"You're old enough now to learn how to manage your own slave," The king told Damien the day after his thirteenth birthday.
Damien was hardly more than a boy, tall and skinny, with dark hair and dark eyes. It hadn't been very long since he'd noticed hair growing in new places. He wasn't even shaving yet. Not really.
King Alexander led Damien down the spiral stairs to the lowest levels of the palace, a place Damien had never been allowed to venture before. Damien stuck close to his father, his skin crawling as they descended further into darkness. The lamp in Alexander's hand was the only source of light, hanging in the air around him.
"Training slaves is a difficult skill to master, but I am sure you will be good at it," Alexander told his son. "Just as I am and just as your grandfather was."
"Do I really have to learn this?" Damien questioned as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
The king shot him a sharp look, "Of course, son. All the palace slaves must be taught correctly. The training houses are far too soft on them."
Damien wrapped his arms around himself when he suddenly heard a keening noise from somewhere within the dark chamber ahead. There were other sounds too: rustling, sobbing, groaning. Pain and suffering. He didn't want any part of this.
"Don't worry, son," his father smiled in the lamp-light. "You'll do well at it, just as I did."
He pushed a lever on the wall and suddenly the whole room was alight. The cavernous room spread out for what felt like forever, lined with cells and metal cages, rows upon rows of them. Some of them were empty, but many of them contained a person, a slave. Damien took a step back, his eyes widening by the onslaught of blood and bone that lay before him. Each person was gaunt and barely moved, covered in splashes of brown and crimson. Their clothes were practically nonexistent, hanging off of their frames in threadbare rags. Some of them were chained up in weird positions, while others laid on the floor, so still that Damien wasn't sure they were alive at all.
Alexander smiled at him, "Welcome, son. Let's get started."
