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The door creaked open, the groan of the hinges a nerve-wracking promise of what was to come. Aea slowly walked into the cramped room and kept her eyes riveted to the far wall. She held her chin up and her posture straight, faking her confidence until she felt just as able as she hopefully appeared.
The man's steps tapped softly into the room behind her and she stopped walking, her legs almost pressed to the plain mattress upon the rickety wooden frame. It was too warm in the room. She dared not say as much, nor did she dare look away from the wall in front of her. She swallowed. The man stepped closer, his footsteps getting minutely louder with each inch he advanced. When he moved close enough to reach out and stab her in the back, Aea held her breath and her muscles coiled.
He didn’t stab her, nor did he say anything. Neither did she. Her mind was spinning like a wagon wheel, though only the Gods had wagons that moved so fast as her thoughts. There were no words attached to them, only images. They jumped from what she knew of the actions she was to take, to the memory of seeing animals joining, to what might happen if she simply left right now.
“Do you want me to undress you?” The man’s voice was quiet.
Heat was slowly swallowing the skin of her face, ears, neck, and chest. Like a fever. She did not want him to touch her. She should leave. This had been a terrible idea. The worst idea Kaia had to date. Aea did not want to be here. She knew she should be, for if she ran before facing whatever mystery frightened her so, she would always be afraid. But she remembered her father’s words, over and over again throughout the years—if she joined with any man without his express permission and blessing, the Gods would curse her with child and that child would rip her open, just as she had ripped open her own faceless, nameless mother. If a man looked upon her, touched her, spoke to her without Hektos’ allowance, that man would scorn her, beat her, humiliate her, for men did not respect that which did not belong to them. That’s why Hektos treasured her so, because she belonged to him as all daughters belonged to their fathers. If she did not belong to him, he would have broken her for sport long ago.
Kaia had done things, though. She’d done them without Agolois or Hektos being any wiser. The Gods did not curse her with child, she did not get hurt, and she did not regret it. That's what she told herself again and again. She hated fear, hated it more than anything, but illogical fear was worse. Despite that, Aea did not feel right being here. It did not feel natural to be with this strange man in this alien place. She did not want to be here.
Her was body frozen save for her right hand, lifted evenly to her hips, her fingers curled in the air and frozen inches from a dagger.
“Here. Allow me.” The man took a step closer when Aea's non-answer left too much silence between them.
“I’ll do it.” Aea snapped. He stopped moving. She swallowed the excess saliva gathering in her mouth. He will not hurt you, stupid girl. But how could she be so sure when he was still armed?
She opened her mouth and almost insisted that he go first, but her words got caught in her throat. No. She inhaled them back in her lungs and told herself to stop being such a coward. But she wasn’t being a coward...she was being smart. It wasn’t wise to be naked in front of an armed stranger, no matter what the circumstance. But then, wouldn’t he feel just as vulnerable if he were naked and she was armed? Did he even know she was armed?
The man sighed behind her and she made her decision before she was consciously aware of it. Her hand grasped the familiar and worn handle of her left-most dagger and as she unsheathed it, she pivoted to face the man.
The sharp end of his sword hovered a few inches from her chest.
Her eyes widened and her mind slid to a place between confusion and nothingness. A numb sort of surprise that hadn't had a chance to morph into panic. Slowly, she looked up to his face. Her dagger was weightless in her hand. In place of the man's amicable, eager expression was a new coldness that she'd seen many times before. The eyes of a predator locked upon her, neither hungry not excited but resigned in its gluttonous nature.
"I don't usually make a sport of women, but I'll make an exception for you," the man said. His voice was even and modulated. His accent was gone.
He raised his foot to step closer and she couldn't move away. When it pressed noiselessly to the floor, she still could not move. Could not understand.
"Scream and I'll kill you," he said. The cold tip of his blade rested gently against her clavicle.
She wanted to speak. To scream. She'd never had the urge to scream before, not for something like this. The man was going to kill her regardless of whether she screamed or stayed quiet. She knew this game well, she'd just never been on the losing side before. Aea opened her mouth. Instinct, maybe, or stupidity. Either. Both.
The blade stung her flesh, pressing into it and parting it like cream. The pain was small, delayed, but it was there. A foreign object resting between beads of blood and layers of skin, threatening to spear through sinew and bone and vein if she dared. And so, for perhaps the first time in her life, staring up at this man from the end of his sword, she did not dare. As her mind reawakened and snarled for her to fucking move, her body did not—would not—comply.
“Drop your knife on the bed.”
She did.
“Take off your clothes.”
Her pride was gone. Here in this tiny room with this strange man, she did not have the stomach to be brave. There was nobody to impress, no standard to meet, no competition to be had. There was only predator and prey, life and death, and though she knew she would die tonight, she desperately did not want to. And she hated herself for it.
“Next time you decide to impersonate a whore, maybe pick a man who wasn’t talking exclusively to other men when shopping for one. Or perhaps consider not dressing like a prepubescent street urchin and wearing weapons where anybody could see them. Stupid girl. You’re lucky I took pity on you, and not someone else.”
A strong person would have knocked his sword aside. A fearless person would push against his blade and smile, daring him to press further, taunting him with the loudness of her impending death rattle. A smart person would negotiate for her life, tell him that she could take him to buried treasure and lead him to a camp full of angry highwaymen instead. A prideful person would have told him to take his pity and go fuck himself with it.
Aea’s hands shook as she raised them to her clothing. She pulled the knot holding the soft hide chalmys to her shoulders. It dropped to the floor. She reached behind her.
“No,” the man said. He looked purposefully at the place where her mouth should be. Aea shook her head. The man’s expression moved finally, from placid to the barest tilt of the upper lip. The most mild of sneers.
“Take it off, ball it up, and put it in your mouth.”
She didn’t know why she did not comply, she just knew that she could not let him see her face. If he saw it, she would lose the single strand of calm she still had. He would see...everything. And he would know. And he would kill her slower for it.
He moved so quickly, like a lightning strike. His blade swept away from her, his body towering over her. Her epiblema ripped from her, Aea flinched and tried covering her face on instinct. His fingers stabbed the cloth down her throat and she didn’t know why she did it, she didn’t know why she did anything. Her teeth sank into his digits and she locked her jaw so tightly that the coldness in his eyes melted against the hot fury erupting across his face. He bared his teeth in pain, choking back on whatever noise threatened to spill from him.
His other hand was suddenly in the air, and then it wasn't. There was pressure against her windpipe, tight and burning, but she did not let go. Her father’s grave voice overtook her thoughts. Pain is only weakness fleeing the flesh. The sharp twack of leather to bare skin. The loss of air. Don’t you dare fucking cry. Blood dropping like sweat where the tears rent the flesh. She couldn't breathe. If I see one fucking tear. A slap, a thwack, a crack of a sapling arm. If I see that fucking lip move. She could not breathe. I’ll fucking kill you. Clouds of hazy color swirled against the man’s twisted face. Her cheek throbbed. I’ll fucking kill you. She couldn’t feel her insides. I’ll fucking kill you. Don’t you fucking...dare. She was dying.
She tried calling out, but her voice was gone. Hektos was looming above her, the ceiling looming above him. His knuckles bled white in the blinding torchflame. Suspended sandstone. His black eyes sucked out all the color in the room, his teeth gnashing and gleaming with angry drool. Aea reached up. She tasted blood. It always smelled like oranges to her. It clogged her throat like barely cooked venison, moving up and down, unsure of whether to fall in or fly out. I did good. I didn’t cry. Fat black tendrils curling like smoke wafted over her eyes and ate the room. I didn’t cry.
And then, nothing.
***
She was dead. For minutes or eons, she didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. Death was pitch black, blacker than unexistence. Then, there was a light within the darkness. Now it was mortal-black, the black of a moonless midnight far from fire. She felt things. Pain. Thoughts with words and images. Memories. Her mouth was dry.
Consciousness came back to her little by little until she was fully aware that she was laying on a bed, her body naked, her eyes closed, her mouth gagged, her appendages strangled with rope, and impact injuries upon her face and neck. She knew that if she opened her eyes, she would wish she hadn’t, and so she didn’t. Not for a very long time.
She took stock of her pain. It was only above the collar, as far as she could tell. Her jaw hurt the worst, and the tangy taste of blood was everywhere. She bit down on the material stuffed in her mouth despite the clawing ache of her gums and tried to spit it out to no avail. It was tied tightly to her face. I’ll fucking kill you. She cracked her eyes open and held her breath. She had to look around, to understand what had just happened, and would happen soon.
Slowly, she sat up. Her gaze immediately landed upon an empty room. The man was gone. She looked down and pushed past the immediate upset of her stomach to look at herself as objectively as she could. The sheets beneath her were clean and she had no new bruises or scrapes. Her hands were tied in front of her, so she was able to run a hand along her skin to make absolutely sure she was not bleeding numbly from any unseen wounds. She didn’t understand. He didn’t kill her. He didn’t fuck her. He didn’t cut her open. Why was she naked, gagged, and tied up?
Simply thinking the words was enough to make the bile roar from her stomach to her sternum. She needed her clothes. Where were her clothes? Aea squirmed and wiggled across the sparse mattress until her feet touched the floor. When she stood, she looked frantically around the room. Where were her clothes? She needed her clothes. They weren’t under the bed. They weren’t under the blankets, and Gods damn the fucking rope, she needed to cut them.
Fuck. Fuck, nononono.
She did another sweep of the room. Her knives were gone. Her money—what little she had—vanished. She was stuck until Kaia...no. No, Kaia could not see her like this. That man, that piece of shit, had tricked her. He tricked her and took everything, and now the one person in the world that thought Aea was something more than what she was would see her. She would see what Aea had done. Fuck, she was so fucking stupid.
Why did she think that would work? She so fucking arrogant and vain and stupid that she honestly believed a man would pay a fucking drachme to fuck her. Her. A drachme. Kaia would laugh at her. Not aloud, but in her head. Then she would leave Aea behind. Not now, but later, because she would know, she would know Aea was a fuck up. A bad accident waiting to happen. A failure.
She lost money. They could have bought food with that. She trusted somebody she didn’t know, she’d put herself at his mercy on purpose. This was punishment. This was a lesson. This was deserved. What would her father say? He wouldn’t even be able to look at her.
Aea sunk to the floor, pressing her bare back against the bedpost and the wall. She pressed her nails against her temples and dragged them down her face. It burned, but not enough. She did it again. Her lip wobbled. Don’t you dare fucking cry. She did it again, harder this time. Her focus latched onto the burn, the discomfort. She anchored herself to the scratches blazing fire down her skin and squeezed her eyes closed until she willed away the tears. Nothing mattered but her nails dragging down her cheeks. Nothing mattered but the throb of her jaw. She didn’t know she was rocking back and forth until she started humming a rhythm. She didn’t know she was humming a song she knew until she muttered lyrics in something that was half song and half soothing memory. Aea kept her eyes closed and phantom ozone settled in her nostrils, the vague warmth of two long arms wrapped around her shoulders.
She kept rocking and humming until she heard footsteps. The man had asked for the furthest room, and she hadn’t questioned it before now. It had to be Kaia. Aea had been gone too long. She bolted to her feet without thinking and jumped on the bed, curling onto her side and closing her eyes as if she were asleep. It was so stupid. Childish. She didn’t care. The longer she could draw out having to answer for what had happened, the better.
The footsteps got closer and she inhaled deeply, trying to relax into a convincing faux sleep. She pretended she was wearing clothes because she didn’t want to almost cry again. The footsteps stopped outside of the door and Aea buried her face in the mattress, chocking on an aborted sob. The door groaned on its hinges. Kaia stopped at the threshold for a moment before she stepped inside and closed the door. Her footsteps were heavy. Slow. Dragging the ground from the ball as if her sandals were too large and unwieldy. Aea’s eyes snapped open and she held her breath. Kaia walked heel-toe. Kaia's shoes weren't ill-fitting.
Kaia did not have chains, but there was no mistaking the clink of iron rings.
Arra
Aea
Arra
Aea
Awards
First Impressions:Hourglass; Glossy black hair that falls to her hips, piercing blue eyes, a voluptuous figure, and a serious, concentrated expression.
Address: Your
First Impressions:Hourglass; Glossy black hair that falls to her hips, piercing blue eyes, a voluptuous figure, and a serious, concentrated expression.
Address: Your
The door creaked open, the groan of the hinges a nerve-wracking promise of what was to come. Aea slowly walked into the cramped room and kept her eyes riveted to the far wall. She held her chin up and her posture straight, faking her confidence until she felt just as able as she hopefully appeared.
The man's steps tapped softly into the room behind her and she stopped walking, her legs almost pressed to the plain mattress upon the rickety wooden frame. It was too warm in the room. She dared not say as much, nor did she dare look away from the wall in front of her. She swallowed. The man stepped closer, his footsteps getting minutely louder with each inch he advanced. When he moved close enough to reach out and stab her in the back, Aea held her breath and her muscles coiled.
He didn’t stab her, nor did he say anything. Neither did she. Her mind was spinning like a wagon wheel, though only the Gods had wagons that moved so fast as her thoughts. There were no words attached to them, only images. They jumped from what she knew of the actions she was to take, to the memory of seeing animals joining, to what might happen if she simply left right now.
“Do you want me to undress you?” The man’s voice was quiet.
Heat was slowly swallowing the skin of her face, ears, neck, and chest. Like a fever. She did not want him to touch her. She should leave. This had been a terrible idea. The worst idea Kaia had to date. Aea did not want to be here. She knew she should be, for if she ran before facing whatever mystery frightened her so, she would always be afraid. But she remembered her father’s words, over and over again throughout the years—if she joined with any man without his express permission and blessing, the Gods would curse her with child and that child would rip her open, just as she had ripped open her own faceless, nameless mother. If a man looked upon her, touched her, spoke to her without Hektos’ allowance, that man would scorn her, beat her, humiliate her, for men did not respect that which did not belong to them. That’s why Hektos treasured her so, because she belonged to him as all daughters belonged to their fathers. If she did not belong to him, he would have broken her for sport long ago.
Kaia had done things, though. She’d done them without Agolois or Hektos being any wiser. The Gods did not curse her with child, she did not get hurt, and she did not regret it. That's what she told herself again and again. She hated fear, hated it more than anything, but illogical fear was worse. Despite that, Aea did not feel right being here. It did not feel natural to be with this strange man in this alien place. She did not want to be here.
Her was body frozen save for her right hand, lifted evenly to her hips, her fingers curled in the air and frozen inches from a dagger.
“Here. Allow me.” The man took a step closer when Aea's non-answer left too much silence between them.
“I’ll do it.” Aea snapped. He stopped moving. She swallowed the excess saliva gathering in her mouth. He will not hurt you, stupid girl. But how could she be so sure when he was still armed?
She opened her mouth and almost insisted that he go first, but her words got caught in her throat. No. She inhaled them back in her lungs and told herself to stop being such a coward. But she wasn’t being a coward...she was being smart. It wasn’t wise to be naked in front of an armed stranger, no matter what the circumstance. But then, wouldn’t he feel just as vulnerable if he were naked and she was armed? Did he even know she was armed?
The man sighed behind her and she made her decision before she was consciously aware of it. Her hand grasped the familiar and worn handle of her left-most dagger and as she unsheathed it, she pivoted to face the man.
The sharp end of his sword hovered a few inches from her chest.
Her eyes widened and her mind slid to a place between confusion and nothingness. A numb sort of surprise that hadn't had a chance to morph into panic. Slowly, she looked up to his face. Her dagger was weightless in her hand. In place of the man's amicable, eager expression was a new coldness that she'd seen many times before. The eyes of a predator locked upon her, neither hungry not excited but resigned in its gluttonous nature.
"I don't usually make a sport of women, but I'll make an exception for you," the man said. His voice was even and modulated. His accent was gone.
He raised his foot to step closer and she couldn't move away. When it pressed noiselessly to the floor, she still could not move. Could not understand.
"Scream and I'll kill you," he said. The cold tip of his blade rested gently against her clavicle.
She wanted to speak. To scream. She'd never had the urge to scream before, not for something like this. The man was going to kill her regardless of whether she screamed or stayed quiet. She knew this game well, she'd just never been on the losing side before. Aea opened her mouth. Instinct, maybe, or stupidity. Either. Both.
The blade stung her flesh, pressing into it and parting it like cream. The pain was small, delayed, but it was there. A foreign object resting between beads of blood and layers of skin, threatening to spear through sinew and bone and vein if she dared. And so, for perhaps the first time in her life, staring up at this man from the end of his sword, she did not dare. As her mind reawakened and snarled for her to fucking move, her body did not—would not—comply.
“Drop your knife on the bed.”
She did.
“Take off your clothes.”
Her pride was gone. Here in this tiny room with this strange man, she did not have the stomach to be brave. There was nobody to impress, no standard to meet, no competition to be had. There was only predator and prey, life and death, and though she knew she would die tonight, she desperately did not want to. And she hated herself for it.
“Next time you decide to impersonate a whore, maybe pick a man who wasn’t talking exclusively to other men when shopping for one. Or perhaps consider not dressing like a prepubescent street urchin and wearing weapons where anybody could see them. Stupid girl. You’re lucky I took pity on you, and not someone else.”
A strong person would have knocked his sword aside. A fearless person would push against his blade and smile, daring him to press further, taunting him with the loudness of her impending death rattle. A smart person would negotiate for her life, tell him that she could take him to buried treasure and lead him to a camp full of angry highwaymen instead. A prideful person would have told him to take his pity and go fuck himself with it.
Aea’s hands shook as she raised them to her clothing. She pulled the knot holding the soft hide chalmys to her shoulders. It dropped to the floor. She reached behind her.
“No,” the man said. He looked purposefully at the place where her mouth should be. Aea shook her head. The man’s expression moved finally, from placid to the barest tilt of the upper lip. The most mild of sneers.
“Take it off, ball it up, and put it in your mouth.”
She didn’t know why she did not comply, she just knew that she could not let him see her face. If he saw it, she would lose the single strand of calm she still had. He would see...everything. And he would know. And he would kill her slower for it.
He moved so quickly, like a lightning strike. His blade swept away from her, his body towering over her. Her epiblema ripped from her, Aea flinched and tried covering her face on instinct. His fingers stabbed the cloth down her throat and she didn’t know why she did it, she didn’t know why she did anything. Her teeth sank into his digits and she locked her jaw so tightly that the coldness in his eyes melted against the hot fury erupting across his face. He bared his teeth in pain, choking back on whatever noise threatened to spill from him.
His other hand was suddenly in the air, and then it wasn't. There was pressure against her windpipe, tight and burning, but she did not let go. Her father’s grave voice overtook her thoughts. Pain is only weakness fleeing the flesh. The sharp twack of leather to bare skin. The loss of air. Don’t you dare fucking cry. Blood dropping like sweat where the tears rent the flesh. She couldn't breathe. If I see one fucking tear. A slap, a thwack, a crack of a sapling arm. If I see that fucking lip move. She could not breathe. I’ll fucking kill you. Clouds of hazy color swirled against the man’s twisted face. Her cheek throbbed. I’ll fucking kill you. She couldn’t feel her insides. I’ll fucking kill you. Don’t you fucking...dare. She was dying.
She tried calling out, but her voice was gone. Hektos was looming above her, the ceiling looming above him. His knuckles bled white in the blinding torchflame. Suspended sandstone. His black eyes sucked out all the color in the room, his teeth gnashing and gleaming with angry drool. Aea reached up. She tasted blood. It always smelled like oranges to her. It clogged her throat like barely cooked venison, moving up and down, unsure of whether to fall in or fly out. I did good. I didn’t cry. Fat black tendrils curling like smoke wafted over her eyes and ate the room. I didn’t cry.
And then, nothing.
***
She was dead. For minutes or eons, she didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. Death was pitch black, blacker than unexistence. Then, there was a light within the darkness. Now it was mortal-black, the black of a moonless midnight far from fire. She felt things. Pain. Thoughts with words and images. Memories. Her mouth was dry.
Consciousness came back to her little by little until she was fully aware that she was laying on a bed, her body naked, her eyes closed, her mouth gagged, her appendages strangled with rope, and impact injuries upon her face and neck. She knew that if she opened her eyes, she would wish she hadn’t, and so she didn’t. Not for a very long time.
She took stock of her pain. It was only above the collar, as far as she could tell. Her jaw hurt the worst, and the tangy taste of blood was everywhere. She bit down on the material stuffed in her mouth despite the clawing ache of her gums and tried to spit it out to no avail. It was tied tightly to her face. I’ll fucking kill you. She cracked her eyes open and held her breath. She had to look around, to understand what had just happened, and would happen soon.
Slowly, she sat up. Her gaze immediately landed upon an empty room. The man was gone. She looked down and pushed past the immediate upset of her stomach to look at herself as objectively as she could. The sheets beneath her were clean and she had no new bruises or scrapes. Her hands were tied in front of her, so she was able to run a hand along her skin to make absolutely sure she was not bleeding numbly from any unseen wounds. She didn’t understand. He didn’t kill her. He didn’t fuck her. He didn’t cut her open. Why was she naked, gagged, and tied up?
Simply thinking the words was enough to make the bile roar from her stomach to her sternum. She needed her clothes. Where were her clothes? Aea squirmed and wiggled across the sparse mattress until her feet touched the floor. When she stood, she looked frantically around the room. Where were her clothes? She needed her clothes. They weren’t under the bed. They weren’t under the blankets, and Gods damn the fucking rope, she needed to cut them.
Fuck. Fuck, nononono.
She did another sweep of the room. Her knives were gone. Her money—what little she had—vanished. She was stuck until Kaia...no. No, Kaia could not see her like this. That man, that piece of shit, had tricked her. He tricked her and took everything, and now the one person in the world that thought Aea was something more than what she was would see her. She would see what Aea had done. Fuck, she was so fucking stupid.
Why did she think that would work? She so fucking arrogant and vain and stupid that she honestly believed a man would pay a fucking drachme to fuck her. Her. A drachme. Kaia would laugh at her. Not aloud, but in her head. Then she would leave Aea behind. Not now, but later, because she would know, she would know Aea was a fuck up. A bad accident waiting to happen. A failure.
She lost money. They could have bought food with that. She trusted somebody she didn’t know, she’d put herself at his mercy on purpose. This was punishment. This was a lesson. This was deserved. What would her father say? He wouldn’t even be able to look at her.
Aea sunk to the floor, pressing her bare back against the bedpost and the wall. She pressed her nails against her temples and dragged them down her face. It burned, but not enough. She did it again. Her lip wobbled. Don’t you dare fucking cry. She did it again, harder this time. Her focus latched onto the burn, the discomfort. She anchored herself to the scratches blazing fire down her skin and squeezed her eyes closed until she willed away the tears. Nothing mattered but her nails dragging down her cheeks. Nothing mattered but the throb of her jaw. She didn’t know she was rocking back and forth until she started humming a rhythm. She didn’t know she was humming a song she knew until she muttered lyrics in something that was half song and half soothing memory. Aea kept her eyes closed and phantom ozone settled in her nostrils, the vague warmth of two long arms wrapped around her shoulders.
She kept rocking and humming until she heard footsteps. The man had asked for the furthest room, and she hadn’t questioned it before now. It had to be Kaia. Aea had been gone too long. She bolted to her feet without thinking and jumped on the bed, curling onto her side and closing her eyes as if she were asleep. It was so stupid. Childish. She didn’t care. The longer she could draw out having to answer for what had happened, the better.
The footsteps got closer and she inhaled deeply, trying to relax into a convincing faux sleep. She pretended she was wearing clothes because she didn’t want to almost cry again. The footsteps stopped outside of the door and Aea buried her face in the mattress, chocking on an aborted sob. The door groaned on its hinges. Kaia stopped at the threshold for a moment before she stepped inside and closed the door. Her footsteps were heavy. Slow. Dragging the ground from the ball as if her sandals were too large and unwieldy. Aea’s eyes snapped open and she held her breath. Kaia walked heel-toe. Kaia's shoes weren't ill-fitting.
Kaia did not have chains, but there was no mistaking the clink of iron rings.
The door creaked open, the groan of the hinges a nerve-wracking promise of what was to come. Aea slowly walked into the cramped room and kept her eyes riveted to the far wall. She held her chin up and her posture straight, faking her confidence until she felt just as able as she hopefully appeared.
The man's steps tapped softly into the room behind her and she stopped walking, her legs almost pressed to the plain mattress upon the rickety wooden frame. It was too warm in the room. She dared not say as much, nor did she dare look away from the wall in front of her. She swallowed. The man stepped closer, his footsteps getting minutely louder with each inch he advanced. When he moved close enough to reach out and stab her in the back, Aea held her breath and her muscles coiled.
He didn’t stab her, nor did he say anything. Neither did she. Her mind was spinning like a wagon wheel, though only the Gods had wagons that moved so fast as her thoughts. There were no words attached to them, only images. They jumped from what she knew of the actions she was to take, to the memory of seeing animals joining, to what might happen if she simply left right now.
“Do you want me to undress you?” The man’s voice was quiet.
Heat was slowly swallowing the skin of her face, ears, neck, and chest. Like a fever. She did not want him to touch her. She should leave. This had been a terrible idea. The worst idea Kaia had to date. Aea did not want to be here. She knew she should be, for if she ran before facing whatever mystery frightened her so, she would always be afraid. But she remembered her father’s words, over and over again throughout the years—if she joined with any man without his express permission and blessing, the Gods would curse her with child and that child would rip her open, just as she had ripped open her own faceless, nameless mother. If a man looked upon her, touched her, spoke to her without Hektos’ allowance, that man would scorn her, beat her, humiliate her, for men did not respect that which did not belong to them. That’s why Hektos treasured her so, because she belonged to him as all daughters belonged to their fathers. If she did not belong to him, he would have broken her for sport long ago.
Kaia had done things, though. She’d done them without Agolois or Hektos being any wiser. The Gods did not curse her with child, she did not get hurt, and she did not regret it. That's what she told herself again and again. She hated fear, hated it more than anything, but illogical fear was worse. Despite that, Aea did not feel right being here. It did not feel natural to be with this strange man in this alien place. She did not want to be here.
Her was body frozen save for her right hand, lifted evenly to her hips, her fingers curled in the air and frozen inches from a dagger.
“Here. Allow me.” The man took a step closer when Aea's non-answer left too much silence between them.
“I’ll do it.” Aea snapped. He stopped moving. She swallowed the excess saliva gathering in her mouth. He will not hurt you, stupid girl. But how could she be so sure when he was still armed?
She opened her mouth and almost insisted that he go first, but her words got caught in her throat. No. She inhaled them back in her lungs and told herself to stop being such a coward. But she wasn’t being a coward...she was being smart. It wasn’t wise to be naked in front of an armed stranger, no matter what the circumstance. But then, wouldn’t he feel just as vulnerable if he were naked and she was armed? Did he even know she was armed?
The man sighed behind her and she made her decision before she was consciously aware of it. Her hand grasped the familiar and worn handle of her left-most dagger and as she unsheathed it, she pivoted to face the man.
The sharp end of his sword hovered a few inches from her chest.
Her eyes widened and her mind slid to a place between confusion and nothingness. A numb sort of surprise that hadn't had a chance to morph into panic. Slowly, she looked up to his face. Her dagger was weightless in her hand. In place of the man's amicable, eager expression was a new coldness that she'd seen many times before. The eyes of a predator locked upon her, neither hungry not excited but resigned in its gluttonous nature.
"I don't usually make a sport of women, but I'll make an exception for you," the man said. His voice was even and modulated. His accent was gone.
He raised his foot to step closer and she couldn't move away. When it pressed noiselessly to the floor, she still could not move. Could not understand.
"Scream and I'll kill you," he said. The cold tip of his blade rested gently against her clavicle.
She wanted to speak. To scream. She'd never had the urge to scream before, not for something like this. The man was going to kill her regardless of whether she screamed or stayed quiet. She knew this game well, she'd just never been on the losing side before. Aea opened her mouth. Instinct, maybe, or stupidity. Either. Both.
The blade stung her flesh, pressing into it and parting it like cream. The pain was small, delayed, but it was there. A foreign object resting between beads of blood and layers of skin, threatening to spear through sinew and bone and vein if she dared. And so, for perhaps the first time in her life, staring up at this man from the end of his sword, she did not dare. As her mind reawakened and snarled for her to fucking move, her body did not—would not—comply.
“Drop your knife on the bed.”
She did.
“Take off your clothes.”
Her pride was gone. Here in this tiny room with this strange man, she did not have the stomach to be brave. There was nobody to impress, no standard to meet, no competition to be had. There was only predator and prey, life and death, and though she knew she would die tonight, she desperately did not want to. And she hated herself for it.
“Next time you decide to impersonate a whore, maybe pick a man who wasn’t talking exclusively to other men when shopping for one. Or perhaps consider not dressing like a prepubescent street urchin and wearing weapons where anybody could see them. Stupid girl. You’re lucky I took pity on you, and not someone else.”
A strong person would have knocked his sword aside. A fearless person would push against his blade and smile, daring him to press further, taunting him with the loudness of her impending death rattle. A smart person would negotiate for her life, tell him that she could take him to buried treasure and lead him to a camp full of angry highwaymen instead. A prideful person would have told him to take his pity and go fuck himself with it.
Aea’s hands shook as she raised them to her clothing. She pulled the knot holding the soft hide chalmys to her shoulders. It dropped to the floor. She reached behind her.
“No,” the man said. He looked purposefully at the place where her mouth should be. Aea shook her head. The man’s expression moved finally, from placid to the barest tilt of the upper lip. The most mild of sneers.
“Take it off, ball it up, and put it in your mouth.”
She didn’t know why she did not comply, she just knew that she could not let him see her face. If he saw it, she would lose the single strand of calm she still had. He would see...everything. And he would know. And he would kill her slower for it.
He moved so quickly, like a lightning strike. His blade swept away from her, his body towering over her. Her epiblema ripped from her, Aea flinched and tried covering her face on instinct. His fingers stabbed the cloth down her throat and she didn’t know why she did it, she didn’t know why she did anything. Her teeth sank into his digits and she locked her jaw so tightly that the coldness in his eyes melted against the hot fury erupting across his face. He bared his teeth in pain, choking back on whatever noise threatened to spill from him.
His other hand was suddenly in the air, and then it wasn't. There was pressure against her windpipe, tight and burning, but she did not let go. Her father’s grave voice overtook her thoughts. Pain is only weakness fleeing the flesh. The sharp twack of leather to bare skin. The loss of air. Don’t you dare fucking cry. Blood dropping like sweat where the tears rent the flesh. She couldn't breathe. If I see one fucking tear. A slap, a thwack, a crack of a sapling arm. If I see that fucking lip move. She could not breathe. I’ll fucking kill you. Clouds of hazy color swirled against the man’s twisted face. Her cheek throbbed. I’ll fucking kill you. She couldn’t feel her insides. I’ll fucking kill you. Don’t you fucking...dare. She was dying.
She tried calling out, but her voice was gone. Hektos was looming above her, the ceiling looming above him. His knuckles bled white in the blinding torchflame. Suspended sandstone. His black eyes sucked out all the color in the room, his teeth gnashing and gleaming with angry drool. Aea reached up. She tasted blood. It always smelled like oranges to her. It clogged her throat like barely cooked venison, moving up and down, unsure of whether to fall in or fly out. I did good. I didn’t cry. Fat black tendrils curling like smoke wafted over her eyes and ate the room. I didn’t cry.
And then, nothing.
***
She was dead. For minutes or eons, she didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. Death was pitch black, blacker than unexistence. Then, there was a light within the darkness. Now it was mortal-black, the black of a moonless midnight far from fire. She felt things. Pain. Thoughts with words and images. Memories. Her mouth was dry.
Consciousness came back to her little by little until she was fully aware that she was laying on a bed, her body naked, her eyes closed, her mouth gagged, her appendages strangled with rope, and impact injuries upon her face and neck. She knew that if she opened her eyes, she would wish she hadn’t, and so she didn’t. Not for a very long time.
She took stock of her pain. It was only above the collar, as far as she could tell. Her jaw hurt the worst, and the tangy taste of blood was everywhere. She bit down on the material stuffed in her mouth despite the clawing ache of her gums and tried to spit it out to no avail. It was tied tightly to her face. I’ll fucking kill you. She cracked her eyes open and held her breath. She had to look around, to understand what had just happened, and would happen soon.
Slowly, she sat up. Her gaze immediately landed upon an empty room. The man was gone. She looked down and pushed past the immediate upset of her stomach to look at herself as objectively as she could. The sheets beneath her were clean and she had no new bruises or scrapes. Her hands were tied in front of her, so she was able to run a hand along her skin to make absolutely sure she was not bleeding numbly from any unseen wounds. She didn’t understand. He didn’t kill her. He didn’t fuck her. He didn’t cut her open. Why was she naked, gagged, and tied up?
Simply thinking the words was enough to make the bile roar from her stomach to her sternum. She needed her clothes. Where were her clothes? Aea squirmed and wiggled across the sparse mattress until her feet touched the floor. When she stood, she looked frantically around the room. Where were her clothes? She needed her clothes. They weren’t under the bed. They weren’t under the blankets, and Gods damn the fucking rope, she needed to cut them.
Fuck. Fuck, nononono.
She did another sweep of the room. Her knives were gone. Her money—what little she had—vanished. She was stuck until Kaia...no. No, Kaia could not see her like this. That man, that piece of shit, had tricked her. He tricked her and took everything, and now the one person in the world that thought Aea was something more than what she was would see her. She would see what Aea had done. Fuck, she was so fucking stupid.
Why did she think that would work? She so fucking arrogant and vain and stupid that she honestly believed a man would pay a fucking drachme to fuck her. Her. A drachme. Kaia would laugh at her. Not aloud, but in her head. Then she would leave Aea behind. Not now, but later, because she would know, she would know Aea was a fuck up. A bad accident waiting to happen. A failure.
She lost money. They could have bought food with that. She trusted somebody she didn’t know, she’d put herself at his mercy on purpose. This was punishment. This was a lesson. This was deserved. What would her father say? He wouldn’t even be able to look at her.
Aea sunk to the floor, pressing her bare back against the bedpost and the wall. She pressed her nails against her temples and dragged them down her face. It burned, but not enough. She did it again. Her lip wobbled. Don’t you dare fucking cry. She did it again, harder this time. Her focus latched onto the burn, the discomfort. She anchored herself to the scratches blazing fire down her skin and squeezed her eyes closed until she willed away the tears. Nothing mattered but her nails dragging down her cheeks. Nothing mattered but the throb of her jaw. She didn’t know she was rocking back and forth until she started humming a rhythm. She didn’t know she was humming a song she knew until she muttered lyrics in something that was half song and half soothing memory. Aea kept her eyes closed and phantom ozone settled in her nostrils, the vague warmth of two long arms wrapped around her shoulders.
She kept rocking and humming until she heard footsteps. The man had asked for the furthest room, and she hadn’t questioned it before now. It had to be Kaia. Aea had been gone too long. She bolted to her feet without thinking and jumped on the bed, curling onto her side and closing her eyes as if she were asleep. It was so stupid. Childish. She didn’t care. The longer she could draw out having to answer for what had happened, the better.
The footsteps got closer and she inhaled deeply, trying to relax into a convincing faux sleep. She pretended she was wearing clothes because she didn’t want to almost cry again. The footsteps stopped outside of the door and Aea buried her face in the mattress, chocking on an aborted sob. The door groaned on its hinges. Kaia stopped at the threshold for a moment before she stepped inside and closed the door. Her footsteps were heavy. Slow. Dragging the ground from the ball as if her sandals were too large and unwieldy. Aea’s eyes snapped open and she held her breath. Kaia walked heel-toe. Kaia's shoes weren't ill-fitting.
Kaia did not have chains, but there was no mistaking the clink of iron rings.
Kaia followed Aea and the target into the tavern and took stock of her surroundings. Most of the patrons were men, though some women weaved through the drunken folk, tending to their requests. Kaia noted how many men carried swords on their hips, as well as which patrons seemed to be alone and which were in groups. In all honesty, Kaia wasn’t expecting any real trouble. People went to taverns to drink, it wasn’t like she was in some scandalous venue, shunned by all society. At most maybe a few drunks would have a scuffle. Kaia would keep out of the way and stay close for Aea, and then they would be on their way to spend that drachme.
Hanging back to avoid spooking the man, Kaia watched as he and Aea made for the farthest room in the tavern. The man was behind Aea and briefly looked towards two other men who nodded, before continuing on towards the room. Kaia flicked her gaze towards the two non-descript men. Neither had a drink in their hand, nor did they seem particularly festive. They weren’t dressed like the man Aea was to bed, so she was a little stumped on how or why they had any reason to interact.
Then again, Kaia had to consider that she was over analyzing the situation. Not everyone saw the world as she and her family did, so perhaps the silent exchange was simply mutual acknowledgement or a simple courtesy. Not everyone assumed the worst of others, or so Kaia needed to remind herself at times. The best way to blend in and appear non-threatening was to relate to that blind sense of trust and social expectation—or at least understand it well enough to expect it from others, at least until she could emulate that level of delicious vulnerability. Until then though, Kaia needed to remain alert and suspicious of anyone that wasn’t herself or her family, while remaining the image of non-threatening innocence. The best way she could achieve that, was by staying out of everyone else’s way.
Not wanting to spend any of the money without Aea, Kaia simply sat down on a plain stool in the corner. She was relatively out of everyone else’s way, but still had a good vantage point of the path that led to Aea’s room. Unless there was an entrance out the back—which Aea likely wouldn’t use, knowing Kaia was in the main part of the tavern—Kaia would see the man and Aea once they came back out.
Oh if Hektos only knew what they were doing. He would likely skin Kaia alive for suggesting the idea to Aea in the first place. Agolois would be disappointed in her. Kaia wondered if he’d still try to defend her, or if even he would feel the punishment was deserved. As far as Kaia was concerned though, remaining pure was really only a concern if her or Aea had any intentions of marrying. Since marriage was not a high ranking priority for either of them, Kaia was inclined to think that they had the most say over who could have access to their bodies, when and for what purpose. That was what attracted Kaia to womanhood most; the ability to call the shots for her own body. Her virtue could no longer be taken from her, nor could she be sold for it if times became tough for her uncles. Of course that would mean letting them discover the truth, but the fact remained. Agolois, Hektos and the others would be mad, but if the situation presented itself where Kaia would need to tell them about her endeavours, then Kaia highly doubted their frustrations would be at the forefront of her mind.
Kaia fiddled with the frayed hem of her Chalmys absently as she wondered how Aea was fairing. Neither she nor the man had come running out of the room in a panic, so that had to be a good sign. Kaia hoped Aea had relaxed enough to allow herself to enjoy it. The initial pain was worse than Kaia had expected, but subsided after a while, especially once Kaia began to relax. She could only imagine how much worse it could have been if she’d been tense the entire time.
A sudden roar of laughter snapped Kaia out of her thoughts. Turning to face the source of the noise, stormy blue eyes fell onto a rather inebriated man leaning against the wall. The woman who was hurting away looked flushed but otherwise grim faced as she returned to the safety behind the smooth counter.
Another man approached the drunk and started talking pointedly to him, though Kaia couldn’t hear what words were being exchanged. Kaia was just about to lose interest, when the second man shoved the first as he was handling his coins. Round copper discs fell to the ground, though the owner seemed too fixated on his apparent foe to pay his fallen coin much notice.
Like a few others in the tavern, Kaia took the opportunity and sprang down off her stool and scrambled for the closest coin. Her fingers closed around a single piece and although Kaia was tempted by more, she decided to cut her losses. It was bad enough that she was not only on the ground, but had her back unprotected. She knew that logically, she was unlikely to be attacked right there in the middle of the tavern, but the lack of security was already making her feel flighty. Kaia stuffed the owl down her front as she clambered back to her feet. Kaia was in the middle of brushing herself off when she felt the point of a blade against the middle of her back. Kaia froze, her jaw clenched. It seemed she had every right to be paranoid, and as a cruel twist of irony, not paranoid enough.
“Don’t scream,” the harsh, coarse voice behind her hissed. Kaia swallowed hard and glanced around the tavern. No one was paying her or her assailant any attention, so the weapon held on her must have been well concealed.
“Move. Outside.”
Kaia’s fingers twitched as she longed to reach for her dagger. Not knowing who her attacker was, or what he wanted left Kaia at a disadvantage, as she was unable to gauge just how likely he was to follow through with the threat if she reached for her own weapon. Then again, would he really stab her in front of all the patrons? Would that not cause him new problems? So perhaps it was the safest time to arm herself.
Then again, Kaia was not willing to risk it. SHe could feel how sharp the tip of the blade was even through the numerous layers of fabric. If her attacker was serious about hurting her for lack of compliance, he’d cut her spinal cord well before she could hope to defend herself. Since she wasn’t willing to take that risk, then she would need to leave the safety of numbers and hope to find a chance to create some space between her and the blade once outside.
“Now!” The man spat viciously, giving her a sharp prod with the tip of the blade in warning. Kaia exhaled slowly and started moving towards the portal outside. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she tried to find anything close enough that might show a reflection of her and her attacker as they passed, but she had no such luck.
Only mere steps away from being outside and alone with her attacker, Kaia tried to come up with a plan. She didn’t know anyone in the city, so whoever was at her back didn’t have a personal vendetta against her, or at least it was highly unlikely. She wasn’t well dressed, nor did she have a drink in her hand, so if the man had hopes of robbing her, he’d chosen a pretty poor target. Kaia wouldn’t have picked herself. So if not revenge and not money, then the only other reason Kaia could think was that the man hoped to slake more carnal urges.
A spasm of panic shot through her, threatening to cloud her judgement. Kaia swallowed again and held her breath in an attempt to keep herself calm. Panicking wouldn’t help her, she needed to stay focused. She couldn’t afford to lose her head now if she had any hopes to escape unscathed.
Think.
As she stepped back out into the brisk night, Kaia sucked in a slow breath of air and tried to think on the situation as if she were the attacker. She had the benefit of understanding what it was like to hold another at her own mercy and she very much doubted the man at her back knew that. Her motivation for attacking people was always to take their money, belongings or sometimes food, but still, she understood that drive. She remembered how nervous she was the first time she drew her blade on someone. She’d been a few summers younger and the whole time, she half expected to be wrenched away and executed right then and there. The urge to turn back and abandon her objective had been so strong, though she followed through. After that, it just became easier and easier, until exhilaration replaced any trace or anxiety.
The man behind Kaia had not sounded even remotely nervous. The blade at her back was stable and his breathing was calm and even. He was comfortable with his role then.
“That way,” the man hissed, nudging her towards a dark street adjacent to the tavern.
Kaia obeyed and made for the shadows of the street, forcing herself not to panic. Once in the shadows, she could try to step away and fight him, however he had the advantage already. Any attempt to meet him on even footing would give her away. It seemed Kaia’s best—or perhaps only—option was to act. Kaia was usually the damsel when she and Aea went off on her own. Although she didn’t love it, she couldn’t deny it was effective. If the brute behind her thought to overpower her and find release, then he’d likely expect her to be afraid. The more helpless and afraid she seemed, the less he’d expect her to be capable of defending herself.
Kaia let herself begin to breathe more quickly and loudly as the shadows enveloped them. Her eyes were still adjusting, but as far as Kaia could tell, they were alone.
“Please, what is it you want?” Kaia sobbed. She even attempted to make her voice waver slightly.
The man remained silent and nudged her forward with his hand, momentarily pushing her far enough ahead to not feel the blade. Good. Kaia gave a whimper and stumbled forwards.
“Is it money you’re after? You can take it all, just let me—” Kaia blurted pleadingly, until she was interrupted by a quick smack on the back of her head.
“Shut up and keep moving,” the man snarled, nudging her forward again. Kaia gave a stifled sob as she slipped her hand up under her chalmys. Relying on the darkness to hide her actions, Kaia worked her hand under the fabric and let her fingers close around the hilt of her dagger. Just the mere feeling of it was comforting in that moment, though she had no time to become distracted. Kaia carefully brought her dagger out and hid it by crossing her arms across her front in a show of fear.
Now all she needed was to get some distance between her at that blade. Gripping her dagger tight in her hand, Kaia stumbled and dropped down to her knees as if she tripped.
A hand buried into her hair quicker than she expected and yanked her back up onto her feet. Kaia sobbed as she winced at the pain, before pivoting as much as she could in order to slash down across the man’s arm. Kaia heard the welcoming sound of metal slicing through flesh and darted away as the man cried out and released her hair. Kaia skipped forward another step then whirled around, feeling the whoosh as the man’s blade slicing out towards her and only narrowly missing. Kaia squared her footing and took stock of her attacker, her dagger hand poised and ready. It was then that Kaia realised the man was familiar, which made her feel foolish for not realising who her attacker was earlier. She’d seen him standing in the tavern with another man, just as Aea and her target were making their way to their room.
Well, Kaia wasn’t sure what the group of men were playing at, but she now knew that there was at least one other guy unaccounted for. Kaia hoped Aea had everything under control on her end. Kaia hoped that Aea’s target was unaware of what the other two were planning, but she knew she’d be a fool to assume his innocence considering the predicament she was currently in.
Kaia kept her eyes focused on her attacker. He was maybe a few winters younger than her father, but certainly not as tall or broad. His hairline was receding, and his cheeks gaunt. Kaia was willing to bet he wasn’t as strong as her father or uncles either. Perhaps she could take him if he lunged at her, especially since he seemed to be favouring his wounded arm. If she were him, she would have swapped her dagger to her left hand if her wound was giving her so much grief.
The man seemed to decide on his course of action, his expression hardening before he took a step forward, bringing his arm up. Without hesitation, Kaia stepped forward and grabbed his wrist with her free hand to block him. Trying to take advantage of the situation, Kaia made a slash at his belly, but he blocked her wrist, putting them both at an impasse.
Noticing that he was quite focused on her dagger, Kaia pushed against his wrist, trying to push his weapon further away from her. To her surprise though, he was stronger than he looked and seemed to realise it too. Kaia felt a spark of panic as he put more effort into trying to bring the blade down towards her. She was going to wear that blade in her neck or shoulder if she didn’t think of anything soon.
In an attempt to distract him, Kaia tried to rip her dagger hand free, drawing his eyes back down to her blade. In that moment, Kaia let go of his wrist and stepped back, letting the full force of his strength drive his dagger straight into his thigh. As he screamed, grabbed hold of the front of his tunic, then shoved him to the ground. In his panic, the man’s legs flailed out and tangled with her own. Kaia tried to correct herself, but only seemed to further worsen the situation. She was going to fall, so the best she could do was fall to the side instead of on top of him. She was not going to die by falling on her weakened enemy’s blade by accident.
As Kaia hit the ground, she scrambled to get her legs free from his and picked her dagger back up, just in time to see him shuffling back and away from her, the blade still stuck in his leg.
Kaia made a move towards him, dodging his clumsy kicks. Kaia squatted over him and held her blade to his throat. The man went still, save for the stiled grunts of pain. Kaia could see the anger and humiliation in his eyes and did not feel even remotely sorry for him.
“Why did you attack me?” Kaia asked, her eyes fixed on him, though she was listening out for the sound of the other man she’d seen in the tavern.
Kaia tilted her head to the side slightly and pressed the edge of the blade a little harder against his skin. If she pushed much harder, it would cut him.
“You were alone,” he muttered finally.
“Hmm,” Kaia murmured. “You weren’t alone. Where’s your friend?” Kaia added, trying to figure out what sort of situation she and Aea had stumbled upon.
“I don’t know.”
Kaia sighed. “I could kill you. I’ve done it before,” Kaia murmured, pressing the blade just that little bit harder against his throat until she saw the bead of blood blooming on the dagger.
“I swear, I don’t know!” he panicked. “Please, I’m sorry, please!”
It was tempting; Kaia wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to attack her again later if she killed him now. Then at the same time, she’d have to make sure she discarded any clothing soaked in his blood if she killed him. That would be harder to explain to her family the next day.
“Do you have any money?” Kaia asked calmly.
“Just a few owls.”
“Give them to me,” Kaia demanded. The man closed his eyes and reached into the folds of his clothes. Kaia kept her gaze fixed on his expression as she waited for him to pull out his coin.
Instead, he brought his arms up in front of him and pushed Kaia back, making her lose her balance and fall back on her ass. Kaia quickly tried to sit back up, but left herself open. As she registered the closed fist hurtling towards her face, it was too late to stop it. All she could do was bring her shoulders up and hope to deflect some of the blow.
His fist collided with the side of her face and knocked her to the side. Kaia tried to ignore the blow and turned in time to see him beginning to stand back up. Glowering at her attacker, Kaia darted forward and grabbed hold of the dagger in his leg and twisted it as hard and quickly as she could.
The scream that tore out of him was that of pure agony. Kaia wrenched the dagger out, then scrambled to her feet as the man fell back to the ground, his hands black with his blood. As he whimpered, Kaia kicked him in the head and only relaxed once he slumped over, unconscious. Hopefully he wouldn’t bleed out, but really, if he died after she left, that was his problem.
Just in case though, Kaia reluctantly set his dagger back in his hand. If he did die, she hoped it looked like he’d stabbed himself—which he had.
Checking that she hadn’t been seen, Kaia took a deep breath, then turned back around. She could still hear the muffled sounds of people enjoying themselves within the tavern. Kaia just hoped Aea was alright.
Kaia hid her dagger under her crossed arms as she approached the tavern entrance, though she paused as Aea’s target stumbled out, clutching his hand. If Kaia had seen correctly, it looked like he was bleeding. Fear shot through Kaia at the thought of Aea being hurt, though Kaia reminded herself that fear would do her no good. So, she channeled that fear into anger. She wanted to follow after the man and slit his throat, but she needed to make sure Aea was okay. She hoped Aea had just sent him on his way and was waiting in the tavern for Kaia, but the dread in the pit of Kaia’s stomach made her uneasy.
Begrudgingly, she let the man pass without assault. Once he was clear, Kaia crept out of the shadows, then back into the tavern. Keeping her head low, Kaia moved around the boisterous patrons and made straight for Aea’s room. Gripping the hilt of her dagger tight, Kaia burst through the doorway.
She had been right to be worried about Aea. The first thing Kaia saw was the back of the second man—her attacker’s accomplice—in front of her, chains in hand. The next thing she noticed was her cousin tied up, naked.
If Kaia had any shred of fear left, it was certainly gone now. Seething anger bubbled through her as she come to understand the scene before her. Aea had been hurt and humiliated, and this man was going to pay for it.
Kaia sprang forward and from behind, brought the edge of her dagger up against his adam’s apple, “drop the chains.”
“You’re making a mistake, girl,” the guy muttered, though Kaia could feel his body was rigid and tense.
“I’ve already dealt with your friend,” Kaia hissed into his ear, pressing the blade harder against his throat. “Slitting your throat would be too kind. I should cut you open and let you taste your own insides before you die.”
No response. Kaia smirked slightly at that. He was afraid of her then.
“Drop the chains.”
This time, he did.
“Give me a reason not to spill your blood for what has happened here,” Kaia dared the man quietly. Kaia had to stay angry at the filth under her knife, because if she wasn’t angry, then she would be overcome with crippling guilt at throwing Aea into such a situation. It was Kaia’s fault and she knew it, she just couldn’t handle accepting it just yet.
Lani
Kaia
Lani
Kaia
Awards
First Impressions:Lean, athletic; Straw-blonde hair, stormy blue eyes, and a nearly permanent scowl.
Address: Your
Kaia followed Aea and the target into the tavern and took stock of her surroundings. Most of the patrons were men, though some women weaved through the drunken folk, tending to their requests. Kaia noted how many men carried swords on their hips, as well as which patrons seemed to be alone and which were in groups. In all honesty, Kaia wasn’t expecting any real trouble. People went to taverns to drink, it wasn’t like she was in some scandalous venue, shunned by all society. At most maybe a few drunks would have a scuffle. Kaia would keep out of the way and stay close for Aea, and then they would be on their way to spend that drachme.
Hanging back to avoid spooking the man, Kaia watched as he and Aea made for the farthest room in the tavern. The man was behind Aea and briefly looked towards two other men who nodded, before continuing on towards the room. Kaia flicked her gaze towards the two non-descript men. Neither had a drink in their hand, nor did they seem particularly festive. They weren’t dressed like the man Aea was to bed, so she was a little stumped on how or why they had any reason to interact.
Then again, Kaia had to consider that she was over analyzing the situation. Not everyone saw the world as she and her family did, so perhaps the silent exchange was simply mutual acknowledgement or a simple courtesy. Not everyone assumed the worst of others, or so Kaia needed to remind herself at times. The best way to blend in and appear non-threatening was to relate to that blind sense of trust and social expectation—or at least understand it well enough to expect it from others, at least until she could emulate that level of delicious vulnerability. Until then though, Kaia needed to remain alert and suspicious of anyone that wasn’t herself or her family, while remaining the image of non-threatening innocence. The best way she could achieve that, was by staying out of everyone else’s way.
Not wanting to spend any of the money without Aea, Kaia simply sat down on a plain stool in the corner. She was relatively out of everyone else’s way, but still had a good vantage point of the path that led to Aea’s room. Unless there was an entrance out the back—which Aea likely wouldn’t use, knowing Kaia was in the main part of the tavern—Kaia would see the man and Aea once they came back out.
Oh if Hektos only knew what they were doing. He would likely skin Kaia alive for suggesting the idea to Aea in the first place. Agolois would be disappointed in her. Kaia wondered if he’d still try to defend her, or if even he would feel the punishment was deserved. As far as Kaia was concerned though, remaining pure was really only a concern if her or Aea had any intentions of marrying. Since marriage was not a high ranking priority for either of them, Kaia was inclined to think that they had the most say over who could have access to their bodies, when and for what purpose. That was what attracted Kaia to womanhood most; the ability to call the shots for her own body. Her virtue could no longer be taken from her, nor could she be sold for it if times became tough for her uncles. Of course that would mean letting them discover the truth, but the fact remained. Agolois, Hektos and the others would be mad, but if the situation presented itself where Kaia would need to tell them about her endeavours, then Kaia highly doubted their frustrations would be at the forefront of her mind.
Kaia fiddled with the frayed hem of her Chalmys absently as she wondered how Aea was fairing. Neither she nor the man had come running out of the room in a panic, so that had to be a good sign. Kaia hoped Aea had relaxed enough to allow herself to enjoy it. The initial pain was worse than Kaia had expected, but subsided after a while, especially once Kaia began to relax. She could only imagine how much worse it could have been if she’d been tense the entire time.
A sudden roar of laughter snapped Kaia out of her thoughts. Turning to face the source of the noise, stormy blue eyes fell onto a rather inebriated man leaning against the wall. The woman who was hurting away looked flushed but otherwise grim faced as she returned to the safety behind the smooth counter.
Another man approached the drunk and started talking pointedly to him, though Kaia couldn’t hear what words were being exchanged. Kaia was just about to lose interest, when the second man shoved the first as he was handling his coins. Round copper discs fell to the ground, though the owner seemed too fixated on his apparent foe to pay his fallen coin much notice.
Like a few others in the tavern, Kaia took the opportunity and sprang down off her stool and scrambled for the closest coin. Her fingers closed around a single piece and although Kaia was tempted by more, she decided to cut her losses. It was bad enough that she was not only on the ground, but had her back unprotected. She knew that logically, she was unlikely to be attacked right there in the middle of the tavern, but the lack of security was already making her feel flighty. Kaia stuffed the owl down her front as she clambered back to her feet. Kaia was in the middle of brushing herself off when she felt the point of a blade against the middle of her back. Kaia froze, her jaw clenched. It seemed she had every right to be paranoid, and as a cruel twist of irony, not paranoid enough.
“Don’t scream,” the harsh, coarse voice behind her hissed. Kaia swallowed hard and glanced around the tavern. No one was paying her or her assailant any attention, so the weapon held on her must have been well concealed.
“Move. Outside.”
Kaia’s fingers twitched as she longed to reach for her dagger. Not knowing who her attacker was, or what he wanted left Kaia at a disadvantage, as she was unable to gauge just how likely he was to follow through with the threat if she reached for her own weapon. Then again, would he really stab her in front of all the patrons? Would that not cause him new problems? So perhaps it was the safest time to arm herself.
Then again, Kaia was not willing to risk it. SHe could feel how sharp the tip of the blade was even through the numerous layers of fabric. If her attacker was serious about hurting her for lack of compliance, he’d cut her spinal cord well before she could hope to defend herself. Since she wasn’t willing to take that risk, then she would need to leave the safety of numbers and hope to find a chance to create some space between her and the blade once outside.
“Now!” The man spat viciously, giving her a sharp prod with the tip of the blade in warning. Kaia exhaled slowly and started moving towards the portal outside. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she tried to find anything close enough that might show a reflection of her and her attacker as they passed, but she had no such luck.
Only mere steps away from being outside and alone with her attacker, Kaia tried to come up with a plan. She didn’t know anyone in the city, so whoever was at her back didn’t have a personal vendetta against her, or at least it was highly unlikely. She wasn’t well dressed, nor did she have a drink in her hand, so if the man had hopes of robbing her, he’d chosen a pretty poor target. Kaia wouldn’t have picked herself. So if not revenge and not money, then the only other reason Kaia could think was that the man hoped to slake more carnal urges.
A spasm of panic shot through her, threatening to cloud her judgement. Kaia swallowed again and held her breath in an attempt to keep herself calm. Panicking wouldn’t help her, she needed to stay focused. She couldn’t afford to lose her head now if she had any hopes to escape unscathed.
Think.
As she stepped back out into the brisk night, Kaia sucked in a slow breath of air and tried to think on the situation as if she were the attacker. She had the benefit of understanding what it was like to hold another at her own mercy and she very much doubted the man at her back knew that. Her motivation for attacking people was always to take their money, belongings or sometimes food, but still, she understood that drive. She remembered how nervous she was the first time she drew her blade on someone. She’d been a few summers younger and the whole time, she half expected to be wrenched away and executed right then and there. The urge to turn back and abandon her objective had been so strong, though she followed through. After that, it just became easier and easier, until exhilaration replaced any trace or anxiety.
The man behind Kaia had not sounded even remotely nervous. The blade at her back was stable and his breathing was calm and even. He was comfortable with his role then.
“That way,” the man hissed, nudging her towards a dark street adjacent to the tavern.
Kaia obeyed and made for the shadows of the street, forcing herself not to panic. Once in the shadows, she could try to step away and fight him, however he had the advantage already. Any attempt to meet him on even footing would give her away. It seemed Kaia’s best—or perhaps only—option was to act. Kaia was usually the damsel when she and Aea went off on her own. Although she didn’t love it, she couldn’t deny it was effective. If the brute behind her thought to overpower her and find release, then he’d likely expect her to be afraid. The more helpless and afraid she seemed, the less he’d expect her to be capable of defending herself.
Kaia let herself begin to breathe more quickly and loudly as the shadows enveloped them. Her eyes were still adjusting, but as far as Kaia could tell, they were alone.
“Please, what is it you want?” Kaia sobbed. She even attempted to make her voice waver slightly.
The man remained silent and nudged her forward with his hand, momentarily pushing her far enough ahead to not feel the blade. Good. Kaia gave a whimper and stumbled forwards.
“Is it money you’re after? You can take it all, just let me—” Kaia blurted pleadingly, until she was interrupted by a quick smack on the back of her head.
“Shut up and keep moving,” the man snarled, nudging her forward again. Kaia gave a stifled sob as she slipped her hand up under her chalmys. Relying on the darkness to hide her actions, Kaia worked her hand under the fabric and let her fingers close around the hilt of her dagger. Just the mere feeling of it was comforting in that moment, though she had no time to become distracted. Kaia carefully brought her dagger out and hid it by crossing her arms across her front in a show of fear.
Now all she needed was to get some distance between her at that blade. Gripping her dagger tight in her hand, Kaia stumbled and dropped down to her knees as if she tripped.
A hand buried into her hair quicker than she expected and yanked her back up onto her feet. Kaia sobbed as she winced at the pain, before pivoting as much as she could in order to slash down across the man’s arm. Kaia heard the welcoming sound of metal slicing through flesh and darted away as the man cried out and released her hair. Kaia skipped forward another step then whirled around, feeling the whoosh as the man’s blade slicing out towards her and only narrowly missing. Kaia squared her footing and took stock of her attacker, her dagger hand poised and ready. It was then that Kaia realised the man was familiar, which made her feel foolish for not realising who her attacker was earlier. She’d seen him standing in the tavern with another man, just as Aea and her target were making their way to their room.
Well, Kaia wasn’t sure what the group of men were playing at, but she now knew that there was at least one other guy unaccounted for. Kaia hoped Aea had everything under control on her end. Kaia hoped that Aea’s target was unaware of what the other two were planning, but she knew she’d be a fool to assume his innocence considering the predicament she was currently in.
Kaia kept her eyes focused on her attacker. He was maybe a few winters younger than her father, but certainly not as tall or broad. His hairline was receding, and his cheeks gaunt. Kaia was willing to bet he wasn’t as strong as her father or uncles either. Perhaps she could take him if he lunged at her, especially since he seemed to be favouring his wounded arm. If she were him, she would have swapped her dagger to her left hand if her wound was giving her so much grief.
The man seemed to decide on his course of action, his expression hardening before he took a step forward, bringing his arm up. Without hesitation, Kaia stepped forward and grabbed his wrist with her free hand to block him. Trying to take advantage of the situation, Kaia made a slash at his belly, but he blocked her wrist, putting them both at an impasse.
Noticing that he was quite focused on her dagger, Kaia pushed against his wrist, trying to push his weapon further away from her. To her surprise though, he was stronger than he looked and seemed to realise it too. Kaia felt a spark of panic as he put more effort into trying to bring the blade down towards her. She was going to wear that blade in her neck or shoulder if she didn’t think of anything soon.
In an attempt to distract him, Kaia tried to rip her dagger hand free, drawing his eyes back down to her blade. In that moment, Kaia let go of his wrist and stepped back, letting the full force of his strength drive his dagger straight into his thigh. As he screamed, grabbed hold of the front of his tunic, then shoved him to the ground. In his panic, the man’s legs flailed out and tangled with her own. Kaia tried to correct herself, but only seemed to further worsen the situation. She was going to fall, so the best she could do was fall to the side instead of on top of him. She was not going to die by falling on her weakened enemy’s blade by accident.
As Kaia hit the ground, she scrambled to get her legs free from his and picked her dagger back up, just in time to see him shuffling back and away from her, the blade still stuck in his leg.
Kaia made a move towards him, dodging his clumsy kicks. Kaia squatted over him and held her blade to his throat. The man went still, save for the stiled grunts of pain. Kaia could see the anger and humiliation in his eyes and did not feel even remotely sorry for him.
“Why did you attack me?” Kaia asked, her eyes fixed on him, though she was listening out for the sound of the other man she’d seen in the tavern.
Kaia tilted her head to the side slightly and pressed the edge of the blade a little harder against his skin. If she pushed much harder, it would cut him.
“You were alone,” he muttered finally.
“Hmm,” Kaia murmured. “You weren’t alone. Where’s your friend?” Kaia added, trying to figure out what sort of situation she and Aea had stumbled upon.
“I don’t know.”
Kaia sighed. “I could kill you. I’ve done it before,” Kaia murmured, pressing the blade just that little bit harder against his throat until she saw the bead of blood blooming on the dagger.
“I swear, I don’t know!” he panicked. “Please, I’m sorry, please!”
It was tempting; Kaia wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to attack her again later if she killed him now. Then at the same time, she’d have to make sure she discarded any clothing soaked in his blood if she killed him. That would be harder to explain to her family the next day.
“Do you have any money?” Kaia asked calmly.
“Just a few owls.”
“Give them to me,” Kaia demanded. The man closed his eyes and reached into the folds of his clothes. Kaia kept her gaze fixed on his expression as she waited for him to pull out his coin.
Instead, he brought his arms up in front of him and pushed Kaia back, making her lose her balance and fall back on her ass. Kaia quickly tried to sit back up, but left herself open. As she registered the closed fist hurtling towards her face, it was too late to stop it. All she could do was bring her shoulders up and hope to deflect some of the blow.
His fist collided with the side of her face and knocked her to the side. Kaia tried to ignore the blow and turned in time to see him beginning to stand back up. Glowering at her attacker, Kaia darted forward and grabbed hold of the dagger in his leg and twisted it as hard and quickly as she could.
The scream that tore out of him was that of pure agony. Kaia wrenched the dagger out, then scrambled to her feet as the man fell back to the ground, his hands black with his blood. As he whimpered, Kaia kicked him in the head and only relaxed once he slumped over, unconscious. Hopefully he wouldn’t bleed out, but really, if he died after she left, that was his problem.
Just in case though, Kaia reluctantly set his dagger back in his hand. If he did die, she hoped it looked like he’d stabbed himself—which he had.
Checking that she hadn’t been seen, Kaia took a deep breath, then turned back around. She could still hear the muffled sounds of people enjoying themselves within the tavern. Kaia just hoped Aea was alright.
Kaia hid her dagger under her crossed arms as she approached the tavern entrance, though she paused as Aea’s target stumbled out, clutching his hand. If Kaia had seen correctly, it looked like he was bleeding. Fear shot through Kaia at the thought of Aea being hurt, though Kaia reminded herself that fear would do her no good. So, she channeled that fear into anger. She wanted to follow after the man and slit his throat, but she needed to make sure Aea was okay. She hoped Aea had just sent him on his way and was waiting in the tavern for Kaia, but the dread in the pit of Kaia’s stomach made her uneasy.
Begrudgingly, she let the man pass without assault. Once he was clear, Kaia crept out of the shadows, then back into the tavern. Keeping her head low, Kaia moved around the boisterous patrons and made straight for Aea’s room. Gripping the hilt of her dagger tight, Kaia burst through the doorway.
She had been right to be worried about Aea. The first thing Kaia saw was the back of the second man—her attacker’s accomplice—in front of her, chains in hand. The next thing she noticed was her cousin tied up, naked.
If Kaia had any shred of fear left, it was certainly gone now. Seething anger bubbled through her as she come to understand the scene before her. Aea had been hurt and humiliated, and this man was going to pay for it.
Kaia sprang forward and from behind, brought the edge of her dagger up against his adam’s apple, “drop the chains.”
“You’re making a mistake, girl,” the guy muttered, though Kaia could feel his body was rigid and tense.
“I’ve already dealt with your friend,” Kaia hissed into his ear, pressing the blade harder against his throat. “Slitting your throat would be too kind. I should cut you open and let you taste your own insides before you die.”
No response. Kaia smirked slightly at that. He was afraid of her then.
“Drop the chains.”
This time, he did.
“Give me a reason not to spill your blood for what has happened here,” Kaia dared the man quietly. Kaia had to stay angry at the filth under her knife, because if she wasn’t angry, then she would be overcome with crippling guilt at throwing Aea into such a situation. It was Kaia’s fault and she knew it, she just couldn’t handle accepting it just yet.
Kaia followed Aea and the target into the tavern and took stock of her surroundings. Most of the patrons were men, though some women weaved through the drunken folk, tending to their requests. Kaia noted how many men carried swords on their hips, as well as which patrons seemed to be alone and which were in groups. In all honesty, Kaia wasn’t expecting any real trouble. People went to taverns to drink, it wasn’t like she was in some scandalous venue, shunned by all society. At most maybe a few drunks would have a scuffle. Kaia would keep out of the way and stay close for Aea, and then they would be on their way to spend that drachme.
Hanging back to avoid spooking the man, Kaia watched as he and Aea made for the farthest room in the tavern. The man was behind Aea and briefly looked towards two other men who nodded, before continuing on towards the room. Kaia flicked her gaze towards the two non-descript men. Neither had a drink in their hand, nor did they seem particularly festive. They weren’t dressed like the man Aea was to bed, so she was a little stumped on how or why they had any reason to interact.
Then again, Kaia had to consider that she was over analyzing the situation. Not everyone saw the world as she and her family did, so perhaps the silent exchange was simply mutual acknowledgement or a simple courtesy. Not everyone assumed the worst of others, or so Kaia needed to remind herself at times. The best way to blend in and appear non-threatening was to relate to that blind sense of trust and social expectation—or at least understand it well enough to expect it from others, at least until she could emulate that level of delicious vulnerability. Until then though, Kaia needed to remain alert and suspicious of anyone that wasn’t herself or her family, while remaining the image of non-threatening innocence. The best way she could achieve that, was by staying out of everyone else’s way.
Not wanting to spend any of the money without Aea, Kaia simply sat down on a plain stool in the corner. She was relatively out of everyone else’s way, but still had a good vantage point of the path that led to Aea’s room. Unless there was an entrance out the back—which Aea likely wouldn’t use, knowing Kaia was in the main part of the tavern—Kaia would see the man and Aea once they came back out.
Oh if Hektos only knew what they were doing. He would likely skin Kaia alive for suggesting the idea to Aea in the first place. Agolois would be disappointed in her. Kaia wondered if he’d still try to defend her, or if even he would feel the punishment was deserved. As far as Kaia was concerned though, remaining pure was really only a concern if her or Aea had any intentions of marrying. Since marriage was not a high ranking priority for either of them, Kaia was inclined to think that they had the most say over who could have access to their bodies, when and for what purpose. That was what attracted Kaia to womanhood most; the ability to call the shots for her own body. Her virtue could no longer be taken from her, nor could she be sold for it if times became tough for her uncles. Of course that would mean letting them discover the truth, but the fact remained. Agolois, Hektos and the others would be mad, but if the situation presented itself where Kaia would need to tell them about her endeavours, then Kaia highly doubted their frustrations would be at the forefront of her mind.
Kaia fiddled with the frayed hem of her Chalmys absently as she wondered how Aea was fairing. Neither she nor the man had come running out of the room in a panic, so that had to be a good sign. Kaia hoped Aea had relaxed enough to allow herself to enjoy it. The initial pain was worse than Kaia had expected, but subsided after a while, especially once Kaia began to relax. She could only imagine how much worse it could have been if she’d been tense the entire time.
A sudden roar of laughter snapped Kaia out of her thoughts. Turning to face the source of the noise, stormy blue eyes fell onto a rather inebriated man leaning against the wall. The woman who was hurting away looked flushed but otherwise grim faced as she returned to the safety behind the smooth counter.
Another man approached the drunk and started talking pointedly to him, though Kaia couldn’t hear what words were being exchanged. Kaia was just about to lose interest, when the second man shoved the first as he was handling his coins. Round copper discs fell to the ground, though the owner seemed too fixated on his apparent foe to pay his fallen coin much notice.
Like a few others in the tavern, Kaia took the opportunity and sprang down off her stool and scrambled for the closest coin. Her fingers closed around a single piece and although Kaia was tempted by more, she decided to cut her losses. It was bad enough that she was not only on the ground, but had her back unprotected. She knew that logically, she was unlikely to be attacked right there in the middle of the tavern, but the lack of security was already making her feel flighty. Kaia stuffed the owl down her front as she clambered back to her feet. Kaia was in the middle of brushing herself off when she felt the point of a blade against the middle of her back. Kaia froze, her jaw clenched. It seemed she had every right to be paranoid, and as a cruel twist of irony, not paranoid enough.
“Don’t scream,” the harsh, coarse voice behind her hissed. Kaia swallowed hard and glanced around the tavern. No one was paying her or her assailant any attention, so the weapon held on her must have been well concealed.
“Move. Outside.”
Kaia’s fingers twitched as she longed to reach for her dagger. Not knowing who her attacker was, or what he wanted left Kaia at a disadvantage, as she was unable to gauge just how likely he was to follow through with the threat if she reached for her own weapon. Then again, would he really stab her in front of all the patrons? Would that not cause him new problems? So perhaps it was the safest time to arm herself.
Then again, Kaia was not willing to risk it. SHe could feel how sharp the tip of the blade was even through the numerous layers of fabric. If her attacker was serious about hurting her for lack of compliance, he’d cut her spinal cord well before she could hope to defend herself. Since she wasn’t willing to take that risk, then she would need to leave the safety of numbers and hope to find a chance to create some space between her and the blade once outside.
“Now!” The man spat viciously, giving her a sharp prod with the tip of the blade in warning. Kaia exhaled slowly and started moving towards the portal outside. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she tried to find anything close enough that might show a reflection of her and her attacker as they passed, but she had no such luck.
Only mere steps away from being outside and alone with her attacker, Kaia tried to come up with a plan. She didn’t know anyone in the city, so whoever was at her back didn’t have a personal vendetta against her, or at least it was highly unlikely. She wasn’t well dressed, nor did she have a drink in her hand, so if the man had hopes of robbing her, he’d chosen a pretty poor target. Kaia wouldn’t have picked herself. So if not revenge and not money, then the only other reason Kaia could think was that the man hoped to slake more carnal urges.
A spasm of panic shot through her, threatening to cloud her judgement. Kaia swallowed again and held her breath in an attempt to keep herself calm. Panicking wouldn’t help her, she needed to stay focused. She couldn’t afford to lose her head now if she had any hopes to escape unscathed.
Think.
As she stepped back out into the brisk night, Kaia sucked in a slow breath of air and tried to think on the situation as if she were the attacker. She had the benefit of understanding what it was like to hold another at her own mercy and she very much doubted the man at her back knew that. Her motivation for attacking people was always to take their money, belongings or sometimes food, but still, she understood that drive. She remembered how nervous she was the first time she drew her blade on someone. She’d been a few summers younger and the whole time, she half expected to be wrenched away and executed right then and there. The urge to turn back and abandon her objective had been so strong, though she followed through. After that, it just became easier and easier, until exhilaration replaced any trace or anxiety.
The man behind Kaia had not sounded even remotely nervous. The blade at her back was stable and his breathing was calm and even. He was comfortable with his role then.
“That way,” the man hissed, nudging her towards a dark street adjacent to the tavern.
Kaia obeyed and made for the shadows of the street, forcing herself not to panic. Once in the shadows, she could try to step away and fight him, however he had the advantage already. Any attempt to meet him on even footing would give her away. It seemed Kaia’s best—or perhaps only—option was to act. Kaia was usually the damsel when she and Aea went off on her own. Although she didn’t love it, she couldn’t deny it was effective. If the brute behind her thought to overpower her and find release, then he’d likely expect her to be afraid. The more helpless and afraid she seemed, the less he’d expect her to be capable of defending herself.
Kaia let herself begin to breathe more quickly and loudly as the shadows enveloped them. Her eyes were still adjusting, but as far as Kaia could tell, they were alone.
“Please, what is it you want?” Kaia sobbed. She even attempted to make her voice waver slightly.
The man remained silent and nudged her forward with his hand, momentarily pushing her far enough ahead to not feel the blade. Good. Kaia gave a whimper and stumbled forwards.
“Is it money you’re after? You can take it all, just let me—” Kaia blurted pleadingly, until she was interrupted by a quick smack on the back of her head.
“Shut up and keep moving,” the man snarled, nudging her forward again. Kaia gave a stifled sob as she slipped her hand up under her chalmys. Relying on the darkness to hide her actions, Kaia worked her hand under the fabric and let her fingers close around the hilt of her dagger. Just the mere feeling of it was comforting in that moment, though she had no time to become distracted. Kaia carefully brought her dagger out and hid it by crossing her arms across her front in a show of fear.
Now all she needed was to get some distance between her at that blade. Gripping her dagger tight in her hand, Kaia stumbled and dropped down to her knees as if she tripped.
A hand buried into her hair quicker than she expected and yanked her back up onto her feet. Kaia sobbed as she winced at the pain, before pivoting as much as she could in order to slash down across the man’s arm. Kaia heard the welcoming sound of metal slicing through flesh and darted away as the man cried out and released her hair. Kaia skipped forward another step then whirled around, feeling the whoosh as the man’s blade slicing out towards her and only narrowly missing. Kaia squared her footing and took stock of her attacker, her dagger hand poised and ready. It was then that Kaia realised the man was familiar, which made her feel foolish for not realising who her attacker was earlier. She’d seen him standing in the tavern with another man, just as Aea and her target were making their way to their room.
Well, Kaia wasn’t sure what the group of men were playing at, but she now knew that there was at least one other guy unaccounted for. Kaia hoped Aea had everything under control on her end. Kaia hoped that Aea’s target was unaware of what the other two were planning, but she knew she’d be a fool to assume his innocence considering the predicament she was currently in.
Kaia kept her eyes focused on her attacker. He was maybe a few winters younger than her father, but certainly not as tall or broad. His hairline was receding, and his cheeks gaunt. Kaia was willing to bet he wasn’t as strong as her father or uncles either. Perhaps she could take him if he lunged at her, especially since he seemed to be favouring his wounded arm. If she were him, she would have swapped her dagger to her left hand if her wound was giving her so much grief.
The man seemed to decide on his course of action, his expression hardening before he took a step forward, bringing his arm up. Without hesitation, Kaia stepped forward and grabbed his wrist with her free hand to block him. Trying to take advantage of the situation, Kaia made a slash at his belly, but he blocked her wrist, putting them both at an impasse.
Noticing that he was quite focused on her dagger, Kaia pushed against his wrist, trying to push his weapon further away from her. To her surprise though, he was stronger than he looked and seemed to realise it too. Kaia felt a spark of panic as he put more effort into trying to bring the blade down towards her. She was going to wear that blade in her neck or shoulder if she didn’t think of anything soon.
In an attempt to distract him, Kaia tried to rip her dagger hand free, drawing his eyes back down to her blade. In that moment, Kaia let go of his wrist and stepped back, letting the full force of his strength drive his dagger straight into his thigh. As he screamed, grabbed hold of the front of his tunic, then shoved him to the ground. In his panic, the man’s legs flailed out and tangled with her own. Kaia tried to correct herself, but only seemed to further worsen the situation. She was going to fall, so the best she could do was fall to the side instead of on top of him. She was not going to die by falling on her weakened enemy’s blade by accident.
As Kaia hit the ground, she scrambled to get her legs free from his and picked her dagger back up, just in time to see him shuffling back and away from her, the blade still stuck in his leg.
Kaia made a move towards him, dodging his clumsy kicks. Kaia squatted over him and held her blade to his throat. The man went still, save for the stiled grunts of pain. Kaia could see the anger and humiliation in his eyes and did not feel even remotely sorry for him.
“Why did you attack me?” Kaia asked, her eyes fixed on him, though she was listening out for the sound of the other man she’d seen in the tavern.
Kaia tilted her head to the side slightly and pressed the edge of the blade a little harder against his skin. If she pushed much harder, it would cut him.
“You were alone,” he muttered finally.
“Hmm,” Kaia murmured. “You weren’t alone. Where’s your friend?” Kaia added, trying to figure out what sort of situation she and Aea had stumbled upon.
“I don’t know.”
Kaia sighed. “I could kill you. I’ve done it before,” Kaia murmured, pressing the blade just that little bit harder against his throat until she saw the bead of blood blooming on the dagger.
“I swear, I don’t know!” he panicked. “Please, I’m sorry, please!”
It was tempting; Kaia wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to attack her again later if she killed him now. Then at the same time, she’d have to make sure she discarded any clothing soaked in his blood if she killed him. That would be harder to explain to her family the next day.
“Do you have any money?” Kaia asked calmly.
“Just a few owls.”
“Give them to me,” Kaia demanded. The man closed his eyes and reached into the folds of his clothes. Kaia kept her gaze fixed on his expression as she waited for him to pull out his coin.
Instead, he brought his arms up in front of him and pushed Kaia back, making her lose her balance and fall back on her ass. Kaia quickly tried to sit back up, but left herself open. As she registered the closed fist hurtling towards her face, it was too late to stop it. All she could do was bring her shoulders up and hope to deflect some of the blow.
His fist collided with the side of her face and knocked her to the side. Kaia tried to ignore the blow and turned in time to see him beginning to stand back up. Glowering at her attacker, Kaia darted forward and grabbed hold of the dagger in his leg and twisted it as hard and quickly as she could.
The scream that tore out of him was that of pure agony. Kaia wrenched the dagger out, then scrambled to her feet as the man fell back to the ground, his hands black with his blood. As he whimpered, Kaia kicked him in the head and only relaxed once he slumped over, unconscious. Hopefully he wouldn’t bleed out, but really, if he died after she left, that was his problem.
Just in case though, Kaia reluctantly set his dagger back in his hand. If he did die, she hoped it looked like he’d stabbed himself—which he had.
Checking that she hadn’t been seen, Kaia took a deep breath, then turned back around. She could still hear the muffled sounds of people enjoying themselves within the tavern. Kaia just hoped Aea was alright.
Kaia hid her dagger under her crossed arms as she approached the tavern entrance, though she paused as Aea’s target stumbled out, clutching his hand. If Kaia had seen correctly, it looked like he was bleeding. Fear shot through Kaia at the thought of Aea being hurt, though Kaia reminded herself that fear would do her no good. So, she channeled that fear into anger. She wanted to follow after the man and slit his throat, but she needed to make sure Aea was okay. She hoped Aea had just sent him on his way and was waiting in the tavern for Kaia, but the dread in the pit of Kaia’s stomach made her uneasy.
Begrudgingly, she let the man pass without assault. Once he was clear, Kaia crept out of the shadows, then back into the tavern. Keeping her head low, Kaia moved around the boisterous patrons and made straight for Aea’s room. Gripping the hilt of her dagger tight, Kaia burst through the doorway.
She had been right to be worried about Aea. The first thing Kaia saw was the back of the second man—her attacker’s accomplice—in front of her, chains in hand. The next thing she noticed was her cousin tied up, naked.
If Kaia had any shred of fear left, it was certainly gone now. Seething anger bubbled through her as she come to understand the scene before her. Aea had been hurt and humiliated, and this man was going to pay for it.
Kaia sprang forward and from behind, brought the edge of her dagger up against his adam’s apple, “drop the chains.”
“You’re making a mistake, girl,” the guy muttered, though Kaia could feel his body was rigid and tense.
“I’ve already dealt with your friend,” Kaia hissed into his ear, pressing the blade harder against his throat. “Slitting your throat would be too kind. I should cut you open and let you taste your own insides before you die.”
No response. Kaia smirked slightly at that. He was afraid of her then.
“Drop the chains.”
This time, he did.
“Give me a reason not to spill your blood for what has happened here,” Kaia dared the man quietly. Kaia had to stay angry at the filth under her knife, because if she wasn’t angry, then she would be overcome with crippling guilt at throwing Aea into such a situation. It was Kaia’s fault and she knew it, she just couldn’t handle accepting it just yet.
Aea sat up, her arms clasped over her chest and her pulse pushing through her body at a dizzying speed. The man at the door was large, but not as large as her father. Scarred, but not as scarred as her uncle. Her eyes darted from his face to the rest of him, just like she’d been taught—three points to see, and then you move.
There was an iron rod at his hip, a sword on his right—left handed, then—a leather cover upon his right shoulder—injured—and scars along his legs. She had no blades, no clothes, and he had heavy chains in his hands. He was going to throw her in the mines. She was as good as dead. She was going to die with a broken back and dead lungs. Dead.
Fury was nowhere near her now, only a shuddering stomach and a heart that beat so fast that it seemed nonexistent. She was going to die. Every hour and drop of blood she’d poured into her practice, every crack across her skin and piercing of her flesh, ten years of agonising work whittled into the point of nothingness. She was going to die.
Aea scrambled away from the door, her tied feet pushing the threadbare blanket to the foot of the bed. She made a sound of distress, like a fucking animal, and got her feet under her enough to curl into a ball against the wall. Her eyes stayed riveted to the man, her mouth open and choked on a silent scream that she wanted desperately to lose but couldn’t. She was silenced by the thick air stuffing her mouth and throat. No, that was cloth.
Her father would have snarled for her to lunge head-on into the man. Uncle Dasmo would have told her to roll off and get under the bed to wiggle out of grasp until Kaia came. Uncle Cassero would have told her to go with him gentle as a lamb and shatter his skull while he slept. Uncle Agolois would have told her to start twitching like she was sick in the head. Uncle Gatheron would have told her to wait until she was ungagged to bargain her way out of it.
Aea was frozen and could not pick which path to follow. Fuck them. What would Aea do? Her eyes darted to the chains in his hands. They just took people from public? How did they know she wouldn’t be missed, how did they know her family would not look to the mines and demand her back?
“Don’t do anything stupid, woman, won’t be so bad where you’re going.” His voice was gruff and his accent clumsy, like it couldn’t decide where it had come from.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and Kaia was suddenly there, all at once a blessing and a curse. Aea’s muscles coiled and how she wished, more than anything, that this was all a nightmare. Kaia moved like a biting wind, her arms and legs a blur of movement. One moment, she was at the door and the next, she had the man at the edge of her blade. “Drop the chains.”
“You’re making a mistake, girl,” the man muttered.
“I’ve already dealt with your friend. Slitting your throat would be too kind. I should cut you open and let you taste your own insides before you die.” Kaia’s blade pressed a hard line against the man’s adam’s apple. He made the mistake of swallowing, allowing the metal to scrape over his skin like pumice.
“Drop the chains.”
They clattered to the floor.
“Give me a reason not to spill your blood for what has happened here.”
And then it was done.
Aea’s heart slowed, gradually easing until she became fully, acutely aware of her surroundings. She suddenly felt empty, like all her insides had been twisted, liquified, and drained from her. There was emotion, yes, but it was hollow. Shame covered every inch of her, thick and stifling as a blanket. No rage. No fear. It was done, she was not in danger. She would not die. But maybe it would be better if she did. Maybe not. It certainly felt as if she could sink no lower, and specks of dirt had no life, so why should she be entitled to it?
She worked her arms painfully from behind her back to her front, rolling the shoulder joint without first stretching. It was usually not such a difficult task, but her wrists were bound so tight that it left much to be desired in the way of shifting. Still, she did it, and as soon as her hands were in front of her, she ripped the gag from her mouth and pulled down the material that held it. Her mouth was so dry. She didn’t care.
“Because he will take us to whoever gave him orders.” Aea said. Her voice was uneven, detached and far away as if it did not belong to her.
Kaia said she’d dealt with the friend, but even if she’d killed the man who Aea thought might...might...it didn’t matter. Even so, there might be one higher that was collecting the unsuspecting to feed the insatiable Colchian mines. Aea did not care to be taken to him, she only wanted to make sure the man before her thought he had a fighting chance of living past the night.
He nodded slowly. “I will. No funny business. I swear it on my mother's grave.”
Aea slowly got off the bed. She wanted her clothes, she wanted to hide and sleep and pretend like she wasn’t here, that Kaia did not have to come save her because she couldn’t do it herself. She wanted to go home. Most of all, she wanted her father. But the man had been right when he called her a woman and warned her against stupidity—she was a woman and not a child. Nobody had ever called her a woman before, only ‘Aea’ or ‘child.’ She was seventeen, though. Kaia was a woman, and she was only a year older.
Aea was not a child. She did not need her father. She did not need anyone. Not even Kaia. She would have been fine, she could have escaped the mines all by herself. But she’d been afraid. She’d been a coward because she thought she would die. It was disgusting.
Aea bent and maneuvered her hands to her ankles. She untied the knot at her feet before she strode across the room and wordlessly picked up the chains. The man jerked, his head shaking slowly. “Now wait, I—”
“Will do as I say or die where you stand,” Aea intoned. She should feel something more than shame. She should feel angry, humiliated, naked and uncomfortable. She didn’t. Even the shame ebbed away to nothing and suddenly, it was as if he were just another obstacle in the way of bread money.
She locked both cuffs around the man’s wrists. Now they were twins. “On the bed,” she muttered, “let’s see what you know.”
“I don’t—”
“We can find him without your assistance,” Aea said. “Or you can get on the bed.”
He held her gaze for a moment, and Aea saw apprehension in those glassy orbs. Here was a human who might have been doing nothing more than earning coin to feed his family. Here was a man who felt fear, pain, love, hate. Just like her. She did not care. She wanted to, but she didn’t. As she stared at him, his existence morphed into something entirely new.
This was not prey to hunt for survival. This was a game for her to play, and he was nothing more than the field she moved upon. Slowly, the dull shawl of guilt dragged itself off of her and left her with nothing except rage. Her wrath burned away every shed of humiliation he’d given her. Her past, present, and future. She was no woman. She was not even human. She was something without a name or face, an ideal, a thought. Death. Decay. Rebirth.
Aea licked her dry lips and the room grew heavy. Her heart thudded, slow and strong. The man shuffled to the bed, whether by Kaia’s blade or his own violation, Aea did not pay attention. She stared at the closed door. And then she felt it.
She took a deep, ragged breath. Her skin burned from the tips of her ears to the soles of her feet. She tasted blood and pitch, and her stomach snarled for more. Her emotions kept shrinking far, far away from her, leaving her as a shell, and then came roaring back. She wanted his blood, and then she did not care for it. She wanted his fear, and then she forgot what fear was. She wanted whatever had been taken from her, and then she was resigned to let it be.
But he had taken something. He’d stolen something. Power, life, or faith, she did not know, but by the blood of Ares and the cold clutch of Hades, by the black heart of Hecate and the endless hunger of the three-headed Cerberus, she would take it back with interest. She would have this man’s soul dripping through her teeth, she would have his world in her grasp, and she would crush it with the strength of a God.
Kaia managed to fit the man onto the bed and chain him down securely. Off came Aea’s rope. She did not even notice she was still naked. The epiblema she’d been wearing all night, and almost every night before that, was tossed on the floor, forgotten. The dull white cloth was old, off-white, and frayed upon all four sides, but it was clean. Except, of course, for the dark red wine stain in the middle of the material, given by a simple man who’d made the mistake of falling merrily into Aea not an hour past.
And if he were in this room now, she would have filled his goblet with his own blood before forcing every ounce of it down his throat, draining and filling his body over and over again until she grew bored of watching him drown in it.
Arra
Aea
Arra
Aea
Awards
First Impressions:Hourglass; Glossy black hair that falls to her hips, piercing blue eyes, a voluptuous figure, and a serious, concentrated expression.
Address: Your
First Impressions:Hourglass; Glossy black hair that falls to her hips, piercing blue eyes, a voluptuous figure, and a serious, concentrated expression.
Address: Your
Aea sat up, her arms clasped over her chest and her pulse pushing through her body at a dizzying speed. The man at the door was large, but not as large as her father. Scarred, but not as scarred as her uncle. Her eyes darted from his face to the rest of him, just like she’d been taught—three points to see, and then you move.
There was an iron rod at his hip, a sword on his right—left handed, then—a leather cover upon his right shoulder—injured—and scars along his legs. She had no blades, no clothes, and he had heavy chains in his hands. He was going to throw her in the mines. She was as good as dead. She was going to die with a broken back and dead lungs. Dead.
Fury was nowhere near her now, only a shuddering stomach and a heart that beat so fast that it seemed nonexistent. She was going to die. Every hour and drop of blood she’d poured into her practice, every crack across her skin and piercing of her flesh, ten years of agonising work whittled into the point of nothingness. She was going to die.
Aea scrambled away from the door, her tied feet pushing the threadbare blanket to the foot of the bed. She made a sound of distress, like a fucking animal, and got her feet under her enough to curl into a ball against the wall. Her eyes stayed riveted to the man, her mouth open and choked on a silent scream that she wanted desperately to lose but couldn’t. She was silenced by the thick air stuffing her mouth and throat. No, that was cloth.
Her father would have snarled for her to lunge head-on into the man. Uncle Dasmo would have told her to roll off and get under the bed to wiggle out of grasp until Kaia came. Uncle Cassero would have told her to go with him gentle as a lamb and shatter his skull while he slept. Uncle Agolois would have told her to start twitching like she was sick in the head. Uncle Gatheron would have told her to wait until she was ungagged to bargain her way out of it.
Aea was frozen and could not pick which path to follow. Fuck them. What would Aea do? Her eyes darted to the chains in his hands. They just took people from public? How did they know she wouldn’t be missed, how did they know her family would not look to the mines and demand her back?
“Don’t do anything stupid, woman, won’t be so bad where you’re going.” His voice was gruff and his accent clumsy, like it couldn’t decide where it had come from.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and Kaia was suddenly there, all at once a blessing and a curse. Aea’s muscles coiled and how she wished, more than anything, that this was all a nightmare. Kaia moved like a biting wind, her arms and legs a blur of movement. One moment, she was at the door and the next, she had the man at the edge of her blade. “Drop the chains.”
“You’re making a mistake, girl,” the man muttered.
“I’ve already dealt with your friend. Slitting your throat would be too kind. I should cut you open and let you taste your own insides before you die.” Kaia’s blade pressed a hard line against the man’s adam’s apple. He made the mistake of swallowing, allowing the metal to scrape over his skin like pumice.
“Drop the chains.”
They clattered to the floor.
“Give me a reason not to spill your blood for what has happened here.”
And then it was done.
Aea’s heart slowed, gradually easing until she became fully, acutely aware of her surroundings. She suddenly felt empty, like all her insides had been twisted, liquified, and drained from her. There was emotion, yes, but it was hollow. Shame covered every inch of her, thick and stifling as a blanket. No rage. No fear. It was done, she was not in danger. She would not die. But maybe it would be better if she did. Maybe not. It certainly felt as if she could sink no lower, and specks of dirt had no life, so why should she be entitled to it?
She worked her arms painfully from behind her back to her front, rolling the shoulder joint without first stretching. It was usually not such a difficult task, but her wrists were bound so tight that it left much to be desired in the way of shifting. Still, she did it, and as soon as her hands were in front of her, she ripped the gag from her mouth and pulled down the material that held it. Her mouth was so dry. She didn’t care.
“Because he will take us to whoever gave him orders.” Aea said. Her voice was uneven, detached and far away as if it did not belong to her.
Kaia said she’d dealt with the friend, but even if she’d killed the man who Aea thought might...might...it didn’t matter. Even so, there might be one higher that was collecting the unsuspecting to feed the insatiable Colchian mines. Aea did not care to be taken to him, she only wanted to make sure the man before her thought he had a fighting chance of living past the night.
He nodded slowly. “I will. No funny business. I swear it on my mother's grave.”
Aea slowly got off the bed. She wanted her clothes, she wanted to hide and sleep and pretend like she wasn’t here, that Kaia did not have to come save her because she couldn’t do it herself. She wanted to go home. Most of all, she wanted her father. But the man had been right when he called her a woman and warned her against stupidity—she was a woman and not a child. Nobody had ever called her a woman before, only ‘Aea’ or ‘child.’ She was seventeen, though. Kaia was a woman, and she was only a year older.
Aea was not a child. She did not need her father. She did not need anyone. Not even Kaia. She would have been fine, she could have escaped the mines all by herself. But she’d been afraid. She’d been a coward because she thought she would die. It was disgusting.
Aea bent and maneuvered her hands to her ankles. She untied the knot at her feet before she strode across the room and wordlessly picked up the chains. The man jerked, his head shaking slowly. “Now wait, I—”
“Will do as I say or die where you stand,” Aea intoned. She should feel something more than shame. She should feel angry, humiliated, naked and uncomfortable. She didn’t. Even the shame ebbed away to nothing and suddenly, it was as if he were just another obstacle in the way of bread money.
She locked both cuffs around the man’s wrists. Now they were twins. “On the bed,” she muttered, “let’s see what you know.”
“I don’t—”
“We can find him without your assistance,” Aea said. “Or you can get on the bed.”
He held her gaze for a moment, and Aea saw apprehension in those glassy orbs. Here was a human who might have been doing nothing more than earning coin to feed his family. Here was a man who felt fear, pain, love, hate. Just like her. She did not care. She wanted to, but she didn’t. As she stared at him, his existence morphed into something entirely new.
This was not prey to hunt for survival. This was a game for her to play, and he was nothing more than the field she moved upon. Slowly, the dull shawl of guilt dragged itself off of her and left her with nothing except rage. Her wrath burned away every shed of humiliation he’d given her. Her past, present, and future. She was no woman. She was not even human. She was something without a name or face, an ideal, a thought. Death. Decay. Rebirth.
Aea licked her dry lips and the room grew heavy. Her heart thudded, slow and strong. The man shuffled to the bed, whether by Kaia’s blade or his own violation, Aea did not pay attention. She stared at the closed door. And then she felt it.
She took a deep, ragged breath. Her skin burned from the tips of her ears to the soles of her feet. She tasted blood and pitch, and her stomach snarled for more. Her emotions kept shrinking far, far away from her, leaving her as a shell, and then came roaring back. She wanted his blood, and then she did not care for it. She wanted his fear, and then she forgot what fear was. She wanted whatever had been taken from her, and then she was resigned to let it be.
But he had taken something. He’d stolen something. Power, life, or faith, she did not know, but by the blood of Ares and the cold clutch of Hades, by the black heart of Hecate and the endless hunger of the three-headed Cerberus, she would take it back with interest. She would have this man’s soul dripping through her teeth, she would have his world in her grasp, and she would crush it with the strength of a God.
Kaia managed to fit the man onto the bed and chain him down securely. Off came Aea’s rope. She did not even notice she was still naked. The epiblema she’d been wearing all night, and almost every night before that, was tossed on the floor, forgotten. The dull white cloth was old, off-white, and frayed upon all four sides, but it was clean. Except, of course, for the dark red wine stain in the middle of the material, given by a simple man who’d made the mistake of falling merrily into Aea not an hour past.
And if he were in this room now, she would have filled his goblet with his own blood before forcing every ounce of it down his throat, draining and filling his body over and over again until she grew bored of watching him drown in it.
Aea sat up, her arms clasped over her chest and her pulse pushing through her body at a dizzying speed. The man at the door was large, but not as large as her father. Scarred, but not as scarred as her uncle. Her eyes darted from his face to the rest of him, just like she’d been taught—three points to see, and then you move.
There was an iron rod at his hip, a sword on his right—left handed, then—a leather cover upon his right shoulder—injured—and scars along his legs. She had no blades, no clothes, and he had heavy chains in his hands. He was going to throw her in the mines. She was as good as dead. She was going to die with a broken back and dead lungs. Dead.
Fury was nowhere near her now, only a shuddering stomach and a heart that beat so fast that it seemed nonexistent. She was going to die. Every hour and drop of blood she’d poured into her practice, every crack across her skin and piercing of her flesh, ten years of agonising work whittled into the point of nothingness. She was going to die.
Aea scrambled away from the door, her tied feet pushing the threadbare blanket to the foot of the bed. She made a sound of distress, like a fucking animal, and got her feet under her enough to curl into a ball against the wall. Her eyes stayed riveted to the man, her mouth open and choked on a silent scream that she wanted desperately to lose but couldn’t. She was silenced by the thick air stuffing her mouth and throat. No, that was cloth.
Her father would have snarled for her to lunge head-on into the man. Uncle Dasmo would have told her to roll off and get under the bed to wiggle out of grasp until Kaia came. Uncle Cassero would have told her to go with him gentle as a lamb and shatter his skull while he slept. Uncle Agolois would have told her to start twitching like she was sick in the head. Uncle Gatheron would have told her to wait until she was ungagged to bargain her way out of it.
Aea was frozen and could not pick which path to follow. Fuck them. What would Aea do? Her eyes darted to the chains in his hands. They just took people from public? How did they know she wouldn’t be missed, how did they know her family would not look to the mines and demand her back?
“Don’t do anything stupid, woman, won’t be so bad where you’re going.” His voice was gruff and his accent clumsy, like it couldn’t decide where it had come from.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and Kaia was suddenly there, all at once a blessing and a curse. Aea’s muscles coiled and how she wished, more than anything, that this was all a nightmare. Kaia moved like a biting wind, her arms and legs a blur of movement. One moment, she was at the door and the next, she had the man at the edge of her blade. “Drop the chains.”
“You’re making a mistake, girl,” the man muttered.
“I’ve already dealt with your friend. Slitting your throat would be too kind. I should cut you open and let you taste your own insides before you die.” Kaia’s blade pressed a hard line against the man’s adam’s apple. He made the mistake of swallowing, allowing the metal to scrape over his skin like pumice.
“Drop the chains.”
They clattered to the floor.
“Give me a reason not to spill your blood for what has happened here.”
And then it was done.
Aea’s heart slowed, gradually easing until she became fully, acutely aware of her surroundings. She suddenly felt empty, like all her insides had been twisted, liquified, and drained from her. There was emotion, yes, but it was hollow. Shame covered every inch of her, thick and stifling as a blanket. No rage. No fear. It was done, she was not in danger. She would not die. But maybe it would be better if she did. Maybe not. It certainly felt as if she could sink no lower, and specks of dirt had no life, so why should she be entitled to it?
She worked her arms painfully from behind her back to her front, rolling the shoulder joint without first stretching. It was usually not such a difficult task, but her wrists were bound so tight that it left much to be desired in the way of shifting. Still, she did it, and as soon as her hands were in front of her, she ripped the gag from her mouth and pulled down the material that held it. Her mouth was so dry. She didn’t care.
“Because he will take us to whoever gave him orders.” Aea said. Her voice was uneven, detached and far away as if it did not belong to her.
Kaia said she’d dealt with the friend, but even if she’d killed the man who Aea thought might...might...it didn’t matter. Even so, there might be one higher that was collecting the unsuspecting to feed the insatiable Colchian mines. Aea did not care to be taken to him, she only wanted to make sure the man before her thought he had a fighting chance of living past the night.
He nodded slowly. “I will. No funny business. I swear it on my mother's grave.”
Aea slowly got off the bed. She wanted her clothes, she wanted to hide and sleep and pretend like she wasn’t here, that Kaia did not have to come save her because she couldn’t do it herself. She wanted to go home. Most of all, she wanted her father. But the man had been right when he called her a woman and warned her against stupidity—she was a woman and not a child. Nobody had ever called her a woman before, only ‘Aea’ or ‘child.’ She was seventeen, though. Kaia was a woman, and she was only a year older.
Aea was not a child. She did not need her father. She did not need anyone. Not even Kaia. She would have been fine, she could have escaped the mines all by herself. But she’d been afraid. She’d been a coward because she thought she would die. It was disgusting.
Aea bent and maneuvered her hands to her ankles. She untied the knot at her feet before she strode across the room and wordlessly picked up the chains. The man jerked, his head shaking slowly. “Now wait, I—”
“Will do as I say or die where you stand,” Aea intoned. She should feel something more than shame. She should feel angry, humiliated, naked and uncomfortable. She didn’t. Even the shame ebbed away to nothing and suddenly, it was as if he were just another obstacle in the way of bread money.
She locked both cuffs around the man’s wrists. Now they were twins. “On the bed,” she muttered, “let’s see what you know.”
“I don’t—”
“We can find him without your assistance,” Aea said. “Or you can get on the bed.”
He held her gaze for a moment, and Aea saw apprehension in those glassy orbs. Here was a human who might have been doing nothing more than earning coin to feed his family. Here was a man who felt fear, pain, love, hate. Just like her. She did not care. She wanted to, but she didn’t. As she stared at him, his existence morphed into something entirely new.
This was not prey to hunt for survival. This was a game for her to play, and he was nothing more than the field she moved upon. Slowly, the dull shawl of guilt dragged itself off of her and left her with nothing except rage. Her wrath burned away every shed of humiliation he’d given her. Her past, present, and future. She was no woman. She was not even human. She was something without a name or face, an ideal, a thought. Death. Decay. Rebirth.
Aea licked her dry lips and the room grew heavy. Her heart thudded, slow and strong. The man shuffled to the bed, whether by Kaia’s blade or his own violation, Aea did not pay attention. She stared at the closed door. And then she felt it.
She took a deep, ragged breath. Her skin burned from the tips of her ears to the soles of her feet. She tasted blood and pitch, and her stomach snarled for more. Her emotions kept shrinking far, far away from her, leaving her as a shell, and then came roaring back. She wanted his blood, and then she did not care for it. She wanted his fear, and then she forgot what fear was. She wanted whatever had been taken from her, and then she was resigned to let it be.
But he had taken something. He’d stolen something. Power, life, or faith, she did not know, but by the blood of Ares and the cold clutch of Hades, by the black heart of Hecate and the endless hunger of the three-headed Cerberus, she would take it back with interest. She would have this man’s soul dripping through her teeth, she would have his world in her grasp, and she would crush it with the strength of a God.
Kaia managed to fit the man onto the bed and chain him down securely. Off came Aea’s rope. She did not even notice she was still naked. The epiblema she’d been wearing all night, and almost every night before that, was tossed on the floor, forgotten. The dull white cloth was old, off-white, and frayed upon all four sides, but it was clean. Except, of course, for the dark red wine stain in the middle of the material, given by a simple man who’d made the mistake of falling merrily into Aea not an hour past.
And if he were in this room now, she would have filled his goblet with his own blood before forcing every ounce of it down his throat, draining and filling his body over and over again until she grew bored of watching him drown in it.
The panic was there, but for the meantime, beaten down by a red hot rage. Kaia needed to be angry at the scum who had thought to hurt her cousin, or she’d fall victim to her own guilt and panic. She would deal with those emotions later. She needed to get Aea and her out of there and she would only do so if she wanted nothing more than to make the offending piece of filth against her blade bleed.
The man remained silent, perhaps calling her bluff, or even lost for thought. It mattered not. Kaia would enjoy making him beg for mercy. She would not kill him quickly—he would know true agony before she would let his life slip away.
“Because he will take us to whoever gave him orders.”
Kaia flicked her gaze up at her cousin briefly, before returning her full attention to her hostage. It was a good point. Kaia did not want anyone else sniffing after them. She’d caused enough trouble, she needed to make sure no more harm could follow them.
“I will. No funny business. I swear it on my mother's grave.”
“Your mother’s grave means nothing to me,” Kaia snarled into his ear. She understood the sentiment, but it was beside the point.
As Aea got off the bed, Kaia kept her cousin in her peripheral vision. Beyond concern, the fact that Aea was naked was lost on Kaia. All that Kaia saw was her cousin in danger because of what Kaia had stupidly thought was a good idea. Anything at all that went even remotely wrong, was her fault. All she could do was hope to not make matters worse. Aea had a plan, so Kaia would follow it. All Aea had to do though was give even the slightest inclination, and Kaia would gladly make the man pay.
As Aea picked up the chains, their captive reacted, even despite Kaia’s blade against his throat.
“Now wait, I—”
“Will do as I say or die where you stand. On the bed, let’s see what you know.”
Kaia began ushering the man towards the bed. She could feel the apprehension in his gait, but he moved all the same. As he set himself on the bed, Kaia restrained him firmly. There would be no escape for him unless either she or Kaia wished it.
Stepping back, Kaia kept her eyes on the prisoner. Aea was still naked, but it did not matter. If anything, it made Aea even more fierce, which was a comfort to Kaia. She would make this right for her cousin, and letting her inflict damage before herself would be Kaia’s first step.
Wordlessly, Kaia offered her blade to Aea on an open palm. The moment was hers to conduct as she pleased. Kaia would see that her cousin saw justice rightly served in whatever way, shape or form necessary.
Lani
Kaia
Lani
Kaia
Awards
First Impressions:Lean, athletic; Straw-blonde hair, stormy blue eyes, and a nearly permanent scowl.
Address: Your
The panic was there, but for the meantime, beaten down by a red hot rage. Kaia needed to be angry at the scum who had thought to hurt her cousin, or she’d fall victim to her own guilt and panic. She would deal with those emotions later. She needed to get Aea and her out of there and she would only do so if she wanted nothing more than to make the offending piece of filth against her blade bleed.
The man remained silent, perhaps calling her bluff, or even lost for thought. It mattered not. Kaia would enjoy making him beg for mercy. She would not kill him quickly—he would know true agony before she would let his life slip away.
“Because he will take us to whoever gave him orders.”
Kaia flicked her gaze up at her cousin briefly, before returning her full attention to her hostage. It was a good point. Kaia did not want anyone else sniffing after them. She’d caused enough trouble, she needed to make sure no more harm could follow them.
“I will. No funny business. I swear it on my mother's grave.”
“Your mother’s grave means nothing to me,” Kaia snarled into his ear. She understood the sentiment, but it was beside the point.
As Aea got off the bed, Kaia kept her cousin in her peripheral vision. Beyond concern, the fact that Aea was naked was lost on Kaia. All that Kaia saw was her cousin in danger because of what Kaia had stupidly thought was a good idea. Anything at all that went even remotely wrong, was her fault. All she could do was hope to not make matters worse. Aea had a plan, so Kaia would follow it. All Aea had to do though was give even the slightest inclination, and Kaia would gladly make the man pay.
As Aea picked up the chains, their captive reacted, even despite Kaia’s blade against his throat.
“Now wait, I—”
“Will do as I say or die where you stand. On the bed, let’s see what you know.”
Kaia began ushering the man towards the bed. She could feel the apprehension in his gait, but he moved all the same. As he set himself on the bed, Kaia restrained him firmly. There would be no escape for him unless either she or Kaia wished it.
Stepping back, Kaia kept her eyes on the prisoner. Aea was still naked, but it did not matter. If anything, it made Aea even more fierce, which was a comfort to Kaia. She would make this right for her cousin, and letting her inflict damage before herself would be Kaia’s first step.
Wordlessly, Kaia offered her blade to Aea on an open palm. The moment was hers to conduct as she pleased. Kaia would see that her cousin saw justice rightly served in whatever way, shape or form necessary.
The panic was there, but for the meantime, beaten down by a red hot rage. Kaia needed to be angry at the scum who had thought to hurt her cousin, or she’d fall victim to her own guilt and panic. She would deal with those emotions later. She needed to get Aea and her out of there and she would only do so if she wanted nothing more than to make the offending piece of filth against her blade bleed.
The man remained silent, perhaps calling her bluff, or even lost for thought. It mattered not. Kaia would enjoy making him beg for mercy. She would not kill him quickly—he would know true agony before she would let his life slip away.
“Because he will take us to whoever gave him orders.”
Kaia flicked her gaze up at her cousin briefly, before returning her full attention to her hostage. It was a good point. Kaia did not want anyone else sniffing after them. She’d caused enough trouble, she needed to make sure no more harm could follow them.
“I will. No funny business. I swear it on my mother's grave.”
“Your mother’s grave means nothing to me,” Kaia snarled into his ear. She understood the sentiment, but it was beside the point.
As Aea got off the bed, Kaia kept her cousin in her peripheral vision. Beyond concern, the fact that Aea was naked was lost on Kaia. All that Kaia saw was her cousin in danger because of what Kaia had stupidly thought was a good idea. Anything at all that went even remotely wrong, was her fault. All she could do was hope to not make matters worse. Aea had a plan, so Kaia would follow it. All Aea had to do though was give even the slightest inclination, and Kaia would gladly make the man pay.
As Aea picked up the chains, their captive reacted, even despite Kaia’s blade against his throat.
“Now wait, I—”
“Will do as I say or die where you stand. On the bed, let’s see what you know.”
Kaia began ushering the man towards the bed. She could feel the apprehension in his gait, but he moved all the same. As he set himself on the bed, Kaia restrained him firmly. There would be no escape for him unless either she or Kaia wished it.
Stepping back, Kaia kept her eyes on the prisoner. Aea was still naked, but it did not matter. If anything, it made Aea even more fierce, which was a comfort to Kaia. She would make this right for her cousin, and letting her inflict damage before herself would be Kaia’s first step.
Wordlessly, Kaia offered her blade to Aea on an open palm. The moment was hers to conduct as she pleased. Kaia would see that her cousin saw justice rightly served in whatever way, shape or form necessary.
She barred the door with the wooden block set beside it before turning and making her way to the bed. Aea kept her eyes upon the man as she took the blade from her cousin. The weight wasn’t right, the texture wasn’t right, it wasn’t her blade, but it was a blade and it would do. The man before her was wide and portly, certainly taller than herself, and though his face might have been handsome in youth, it was tinted red from too much drink and freckled with pockmarks.
When the man saw the knife, his eyes widened and he began to struggle. Apparently he hadn’t believed them. He punched the air and flailed his legs, aiming for Aea and Kaia. The chains rattled violently, causing a raucous din. She didn’t like that. Aea flipped Kaia’s knife and darted into his guard. He caught her in the leg and she was vaguely aware of her muscles burning. She’d have a bruise tomorrow. Quickly, she drove the butt of the knife into the man’s temple. Once, twice. His body twitched and his eyes rolled back. He stilled and fell backwards, but Aea caught him by the hair and kept him upright. He recovered in a few seconds and by then, she had the knife at his throat and although he could kick her legs out from under her, he could not escape so quickly with his arms chained. Kaia would slay him in seconds.
The man’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes darting wildly between she and Kaia. Aea didn’t like that. “Look at me,” she muttered. He did. His eyes were a pretty brown color, like river mud.
He was still now in the way that cornered mice became paralyzed. That would do. She kneed his legs open wide, stepping between them without thought to his big belly bushing against her legs. Wordlessly, she removed his fibulae and the belt holding his weapons and clothing together. He sucked in a breath. She unwrapped his tunic, letting the old thing drop to the bed behind him and leaving him in nothing but worn undergarments. He took another deep breath and Aea pushed his chest with a flat palm, shoving him onto his back.
The chains rattled against the bedpost.
She crawled over his body, draping herself upon his bare stomach like a lounging cat, propping her chin upon a closed fist while her elbow dug uncomfortably into his chest. His wide eyes held panic. It wasn’t enough. Aea reached down with her bladed fist and slipped the sharpened end between the flesh of his hips and the material around it, close enough to his manhood that he would nick it himself if he moved. Sawing carefully, she searched his eyes.
“What was the man’s name? The one who came with me.”
“Moresi.” He breathed, “of Phossis.”
The material fell open and she grabbed it, uncaring that he was just as naked as she. It didn’t register, in any case. Her nerves, usually so sensitive to touch, were deadened in the wake of her hunger for the man’s suffering.
Aea snatched the undergarment and yanked, pulling it from underneath his ass little by little until it was freed. She brought it to his face and pressed the inner layer into his mouth. He resisted at first, but she put pressure into her pinky and ring finger and Kaia’s blade pushed threateningly against his jowls. He opened his mouth and she stuffed the cloth past his teeth. She hoped he liked the taste of his own balls.
“You’re very quick to sell off your accomplices,” she said, “disloyalty is a terrible flaw. Then again...you could be lying.”
He shook his head. She didn’t care if he was.
Aea opened his flesh with the tip of her knife, just a cut, just enough to coax a few beads of blood to the surface of his chin.
“Where are my weapons and clothing?” She took the rag from his mouth just enough that he could quickly get out that they were with the barkeep. Apparently, he was in on the con. What were the odds that she and Kaia had approached a man at random and he happened to be running a con right behind them? Was it the will of the Gods? Were they meant to kill this man?
Aea pushed the cloth back into his mouth and sat up, straddling his belly as if she were a giantess sitting astride a great mountain. She looked over her shoulder and eyed the two weapons laying useless beside his hips. One was a sword, and the other looked like a livestock brand. Her expression was neither surprised nor angry. She reached behind her for the long rod and lifted it, twisting forward to study the blocky delta letter. He meant to brand her like a cow.
Wordlessly, she reached above him and angled the rod in such a way that it rested upon the side table, the iron brand making its home in the small flame of the oil lamp. The man tried to crane his neck to see what she was doing. She let him. When he caught sight of the rod, he bellowed around his gag and wiggled, nearly unseating Aea in the process. She growled low in her chest and pushed his head to the side, cracking his neck. She held him there until he stopped moving.
“What is your name?” she murmured.
Again, she removed his cloth and his words came tumbling out like cast bones. “Frectos of Megaris,” he said. His voice was quivering. She kept the cloth out of his mouth for a few moments, curiosity driving her to risk. He did not scream.
“Why do you not call for help, Frectos?”
She hoped he didn’t, but she would not be scared if he did. Fear wasn’t an emotion she could comprehend at the moment. Only emptiness.
“I—I can lead you to him.”
“And so you believe me that I will not kill you?”
He swallowed. “No, I mean yes, and—”
“And there’s always a chance I was not lying,” she finished. Aea did not know if that was what he meant, but she supplied the answer because she knew he would agree. He nodded.
“And because you deserve it.”
He hesitated, but nodded again when she began to push the rag back.
“I do! I deserve it. I’m sorry for it.”
She didn’t believe his claim. There was no true genuinity behind his words, only rushed pacification. She didn’t like it.
“No, you aren’t. Nor will you be, I suspect,” Aea said. She opened her mouth to say something else, but a sharp knock at the door cut her off.
"Frectos?" A man called from the other side.
Arra
Aea
Arra
Aea
Awards
First Impressions:Hourglass; Glossy black hair that falls to her hips, piercing blue eyes, a voluptuous figure, and a serious, concentrated expression.
Address: Your
First Impressions:Hourglass; Glossy black hair that falls to her hips, piercing blue eyes, a voluptuous figure, and a serious, concentrated expression.
Address: Your
She barred the door with the wooden block set beside it before turning and making her way to the bed. Aea kept her eyes upon the man as she took the blade from her cousin. The weight wasn’t right, the texture wasn’t right, it wasn’t her blade, but it was a blade and it would do. The man before her was wide and portly, certainly taller than herself, and though his face might have been handsome in youth, it was tinted red from too much drink and freckled with pockmarks.
When the man saw the knife, his eyes widened and he began to struggle. Apparently he hadn’t believed them. He punched the air and flailed his legs, aiming for Aea and Kaia. The chains rattled violently, causing a raucous din. She didn’t like that. Aea flipped Kaia’s knife and darted into his guard. He caught her in the leg and she was vaguely aware of her muscles burning. She’d have a bruise tomorrow. Quickly, she drove the butt of the knife into the man’s temple. Once, twice. His body twitched and his eyes rolled back. He stilled and fell backwards, but Aea caught him by the hair and kept him upright. He recovered in a few seconds and by then, she had the knife at his throat and although he could kick her legs out from under her, he could not escape so quickly with his arms chained. Kaia would slay him in seconds.
The man’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes darting wildly between she and Kaia. Aea didn’t like that. “Look at me,” she muttered. He did. His eyes were a pretty brown color, like river mud.
He was still now in the way that cornered mice became paralyzed. That would do. She kneed his legs open wide, stepping between them without thought to his big belly bushing against her legs. Wordlessly, she removed his fibulae and the belt holding his weapons and clothing together. He sucked in a breath. She unwrapped his tunic, letting the old thing drop to the bed behind him and leaving him in nothing but worn undergarments. He took another deep breath and Aea pushed his chest with a flat palm, shoving him onto his back.
The chains rattled against the bedpost.
She crawled over his body, draping herself upon his bare stomach like a lounging cat, propping her chin upon a closed fist while her elbow dug uncomfortably into his chest. His wide eyes held panic. It wasn’t enough. Aea reached down with her bladed fist and slipped the sharpened end between the flesh of his hips and the material around it, close enough to his manhood that he would nick it himself if he moved. Sawing carefully, she searched his eyes.
“What was the man’s name? The one who came with me.”
“Moresi.” He breathed, “of Phossis.”
The material fell open and she grabbed it, uncaring that he was just as naked as she. It didn’t register, in any case. Her nerves, usually so sensitive to touch, were deadened in the wake of her hunger for the man’s suffering.
Aea snatched the undergarment and yanked, pulling it from underneath his ass little by little until it was freed. She brought it to his face and pressed the inner layer into his mouth. He resisted at first, but she put pressure into her pinky and ring finger and Kaia’s blade pushed threateningly against his jowls. He opened his mouth and she stuffed the cloth past his teeth. She hoped he liked the taste of his own balls.
“You’re very quick to sell off your accomplices,” she said, “disloyalty is a terrible flaw. Then again...you could be lying.”
He shook his head. She didn’t care if he was.
Aea opened his flesh with the tip of her knife, just a cut, just enough to coax a few beads of blood to the surface of his chin.
“Where are my weapons and clothing?” She took the rag from his mouth just enough that he could quickly get out that they were with the barkeep. Apparently, he was in on the con. What were the odds that she and Kaia had approached a man at random and he happened to be running a con right behind them? Was it the will of the Gods? Were they meant to kill this man?
Aea pushed the cloth back into his mouth and sat up, straddling his belly as if she were a giantess sitting astride a great mountain. She looked over her shoulder and eyed the two weapons laying useless beside his hips. One was a sword, and the other looked like a livestock brand. Her expression was neither surprised nor angry. She reached behind her for the long rod and lifted it, twisting forward to study the blocky delta letter. He meant to brand her like a cow.
Wordlessly, she reached above him and angled the rod in such a way that it rested upon the side table, the iron brand making its home in the small flame of the oil lamp. The man tried to crane his neck to see what she was doing. She let him. When he caught sight of the rod, he bellowed around his gag and wiggled, nearly unseating Aea in the process. She growled low in her chest and pushed his head to the side, cracking his neck. She held him there until he stopped moving.
“What is your name?” she murmured.
Again, she removed his cloth and his words came tumbling out like cast bones. “Frectos of Megaris,” he said. His voice was quivering. She kept the cloth out of his mouth for a few moments, curiosity driving her to risk. He did not scream.
“Why do you not call for help, Frectos?”
She hoped he didn’t, but she would not be scared if he did. Fear wasn’t an emotion she could comprehend at the moment. Only emptiness.
“I—I can lead you to him.”
“And so you believe me that I will not kill you?”
He swallowed. “No, I mean yes, and—”
“And there’s always a chance I was not lying,” she finished. Aea did not know if that was what he meant, but she supplied the answer because she knew he would agree. He nodded.
“And because you deserve it.”
He hesitated, but nodded again when she began to push the rag back.
“I do! I deserve it. I’m sorry for it.”
She didn’t believe his claim. There was no true genuinity behind his words, only rushed pacification. She didn’t like it.
“No, you aren’t. Nor will you be, I suspect,” Aea said. She opened her mouth to say something else, but a sharp knock at the door cut her off.
"Frectos?" A man called from the other side.
She barred the door with the wooden block set beside it before turning and making her way to the bed. Aea kept her eyes upon the man as she took the blade from her cousin. The weight wasn’t right, the texture wasn’t right, it wasn’t her blade, but it was a blade and it would do. The man before her was wide and portly, certainly taller than herself, and though his face might have been handsome in youth, it was tinted red from too much drink and freckled with pockmarks.
When the man saw the knife, his eyes widened and he began to struggle. Apparently he hadn’t believed them. He punched the air and flailed his legs, aiming for Aea and Kaia. The chains rattled violently, causing a raucous din. She didn’t like that. Aea flipped Kaia’s knife and darted into his guard. He caught her in the leg and she was vaguely aware of her muscles burning. She’d have a bruise tomorrow. Quickly, she drove the butt of the knife into the man’s temple. Once, twice. His body twitched and his eyes rolled back. He stilled and fell backwards, but Aea caught him by the hair and kept him upright. He recovered in a few seconds and by then, she had the knife at his throat and although he could kick her legs out from under her, he could not escape so quickly with his arms chained. Kaia would slay him in seconds.
The man’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes darting wildly between she and Kaia. Aea didn’t like that. “Look at me,” she muttered. He did. His eyes were a pretty brown color, like river mud.
He was still now in the way that cornered mice became paralyzed. That would do. She kneed his legs open wide, stepping between them without thought to his big belly bushing against her legs. Wordlessly, she removed his fibulae and the belt holding his weapons and clothing together. He sucked in a breath. She unwrapped his tunic, letting the old thing drop to the bed behind him and leaving him in nothing but worn undergarments. He took another deep breath and Aea pushed his chest with a flat palm, shoving him onto his back.
The chains rattled against the bedpost.
She crawled over his body, draping herself upon his bare stomach like a lounging cat, propping her chin upon a closed fist while her elbow dug uncomfortably into his chest. His wide eyes held panic. It wasn’t enough. Aea reached down with her bladed fist and slipped the sharpened end between the flesh of his hips and the material around it, close enough to his manhood that he would nick it himself if he moved. Sawing carefully, she searched his eyes.
“What was the man’s name? The one who came with me.”
“Moresi.” He breathed, “of Phossis.”
The material fell open and she grabbed it, uncaring that he was just as naked as she. It didn’t register, in any case. Her nerves, usually so sensitive to touch, were deadened in the wake of her hunger for the man’s suffering.
Aea snatched the undergarment and yanked, pulling it from underneath his ass little by little until it was freed. She brought it to his face and pressed the inner layer into his mouth. He resisted at first, but she put pressure into her pinky and ring finger and Kaia’s blade pushed threateningly against his jowls. He opened his mouth and she stuffed the cloth past his teeth. She hoped he liked the taste of his own balls.
“You’re very quick to sell off your accomplices,” she said, “disloyalty is a terrible flaw. Then again...you could be lying.”
He shook his head. She didn’t care if he was.
Aea opened his flesh with the tip of her knife, just a cut, just enough to coax a few beads of blood to the surface of his chin.
“Where are my weapons and clothing?” She took the rag from his mouth just enough that he could quickly get out that they were with the barkeep. Apparently, he was in on the con. What were the odds that she and Kaia had approached a man at random and he happened to be running a con right behind them? Was it the will of the Gods? Were they meant to kill this man?
Aea pushed the cloth back into his mouth and sat up, straddling his belly as if she were a giantess sitting astride a great mountain. She looked over her shoulder and eyed the two weapons laying useless beside his hips. One was a sword, and the other looked like a livestock brand. Her expression was neither surprised nor angry. She reached behind her for the long rod and lifted it, twisting forward to study the blocky delta letter. He meant to brand her like a cow.
Wordlessly, she reached above him and angled the rod in such a way that it rested upon the side table, the iron brand making its home in the small flame of the oil lamp. The man tried to crane his neck to see what she was doing. She let him. When he caught sight of the rod, he bellowed around his gag and wiggled, nearly unseating Aea in the process. She growled low in her chest and pushed his head to the side, cracking his neck. She held him there until he stopped moving.
“What is your name?” she murmured.
Again, she removed his cloth and his words came tumbling out like cast bones. “Frectos of Megaris,” he said. His voice was quivering. She kept the cloth out of his mouth for a few moments, curiosity driving her to risk. He did not scream.
“Why do you not call for help, Frectos?”
She hoped he didn’t, but she would not be scared if he did. Fear wasn’t an emotion she could comprehend at the moment. Only emptiness.
“I—I can lead you to him.”
“And so you believe me that I will not kill you?”
He swallowed. “No, I mean yes, and—”
“And there’s always a chance I was not lying,” she finished. Aea did not know if that was what he meant, but she supplied the answer because she knew he would agree. He nodded.
“And because you deserve it.”
He hesitated, but nodded again when she began to push the rag back.
“I do! I deserve it. I’m sorry for it.”
She didn’t believe his claim. There was no true genuinity behind his words, only rushed pacification. She didn’t like it.
“No, you aren’t. Nor will you be, I suspect,” Aea said. She opened her mouth to say something else, but a sharp knock at the door cut her off.
"Frectos?" A man called from the other side.
Kaia watched silently as Aea took the blade and went to work removing the man’s clothing. Even though she was unarmed, Kaia still stood poised, ready to move if anything should go sideways again. She didn’t like not having a weapon on her in such a hostile situation, but Aea was armed. Kaia was more confident with a weapon than without, but she was not completely useless at using her hands if needed. She was confident in her bounds though. That piece of filth would not be breaking out without her or Aea allowing it.
At least now they had a name. Moresi of Phossis. If the gods favoured him in any way, he would be long gone by now. If not, then Kaia hoped to find him again. She would look for him and she would watch the fear and life drain from his eyes for what he tried to do to Kaia’s Aea.
There was plenty Kaia did not know about the world, and she was reasonably aware of that. She knew she did not lead a normal life for a girl her age. She knew that plenty of the things she did would have her thrown in prison, or hung. She knew that the world was not a fair place and that she needed to fight to keep herself and her family out of the ravenous clutches of poverty. Long ago, she stopped feeling guilty for her actions if they served to protect or provide for her family. Survival was an easy choice to make. In saying that though, Kaia liked to think she did still have morals. For one, she valued her family above all else. Not everyone got a fair footing in life, so they had to take what they could, how they could. Slavery though, there was nothing honorable or remotely humane about that.
Moresi of Phossis would learn the error of his ways, just as the film under Aea would very soon. They profited over selling human lives to others who were too lazy to look after themselves. That kind of ownership was abhorrent and far worse than anything Kaia could ever do to another person. She didn’t know what it took to be so immune to human decency, that taking the freedom and autonomy from a person would seem like a plausible thing to do. Kaia could understand that there was money in the slave trade, but there were other ways to get money—better ways. She and her family were proof enough of that. Perpetuating the slave trade was just an act of cruel injustice and Kaia had no sympathy for anyone who could sleep at night after having any part in it.
Discovering that the barkeep was also in on the whole affair filled Kaia with fury. How many other people had come to the seemingly harmless tavern, only to be stripped of everything that made them a person? The realisation that she and Aea needed to leave sooner rather than later was becoming more and more evident. So far, they were still in control of the situation, but they were greatly outnumbered if anyone else should come check on them. However, Kaia was not about to rush Aea yet. The filth beneath Aea had not yet paid dearly enough for his intentions. Kaia would at that point, rather die than let him escape without proper punishment. If it came to it, and her death meant that she took down one more asshole with her, then it would be worth it. Alive though, Kaia could do so much more. She would never be able to abolish slavery throughout all of Greece, but she wouldn’t turn away from it either.
“What is your name?” “Frectos of Megaris.” “Why do you not call for help, Frectos?”
Kaia’s gaze drifted to the sword at Frectos’ hip. If he dared scream, Kaia would have that blade buried in his throat well before anyone could save him.
Kaia’s scowl twisted in disgust as Frectos tried to tell Aea what he thought she wanted to hear. He was pathetic, then again there was no surprise there. One had to be pathetic to be willing to profit on the exchange of human freedom. No upstanding citizen should be able to fathom the idea of slaves. The harsh reality though was that they did.
When a knock at the door ripped through the quiet of the room, Kaia darted to the side of the bed and snatched the man’s sword. With her stormy eyes full of fire, she pressed the tip threateningly against his flaccid dick, ignoring the way he flinched.
“Call out and tell him everything is fine,” Kaia hissed quietly, not taking her eyes off of his. “Or I’ll cut it off.”
Kaia had only seen two manhoods in her time, but both had been standing to attention. They were awkwardly obtrusive and obnoxious appendages in appearance at the best of times, but looking at Frectos’ small, stout, flaccid little thing was more disgusting than not. It didn’t matter. He was still a man and she had no doubt that he’d soon rather see his hand removed than his pitiful little dick.
”Everything’s fine,” Frectos called out.
“Are you certain—”
Kaia gave a warning tilt of her head. Frectos needed to get rid of the other man now if he wanted to remain a man.
”Just fucking go! I’m nearly done!” Frectos called back. There was silence, before the sound of retreating footsteps. Kaia gave a slow exhale and slowly took the tip of the sword away from his private parts. Wordlessly, Kaia turned her attention back to Aea. They needed to hurry up and go, and quickly if they wanted to get out alive. Frectos hadn’t paid enough yet for what he’d intended to do. Still without speaking, Kaia took the brand out of the flame and offered the rod to Aea. If not her, then Kaia would more than happily use it on Frectos.
Lani
Kaia
Lani
Kaia
Awards
First Impressions:Lean, athletic; Straw-blonde hair, stormy blue eyes, and a nearly permanent scowl.
Address: Your
Kaia watched silently as Aea took the blade and went to work removing the man’s clothing. Even though she was unarmed, Kaia still stood poised, ready to move if anything should go sideways again. She didn’t like not having a weapon on her in such a hostile situation, but Aea was armed. Kaia was more confident with a weapon than without, but she was not completely useless at using her hands if needed. She was confident in her bounds though. That piece of filth would not be breaking out without her or Aea allowing it.
At least now they had a name. Moresi of Phossis. If the gods favoured him in any way, he would be long gone by now. If not, then Kaia hoped to find him again. She would look for him and she would watch the fear and life drain from his eyes for what he tried to do to Kaia’s Aea.
There was plenty Kaia did not know about the world, and she was reasonably aware of that. She knew she did not lead a normal life for a girl her age. She knew that plenty of the things she did would have her thrown in prison, or hung. She knew that the world was not a fair place and that she needed to fight to keep herself and her family out of the ravenous clutches of poverty. Long ago, she stopped feeling guilty for her actions if they served to protect or provide for her family. Survival was an easy choice to make. In saying that though, Kaia liked to think she did still have morals. For one, she valued her family above all else. Not everyone got a fair footing in life, so they had to take what they could, how they could. Slavery though, there was nothing honorable or remotely humane about that.
Moresi of Phossis would learn the error of his ways, just as the film under Aea would very soon. They profited over selling human lives to others who were too lazy to look after themselves. That kind of ownership was abhorrent and far worse than anything Kaia could ever do to another person. She didn’t know what it took to be so immune to human decency, that taking the freedom and autonomy from a person would seem like a plausible thing to do. Kaia could understand that there was money in the slave trade, but there were other ways to get money—better ways. She and her family were proof enough of that. Perpetuating the slave trade was just an act of cruel injustice and Kaia had no sympathy for anyone who could sleep at night after having any part in it.
Discovering that the barkeep was also in on the whole affair filled Kaia with fury. How many other people had come to the seemingly harmless tavern, only to be stripped of everything that made them a person? The realisation that she and Aea needed to leave sooner rather than later was becoming more and more evident. So far, they were still in control of the situation, but they were greatly outnumbered if anyone else should come check on them. However, Kaia was not about to rush Aea yet. The filth beneath Aea had not yet paid dearly enough for his intentions. Kaia would at that point, rather die than let him escape without proper punishment. If it came to it, and her death meant that she took down one more asshole with her, then it would be worth it. Alive though, Kaia could do so much more. She would never be able to abolish slavery throughout all of Greece, but she wouldn’t turn away from it either.
“What is your name?” “Frectos of Megaris.” “Why do you not call for help, Frectos?”
Kaia’s gaze drifted to the sword at Frectos’ hip. If he dared scream, Kaia would have that blade buried in his throat well before anyone could save him.
Kaia’s scowl twisted in disgust as Frectos tried to tell Aea what he thought she wanted to hear. He was pathetic, then again there was no surprise there. One had to be pathetic to be willing to profit on the exchange of human freedom. No upstanding citizen should be able to fathom the idea of slaves. The harsh reality though was that they did.
When a knock at the door ripped through the quiet of the room, Kaia darted to the side of the bed and snatched the man’s sword. With her stormy eyes full of fire, she pressed the tip threateningly against his flaccid dick, ignoring the way he flinched.
“Call out and tell him everything is fine,” Kaia hissed quietly, not taking her eyes off of his. “Or I’ll cut it off.”
Kaia had only seen two manhoods in her time, but both had been standing to attention. They were awkwardly obtrusive and obnoxious appendages in appearance at the best of times, but looking at Frectos’ small, stout, flaccid little thing was more disgusting than not. It didn’t matter. He was still a man and she had no doubt that he’d soon rather see his hand removed than his pitiful little dick.
”Everything’s fine,” Frectos called out.
“Are you certain—”
Kaia gave a warning tilt of her head. Frectos needed to get rid of the other man now if he wanted to remain a man.
”Just fucking go! I’m nearly done!” Frectos called back. There was silence, before the sound of retreating footsteps. Kaia gave a slow exhale and slowly took the tip of the sword away from his private parts. Wordlessly, Kaia turned her attention back to Aea. They needed to hurry up and go, and quickly if they wanted to get out alive. Frectos hadn’t paid enough yet for what he’d intended to do. Still without speaking, Kaia took the brand out of the flame and offered the rod to Aea. If not her, then Kaia would more than happily use it on Frectos.
Kaia watched silently as Aea took the blade and went to work removing the man’s clothing. Even though she was unarmed, Kaia still stood poised, ready to move if anything should go sideways again. She didn’t like not having a weapon on her in such a hostile situation, but Aea was armed. Kaia was more confident with a weapon than without, but she was not completely useless at using her hands if needed. She was confident in her bounds though. That piece of filth would not be breaking out without her or Aea allowing it.
At least now they had a name. Moresi of Phossis. If the gods favoured him in any way, he would be long gone by now. If not, then Kaia hoped to find him again. She would look for him and she would watch the fear and life drain from his eyes for what he tried to do to Kaia’s Aea.
There was plenty Kaia did not know about the world, and she was reasonably aware of that. She knew she did not lead a normal life for a girl her age. She knew that plenty of the things she did would have her thrown in prison, or hung. She knew that the world was not a fair place and that she needed to fight to keep herself and her family out of the ravenous clutches of poverty. Long ago, she stopped feeling guilty for her actions if they served to protect or provide for her family. Survival was an easy choice to make. In saying that though, Kaia liked to think she did still have morals. For one, she valued her family above all else. Not everyone got a fair footing in life, so they had to take what they could, how they could. Slavery though, there was nothing honorable or remotely humane about that.
Moresi of Phossis would learn the error of his ways, just as the film under Aea would very soon. They profited over selling human lives to others who were too lazy to look after themselves. That kind of ownership was abhorrent and far worse than anything Kaia could ever do to another person. She didn’t know what it took to be so immune to human decency, that taking the freedom and autonomy from a person would seem like a plausible thing to do. Kaia could understand that there was money in the slave trade, but there were other ways to get money—better ways. She and her family were proof enough of that. Perpetuating the slave trade was just an act of cruel injustice and Kaia had no sympathy for anyone who could sleep at night after having any part in it.
Discovering that the barkeep was also in on the whole affair filled Kaia with fury. How many other people had come to the seemingly harmless tavern, only to be stripped of everything that made them a person? The realisation that she and Aea needed to leave sooner rather than later was becoming more and more evident. So far, they were still in control of the situation, but they were greatly outnumbered if anyone else should come check on them. However, Kaia was not about to rush Aea yet. The filth beneath Aea had not yet paid dearly enough for his intentions. Kaia would at that point, rather die than let him escape without proper punishment. If it came to it, and her death meant that she took down one more asshole with her, then it would be worth it. Alive though, Kaia could do so much more. She would never be able to abolish slavery throughout all of Greece, but she wouldn’t turn away from it either.
“What is your name?” “Frectos of Megaris.” “Why do you not call for help, Frectos?”
Kaia’s gaze drifted to the sword at Frectos’ hip. If he dared scream, Kaia would have that blade buried in his throat well before anyone could save him.
Kaia’s scowl twisted in disgust as Frectos tried to tell Aea what he thought she wanted to hear. He was pathetic, then again there was no surprise there. One had to be pathetic to be willing to profit on the exchange of human freedom. No upstanding citizen should be able to fathom the idea of slaves. The harsh reality though was that they did.
When a knock at the door ripped through the quiet of the room, Kaia darted to the side of the bed and snatched the man’s sword. With her stormy eyes full of fire, she pressed the tip threateningly against his flaccid dick, ignoring the way he flinched.
“Call out and tell him everything is fine,” Kaia hissed quietly, not taking her eyes off of his. “Or I’ll cut it off.”
Kaia had only seen two manhoods in her time, but both had been standing to attention. They were awkwardly obtrusive and obnoxious appendages in appearance at the best of times, but looking at Frectos’ small, stout, flaccid little thing was more disgusting than not. It didn’t matter. He was still a man and she had no doubt that he’d soon rather see his hand removed than his pitiful little dick.
”Everything’s fine,” Frectos called out.
“Are you certain—”
Kaia gave a warning tilt of her head. Frectos needed to get rid of the other man now if he wanted to remain a man.
”Just fucking go! I’m nearly done!” Frectos called back. There was silence, before the sound of retreating footsteps. Kaia gave a slow exhale and slowly took the tip of the sword away from his private parts. Wordlessly, Kaia turned her attention back to Aea. They needed to hurry up and go, and quickly if they wanted to get out alive. Frectos hadn’t paid enough yet for what he’d intended to do. Still without speaking, Kaia took the brand out of the flame and offered the rod to Aea. If not her, then Kaia would more than happily use it on Frectos.
There was a knock at the door and Aea ducked her head, pressing her hand to the man’s mouth. Kaia moved quick, quicker than Aea could think, and the man’s sword was suddenly between his legs.
“Call out and tell him everything is fine,” Kaia hissed. “Or I’ll cut it off.”
A pause, then the slow clap of footsteps as the other man moved steadily away. Aea stuffed the gag back in his mouth and tied it down. There was movement again, and then an iron rod was in front of Aea’s face. Her fingers wrapped around the metal, rough and old against her palms. She tilted her head ever so slightly and without thinking, without considering whether they had time enough, she gave the man a glossy-eyed stare and watched his twisting expression as she pressed the delta symbol into his forehead.
He shouted around his gag and his head shook from side to side, but all that did was move the red-hot tip to his eyebrow, singing away black hair and weathered skin. Aea’s lips parted as she watched. It didn’t feel like she was the one doing it.
Quietly, she placed the rod back on the side-table, got off the man, then started collecting his clothes. Far removed from the room, her muscle memory guided her until she was wrapped in a thick tunic that hit her knees, cinched together by the man’s thick leather belt.
Aea grabbed the sword from Kaia and studied it. It didn’t dawn on her that she had a sword, something her father forbade. Not yet, anyway. It would, though, whenever her senses weren’t so overwhelmed. Later, her mind would allow her to process the sheer humiliation and fear held at bay by the will of a psyche that had grown used to protecting its precious contents from breaking.
Aea wanted to let him go and watch him run to the door before she killed him. But she also didn’t care and simply wanted him dead. She didn’t know which wish was greater, or if it could be called a wish. She brought the sword close to his face and watched his eyes widen. He might have screamed, or moved, or closed his eyes, she didn’t know. She wasn’t paying attention to that. The tip of the sword sank through his eye socket like butter and Aea bore down on the handle with both hands until he wasn’t moving anymore.
And then he was dead.
Aea slid the sword back into its sheath, blood still coated thin on the blade. Wordlessly, she turned and made for the door. Her hands grabbed the wooden block and threw it back, her feet carried her in the hallway, and the rest of her body took over the task of delivering her out of the tavern while her mind folded in on itself and hid far from impressions.
At some point, she was outside. Then later, walking out of the city. Some time later, she was at a body of water, mindlessly scrubbing her skin raw with pumice. By the time she was dressed in her own clothes, her mind had crept hesitantly back to the present and she realized where she was, what had happened, but she didn’t remember the journey back home. She didn’t know where Kaia was.
She remembered the moment she realized she'd been tricked. The fear of death clawing at her from the inside out. She remembered being naked, knowing that somebody had seen her bare. Wondering if they laughed or grew nauseous at the sight. The moment she realized she was caught like a doomed hare, that her life was at an end even without death. Remembering her cowardice. She'd been scared, and she succumbed to it. Lied down to her fate. Had Kaia not been there, she would have already been in the mines and whipped until she performed her work to satisfaction.
She'd been weak. Stupid. She didn’t want to cry. She hated crying. She had no right to be upset because she'd put herself in that situation. She wouldn't cry. She was good at not crying. Mind over all. She didn’t die, so she had no reason to cry. She didn’t understand why she would want to cry, or need to. She was alive. And maybe sometimes she didn’t want to be, but she was now. Her feelings on the matter and the upset of her stomach didn’t matter. Never did. She would just walk back to her bed and forget about everything. Move on.
Quietly, she folded her legs to her chest and laid on her side, staring at moving water she couldn’t see in the dark of the forest. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t ever put herself in that position again. She wouldn’t ever be that stupid again. She wasn’t meant to do things other than kill. Wasn’t worthy of it. The gods had made her for no reason but slaughter, and should she deviate from that, she would be punished. If she wanted it, she would be hurt. If she tried, she would die. She just didn’t know why, and she didn’t know what she could do to change it—if she could at all. She didn’t know if she could stop wanting to change it, but she would have to.
Aea thought about the man. The memory of his face was lost among countless others, as was his name. Did he deserve to die, or was he simply doing what he could to survive? Did he take pleasure in hurting people, or did he just resign himself to fate? Did it matter? Maybe she was just like him. Maybe one day she would be stealing people and selling them. She was no person, after all, so what did ethics or pride mean to her in the face of necessity?
Aea did not want to be here anymore. Tired of thinking. Tired of feeling. Just...tired. Knowing that what just happened was not of consequence, that it should be easy to simply brush off and move on. Hating that she wasn’t strong enough to do it. There was no anger or indignation, no fury. Just naked embarrassment, shame, and regret. She wouldn’t be able to look at Kaia after this. Not until she could bury the raw memory. She wanted to. She felt safe with Kaia. She shouldn’t need someone to feel safe, though.
Just bury it. It was the past. She was alive. Mind over all. It had been her fault for trusting the situation and humoring the possibility that she could lose herself in the moment. She didn’t want to. She didn’t care. She desired nothing and nobody. Wanted no part of anything but death. That was her purpose, and she latched onto it, found comfort in it. She could belong there.
Slowly, she got to her feet and filled her head with every memory of blood she had. Her feet carried her back to camp, where everyone was still fast asleep. The embers of the fire were no more than glowing coals. Aea’s eyes landed on Uncle Gatheron and for a moment, she considered huddling under his blanket with him. He understood her the way nobody else could. He would know what to do, what she needed. He wouldn’t get angry at her for nestling into his arms like a child.
She didn’t need him though. She’d buried the memory. It had never even happened.
She crept to her usual spot between her father and uncle Dasmo instead. She lifted her thin blanket, laid her head on the ground, curled onto her side, and forced her tired mind to sleep. Everything was fine. In the morning, she would have no more thoughts about anything other than her duties. Let this be the end of childish foolishness. She had no need of anything other than killing. A mechanism, a weapon. Not a human. Just steel and iron. No needs. No emotions. No name. Only the cold logic of death.
Arra
Aea
Arra
Aea
Awards
First Impressions:Hourglass; Glossy black hair that falls to her hips, piercing blue eyes, a voluptuous figure, and a serious, concentrated expression.
Address: Your
First Impressions:Hourglass; Glossy black hair that falls to her hips, piercing blue eyes, a voluptuous figure, and a serious, concentrated expression.
Address: Your
There was a knock at the door and Aea ducked her head, pressing her hand to the man’s mouth. Kaia moved quick, quicker than Aea could think, and the man’s sword was suddenly between his legs.
“Call out and tell him everything is fine,” Kaia hissed. “Or I’ll cut it off.”
A pause, then the slow clap of footsteps as the other man moved steadily away. Aea stuffed the gag back in his mouth and tied it down. There was movement again, and then an iron rod was in front of Aea’s face. Her fingers wrapped around the metal, rough and old against her palms. She tilted her head ever so slightly and without thinking, without considering whether they had time enough, she gave the man a glossy-eyed stare and watched his twisting expression as she pressed the delta symbol into his forehead.
He shouted around his gag and his head shook from side to side, but all that did was move the red-hot tip to his eyebrow, singing away black hair and weathered skin. Aea’s lips parted as she watched. It didn’t feel like she was the one doing it.
Quietly, she placed the rod back on the side-table, got off the man, then started collecting his clothes. Far removed from the room, her muscle memory guided her until she was wrapped in a thick tunic that hit her knees, cinched together by the man’s thick leather belt.
Aea grabbed the sword from Kaia and studied it. It didn’t dawn on her that she had a sword, something her father forbade. Not yet, anyway. It would, though, whenever her senses weren’t so overwhelmed. Later, her mind would allow her to process the sheer humiliation and fear held at bay by the will of a psyche that had grown used to protecting its precious contents from breaking.
Aea wanted to let him go and watch him run to the door before she killed him. But she also didn’t care and simply wanted him dead. She didn’t know which wish was greater, or if it could be called a wish. She brought the sword close to his face and watched his eyes widen. He might have screamed, or moved, or closed his eyes, she didn’t know. She wasn’t paying attention to that. The tip of the sword sank through his eye socket like butter and Aea bore down on the handle with both hands until he wasn’t moving anymore.
And then he was dead.
Aea slid the sword back into its sheath, blood still coated thin on the blade. Wordlessly, she turned and made for the door. Her hands grabbed the wooden block and threw it back, her feet carried her in the hallway, and the rest of her body took over the task of delivering her out of the tavern while her mind folded in on itself and hid far from impressions.
At some point, she was outside. Then later, walking out of the city. Some time later, she was at a body of water, mindlessly scrubbing her skin raw with pumice. By the time she was dressed in her own clothes, her mind had crept hesitantly back to the present and she realized where she was, what had happened, but she didn’t remember the journey back home. She didn’t know where Kaia was.
She remembered the moment she realized she'd been tricked. The fear of death clawing at her from the inside out. She remembered being naked, knowing that somebody had seen her bare. Wondering if they laughed or grew nauseous at the sight. The moment she realized she was caught like a doomed hare, that her life was at an end even without death. Remembering her cowardice. She'd been scared, and she succumbed to it. Lied down to her fate. Had Kaia not been there, she would have already been in the mines and whipped until she performed her work to satisfaction.
She'd been weak. Stupid. She didn’t want to cry. She hated crying. She had no right to be upset because she'd put herself in that situation. She wouldn't cry. She was good at not crying. Mind over all. She didn’t die, so she had no reason to cry. She didn’t understand why she would want to cry, or need to. She was alive. And maybe sometimes she didn’t want to be, but she was now. Her feelings on the matter and the upset of her stomach didn’t matter. Never did. She would just walk back to her bed and forget about everything. Move on.
Quietly, she folded her legs to her chest and laid on her side, staring at moving water she couldn’t see in the dark of the forest. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t ever put herself in that position again. She wouldn’t ever be that stupid again. She wasn’t meant to do things other than kill. Wasn’t worthy of it. The gods had made her for no reason but slaughter, and should she deviate from that, she would be punished. If she wanted it, she would be hurt. If she tried, she would die. She just didn’t know why, and she didn’t know what she could do to change it—if she could at all. She didn’t know if she could stop wanting to change it, but she would have to.
Aea thought about the man. The memory of his face was lost among countless others, as was his name. Did he deserve to die, or was he simply doing what he could to survive? Did he take pleasure in hurting people, or did he just resign himself to fate? Did it matter? Maybe she was just like him. Maybe one day she would be stealing people and selling them. She was no person, after all, so what did ethics or pride mean to her in the face of necessity?
Aea did not want to be here anymore. Tired of thinking. Tired of feeling. Just...tired. Knowing that what just happened was not of consequence, that it should be easy to simply brush off and move on. Hating that she wasn’t strong enough to do it. There was no anger or indignation, no fury. Just naked embarrassment, shame, and regret. She wouldn’t be able to look at Kaia after this. Not until she could bury the raw memory. She wanted to. She felt safe with Kaia. She shouldn’t need someone to feel safe, though.
Just bury it. It was the past. She was alive. Mind over all. It had been her fault for trusting the situation and humoring the possibility that she could lose herself in the moment. She didn’t want to. She didn’t care. She desired nothing and nobody. Wanted no part of anything but death. That was her purpose, and she latched onto it, found comfort in it. She could belong there.
Slowly, she got to her feet and filled her head with every memory of blood she had. Her feet carried her back to camp, where everyone was still fast asleep. The embers of the fire were no more than glowing coals. Aea’s eyes landed on Uncle Gatheron and for a moment, she considered huddling under his blanket with him. He understood her the way nobody else could. He would know what to do, what she needed. He wouldn’t get angry at her for nestling into his arms like a child.
She didn’t need him though. She’d buried the memory. It had never even happened.
She crept to her usual spot between her father and uncle Dasmo instead. She lifted her thin blanket, laid her head on the ground, curled onto her side, and forced her tired mind to sleep. Everything was fine. In the morning, she would have no more thoughts about anything other than her duties. Let this be the end of childish foolishness. She had no need of anything other than killing. A mechanism, a weapon. Not a human. Just steel and iron. No needs. No emotions. No name. Only the cold logic of death.
There was a knock at the door and Aea ducked her head, pressing her hand to the man’s mouth. Kaia moved quick, quicker than Aea could think, and the man’s sword was suddenly between his legs.
“Call out and tell him everything is fine,” Kaia hissed. “Or I’ll cut it off.”
A pause, then the slow clap of footsteps as the other man moved steadily away. Aea stuffed the gag back in his mouth and tied it down. There was movement again, and then an iron rod was in front of Aea’s face. Her fingers wrapped around the metal, rough and old against her palms. She tilted her head ever so slightly and without thinking, without considering whether they had time enough, she gave the man a glossy-eyed stare and watched his twisting expression as she pressed the delta symbol into his forehead.
He shouted around his gag and his head shook from side to side, but all that did was move the red-hot tip to his eyebrow, singing away black hair and weathered skin. Aea’s lips parted as she watched. It didn’t feel like she was the one doing it.
Quietly, she placed the rod back on the side-table, got off the man, then started collecting his clothes. Far removed from the room, her muscle memory guided her until she was wrapped in a thick tunic that hit her knees, cinched together by the man’s thick leather belt.
Aea grabbed the sword from Kaia and studied it. It didn’t dawn on her that she had a sword, something her father forbade. Not yet, anyway. It would, though, whenever her senses weren’t so overwhelmed. Later, her mind would allow her to process the sheer humiliation and fear held at bay by the will of a psyche that had grown used to protecting its precious contents from breaking.
Aea wanted to let him go and watch him run to the door before she killed him. But she also didn’t care and simply wanted him dead. She didn’t know which wish was greater, or if it could be called a wish. She brought the sword close to his face and watched his eyes widen. He might have screamed, or moved, or closed his eyes, she didn’t know. She wasn’t paying attention to that. The tip of the sword sank through his eye socket like butter and Aea bore down on the handle with both hands until he wasn’t moving anymore.
And then he was dead.
Aea slid the sword back into its sheath, blood still coated thin on the blade. Wordlessly, she turned and made for the door. Her hands grabbed the wooden block and threw it back, her feet carried her in the hallway, and the rest of her body took over the task of delivering her out of the tavern while her mind folded in on itself and hid far from impressions.
At some point, she was outside. Then later, walking out of the city. Some time later, she was at a body of water, mindlessly scrubbing her skin raw with pumice. By the time she was dressed in her own clothes, her mind had crept hesitantly back to the present and she realized where she was, what had happened, but she didn’t remember the journey back home. She didn’t know where Kaia was.
She remembered the moment she realized she'd been tricked. The fear of death clawing at her from the inside out. She remembered being naked, knowing that somebody had seen her bare. Wondering if they laughed or grew nauseous at the sight. The moment she realized she was caught like a doomed hare, that her life was at an end even without death. Remembering her cowardice. She'd been scared, and she succumbed to it. Lied down to her fate. Had Kaia not been there, she would have already been in the mines and whipped until she performed her work to satisfaction.
She'd been weak. Stupid. She didn’t want to cry. She hated crying. She had no right to be upset because she'd put herself in that situation. She wouldn't cry. She was good at not crying. Mind over all. She didn’t die, so she had no reason to cry. She didn’t understand why she would want to cry, or need to. She was alive. And maybe sometimes she didn’t want to be, but she was now. Her feelings on the matter and the upset of her stomach didn’t matter. Never did. She would just walk back to her bed and forget about everything. Move on.
Quietly, she folded her legs to her chest and laid on her side, staring at moving water she couldn’t see in the dark of the forest. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t ever put herself in that position again. She wouldn’t ever be that stupid again. She wasn’t meant to do things other than kill. Wasn’t worthy of it. The gods had made her for no reason but slaughter, and should she deviate from that, she would be punished. If she wanted it, she would be hurt. If she tried, she would die. She just didn’t know why, and she didn’t know what she could do to change it—if she could at all. She didn’t know if she could stop wanting to change it, but she would have to.
Aea thought about the man. The memory of his face was lost among countless others, as was his name. Did he deserve to die, or was he simply doing what he could to survive? Did he take pleasure in hurting people, or did he just resign himself to fate? Did it matter? Maybe she was just like him. Maybe one day she would be stealing people and selling them. She was no person, after all, so what did ethics or pride mean to her in the face of necessity?
Aea did not want to be here anymore. Tired of thinking. Tired of feeling. Just...tired. Knowing that what just happened was not of consequence, that it should be easy to simply brush off and move on. Hating that she wasn’t strong enough to do it. There was no anger or indignation, no fury. Just naked embarrassment, shame, and regret. She wouldn’t be able to look at Kaia after this. Not until she could bury the raw memory. She wanted to. She felt safe with Kaia. She shouldn’t need someone to feel safe, though.
Just bury it. It was the past. She was alive. Mind over all. It had been her fault for trusting the situation and humoring the possibility that she could lose herself in the moment. She didn’t want to. She didn’t care. She desired nothing and nobody. Wanted no part of anything but death. That was her purpose, and she latched onto it, found comfort in it. She could belong there.
Slowly, she got to her feet and filled her head with every memory of blood she had. Her feet carried her back to camp, where everyone was still fast asleep. The embers of the fire were no more than glowing coals. Aea’s eyes landed on Uncle Gatheron and for a moment, she considered huddling under his blanket with him. He understood her the way nobody else could. He would know what to do, what she needed. He wouldn’t get angry at her for nestling into his arms like a child.
She didn’t need him though. She’d buried the memory. It had never even happened.
She crept to her usual spot between her father and uncle Dasmo instead. She lifted her thin blanket, laid her head on the ground, curled onto her side, and forced her tired mind to sleep. Everything was fine. In the morning, she would have no more thoughts about anything other than her duties. Let this be the end of childish foolishness. She had no need of anything other than killing. A mechanism, a weapon. Not a human. Just steel and iron. No needs. No emotions. No name. Only the cold logic of death.
