“Your Dragon has Awakened.”

            The words echoed in my ears as I sat with the audience in the great amphitheater.  I ceased swinging my legs, drawn in by my first Awakening.  The young boy was sweating profusely, his stork legs thrusting his knees into his chin as he took the obsidian Amulet from the robed priestess.  A great curiosity overtook me, and I tried to stand in my chair and see what the amulet depicted.  I wanted one, I wanted to run up on that stage in front of everyone and take that amulet for myself.  I don’t know if it was a wanting, but more of a needing, like the trinket were singing a song for me alone.  My nanny held me still and shot me a stern glance, and my heart hammered against my ribs, knowing I was being denied something, but I didn’t know what.

                                                ***

 

            It is fifteen years after this memory, and my heart aches whenever I have this dream, tears creeping from my eyes in the near dark.  The moon drifts into my room and touches my face, as if trying to dry my tears.  Annoyed, I get up and pull the drapes closed, crawling back into my bed and burying my face in my pillow.  If I did not get to sleep first, then surely I would be suffocated.  I turn my face and squeeze my eyes shut.  Then to my relief, I start to fall asleep, the sounds of the wind and the sleeping of dogs lulling me.  But then all is quiet.  No wind, no sleeping dog sounds. 

            Feeling uneasy, I crack my eyes open to take a peek around my normal looking room.  Suddenly, a yelping sound followed by an eruption of light in the next room make me sit up in alarm.  More yelping, then my father’s angry voice.  Fear strangles me, as I look for something to arm myself with.  My eyes light on a fire poker for the fireplace in the other room; thank God for my laziness!  Quickly I grab it, but the door behind me bursts open before I can hide myself.  Just as I turn to give whoever it was a good blow on the head, I stop as I see it is my mother. 

            “Hide!  Quickly, go out the window, I will protect you!” she hisses to me, taking the fire poker from my weak grip.

            “Mother, I will not leave you!” I argue, suddenly terrified for her.  Just then, the door is torn off the hinges.  Mother flings me behind her, shrieking “Get back, get back!” and waving the makeshift weapon in front of her.  Three large men in black armor fan the room, one of them taking the fire poker from her and backhanding her with it.  My heart splits with the sound of the crack from it, seeing her fall limp to the ground.  Knowing it was too late, I still turned to run, feeling ashamed yet doing it for my mother’s sake.  A pair of iron hard hands grabbed me about the waist, and panic took over my brain like a sickness so I no longer had control of it.  I twisted and elbowed the man in his helmet, kicked him and punched and flailed, an odd growling filling the room, and I wondered vaguely where it came from.  The man muttered something like a curse in another language, and threw me into the wall.  Feeling slightly dazed, I tried to get up quickly but then he had me again, then an explosion tore my mind apart as my world went black.

 

            A throbbing pulsed against my flesh; I ached everywhere, but the main source I realized was in my head.  Well, that means I’m alive, I thought grimly.  Surely heaven would not offer so much pain, and that is obviously where I wish to go after death.  Slowly my eyelids lift, and my head screams in pain by the harsh light that accosts my eyes.   I groan, moving my creaking arms up to cover my eyes with them.  They burned and protested this new movement, but I held them there until my eyes felt somewhat adjusted.  Then I bring them back down and slowly open my eyes again, blinking rapidly against the light and what I now realized was also rain.  Turning my head slowly from side to side, I see the sky is grey and cloudy, with ashy pines surrounding us, and it was an us instead of a me, as I took in the black tents pitched like a mini forest.  The sound then forces itself on me, as I hear horses whinnying close by, and dogs baying in the distance.  Men, and lots of them, are talking very loudly, some even shouting, and my heart begins to race with renewed terror as my last waking memories seep into my consciousness. 

            Oh my God, where am I?  Where am I?!  I try to calm my nerves, and start to sit up, but a lightning bolt laces through my head and I lay back down, feeling nauseous.  Alright, I have to asses my situation, and I cannot let on that I am as weak as I am right now.  A little slower now, I rise up and brace myself against the pain again, but my stomach rises with a vengeance, and I throw up to the side.  Oh that’s fabulous I think, as I spit out any residue, wiping my mouth off with disgust. 

            “Are you alright?”

            Startled, I turn and see an old woman peering at me in concern.  I take her in with her lank, grey hair made wet by the rain, and then I take them all in, all of the people sitting in this mud with me.  My God there are a lot of them, where did they all come from?    

            “Yes, I’m fine, thanks.” I answer shyly, I have never been a big talker and have always felt uneasy around those I didn’t know.  She nods and turns to look across the field of tents and men.

            “You were out for a while, two or three days I thinks.  They was startin’ to say that if yas didn’t wake up soon, they would shoot yas.  They don’t like carryin’ dead weight.”  She shot me an apologetic look. 

            “Oh I see.”  My heart trembled in my chest.  So I was going to have to put a lot of effort into this charade of strength; I did not even know if I could stand at the moment.  Again I turned to look at these people with me, and it was then that I noticed that we were all shackled to each other.  Slaves I realized in horror, that is what we were to become.  Anger seethed quietly under my skin, and a righteous indignation that I had not felt until after that day with the Amulet.  This, along with other emotions would crowd into my skull, feelings that did not seem to be mine, but someone else’s, jockeying for space with my own in the same body.  It was all very strange, but I had gotten used to it somewhat, although at times it still annoyed me.  Not now though, now it made it feel like I had someone with me, which comforted me a little.

            “Oh dear, it seems that your mind has drifted.  Yas do not want to look like yas think too much ’round these men.  Theys not like it when wes think, theys like to thinks us like cows, chewin’ ours cud.”  Anger flared again in me at these words, a short fire burst there and gone again.  I looked at her wizened features, her clear gold eyes and her long nose that could have been beautiful once.

            “Are we to be slaves?” I asked this bluntly because I wanted a true answer no matter how much it hurt.  Her face fell a little.

            “Yes my dear.  If yous weren’t before, then yas surely will be now.”

            “If that is to be the case, if my dignity and my free will be taken away from me, then my thoughts, which are my own, surely will not.  I will have them for mine to keep, I assure you of that.”  The woman snickered a little, but her face hardened. 

            “That is a pretty little speech from one who has never encountered the slave trade.  You will keep your head down and your eyes blank, and you will maybe live.  Otherwise, you will bring naught but evil upon your head.”  I noticed that her strange accent was gone now, and realized it must be a front to cover her educated nature, to make them think she was simple when she wasn’t.  It was a survival trick.  She must have noticed my face reddening from embarrassment, for her face softened, and her eyes crinkled in a half smile.

            “I’m sorry dearie.  I had to make sure yas understood what yas was up against.  Jus’ tryin’ to help yas, dearie.”  I nodded, my heart sinking with the knowledge that I knew was true.  The trauma of the last couple of days, with the realization that my mother and family were dead and I was now alone and a slave, came crashing down on me in a monstrous, killing wave.  Tears burst forth as I broke under the weight, and I barely kept my aching sobs in check.  From the horrors that she has told me so far, I certainly did not want to bring attention to myself, yet I had to let it out or my body would crack in two. 

            Suddenly the old woman elbows me in the ribs, hissing in my ear.  I bite my lip and seal all my feelings back behind a makeshift dam.  A large man in the same black armor as before comes walking down the line, barking at us all in that strange language, and we all rise to our feet, though I felt I was being more dragged than anything else.  It was then that I noticed that the tents were being torn down and the horses saddled.  My heart sunk a little further with the knowledge that I was now being taken to somewhere I had never been, and I had no idea where to or how far it was.  Then to my horror, the man stops beside me and mutters something I cannot understand.  He grabs my arm and pinches, grinning as I wince at the pain in my already aching limbs.  Muttering something else, he guffaws annoyingly loud and lets go, still guffawing.  Without thinking, I glare fiercely at his back, the strange feelings rising up again in my defense.  I was daring him silently to come back, then I remembered the old woman’s words and lowered my eyes, stinging with anger. 

            A rough tug on my manacles yanks me forward, and it is with that that we begin to move.  I notice that I am about twenty or thirty people behind the horse that tugs at us; yet another large man perched on top.  Vaguely I wondered if there were any of them that were just average build instead of ridiculously muscular.  But now I studied the black armor that I had seen so much of.  It was hard to tell details from this distance since there were no accent colors, but I could make out elegant, knotted designs that twirled around each other, and evoked the feelings of eternity and unity.  There was also a foreign symbol stamped in the middle, which looked like a triangle with an X through it, crowned with an eye.  I could make nothing of this imagery, but it still tugged at the corners of my mind.  But my mind was suddenly distracted.  About ten people ahead, a guard stopped a man who had been talking, and viciously beat him until another guard came and stopped him, lest he kill the man.  The first guard shouted something angrily and stamped away, as the man brought himself back up, weak and shaken.  It seemed to not be the best time to get an uncharacteristically chatty streak.  I kept my eyes down for the rest of the way, my stomach wobbly and weak from the violence.  Occasionally I would peek up and take in the same grey scene that changed only slightly with rivers and interesting rock formations, lest I should get a cramp in my neck, which I didn’t want to add to my collection of aches.  So I would study the bruises I had gotten from fighting off the guards a couple of nights before, as the sky finally began to darken, much to my relief. 

            Shouting begins again and I safely raise my head, taking in the chaos.  As for us, we are taken to a patch of mud in the middle of the mess of tent pitching, in case one of us should get a mad urge to make a dash for the woods.  My feet and legs cry out in release and pain as I am brought to the ground under the weight of the others connected to me through  my manacles.  I guess its frowned on to stand I think in disgust, stretching my legs out in front of me and rubbing my hands along them to loosen up the knots.  A guard comes through and tosses out bread to us, not wishing to spare anything unnecessarily on us, just enough to keep us walking.  Nibbling at my bread in annoyance, I notice the old woman, who had been behind me during our walk, now beside me again, peering at me curiously.  I sigh inwardly, annoyed further by being gawked at by this woman who I have decided may be slightly unhinged, despite her helpfulness. 

            “What’s your name?” I ask, trying to fight off my boredom and to get her to stop staring at me. 

            “Liddie, and you must be Mabel.” she answered happily, still peering at me with her big gold eyes.  Unease slithers through me, how did she know my name?

            “I was not aware that I had already introduced myself.” I answer awkwardly, shifting my gaze away from her and onto the chaos that still surrounded us as the soldiers pitched camp. 

            “Oh, yous didn’t.  I’s jus’ heard it from the soldiers.  Theys been talkin’ ’bout yas fer days now, but I’s didn’t realize it was yous until that man talked to yas today.”  At first I was confused until I remembered the man who had grabbed me earlier that day, and again the anger flashed through me, then subsided.

            “Really?  So you can understand their language?”  I was trying to draw attention away from the fact, that for some odd reason, these soldiers knew me by name and had been discussing me.  She nodded, grinning, three of her teeth missing, which added to her slightly mad appearance.

            “Yes, and theys been talkin ’bout yous girly.  Don’t be’s alarmed though, theys jus knows yas from papers from yas home when theys raided yas.  Tis not like yas anything special to thems or nuffin, theys was jus tired of carryin’ yas and how yas was a burden.”  She grinned again, but I was outraged.

            “Raided?!  Is that what they have been calling it?!  A raid my ass, that was a blatant murdering of a family and turning their daughter slave, whom they had fought so hard to protect!”  By now I could tell that I was yelling, but I couldn’t calm myself down before I had attracted the attention of the guards.  Oddly, it was the same one from this morning who had come by, but he was scowling now.  I clamped my lips shut and tried to get the blank look in my eyes, but it didn’t work, as I could feel the glare that I was giving him.  Suddenly he back handed me, snapping my head to the right and I fell back into Liddie, feeling somewhat dazed.  Frankly, I wasn’t sure how much trauma my head could take till it busted like an egg.  Liddie was speaking quietly to him in his language, and he listened to her like a man listens to a know-it-all child that was not his.  Then he cut her off and barked something, gesturing at me, shot me one glare, and lumbered off to the tents.  Her fingers began stroking my forehead and tracing along my hair, and to my shame, I felt the tears, hot and wet, stream down my cheeks again.  Sobs began to choke out from between my lips, and I buried my head in her musty smelling chest that smelled oddly of basil and sweat.  If I don’t get a grip, they’ll all think I’m a basket case.  Slowly I pushed the feelings back again, raising up and wiping my eyes. 

            “Shut ‘er up over ther, shes gonna bring dem guards back on us!”  someone whispered loudly. Again I felt ashamed, as I looked around and saw no one else sobbing like a fool into a mad woman’s embrace.  I turned to Liddie, feeling embarrassed by my thought of her being insane.

            “I am so sorry, Liddie.  I didn’t mean to react that way, it just…came out again.  And I didn’t mean to yell…”  I trailed off as she smiled wisely at me.

            “I know dearie.  We were all like that when we were first captured, and some of us still are.”  She winked at me, then sobered again, and I noticed that she had again lapsed into her normal speech, feeling comfortable to know only I could hear.

            “Would you like to know what has been said by the guards so far?” she whispered.  I nodded, sniffing, much to my chagrin, knowing it made me even more pathetic than I was before.

            “Well, that man, the one now, who had talked to you this morning.  He basically said that he saw you were up, and hoped you were stronger than you looked.  If not, you’d be dead by nightfall.  Tonight, I explained to him how you were upset and still adjusting, and he told me to keep you in line or someone would likely come and kill you in your sleep, guard or slave, it mattered not to him.”  She studied me as I took it all in, realizing how much the other slaves did not like me, since I had gotten so much attention at first, and now I seemed like a troublemaker.  Great.  I nodded slowly, showing I understood.

            “Where are these people from?” I wanted to take the focus off of me, always an uncomfortable subject, and learn something that may help me later on.  Liddie leaned away slightly, and looked pensive.

            “Well, they live in the mountains, in fortresses built out of the living rock, dark and silvery rock that makes the heart tremble by simple sight.  The mountains, I believe, are on the border of Saodin and Alanhair, so they are a threat for both countries.  For centuries, they have been extending their power into both regions, using advanced magic and science to aid them.  In fact, they are very literary, with poems and opera and culture, which surprises many by looking at their soldiers, but it is not so surprising when one sees the court.  Theirs is an ancient and beautiful language; I speak the vernacular, but you should hear the court speech if ever you get a chance.  You can hear the power and the years in it, it is almost poetry.” 

            She watched me as I absorbed all of this.  My heart throbbed with the description of these seemingly violent people that were so cultured, but something was bothering me.

            “If they are so advanced and such a threat, then why haven’t they taken over by now?  Wouldn’t I have heard about them before now if they were so great?”  Again she peered at me, making me feel uneasy.

            “I have not yet told you their name, dearie, so how do you know whether or not you have heard of them?”  I nodded in affirmation, again caught in speaking too hastily.

            “Well, they are the Vlantians, of the Vlanthere mountains.  How about now dearie?  Are they not great after all?”  she snickered at my pale face; I had indeed heard much about them, and how they were a terror in sweeping the lands, looking for slave labor to feed their massive empire which was still growing like a virus.  A cold trickled through me.  I found my ability of speech after awhile, still wanting to know the answer to what was bothering me.

            “So, what keeps them from overtaking everything then?”  I asked again.  Liddie became solemn again, after her gleeful taunting of my arrogance.

            “There is something in the people of Saodin, do you not remember?  You are from here, after all, surely you have heard of the dragon spirits of these lands?”  I had heard of them, and again the memory of the dragon Amulet and the voice that had declared itself in my head flashed across my mind.

            “Of course I have, and that we are the Children of the Wind and heirs to the Dragon Throne.  But Liddie, these are legends, something that may have had place in fact but is no longer something of reality.”  Despite all of her knowledge, I knew now she was definitely mad, but a new uncertainty clambered into my mind. 

            “Oh dearie, the Saodins have a language as ancient as the Vlantians, and are the only ones that rival them in that aspect.  The Saodins are the only ones that are giving the Vlantians a run for their money, and that is because of the power in these lands and the people.  That is why when we get there, I feel I should warn you to not let them see the skin at the base of your scalp.  They will know right away what you are and treat you accordingly.”  I was alarmed, I do not remember my family or I ever telling any travelers that our people have a patch of pearly scales at the base of our scalps.  Many claimed that that is what gave us claim in our right to the Dragon Throne.  All of this time I thought it a pretty story, and I still prefer to and to think Liddie insane, though the uncertainty nibbled more strongly.

            “I can see that you do not know whether or not to believe me.  But let me tell you this, we are about four weeks away from the border.  Although it seems a long time from now, we will be caught in a whirlwind from the guards, and I may not be able to speak to you again.  Pure blood Saodins are a very rare jewel, and if they find out about you, you are dead, or worse, they will break you.  Be careful, Mabel.”

            “But how did you know I was a pure blood?  Sounds like I don’t have much of a chance to hide myself if you can tell so easily.”  Liddie simply smiled.

            “Do not worry dearie, no one else within that kingdom is as perceptive as I am.  You are safe if you mind what I’ve told you.  Now take care and don’t do anything foolish, you know, in case I don’t get to see you before we get there.”  Somehow the way she said this made me uneasy, but I tried to brush it off.

            “What are you saying, Liddie?  You said we have another four weeks until we arrive.”  But she just smiled and told me to sleep, since we had a long trek and not many hours to rest.  So I decided to sleep since she had begun to talk so cryptically, and frankly I didn’t want to deal with strange old women and weird riddles. 

 

 

            The next morning we woke to another grey day, and I looked to Liddie to greet her, but to my chagrin, she was not there.  I glanced up and down the column, but I could not find her, so I assumed that she was transferred to a different spot and I couldn’t see her for all of the people.  Loneliness began to creep in, but I pushed it aside; I wouldn’t be able to talk to her during the journey, and I would see her at night anyway.  Again, the guard from yesterday marches up the column and stopped to say something in his strange language, and continued.  That guffawing of his was going to really get on my nerves.      Then we started walking again with the now familiar tug from my manacles.  Guards would pace up and down the columns to make sure none of us had escaped and that we were all behaving, and I would pick up snippets of conversation.  Each time they passed, my ears would perk up and I would strain to hear anything familiar in each conversation, since I had heard Liddie describe it, I had an aching desire to learn it.  But then the conversations would taper off as the guards got angrier with having to walk for such a long time, and we would make sure we did nothing to make them angrier during this time; punishments were harsher then.  My mind would then turn to my family and my mother, how they had all died, and how I had failed them.  I hadn’t listened to my mother when she told me to run, I should have, I see that now, and now I am a slave.  I became anxious as I thought that no one was there to bury them, and how beasts would come and, I couldn’t force myself to think the rest.  Now I had failed them in their burial rights, which meant they would be forced to haunt that area until they were buried, and if the animals got there then there would be nothing I could do to help them.  My mind had entered a near panic mode, but then I began to think of them alive, which was overpowered by their last moments of life.  All day my mind chased itself in a vicious circle until it was exhausted and I was tired and drained. 

            Night came again and as we were rounded up into another mud pit, I collapsed under the weight of my mind, grabbing the bread as it was thrown to me and absently rubbing the kinks in my legs.  Liddie wasn’t there to distract me from my mind and it tore at me relentlessly.  It wasn’t until I felt an odd tugging at my chains that I had noticed a man, one of the slaves, had edged closer to me and was watching the guards as they worked, absently eating his bread.  I peered at him out of the corner of my eye, then he turned and greeted me.  Then I noticed that he was young, and had the potential to be attractive if he were clean and not emaciated.  I smiled and continued eating my bread, not really in the mood for discussion with someone who clearly seemed to be lacking a few screws.  It seems my lot in life to be around crazies; I wonder if God is trying to hint at something I thought, amused and perturbed all at once. 

            “I’m Jacob.  You look new, didn’t you just arrive three days ago?”  What kind of greeting is that?  Hi, welcome to the slammer, glad you shed your family?  Yeah, great.

            “Four days.  Nice to meet you Jacob.” I muttered around my bread, trying to appear rude.  Some men are just so dull.

            “Don’t I get to know your name?” he asked lightly, his eyes sparkling.  I then noticed his eyes were green, damn, I love green. 

            “It’s Mabel.”

            “Is there a last name that goes with that?”  I turned to him in amazement, I had clearly not made an effort to continue the conversation, yet there he goes like it really is two sided and not just him making conversation with an unusually talkative wall, which is how I see it.  Slowly I began to feel cranky, and he was just pushing my buttons.

            “If I had wished to give it, I would have.  Surely you have sense enough to admit that.” I snapped.  Unfortunately he seemed un phased. 

            “Yeah sure, you’re independent, I respect that, really I do.”  He leaned away from me a little though, which pleased me.  Yeah, I bet you do I thought grimly.  I didn’t say anything and continued to eat the last pieces.  Then I leaned back on my elbows and closed my eyes, ignoring him, and listening to what phrases I could pick up of this new language.  The ones that I found I recognized I would mouth, tasting them and molding my mouth to their shape. 

            “What do you have to look so intense about?  Was the bread really that good?”  Seriously, was he really this slow, or was he just bored?  Well, I don’t blame him for that if it’s the latter. 

            “I’m trying to learn the language.”  I muttered.  I peeked out of the corner of my eye and saw him nod, and he started to move away a little more.  He muttered something like “that’s cool” and he slid away a little more.  Suddenly I felt so guilty for being rude, that I couldn’t concentrate anymore, so I leaned back on the ground and lay there.  Again I cursed my anger, and I turned onto my side to see where he had gone.  He was just a few spaces away, across the achingly empty space where Liddie had been.  I suppose he couldn’t have gone very far even if he wanted to, we are shackled together after all.  Then he looked so lonely that another stab of guilt plagued me.  Slowly I rose and crawled over to where he sat, and plopped beside him.  He glanced at me warily and I turned to him.  Damn I hate apologies, and because of my temper, it seems I’m always the one making them.

            “Look, I’m sorry for earlier, I was not myself.  I had been thinking about my family and where we’re going…”  I trailed off, searching his face for a reaction.  He turned slowly to me and looked me up and down.

            “Well, I’m not used to being talked to like that.  Most people love me, they say I am all loveable like…like a puppy!  But I guess I will forgive you, since you have a valid reason for treating me like dirt.”  I flinched then glared at him, thinking he was working it a little too much.

            “Thanks…Ill see you in the morning…Just wanted to clear the air.”  I answered awkwardly, sliding back over to my area.

            “Yeah, see ya Mabel!”  he crowed, then he flopped down onto his side, and I swear, as soon as he touched the earth, he was snoring.  Feeling a little better, I eased my still aching body down and closed my eyes, falling asleep to the wind and the sound of muttered whispers.

 

            That next morning, I swear that I woke to someone poking me, and of course it was Jacob, and I groaned, rolling my eyes at him as he grinned, still poking my side with a long stick.  Suddenly I wondered to myself if it was really such a good move to repair things between us.  Then we rose and started our march, with my guard coming by to have yet another lovely chat that only one of us understands, but of course I was listening avidly for any words I could pick up.  I must admit that after we had marched a couple of hours, the scenery did change a little, it was starting to get slightly more hilly with more lush greenery.  Jacob would now sneak little snippets of conversation which to my horror, I found myself giggling to, which almost brought my guard over.  This made me cranky and determined to ignore him till nightfall.  And every evening I would look for Liddie, and every morning she was never there.  Obviously she was not there anymore, which made me confused and sad.  If she had escaped, why didn’t she take me?  The grimmer thoughts of her possible death by guards also popped up now and then, but somehow they just seemed less likely than her being a wild fugitive living in the woods with the bears.  It fit her somehow, and that is what I began to tell myself.

            The weeks passed in almost the same exact fashion, which in itself would have been horrifying if I hadn’t had Jacob to amuse me.  Much to my excitement, by listening and practicing, I had gained the ability to speak conversationally with my new language, but of course I was nowhere near being fluent.  I was also relieved that I would be able to speak and understand a little of the language of this hostile land, and again fear would trickle through me at the thought of those mountains.  The land had sharply went from hills to towering mountains, and it was when we began to trek up the pass that I began to feel a darkness, a foreboding that clutched at me and clung to my spirit.  I did not like it, and I had expressed this to Jacob many times, and he would always agree that it was indeed not a place for the living.  But as we got closer to the city, my guard had gotten stranger, keeping closer and closer than what I deemed necessary, but I bit my tongue against an outburst. 

            But even though I had been forewarned, nothing could have braced me for the city itself.  As we crested the final peak before it, the Captain of the Guard, whom I had not seen until now, turned to us, and several things made me catch my breath.  Firstly, he was huge, almost twice as big as his soldiers, then his helmet, which looked barbed and like a weapon unto itself.  But it was the Dragon crested on his chest that did it.  As soon as my eyes lit on it, my chest constricted, and a roaring filled my ears.  Fire filled my veins, my muscles pulsing to my erratic heartbeat.  I became dizzy and felt as if something were trying to burst out of me, and the feelings that weren’t mine spiraled up out of me like a firestorm.  Desperately I fought it down, terrified, for I had never felt this before.  Luckily, Jacob was the only one that noticed me gasping like a drunken fool, and so when the Captain turned away after a speech that I am sure was both inspirational and threatening, we continued marching, and the horror of the moment passed as quickly as if it never happened.  Jacob quickly helped me to my feet before anyone noticed, for which I was grateful, and then my heart almost stopped.  Honestly, I don’t know how much more of this I could take.  The slate colored rock broke off abruptly into a dark and misted ravine, looking like a giant had smashed it off.  There was a solid obsidian bridge, with no hand rails mind you, that stretched across this yawning maw.  Then on the other side is what truly makes you stop.  Rows and rows of buildings stretched as far as the eye could see on either side, even descending into the ravine, and I then noticed the city’s lights flickering from within.  I could tell that the building cut back into the mountain as well, as a whole subterranean fortress.  My mind could not wrap around the sheer size of this place, and the presence and the beauty of its gothic architecture was almost too much to fathom.

            Slowly, I was dragged across the precipice, and luckily I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight in front of me, otherwise I was liable to look down and accidentally throw us all off in a panic.  As soon as I set foot on the black rock on the other side, the feeling of something ageless and beyond me settled in my bones, and I could not shake it.  We were then taken along a small path that wrapped around the outside of this beast of a city, and after a mile or so, it thankfully turned into the mountain.  Then we were stopped outside of the city gates, towering above us were two obsidian dragons twisting along the posts until I could see their heads at the top, mouths open in a snarl.  Slowly the heat began to rise in me again, my palms became sweaty and my breathing labored.  But I fought it off more quickly this time since I knew of it.  Honestly, this place liked dragons, and it was going to get pretty interesting if I went into a fit every time I saw one.

            Once the watchmen at the gate had checked everything, we were allowed to pass through.  I had been expecting something dark, and well, subterranean, but the path we had to pass through to get to the city itself was well lit and even carpeted in a lush crimson.  Oh good Lord, don’t tell me we have to take our shoes off first, that would just really make my day.  As I was mulling over the odd placement of carpeting, we came into the huge, monstrous city.  Even though it was a behemoth, the city itself was constructed from delicate, golden metal that weaved and spawned buildings and strange posts with lights that flickered but did not snuff out.  Strange machines that seemed to work under their own power drifted through, and huge, pod shaped towers filled with a cloudy, glowing blue substance dotted the city.  The main colors here were red, black and gold, the red and black as accents to the golden skeleton of the city, with the occasional glowing blue.  People, truly many whom I didn’t even know what race they were, drifted through the streets with strange animals and tiny chirping machines carrying things for them.

            Truly I was spell bound as we were led throughout, I could not even tell what half of the buildings were for or what the other things functioned as.  So intoxicated with wonder was I, that I did not notice when we were being led into a slightly darker portion of the city.  The lights had begun to dim to orange, and suddenly we were being jostled in this wave of life that had seemed to come out of nowhere.  Venders were shouting there wares from black, rickety stalls, sometimes being bold enough to reach out and touch passersby.  Disgusted, I huddled closer to the others in line, and for once I was thankful for my guard being so close.  The path began to decline slightly, and we were taken beneath a bridge of houses, and on the other side, my stomach lurched as I took in the sight of a wooden stage surrounded by a crowd.  On that stage were men, women, and children, stripped naked with their heads shaved or cropped into a bob.  An auctioneer was shouting numbers, while individuals from the crowd called out, and the poor soul being sold was led off the stage to make room for the next.  Suddenly the feelings that were not mine lurched to the surface and I gasped, shocked by this wave of emotion.  The guard gave me a sharp glance, figuring that the scene before us was too much for me.  I didn’t care as I wrestled with myself once more. 

            By the time I had gotten myself under control, we had been taken to a vast, metal building, dark and grey with a tinge of green light.  It made me sick.  Then the line was being divided into six different stations, where people were being stripped, blasted with a hose, and then their hair was cut off.  My heart trembled, and I barely stopped my hand from going up to the scales at the base of my scalp.  I sent up a silent prayer that I would not be discovered, as I was sent to be stripped.  Shame, the likes of which I have never felt, flooded me as people manhandled my naked body, which I had been very sensitive about to begin with.  The hose felt like they were shooting ice shards into my skin, and then when they cut my hair I felt that they had lingered briefly on my scalp, but then I was lined up with the others again.  Light drifted in softly, its orange glow so strange that it made me even more anxious.  I could hear the man auctioning off the people, and I began to tremble as all of the thoughts of what I was to become flooded me.  Since I had kept my place of about thirty people from the front, it did not take very long to get to me.  As they took me by the arm and dragged me onto the stage, I found that I was praying madly in my mind as my limbs began to shake so that I felt I would be knocked off my feet by it.  The flood of noise was deafening, and I tried desperately to cover my nakedness, which was met by a hard slap from the overseers on the stage.  My cheeks burned and to my chagrin, the tears seeped out again.  Peeking up under my lashes, I scanned the crowd to see who was bidding on me, but I could not tell for the sheer size of the crowd. 

            Then I was being shoved off the stage just as quickly, and it made me sick to think how quickly a person’s life is to be decided.  I was being roughly clothed in a coarse linen outfit, and then I was set to wait on a wooden bench, shackled again but with my hands bound to my feet.  The simple dehumanization of this process crushed me with its weight, and traces of the fire began to whisper in my veins.  Somehow amidst all of this chaos, I was able to hear the wheels of a wagon and the clopping of hooves.  I turned and saw a large man in a black cloak climb out awkwardly, then make his way over to where I sat.  Revulsion filled me, and I am not sure if I was able to keep that out of my gaze. 

            “Get up, girl.”  he snarled, pulling up sharply on my manacles.  I winced from the pain, but he was already dragging me over to his carriage, which was black and drawn by two huge black horses.  Terror bloomed in my mind, and I fought to keep my wits about me, as I found myself climbing in to sit across from this awful man.  Feeling his gaze on me, I searched for a window to look out of, and finding none, I met his glare.  The carriage had already begun moving before he spoke.

            “I came on behalf of my master to order more slaves.  When we arrive, you are to start right away.  No rests, no breaks.  We did not purchase you so that you can be lazy.”  I was shocked by the way he spoke to me, but remembered my new station, which was not hard to forget with this itchy outfit.  I nodded though, to show I’d understood.

            “So what is it that I will be doing?” I asked, to avoid the awkwardness of the situation.

            “What would I know that for?!  I am the master’s butler, not a mere slave wench!”  He had started to tremble slightly, his face reddening.

            “Oh of course.  But I wonder, does the butler usually run such errands as this?” I asked with a wave of my hand, sensing something underneath and deciding to run with it.  His eyes bulged slightly, but then he got a hold of his anger.

            “The master has been a bit short staffed as of late.”  He sniffed and turned his large nose away and stared at the wall. 

            “Why is that I wonder?” He turned and glowered at me, his jowls starting to tremble again, which I had to fight to not laugh at.  This taunting of him was the only way to take my mind off of things, which had I been thinking of them, I am sure I would have crumbled and blown away on the wind.  I didn’t care that he might punish me, it was such a release.

            “I don’t like your tone!  You are entirely too inquisitive for your own good!  Why, if I hadn’t paid so much for you, I would consider throwing you out on you ass!”

            “And with the master so short staffed and all.”  I said with a sigh.  I couldn’t resist that last one, though he did look like he would toss me out, in spite of the money.  But he slowly calmed down and stopped quivering, and fixed a hard eye on me.

            “Listen here, girly.  The master will have none of this backtalk, and certainly no amount of poking into his business.”  He sniffed again and whipped his long nose back to the wall, determined to ignore me.  Sighing, I turned to the wall too, the way he kept turning to it, I would have hoped that it was more interesting than it was.  Turning slightly, I peered at him out of the corner of my eye, but he was showing no signs of discussion. 

            A half hour later, we began to slow down, and I assumed that we had reached wherever we were going, for I did not have any windows to see.  The door opened and the butler heaved himself out, breathing heavily, and gave a good tug on my manacles.  Stumbling out of the carriage, I took note of the springy footman holding the door, and then turned to the large mansion.  It was larger than any of the elders of my land deemed necessary, yet it was breathtaking.  The balconies were of wrought iron, with large towers spiraling up.  Windows glowed with an eerie red or purple light, and I swallowed, calming the mad beating of my heart.  I was urged forward with a shove, and followed the butler as he waddled up the stairs to the front door.  It swung open for him without any prompting, and I was dragged into the dimly lit antechamber.  A maid dressed in black with a white apron scurried forward and took the butler’s coat, she was quiet and bleak, and I hoped that I would not become her mirror. 

            The butler scowled at her as if she was in the way, then tugged me behind him as he climbed the spiral staircase to the upper levels. I thought this strange, surely I would be working someplace lower like the kitchen or something.  Then we walked down a hallway that was lit by sconces and lined with portraits, and he rapped on the door at the end, announcing himself through the hardwood.  As we waited for a reply, the butler shot me a glare, then studied the door. 

            “Yes, come in Edgar.” A man’s voice called out from the other side.  The butler opened the door slowly and dragged me in, and closed it behind him.