Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) by Brent Lee Markee

wrist.
                  Hatred and death seethed forth from the thing, and he couldn't stop the tear that rolled down his cheek. His first thought was that it was simply his imagination because of the pain that he was feeling, but as he placed his hand upon his left manacle again, the same feelings radiated outward. Someone had created these things for one purpose: to hurt and kill.
                  As he placed his hand on the chain that connected the manacles, he realized that it was for show. The links were poorly made, and could easily be snapped with the right pressure. Knowing that if he ever needed to he could remove the chains gave the boy a small amount of hope. However, he also knew that even if he were to somehow get out of these mines, he would still be a prisoner, as the manacles suppressed something fundamentally different than his movement. His thoughts continued to gnaw away at him until he heard his fellow prisoners begin to stir. Another day working the mine lay before him, but he found that his body wasn't as weary as it had been since that first day waking up inside these caves. Something had changed.

 
                 
     
    Chapter 4
    Serenity Valley
     
    Year: 3045 AGD
    Month: New Year
    First Firstday
    Serenity Valley
    Institute of Learning
     
                  Shawnrik awoke to a melodious buzz humming through his ears. He couldn't quite tell where it was coming from, but it seemed as if Verrian had felt it as well, because the little man was stirring in his bed across the room.
                  “Good morning, Verrian,” Shawnrik said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Verrian's only response was a grunt as he rolled into a sitting position at the edge of his bed, where he stared at his feet as if willing them to move. Shawnrik couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips; he had always loved mornings, but he had seen Nim, Ashur, and Victor in the morning enough times to know that not everyone felt the same. He also knew from experience that people who didn't enjoy mornings usually didn't enjoy talking during them either, especially to cheerful people. Verrian showed all of the signs of being one of those people.
                  Shawnrik had already pulled a set of clothes out of the trunk by the time Verrian began to become mobile. Moving about like an undead corpse, Verrian moved towards his chest at the end of the bed and pulled out a neatly folded stack of clothing. Rummaging a little more in the chest, he came back up with a bar of soap, some sort of tiny brush, and an odd tube. The Half-Elf then proceeded to plod out the door without comment. Shawnrik followed, assuming that his roommate knew where they could go to clean up.
                  Verrian lead them to the end of the hallway and into a large room, the likes of which Shawnrik had never seen before. One side of the room was full of sinks and a long mirror, and the other two walls were full of stalls. Verrian grabbed a towel off a rack as they entered the room, so Shawnrik followed suit. Shawnrik was just about to ask what the stalls were for, but he noticed that there was water flowing down inside one of them and realized they must be used for getting clean. Entering a stall, the first thing he noticed was a small shelf below the spot that the water had been coming out of in the other stall. Realizing that it was one of the only dry spots in the stall, he placed his clothes inside and closed the hatch of the compartment.
                  Shawnrik had thought that Nim's manor had possessed a very good system of indoor plumbing, having had a bathtub in each room, but this was something else entirely. There were two knobs on the wall, one labeled hot, the other cold. For the last two years, Shawnrik had been using one cold body of water after another to get clean, so he thought it might be nice to use hot water for a change. As he turned