of the work day he approached Omid again.

"Sir," he said. "Forgive me, I must insist. I am two months away from my twenty-first year and I must know when you plan to release me."

"I told you not to approach me about this, Boy," Omid growled.

"I feel I've been very patient, sir. I've been here longer than anyone else."

"And perhaps I wish to keep you here longer," said Omid. "It's been my decision to set my employees free at the age of twenty, I don't have to make that decision every time."

"But you told me in no uncertain terms —"

"And I've changed my mind! Now this conversation is over, you are dismissed. It's almost time to turn in."

Ravan hardly knew what to say or how to react, and when he couldn't come up with anything, he opted to obey his master. Like most recent nights, Ravan couldn't sleep. He lay awake thinking about how he would be forced to spend the rest of his life slaughtering animals for Omid and wondering about his mother's well-being. The longer he thought about it, the more he couldn't accept it.

So, Ravan was resolved. He quietly got up and packed as silently as he could, then he made his way to the stables to saddle a horse. Lastly, he snuck into Omid's home to steal what small amount of money he found. While he wasn't very quiet when he opened the shutters and crawled through the window, he managed to sneak around the living space silently to search for the coins. He also made sure to not use his fire abilities so to avoid drawing attention to himself. For a moment, Ravan almost lost his nerve and jumped back out the window, but he knew that he would regret it if he turned back after coming so far. Then his worst fears came true. He caught sight of a large figure coming down the stairs and by the light of the small ball of fire in the figure's hand, he recognized it to be Omid.

"Who goes there?" Omid called. "Ravan?? What the devil do you think you're doing?"

Without a second thought, Ravan hurled himself back out the window. Then he hopped on the horse and galloped away into the darkness. Omid threw himself at the window, but was much too large and old to be bothered to attempt to chase after the boy.

"You will rue this day, Ravan!" Omid hollered. "Nobody crosses me! Mark my words, I will find you and seize repayment!"