Audrey rubbed the calloused lines across her wrists absentmindedly. Usually on the days when she was ordered to shepherd the herds, the long hours of boredom would cause her to start thinking silly things. On those days she might wonder if she would ever be able to go a night without shackles. Out in the open as she was now, unshackled and some distance from the estate guards, she couldn’t see what purpose the restraints served at night if during the day she were allowed such freedoms. What meaning could metal cuffs have when the magic band around her neck would kill her if she wandered from the property?
Today, however, her mind was calmed by an unusual sense of comfort. The bright afternoon sun beat down on her bare arms and face just the same as always, and sweat rolled down her back just the same as well. She had only a dark green shirt with a brown tunic cut short at the legs, normal fare for slaves on the estate. The thin material was decent enough most days and she had heavier britches and a cloak for winter, but any clothing felt like too much in the hottest of the summer weeks as it was now. The heat didn’t bother her for once though; it warmed her but remained somehow tolerable. She felt as if a strong cool breeze was blowing right through her, but there was no such wind just then. As she closed her eyes and raised her face to the sky, she felt like she something amazing was close by, just out of reach- something important that she had somehow forgotten.
A loud noise caused her eyes to open again almost immediately. She looked around- it was a sound very similar to a goat’s cry, but with a much deeper tone. She smiled as her eyes fell on the herd of grazing tromms below. She was made to look after the large ugly creatures on certain days of the week when she wasn’t repairing clothing for other slaves. One was lumbering slowly over to her just then- the one that she guessed had called out to her. Its large powerful legs hit the ground slightly out of rhythm, like perhaps one leg had been injured and never healed correctly. Still, she would be hard-pressed to tell which leg it was with all of the creature’s hair in the way.
Most tromms were about four hands taller than the height of an average horse and three times as broad. Chestnut brown, black, or gray were the common colours of their hair, which covered the creatures in thick shag and fell practically to the ground if left un-trimmed. This tromm was well-groomed of course, like the rest of his herd, and its dark brown hair fell only to its large knobby knees. It had a broad flat nose, just slits in its furry face more than anything, small squinty eyes of light blue-green hue, and a wide mouth with no lips to speak of. Its teeth she knew were large, easily twice the size of a horse, flat and roughly square-shaped. She guessed a tromm could eat small animals whole if it wanted, but somehow they ate the same as horses, just grass and hay, although in larger quantities than equines. The one approaching her from the herd she had nicknamed Tilt. He was the friendliest of the tromms she knew and often sat with her when she did her part as shepherd. She didn’t think it was just friendliness that motivated it though; she had a feeling that the creature was sharing in her boredom.
She stood awkwardly from her seat on a large flat boulder. Leaning on a thick piece of wood she carried with her, she just managed to keep her balance as her still-sleeping legs nearly gave out. Tilt bleated at her in that deep goat-like way that he had. She had the feeling he was laughing at the awkward way she clung to her support- she made a face at him and waited until the pins-and-needles sensation passed before trying to move again. After brushing the back of her tunic and leggings off with her hand, she made her way quickly down to the ground to join her charges.
The herd as a whole was behaving well, but then only the presence of predators in the area ever actually caused them unrest. They were mostly docile creatures despite their considerable size. Audrey quickly looked them over, counting their numbers to assure herself that none had wandered off while she wasn’t looking. She sighed in relief as she confirmed they were all still there; she had been daydreaming far too long and hadn’t been paying proper attention. If any of them had been missing she’d have been lucky to get by with only a beating.
Relaxing, she whistled a song as Tilt pitched his ears forward to listen. He drew closer to her and stopped only a few feet away, munching noisily at the long blades of grass that jutted up from the rocky ground there like that was his intention all along. She couldn’t help but smile at that, her sharp whistling distorting for the moment it took her to straighten her expression again. She had learned that even as the most sociable of his herd, Tilt wasn’t very honest. Although she loved how he seemed to enjoy listening to her songs, that wasn’t the only reason she made them. She had been a slave for over eight years, being only six when she’d arrived, and it was often difficult to remember the faces of her family. The whistling, something her father had done often, made her feel closer to them.
She walked up to stand beside Tilt and run her hands through the tromm’s long hair while continuing her song. This work for the master wasn’t difficult for her, especially since most predators in the region hunted at night. The tromms would be safely inside their stables at the estate by then, and keeping the herd together and protecting them from threats during the day was her only duty. In the few months she’d worked as the herd’s shepherd only one attack had been made on the creatures. A large wolf had killed a tromm that wandered only a short distance away from the rest of the herd. It had been frightened off by rifle shots before it could start eating though.
During the incident she had ran as fast as she could to try to reach and fend off the wolf. She’d only had a thick piece of long wood, similar to the one she had now, to use as a weapon against the beast, but in the end it hadn’t mattered. The shots made to scare it off had come from a merchant named Paxel who’d just happened to be around and pricing tromms at the time. She’d been much too slow, or at least that had been what the guards said that arrived shortly afterward. Naturally, she was severely beaten for her failure.
When she’d first received the order to guard the herd, she had felt it was silly to have only a makeshift staff to ward off predators, few though they were in daylight. The incident had shown her the truth of her situation though. She would cost the master much less to replace than a tromm, and it was her duty either to fend the predators off or to die trying. However impossible the situation had been, according to everyone that was around she had cost the master one of his tromms that day. And so it went that her few small joys each week dwindled even further from the sharp pain along her back and the knowledge of how little she actually mattered.
She knew she would have to be faster the next time. Not only so that she could save one or two of the beasts’ lives, although that really might have been motivation enough, and not to escape a repeat of the brutal beating she was given last time (which still pained her occasionally, nearly a month later). She’d have to be faster so that she might be given the option to end her time as a slave, even if it meant being delivered to the After World in the process. Being beaten for the incident, even if it hadn’t been the first time she’d had such a punishment, had been something of an awakening for her. No matter how many small things she found to smile about during the day, she could not stand for things to stay the way that they were. Most slaves went about their lives like they didn’t even feel their confinement, and she had tried her best to do the same, but she was finding that she couldn’t. The days were not so bad, but the nights… The sealed room that she slept in while shackled to the floor was driving her closer to madness every day that passed.
Something caught her eye in the sky over the mountain range in the east. Her hands, still running through Tilt’s shaggy coat, stopped moving as her attention was drawn away. A partial silver disk hung there in the distance, behind the occasional clouds that passed over the mountains. It was dim thing, almost translucent, shaped like a plate with a small part sheared away on one side. Her vision narrowed as she looked, and the disk seemed to draw closer to her until it almost completely filled her vision. She saw now that it wasn’t a perfect shape as she had thought; it had shadows in some spots and its edges seemed rough. The feeling of strange calmness she’d had for several hours sank even deeper into her mind, permeating her like the warmth of a fire. She stood transfixed by the beauty of the thing as the pale blue of the eastern sky grew steadily darker.
Something wet and course ran along her cheek, breaking her trance. As her sight returned to normal, she immediately noticed that the disk was the same size it had been when she first noticed it, a small thing still floating beyond the mountains. She looked to the side and was surprised to see Tilt’s furry face just in front of her own; she guessed right away that the wet thing must’ve been his tongue. He breathed out through his nostrils without warning, making her squint as the sudden rush of air blew her long coppery hair from her face. She couldn’t smile at his antics as she normally would have; the strange feeling of the experience she’d just had unsettled her. Instead she simply reached up and scratched his ears as she thought about it. Had it been some kind of spell? She couldn’t help but steal glances at the disk from the corner of her eye, afraid that she’d be caught in its magic again if she looked at it directly. After nearly a minute of this she sighed heavily and tried to put it from her mind.
I’m just tired. She told herself, though she didn’t really believe it. Who experienced such a thing because they were tired?
As she left Tilt to look over the herd again she noticed that the sun was now hanging much lower in the sky. The bright yellow-white was slowly melding into reds and oranges as it approached the horizon over the fields to the west- a display of colors that she both looked forward to and dreaded each day.
But wasn’t it only mid-day a moment ago? She thought in disbelief. A bell sounded in the distance, a low tone that reverberated through the ground and up into her legs. The scars across her wrists itched terribly as she realized it was time to return.
In the distance, several men on horseback rode into the fields from the estate’s south gate. They closed in on her so quickly that she didn’t have time to prepare herself. They wore clothing similar to her own, the brown bands around their necks marking them as slaves. She held her staff out in front of her with both hands, her muscles tight in anticipation, but she knew that it would be a wasted effort. The first of the two riders to reach her, a tall dark haired man at least twice her age, galloped past her quickly without stopping. She turned and followed his movement, panic causing her to forget the second rider altogether. A sharp pain in her shoulder made her realize her mistake. She stumbled forward and fell to her hands and knees, the stick flying from her grasp and landing some distance ahead of her- too far to try and retrieve. She turned her head and looked at the boy who had kicked her.
His name was Stephen, she knew from past confrontations with him. He towered over her from atop the large brown gelding, hatred twisting his normally handsome features into an ugly scowl. He was only a bit older than Audrey, shorter than her when not mounted but well-muscled despite his size. His skin and hair, like everyone else at the estate, were much darker than her own. She shuddered unconsciously. He wasn’t allowed to kill her, but with no guards around there were many things he could get away with- some even worse. She had managed to avoid him most days by running to the estate just before the bell sounded, but her distractions that day had made that tactic impossible.
“Told you before, Monster.” He said angrily, his voice deeper than she remembered. She didn’t even flinch at the word ‘monster’, she had grown used to it. “We don’t wanna see your face. Yer bad luck!”
She stood and turned to him, trying to ignore the pain in her shoulder. The older man rode back around and drew his horse even with the boy’s, his eyes full of contempt as he glared down at her. She knew she didn’t have many options, no matter what she said to them it would only make things worse. On the other hand, her curfew was absolute. If she didn’t make it back to her guardian Thomas before nightfall she would be lucky if the master just killed her. He had told her as much, years ago, and she believed it.
Something seemed to occur to Stephen, his expression shifting suddenly to a cruel smile. “Just had a thought, Monster.” Audrey took a step back, afraid that she knew what the thought had been. The boy’s grin widened as she did so. “If I make you a woman, maybe you aint gonna be such a Monster no more.”
The two men urged their geldings closer. The horses looked jittery, like they too hated being near her. She cringed inwardly, caring more about what the horses thought of her than their riders, but their discomfort gave her an idea. She hated the necessity of it; she liked animals more than people most days. Quickly she formed a picture a candle in her mind, halfway between her and the horses. She reached out with her hands and called on the only spell she knew.
A bright flame erupted in the empty air. It disappeared almost instantly when it found nothing to burn, but the damage had been done. The horses reared back, screeching loudly as their eyes went wide with fright. The surprised men on their backs nearly fell at the sudden movement, but just barely held on to their panicked steeds’ reigns. Audrey didn’t wait to see how long it would take for them to regain control- she took off at full speed toward the south gate.
Stephen screamed after her, his voice shrill in rage, “Wench! Yer dead! Ya hear me?! DEAD!”
Audrey could barely make out what he said over the sound of the wind in her ears. Her surroundings were a blur as she sprinted, the green of the grass and trees bleeding into the brown of wood and bare earth. It seemed to take her just moments to reach the south gate. Only when her bare feet slapped down almost painfully on the packed dirt road leading through the gate did she slow her mad dash to a brisk walk. Now that she was relatively safe she chanced a glance behind her to see if she was followed. The men had dismounted and were only barely discernable in the distance. They hadn’t chased her. She held a hand to her shoulder, expecting the pain to return now that the rush of adrenaline was leaving her, but to her surprise she felt perfectly fine.
He mustn’t have kicked me as hard as I thought. She thought, and for the second time that day she found herself praying to the gods to make her more simple-minded. If they did, perhaps she could actually believe the things that she told herself.
Facing forward again, she thought briefly about Stephen. She wasn’t terribly worried about his threat, no matter how mad he’d seemed. He had often tried to harass her in the past, before she’d thought to anticipate the evening bell and run back early. For one reason or another though, it had never ended well for him. Today had been the first time she’d frustrated his efforts directly, having panicked at what he’d thought to do, but she had a feeling that he would’ve failed regardless- he had the luck of a skunk breeder.
She turned her attention to the estate. Lormus Estate was what everyone called it. Her master was Duke Grayson of Lormus, or so she’d heard from a trader a few years before .The master would only permit a select few of his slaves to address him by name, and most didn’t even know it. The estate was large, or at least she thought it was; she didn’t really have much to compare it to. The fields used for grazing herds stretched to the south, with no real direct access from the outside. A person would need to walk or ride straight through the estate itself to reach the farms and housing for the animals, and further still to reach the fields. On the western side of the area the way was blocked by steep cliffs with only the deep blue waters of the ocean below, while to the east there was a small mountain range separating the land held by the master and the untamed wilderness of Taeriel. Finally, the southern area past the fields was thick with trees to the point of being practically impassable- especially at night when the real predators awoke within them. Thus it was something of a natural fortress, the whole area approachable only from the road to the north. Audrey herself had never considered the strategic value of the location though; such things were lost on slaves.
Most of the people she passed on the road, slaves and servants alike, ignored her as she walked by. It was better this way, she thought; all the more because in the past year she had developed in ways she hadn’t expected. She’d much rather be ignored than treated like the other slave girls she had seen. Comparing herself to them, she was hardly as well-proportioned, with a waist too thin and breasts still on the small side. She had discovered from countless overheard conversations that she was perhaps the only girl of age on the estate with chastity yet intact.
It was both a huge blessing to her as well as a bit maddening. Slaves were unable to refuse the advances of nobility and even certain servants, and that made her wary, but she knew that there were slaves who had relationships and families as well. She also knew she’d never be one of them; not when she was so much less developed than other girls her age, and especially not when everyone either ignored or hated her because of her pale features. She remembered Stephen’s attempt briefly and cringed. Perhaps it was for the best to be ignored after all.
After a minute’s walk the packed dirt was replaced with solid stone under her feet. The flagstones were laid out in the ground in an intricate design of squares, circles, and diamond shapes; they formed the road that led from one end of the estate to the other, from gate to gate. She vaguely remembered liking the design when she had first seen it many years before, feeling a little nervous to step on such artwork with her bare feet. Now she didn’t even notice it, the novelty of such things was quick to fade even for slaves.
Both sides of the road were lined with bushes and large pots, presenting bright and sweet-smelling flowers to those who passed through. The solid gray of the stone road contrasted with the vivid reds, oranges, yellows, and greens of the flowers and plants beside it, making them stand out even more. Occasionally as she walked she came across low-hanging arches over the road, loosely filled with dark green vines that twisted along the wooden lattices. She passed small detailed fountains spraying steady streams of crystal-clear water in to the air. There were occasionally even statues of gorgeous half-nude nymphs and faeries made of solid marble or even more unique types of stone she couldn’t name. It had come as no great shock to her that the master of the house supposedly had over half a dozen lovers when looking upon these embarrassingly open displays of sexuality.
Audrey always found it amusing that while the roads might be incredibly beautiful, the beauty is really lost when there are very rarely any people other than slaves and servants to notice. It wasn’t as if slaves weren’t capable of appreciating such things, but that it was slaves that swept the dirt from between the stones on the road, it was slaves who laid down the manure for the flowers, and it was slaves who tediously cleaned every fountain of any dirt or leaves that might have made them less beautiful. Having such an expansive estate for only a handful of nobility might have seemed like a tragic waste to some, but to her it may as well have been the way the whole world was designed.
She approached a large stone gate that arched overhead, staring at the ground in front of her as she passed several guards that stared at her while she walked by. As much as she relied on their presence with people like Stephen around, she had the distinct feeling that the guards didn’t like her any more than he did. Immediately after passing them she came upon a small fork in the road and promptly turned left towards her guardian’s home, following the tall stone wall that marked the division between the inner and outer areas. On the inside of the wall were the areas that served as residences, bathhouses, gardens, and of course the large manor itself where the nobles lived. The outside areas held the stables for horses and tromms, small farms, and the homes that served the farmers.
This path she took was nearly hidden from the stone road, with small leafy branches that needed to be pushed aside to allow entrance. Detailed and beautiful stones gave way once again to hard-packed dirt, no longer the public display of beauty that accompanied the main road. The sides of the path had similar foliage growing beside them, though unkempt and growing wildly now. On some days she even had to whack a few of the longer branches from a bush or two with a stick to clear it up and make the path more comfortable. It was a heavy contrast to the more public areas, but still lovely in its own way, if a person enjoyed nature as she did.
Finally a building appeared ahead and she relaxed, slowing her brisk walk even further now that she wasn’t in danger of breaking her curfew. The dirt path spread outward as it was absorbed into the naked circle of earth around the building. The high wall that served to separate the areas continued onward on her left, but the foliage in that direction grew too thick to follow it any further. As far as she knew, this area was unique on the master’s property- hidden from view both by outsiders as well as other slaves; a place no one ever visited and very few even knew about. It might have been a comfortable separation if she didn’t think it so similar to a prison.
The building itself was unimpressive, only running a dozen certs in either direction and made of thick gray stones- one could almost mistake it for an abandoned guardhouse. The rooftop was covered in vines and random vegetation, making it feel even more deserted. A small water pump with a small ring of damp earth beneath it was the only sign that this building was actually being used. In between several hanging vines along the closest wall of the building, a small wooden door with metal hinges greeted her with a chill down her spine.
She quickly knocked three times before opening the door, not waiting for a response. To her surprise, it was nearly pitch-black inside; she had to wait several seconds before her eyes adjusted enough to make out any shapes. She strained her eyes until she could see the faint outlines of a lamp sitting in a stone alcove a few feet from the entrance. She lit it with a wave of her hand and watched as the room came into flickering focus. The light cast heavy shadows from the table and twin chairs that served as the room’s only discernible decorations. On either side of the small table, old but thick stone pillars served as supports for the roof, somehow managing to make the very bare and empty space seem almost cramped.
She closed the door behind her and didn’t bother latching it. Thomas didn’t appear to be home, but more importantly they’d never really had a use for the latch in the first place- there was nothing to steal after all. Glancing around the room nervously, she wasn’t really sure what to do for the moment. Thomas had almost always been home before her on her shepherding days; it was very unusual that he wasn’t now. After a few moments of staring into shadows while she thought about what to do, she decided to try not to worry. The room was still only half-lit, so she walked to the far side of the house and spelled a second lamp to life with another wave of her hand.
With the new light to push the darkness back, the rest of the room was plainly visible. The eastern wall had two alcoves dug into the solid stone blocks that formed the building, one on each side of the doorway she’d entered through; to the left was the lamp she had lit first, while the shadowy recess on the right stood empty. Just to the right of that were four small metallic prongs jutting out from the surface of the stone wall at about Audrey’s height- one of the reasons she didn’t like walking around the room in the dark. These metal hooks served to hold several things, one of which was the heavy dark-brown cloak that Thomas wore during the colder months, and another held her noticeably smaller light green one (Thomas had noted it being the same colour as her eyes in a rare moment of talkativeness).
The kitchen was located on the western side, opposite the entrance. It was rather small, just one corner of the room really. Two stone slabs held a large metal pot between them over a darkened pile of ashes on the ground- a fire pit for cooking. Several smaller pots, bowls, and spoons were placed neatly on a long and narrow wooden table along the wall beside it. With the water pump outside, she sometimes wondered if the place had originally been meant as a farmhouse of some kind, though no other signs of such a past were visible. Then again, she thought, with the amount of overgrowth outside would it have been visible even if true?
The northern wall was the only one that was completely smooth, without the grooves in it that defined the larger sturdy slabs of stone that had been used in the construction of the other walls. She knew this one was a divider between the main area and two smaller rooms that served as her and Thomas’ sleeping areas. Two large doors were visible, the one on the right rather inconspicuous and made of wood, similar to the entrance door’s design but wholly rectangular instead of having a curved top.
The door on the left was a different story, and it made her shiver just looking at it. It was made of solid metal and had a large sun symbol depressed into its surface. The symbol was of the primary Solarian faith, depicting the god of the sun on which many of the world’s religions were based. She didn’t really understand why such a thing would be placed there, but she never bothered trying to ask. Since the god of sunlight was also the god of healthy crops, it made sense if the building had once been a farmhouse as she had thought, but what could the room itself have been used for? The door didn’t look that old anyways, but she tried not to think about it too much. There was no point in being tormented by that room before even being confined to it for the night.
She sat down in one of the chairs and waited for awhile. Thomas had always had a meal prepared for her when she came back; her supper had to be eaten quickly before the last bell of the evening, the bell that marked her curfew. She knew that there were only a few minutes of fading sunlight left, as she watched the thin bar of light under the entrance grow steadily dimmer. She was forbidden to be outside of her room after the sun had fallen, but she wasn’t capable of opening the heavy door to her chamber by herself even if she wanted to. As her stomach growled, some small part of her hoped that Thomas would be even later. She dreaded the thought of what punishment might await her, but she could only vaguely remember a time when she was able to walk around freely after dark. The faded memories of the moon and stars that accompanied nightfall made her long to see them once more.
Finally, just before the last of the light outside faded entirely, Thomas burst through the door unceremoniously. He was panting, taking in long ragged breaths as he tried to steady himself. It was as if he’d run back from the other side of the estate to get back. Since there weren’t many places around that he might have been at such an hour, she figured that was likely exactly what he’d done. She stared at him for a long moment, surprised by his sudden entrance.
Thomas was a large man, and an intimidating presence to those who didn’t know him very well. At ten certs he was a head taller than even Audrey, even if she was easily as tall as most men. He was dressed in clothing similar to her own, though better quality, which consisted of brown trousers and a dark green tunic with no symbols or distinguishing marks. His heavily tanned arms and legs were well-muscled, his short now-disheveled hair so dark as to be almost black. A scar ran down his right arm, from his shoulder almost all the way to his elbow, though that detail was hidden behind a long green armband he wore for that purpose.
“Thomas, you okay?” Her voice came out a bit uneven. She hadn’t done much more with it than whistle all day, so talking all of a sudden was difficult. She coughed and tried to cleared her throat as she rushed to stand and walk over to him.
He looked out of the still open door, his eyes wide as the last evening bell rang in the distance. Shadows had enveloped everything outside; only a few minutes remained until darkness would prevail over daylight entirely. “Quickly,” he practically yelled in between breaths. He turned back to face her. “Into your room now.”
She felt a pang of something between sadness and fear in her chest at the sudden command. She walked quickly to the steel door, out of the way but near enough to show that she was obeying. Thomas looked at her from the door for a brief moment while his heavy breathing returned to normal. Something like regret shone in his eyes for only a second before being replaced by his usual stern expression. He walked past her and grasped the metal handle to the door, pulling it open almost effortlessly. She knew that she could’ve pulled it with every ounce of strength she had and it wouldn’t have moved at all, but as always the sight of the pitch black space beyond the door muted any awe she might have felt at the feat.
After only a second’s hesitation she entered the dark room that served as her nocturnal prison. It was only six certs or so in either direction, with naught but a small straw bed for her to lie on. There were no windows and no imperfections in the stone walls for even bugs to enter through, which was at least one comfort. The room was just that, a solid stone room, and the only things that stood out were a single candleholder high up on one wall and two metal shackles bolted to the floor near the straw bedding on the opposite side.
Audrey knelt down slowly in front of the shackles. She knew the routine all too well, but for some reason it was still difficult to endure. Thomas walked in behind her soundlessly, quickly wrapping the metal cuffs around her wrists. He pulled a small piece of metal from a pouch on his waist and latched the cuffs in place with a loud, dull snapping sound. She cringed, feeling as if the sound symbolized her fate itself. If her destiny was to spend all of her life chained down like an animal for all hours of the night, not free to stand or even lay out straight in such a cramped room, perhaps the After World was not such a terrible alternative after all. Her eyes clouded as she felt the cool metal on her calloused wrists once more. What she wouldn’t give to be able to sleep outside in the open, even with bugs and rodents to contend with!
“I’m sorry.” Thomas said almost inaudibly. If his face hadn’t been just a hairs-breadth from her ear she wouldn’t have heard him at all. It was a small consolation really- a far cry from hugging her and making her feel safe as she sometimes desired from him.
She looked up at him and tried to smile. “I’m okay.” She told him. The smile felt awkward even to her, and tears ran down her cheeks at the effort, betraying her true feelings.
“I know you haven’t eaten yet,” he said a little louder. His eyes were closed, like he didn’t wish to see that she was crying, but his voice was soft and comforting. “It’s against the rules to open the door after dark, but I can’t let you starve. I’ll bring you some food in a minute.”
“Thanks.” She felt true gratitude to him. He didn’t have to do these small things to make it easier on her. Her situation couldn’t be worse, she thought to herself as she tried to settle her emotions. It could always be worse.
Thomas stood and paced out of the room, pausing only to light the small candle high on one wall before he left. The cuffs seemed to stop her magic from working, so she couldn’t have done it herself even if she wanted to. Finally, the door slid shut with a loud screech. She was no longer able to make out any sounds beyond it. Her tears had dried quickly and felt uncomfortable on her cheeks- she twisted around awkwardly and used the shoulders of her tunic to wipe at her face. Thomas was a decent man, she knew that, but she also knew that she wouldn’t be able to spend many more months locked away in this room. It had been many years now since she’d been sold to the master. In those years she had not once been out during the nighttime hours. The frustration and shame of being chained to the ground had not lessened over time as Thomas had said it would, it had gotten worse.
At first, she had felt that it wasn’t really that bad. Seeing what duties many of the young female slaves had to perform, the simple tasks she was given were a huge relief in comparison. But months had passed, and then years. Even though the part of her that had found this to be acceptable to the alternative hadn’t disappeared, there was another part that was steadily growing larger It was a part that desired above all else to be free- to live a life far away from the estate where no one could command her or chain her again. That part was almost overwhelmingly strong now, especially today.
Only minutes had passed while she lied on her bed of straw, lost in thoughts and desires, but she suddenly felt as if she was suffocating. It was as if all the air in the room had simply vanished in a moment, leaving none for her to breathe. She folded herself inward, drawing her legs to her chest and covering her face with her hands, as if to protect herself from some invisible attacker. It didn’t help, and the chain cuffs bit painfully into her wrists at the effort. There was an energy in the room, so thick that she could barely move inside of it. It felt like she was submerged in water, except that it was much heavier. It was putting pressure on every part of her with such force that she couldn’t fight against it.
She looked around quickly, panicked, but the room was pitch-black now. The candle had gone out at some point while she struggled. Closing her eyes, she tried to steady herself.
There’s still air, there’s still air, I can breathe if I try, don’t panic. She opened her mouth to inhale, but her chest wouldn’t move, the pressure was pushing against it. Every inch of her body was tense, sweating, her skin tingled and her wrists felt like they were on fire. She knew that she wasn’t going to be able to hang on much longer.
At last, the pain lessened. All of her discomfort flowed from her body, leaving only a wonderful lack of sensation in its wake. Light flooded into the room as the door opened. She could barely see it, no longer even struggling to breath. For a wonderful moment she felt completely free. A loud crash roused her attention, making her open her eyes only a little. All she could see were blurry shapes in the painfully bright light of the open door. She felt something on her chest, a strong pressure, and then a strangely rough sensation against her lips. Air quickly filled her lungs. She coughed fiercely, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable.
Pain shot through every part of her all at once. She screamed as loud as her weak body was able. It felt like her arms were consumed in flames, burning the flesh from her bones. Her eyes went wide with shock and shapes came into focus before her. A bowl had been dropped to the floor a short distance from where she lay. It was overturned, a spoon lying just beside it, but she noticed it only briefly. All she could see was the stone floor around her, covered in something fluid and crimson. As she watched, the liquid seeped slowly towards the door. The burning pain intensified and she screamed again. She screamed until her throat was raw and the pain made everything fade into darkness, allowing her to fall blissfully unconscious.
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