《Shackled Dreams》 Chapter One: Welcome to The Pit The laughter wasn¡¯t something to enjoy during rest. Amari had learned long ago that the cruel comfort of pleasant dreams only made reality all the more bitter when she awoke. Yet here she was. Her eyes were that of a child¡¯s, smiling up at the face of her mother and father. They sat around a simple wooden dining table, with bowls of gruel, bread, and well water. There were small chunks of meat in the gruel, perhaps rabbit or field mouse. She couldn¡¯t tell, nor did she really care to remember it much anymore. What was once a happy dream, a place of safety and comfort, was now nothing more than a biting reminder of what had been lost. Her eyes gazed at her father, trying to remember if her dreams accurately portrayed his features. His glowing red eyes radiated warmth as he smiled at her. No, that wasn¡¯t right. His eyes were an icy blue that made her feel safe¡­ No, that wasn¡¯t right either. She watched as his eyes shifted color, trying to recall what they were. Until finally they took on a soft ember like yellow, and it caused her to relax. The horns on his head, and an impish tail the color of ash were large details she could recall. What was it the humans had called them? Demon-kin? Infernals? Abomination The word shot through her head painfully as she saw her mother with the same features. Though her eyes she remembered better than the others. A soft pink with blackened sclera, horns curled like goats, and a forked tail the same color as her crimson skin. Abomination was a strange word when to her, her mother just looked normal. Amari¡¯s own ashen skin seemed normal to her, albeit different from the humans. Different from the elves or the ogres. Different than many that stood against creatures as vile as Demons. But they weren¡¯t demons. She knew this. She had prayed to the gods and they had not smitten her when she entered their temple in the village. Who was the god she prayed to though? His name escaped her. Was it a goddess maybe? Carrathus The words split through her head as if someone screamed them. That wasn¡¯t the deity she once knew. Carrathus was a god of war, battle, and honor. She was a child when this dream was real, what did she know of war? No, it must''ve been something else. One thing troubled her still. She looked at her older brother, and his face was blank. No eyes or mouth, no horns, nothing. The dream had long since forgotten his features, and now she feared she too was forgetting what he had looked like. But it didn¡¯t really matter. The dream was coming to its conclusion. Suddenly she was warm. Staring at the burning remains of her home as the clanking of chains barely registered in her mind. Her parents lay slashed to ribbons just on the steps of their small little cottage. Their gardens uprooted, their storehouse looted, and their two cows butchered for meat. The clinking of metal finished with a sickening click as she felt a weight around her neck. It was choking as she was tugged away, barely able to understand what was happening as she was dragged by the neck to follow a black stallion. The chain around her neck connected to the gray gauntlet of some soldier atop the steed. What was he? Were his ears pointed? Was he an orc? No, he was too slender. Perhaps he was a dark elf? This whole thing was cruel, and so were they. No, were they? They said her kind were all corrupt creatures, but that wasn¡¯t true. So perhaps she shouldn¡¯t judge. Why was he doing this? Why were dozens of other soldiers in mismatched gear doing this to her village? She saw other children, teens, and young adults chained and being carted along. There was no understanding any of it. Wake up. Amari¡¯s eyes opened upon hearing the sound of wet boots on rough stone. She sat up, holding a small knife and immediately rising from her slumber to ready the weapon. A human stood before her small campfire, hands raised. ¡°Just me, it¡¯s just me.¡± The young man said. His emerald like eyes watched Amari carefully. She too quickly took stock to ensure he was who he said he was. ¡°Flint,¡± She said softly as she recognized his features. Curly brown hair covered in dust and debris. Scruffy facial hair, olive colored skin, and a scar across the cheek. She eyed it, counting one large mark with a darker center. The Warden of their prison had ensured Flint now knew when to make jokes, and when to remain quiet. She relaxed, sighing and holstering her knife before sitting on rough stone. They found themselves deep underground. In a labyrinth of mining tunnels and old ruins. The stench of sulfur, mold, and lavender filled her nose. Lavender? Amari sniffed the air loudly. ¡°Why do I smell Lavender?¡± She asked with a strange monotone energy to her voice. ¡°That would be me, I picked something up recently when they had a few folks in the menagerie scouting out some potential buys.¡± Flint offered before coming to sit near the small fire that burned quite warmly. He held his hands out toward it. His nails were a mess of dirt, dried blood, and bitten off portions of nail. ¡°Besides what I''ve pilfered, I¡¯ve got good news and bad news.¡± ¡°Is it actually good news this time, or is it bad news followed by worse news that¡¯s slightly funny?¡± She asked dryly before wrapping her arms around her legs and staring at Flint. Flint took a moment to think it over as he stared at her. Her orange orbs looked back at him expectantly, even with the terrible bags under them she seemed so alert looking over his shoulder constantly. A horrible burn scar traveled up her neck, stretching far down into the rags they both wore to protect some level of modesty. Amari¡¯s barbed demon-like tail thumbed against the stone, giving away her impatience to hear more. He smiled, as if he was happy to see her. ¡°You know, I always enjoy coming back to our hideout and seeing you here.¡± ¡°You didn''t answer the question... Whatever. I told you I wouldn¡¯t leave. Why would I?¡± She raised a brow, looking at him as though he tried to argue the sky was actually purple. ¡°Lotta the rank and file say that. But another Specialist? Well you can¡¯t really ever trust them.¡± Flint shrugged as his stomach grumbled. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s only been-¡± Flint stopped talking as a piece of stale bread was shoved into his face. Her frown spoke lectures despite what few words she chose to share. ¡°You haven¡¯t eaten yet.¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine, really, I¡¯m just-¡± Flint stopped as the bread was practically shoved into his mouth. Amari frowned before letting go of the bread that Flint finally took hold of. ¡°If you say ¡®I¡¯m just tired,¡¯ I¡¯ll hit you. Hard.¡± It caused a soft laugh to come from Flint. His aching body had seen more than enough trauma for today. Down in these tunnels where the rest of the slaves stayed it was a fight for survival. Food was dropped in only once every three days, and many were expected to fight to take it if they weren¡¯t a part of one of the pseudo ¡®families¡¯ that controlled territory down here. But it was by design. The slaves here were not just workers, they were soldiers. Soldiers trained since childhood to follow orders and survive. Every day was a test down here in these old tunnels. Their owner ensured the weak and hesitant perished quickly. It¡¯s what made Amari all the more confused why she cared so much for Flint. Theirs was a strange relationship of a few years now, born from a mutual distrust and hatred of others. From time spent in these dark tunnels beneath the earth as well. There was a time Amari wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to slice the neck of anyone, young or old, for a chunk of bread. Now here she was, sharing resources with a human she could call¡­ Something. Friend was too heavy of a word. There were many so-called friends down here that always wanted something. Her food. Her fuel. Her body. She would give nothing, and instead take from those that thought of her as an easy target. Her mind continued to swirl with dark thoughts before a piece of bread was thrown at her chest. It thunked lightly before falling to her leg where she grabbed it, preventing it from hitting the ground. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Her glare was brought up to Flint who grinned at her. ¡°Did you hear anything I just said, or your head all up in the stars again?¡± That smiling face tore her glare away, and she couldn¡¯t comprehend why. Instead a blank expression took hold again and she leaned back against the cold stone of this little room they camped in. She nibbled on the bread. ¡°No. Continue please.¡± ¡°My pleasure. I was saying that it¡¯s rare to meet another Specialist that speaks truthfully. I¡¯m so used to schemes, back tunnel deals, and well¡­ You know how it is. It¡¯s just nice you¡¯re not like that.¡± Flint bit into the bread he¡¯d been given. Specialist. That was their title, and for the longest time their name. Of course his name would be the brand on his arm. Specialist 24-13-04. Batch 24, number 13, designation 04, meaning his job was specialized in sabotaging defenses, repairing equipment, and laying traps. Meanwhile Amari¡¯s eyes drifted to the brand on her arm. 25-56-07. Batch 25, number 56, designation 07; the number that told buyers she was a pack mule, a strong arm, and a shock trooper. First one in, last one out. Her kind had very low life expectancy on the battlefield, but Amari had lasted many years now. Too many. She couldn¡¯t remember her age exactly, but somewhere in her mid twenties had to be correct. She might as well be a withered grandmother based on the usual lifespan of other seven''s down here. The number always made her chuckle quietly. She wouldn¡¯t dare make the sound aloud, as such things had been beaten from her ages ago. But her small stature always made her confused why she had been chosen for this role. She barley came up to Flint''s shoulders with her horns. It had to have been her strength. The mage that owned them had long since invested himself in her cultivation when he noticed her prowess for hitting things as hard as she could. She gripped her hand tightly into a fist feeling the muscles pulse with power. She could lift a horse over her head, rip off an arm, or beat a dwarf to death with another dwarf; the last she knew all of this from experience. This unnatural power was flowing through her veins, all from¡­ She stopped thinking. The memories of such enhancements caused her to freeze before she looked back to Flint. She didn¡¯t want to think of this. ¡°I don¡¯t like liars. I said I would stay. I don¡¯t lie, ever.¡± She huffed before finishing her piece of the bread. ¡°What did you hear from the Menagerie?¡± ¡°Well-¡± Amari held up a hand. ¡°Please start with the bad news first.¡± Flint nodded, seeming to settle down and adopt a more serious look as he looked into the hungry flames of their starving little fire. ¡°Word is, Count Odvos is here again.¡± He noticed Amari twitch. It was barely a flick, not noticed by any pair of lesser eyes. ¡°He wants three Specialists. Along with a unit of twelve rank and file. Magus Lorminus is searching for the right group to handle this job. I hear it''s important guard duty." ¡°I despise him.¡± She said flatly. "Count Odvos is a pig." ¡°That¡¯s the bad news.¡± Flint nodded. ¡°And the good news?¡± She asked, not even a shimmer of hope in her voice for what this could be. ¡°The good news is, Runt and Sabre died recently in a mining accident. Crushed to death by falling rock. After that, Brick was eaten by the pale ones in the deep tunnels, and finally¡­ Twitchy was just poisoned to death by a disgruntled victim of his. Apparently she didn¡¯t forgive him for making tainted drugs. So,¡± Flint trailed off as Amari looked back into the fire. ¡°That pig that wouldn¡¯t stop staring will more than likely hire me.¡± She sighed. The name of Count Odvos forced her mind to see his visage. Rotund, plump, wriggling fat mounted onto a man that wore too many imported furs with too much wartime gold. She was a soldier, and at one time had been leased to him to slay his enemies, guard his life and treasures, and obey without question. This disgusting beast knew she could not disobey, and enjoyed making a game of humiliation against an Infernal like herself. ¡°Us.¡± Flint suddenly pulled her up from the muck of her pained thoughts. For a moment, Flint swore he saw what looked like relief in her eyes. ¡°Us. The Count is cousin to the late King Heinsel. The King¡¯s youngest son is said to be visiting soon in order to strengthen ties with Count Odvos. In the hopes that he¡¯ll continue to defend the Eastern border from raids.¡± ¡°So?¡± Amari inquired. ¡°He¡¯ll need an engineer. I¡¯m one of the best here, and with Twitchy choking on his own liquefied lungs, I¡¯ll more than likely be purchased too. We just need to make a good impression.¡± Flint said with a sudden proud smile. ¡°Once we¡¯re out, you know what that means.¡± Amari¡¯s hands moved to the iron collar around her neck. It was the same as Flint¡¯s. A sign of their status as property. She looked to his collar, and then back to the fire. ¡°Freedom.¡± ¡°Aye. But first things first, I need to perfect the unlock I¡¯ve been working on. We¡¯ll only get one chance so we¡¯ll need to hope it works.¡± He folded his arms and leaned against the stone wall at his back. ¡°What do you think?¡± Amari thought about the endeavor. Freedom? It was a pipe dream. A small coin of hope in an otherwise oppressive nightmare of hell in the realm. Besides, what would they do? They were soldiers. Flint was handy and could maybe be a blacksmith. But they didn¡¯t understand money, they didn¡¯t understand the world, its people. What would they do? What would they do when hunters were hired to find them? Slavery wasn''t necessarily permitted in this kingdom, but it always tainted the underbelly of black market trade. With a civil war going on among the King''s three sons and daughter, no one would care if a few soldiers showed up with collars around their neck. The ends always justified the means to royals. The questions continued to hammer into her head like an unrelenting storm. Quiet. That voice again pulsed through her mind as it wounded her. But she would dare not flinch. Flint also held still. The sounds of the tunnel were empty save for the odd dripping of water. But then they heard it. A stomp. They didn¡¯t need another word as Flint and Amari quickly moved to cover their base. The fire was snuffed out instantly by Amari patting away at the small flame with her hands. Flint moved a stone to block the entrance, and then they waited as they pressed their body''s each up against the wall. The stomps continued before finally a snarl came through. Silence The voice ached her brain as she nearly held her breath. Amari and Flint pressed themselves up against the wall far from the entrance to their small little hole in the literal wall of these ancient ruins. The stomps continued as low growls came from some sort of creature just a few feet away from their hiding place. ¡°Run!¡± A voice shouted in the tunnels. ¡°Run! Run for your, AH!¡± A scream filled the tunnels, as the disgusting sound of flesh being hacked off echoed across the stone work. The sickening cries from the victim begged for mercy, begged for aid, and finally begged for a mother that would never come. Amari and Flint waited, refusing to make a sound or even flinch as they heard the blood splatter across the walls. More shouts and the sound of running as some unfortunate slaves tried to flee from whatever was hunting them. ¡°Run run little piggies! I¡¯ll carve you up and swallow your meat whole!¡± A monstrous voice cackled. Whatever it was, the beast sounded joyful, happy. It gave chase through the tunnels, its heavy foot stops sloshing through the water, and its mad terrible laughter echoing like something out of a nightmare. Flint and Amari waited. They waited, and waited, for what felt like hours. Their only source of comfort was the odd glowing patch of moss lightning up their little room. Finally a lack of screams confirmed they were free. ¡°This base is compromised. Damn it, I didn¡¯t think the Butcher would be this deep in. We had a good run here in this spot I guess. We¡¯ll find somewhere else. Maybe we can link up in the Nexus and use some of the gems we mined up last week to get some travel rations. What do you think?¡± Flint asked as he looked at Amari. Flee. Run. Escape. The voice said what she wanted to hear, though even if it didn¡¯t she wouldn¡¯t have listened. She wanted freedom, and she would take it no matter who stood in her way. With a stern gaze, Amari looked at Flint and nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll escape. I¡¯m with you, Flint." Chapter 2 - My Home Beneath the Stone When called upon, the collars of Pit slaves would warm up. Letting them know to report to showcase themselves where potential buyers could see them. It was a warning that they had three days to appear before the collars would shrink. Were it not around her own neck, Amari believed it to be interesting in a macabre way. Magic had once been a thing of wonder, fulfilment, and dream-like innocence of hers at a young age. Now though, she despised magic. Mages were always the first to die on the battlefield if she could get to them. They were arguably the most dangerous combatant to deal with. But she found a sickening satisfaction watching them realize that fancy fireballs and bolts of lightning from their fingers couldn¡¯t save them. A sudden movement of rocks caused her to draw two knives, looking down another tunnel. Flint followed her movements, raising a torch up high while raising a small hand crossbow. They waited for a moment, watching as a set of two small eyes watched them from said tunnel mouth. They waited for a moment before lowering their weapons. ¡°Wasp, you can¡¯t sneak up on us like that.¡± Flint said with a heavy sigh. From the tunnel mouth came a young human, he couldn¡¯t have been more than sixteen winters at most. His hair was disheveled and long, covered in dirt, dust, and dried blood. His brown eyes searched Flint and Amari, while his scraggly arms scratched at open sores. His dried lips seemed painful and cracked, but he barely noticed as he cleared his throat. ¡°Just keeping an eye on you, someone said you heard info,¡± the boy started. ¡°Well of course, that¡¯s why you-¡± Flint stopped as Amari marched past him towards Wasp. The boy seemed confused before taking a step back. He seemed fearful and gasped as Amari raised a hand towards him. He shut his eyes, waiting. No matter the bond, in the tunnels it was eat or be eaten, and Wasp was ready to be struck for sneaking around any spying. Yet instead of the pain he was used to from others, he felt a gentle hand upon his head. It stroked his hair and caused him to slowly open his eyes. He was greeted with the sight of Amari now trying to straighten his hair with both hands. She frowned at a patch of dry blood keeping some clumps together. ¡°Yours?¡± She asked. ¡°Uh¡­ No. Water thief. Don¡¯t remember his name, ma¡¯am.¡± Wasp stuttered out. He cleared his throat and coughed. ¡°I-I¡¯m ok, promise.¡± Amari clicked her tongue in annoyance before shoving an old dusty water skin into Wasp¡¯s chest. ¡°Drink, or else.¡± She stated. Even as Wasp slowly took the water skin, Amari continued trying to straighten his hair. Her tired eyes scanning for clumps of debris from the tunnels, or dried blood, and carefully removing them. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do-¡± Wasp started before shutting up. Amari¡¯s glare was enough to keep him quiet and drinking instead. The cool refreshing taste was a godsend. Even if the water came from deep in the tunnels, it was better than the water rations they got elsewhere. ¡°I keep telling you, Wasp. You can¡¯t tell her not to. Now how¡¯d you hear about me hearing things?¡± He inquired. Wasp hungrily drank every last drop, coughing loudly and gasping for air when he was done. Upon realizing what he had done, he sheepishly handed Amari the water skin back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡­ I was thirsty and-¡± her hands moved to gently take the water skin back, and with the grace of one fluid movement she placed it back on a rope belt keeping her rags on. ¡°Good. I told you, it¡¯s fine.¡± Amari said with a more gentle tone before stepping away. It was in no way pretty, nor presentable, but Wasp¡¯s hair was at least better than before. No clumps of dried blood, or less at least, and much less debris from the mining tunnels. ¡°I will still never get used to that.¡± Wasp looked to her before returning his attention to Flint. ¡°I heard things in the Nexus. Lots of others, mostly Rank and File, were talking about how you were buttering up the Magus and his guests. They think you¡¯ve gone soft.¡± He added with a playful smirk. Though he quickly panicked as he heard Amari tightening her first. ¡°B-But it¡¯s all talk of course! You know how we Rank and File are. One starts a rumor because they¡¯re jealous, and suddenly everyone heard something worth a ration bar or sip of water. Not me though, absolutely not!¡± Wasp added, relaxing as he saw Amari calm down. ¡°Well, I wish the Rank and File luck, but this is Specialist business.¡± Flint stated before starting to leave. ¡°Stay outta trouble, Wasp, and don¡¯t take jobs with Boomer anymore.¡± ¡°What? How could you tell?!¡± He yelled as Flint had already left. Amari reached up and rubbed Wasp¡¯s head. Even if he was taller than her, she performed this gesture with a practiced hand, like that of a caregiver so few down here even remembered having. ¡°You have bruises on your arms, Wasp. Boomer is a bad man. Work for Agatha instead. She likes you.¡± Amari said. Even with the usual absence of emotion, Wasp could hear something close to care in her words. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ Boomer pays better. I get a ration bag every other day.¡± Wasp sheepishly replied before Amari removed her hand. It was an involuntary twitch as he moved his head towards her hand if only by a centimeter, but then he quickly pulled back. Amari nodded. ¡°I know. But you can¡¯t eat if you¡¯re dead. Please, for me. Work with Agatha instead.¡± There was a moment of silence before Wasp nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ Look into it.¡± With that, Amari left Wasp who returned back to the tunnels he¡¯d come from. She caught up with Flint, her fiendish eyes easily able to see in the dark and find the light of his torch. Once together, they made their way through quite a journey of tunnels. Every now and again other slaves would be passed. Patrol groups getting their training in to stay fit, mining crews or excavating crews searching for valuable ores, gems, or lost relics in the vast ruins. This place of slavery had been around for nearly three hundred years, Amari had been told, and yet still these ruins stretched ever further underground. Maybe they went on forever. Or maybe the monsters underground killed crews too quickly so they hadn¡¯t made nearly as much progress. Every interaction was different though. Not all these slaves had been raised from childhood. Some were war criminals, convicted, or simply unlucky. Some threatened them, some made crude comments, one even tried their luck to rob them. He lay in two pieces now, as food for whatever creature would skulk through the tunnels. His friends merely left him, not wanting to fight any further. It was survival of the fittest, and thriving of the cruelest down in these winding paths. Still, Amari was grateful for the strange flora that grew along the tunnel walls. Glowing patches of fungus and moss made it easier for Flint to see, and gave them both a better chance at making it to the Nexus. But you can see in the dark, can¡¯t you, demon? That voice again. Amari pondered for a moment if it was a real voice. She¡¯d told Flint of the voice about a year ago. He was smart, the Master invested in his education to ensure he was valuable. Flint told her that so many years alone meant it was a fake voice. She didn¡¯t remember the condition, but she did recall that over a decade alone in this hell forced her brain to make up a voice. That¡¯s what he told her. A fake voice. Am I fake? Of course it was. Flint knew better. But then again, why did she remember this voice even as a child? Too many questions filled her head, but thankfully ceased the moment Flint whistled softly to get her attention. Amari perked up seeing a great deal of light coming from the end of the tunnel they walked through. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± he said while moving to give her room to stand with him at the tunnel entrance. Sin. Excess. How fun. Indeed it was. Here at the center of it all where new slaves arrived. Where the rich friends of the Magus came to view merchandise, and where many survived. The Nexus. A large open area deep underground. High above the rock ceiling were a maze of tunnels and stone bridges leading elsewhere. A large hole above was blocked by machinery that allowed only a trickle of light to breach through. This great machinery was a lift, a way down into the stone city beneath it. Tons of lights burned fuel down in this otherwise darkened maze, with dozens of buildings making a rudimentary city of the poor and oppressed. More of a town, really. What was the difference? She didn¡¯t care to humor the voice. It was a city as far as she was concerned. As Flint and Amari walked through its congested streets, hundreds of slaves offered up their contraband, their finds in the ruins, a brothel even had a few offering their bodies. A small number of wealthy nobles wandered with heavily armed guards. Every now and again they would reach out and grab a slave to examine the merchandise, causing Amari to pull at the patchwork mask on her rags. She had to cover her face. Food arrived here, and work crews traded their finds for the chance to eat, drink, and find comfort in the arms of those paid to give them a night away from the pain. To her it might as well be the capital of the world. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Contraband of weapons, drugs, small pieces of armor, there were many things to be found and bought down here. All approved by the Magus and his Overseers of course. You wouldn¡¯t find thunderstaves or magic wands here. But a decent axe versus the shivs Amari had on her person could make all the difference. Deep in the alleyways she saw many crimes that were simply the norm in their subterranean home. Murder, extortion, worse. All she could do was look away and follow close behind Flint, her mind preoccupied with ignoring the stench of sulfur, human waste, and the fires of forges down here; Forges that churned out ingots and materials for the Master above them on the surface world. There were a few vigilantes that roamed the streets, hoping to make the Nexus safer than it was. There were also many vigilantes rotting away in corners, or even a few hung from the buildings of those with power. Fools. Heroics are so overrated. No they weren¡¯t. Heroes were¡­ Well Heroes were something. She couldn¡¯t quite recall what, and sighed as the thought slipped away from her. Flint and Amari soon stopped in front of a decent looking stone building. It had an actual wooden door on the front of it. ¡°Velvet¡¯s Tea House,¡± Flint said as he read the sign up front. Amari looked up at the scribbles on the sign, kicking herself for not being able to read it as well as she wanted. The Magus had cultivated her fighting abilities. She could read a map, fight a troll, or carry heavy things. Reading signs and books had not been one of these skills, and though Flint tried to teach her, it proved difficult with a lack of resources. ¡°V¡­E¡­L,¡± She started sounding out the letters. ¡°Vel¡­Vet¡­ What¡¯s that one after that last T?¡± She asked. ¡°Apostrophe, you don¡¯t pronounce it.¡± Flint nodded. ¡°You¡¯re doing great.¡± Just then, the sound of fighting erupted from the place. Flint moved to grab the door handle, opened it, and moved out of the way. As if on queue, a large green skinned man was flung out. He slammed into Amari, who was barely pushed back a centimeter or two at most, and the man hit the ground with a hard thud. Amari looked down and blinked as the sight of this large Orchish brute on the ground seemed quite absurd. She looked up at the doorway to see a human man, extremely well built and probably more muscle than anything else. He patted the dust off his hands and scoffed. ¡°Mind your manners next time, you oaf.¡± His voice and accent flowed like a Northern princeling. Rural with just enough sophistication it clashed together like something absurd. A Pig in a clean cape? The voice said, causing Amari to snort audibly. She would have to use that one later. She saw as the human moved aside to make way for another person. A middle aged looking woman, with a curious pair of fox ears sprouting from her head. Her garb seemed nicer than the rags many wore, but was quite revealing. Her hair and ears both had a silvery white color to them that stood out amidst the dark stone building. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the man at Amari¡¯s feet. ¡°Next time you show your face here you better bring more to trade you ingrate! I¡¯m running a business, my girls ain¡¯t free!¡± She shouted. She then looked up at Amari staring at her, and suddenly brightened up as if she¡¯d seen the sun for the first time. ¡°Amari dearest is that you?!¡± Oh great, she¡¯s going to hug you. You? Wouldn¡¯t it be us? The voice was far too active recently. The Orchish man slurred his words and began to rise up, but was soon pushed back into the mud and stone as Amari stepped on him, walked forward, and approached the woman. ¡°Hello Velvet, are you well?¡± The woman jumped passed a step or two and pulled Amari into a warm embrace. It wasn¡¯t unpleasant, but Amari didn¡¯t care for physical touch from many people. Velvet got a free pass, if only because she never stopped trying. It was simply easier not to fight it. She felt the woman¡¯s hand stroke through her hair, and heard her hum happily. ¡°Oh I¡¯m doing well, it¡¯s so good to see you again! You never visit. We still need to finish our game, I have some rare teas we can try as well. Oh and there¡¯s so much to talk about, did you know-¡± It was already overwhelming. Suddenly Flint cleared his throat. Velvet turned to see him and frowned, sighed exasperated, and looked him up and down. ¡°I should¡¯ve known you wouldn¡¯t come to the Nexus on your own. Amari darling you have got to get away from this vagabond. Come live with me, you could work here!¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a whore.¡± Amari stated bluntly. ¡°Escort, darling, escort. Whore is such an ugly word. Besides I¡¯m afraid with your strength you¡¯d snap half my clients in¡­ Well¡­ Half. No, no, come be a guard for me! A bouncer! Lance here could use the backup.¡± Velvet continued. Though she pulled away, she kept her hands on Amari¡¯s shoulders and looked her in the eye hoping for a good answer. ¡°No. I don¡¯t like it here. Too many people. It¡¯s too loud.¡± She said bluntly yet again. But then quickly shook her head. ¡°Sorry. I mean¡­ No thank you, I appreciate it.¡± It took effort and she sighed after correcting herself. ¡°Oh sweetheart,¡± Velvet clapped her hands together lightly. ¡°You¡¯re learning manners so well! Who¡¯s teaching you?¡± ¡°That¡¯d be me,¡± Flint said with a grin. ¡°Flint darling, why don¡¯t you be a dear and go pick up some pickled goods from Vincent¡¯s little grocer?¡± Velvet asked cheerfully. ¡°That¡¯s half way across the Nexus.¡± He folded his arms as he watched Velvet stare at him with a smile. As if it was obvious. ¡°Yes.¡± She finally stated. Amari cleared her throat. ¡°Be nice. He gave you running water. He¡¯s my comrade.¡± Friend was still an ugly word down here. Comrade worked better. They were both soldiers after all. Velvet nodded and smiled warmly at Amari. ¡°Oh dear how could I deny you. What brings you both here anyways?¡± ¡°Flint.¡± Amari stated before rubbing her throat. Talking too much was annoying. ¡°There¡¯s an auction coming up more than likely. We¡¯re aiming to get a little sunshine away from here.¡± Flint replied. ¡°Oh Amari, you need to talk more and get used to it. You can¡¯t go relying on Flint to speak for you forever.¡± Velvet said with a honeyed voice. It was sultry by her vocation, but was sweet and warm to the ears. She spoke while looking at Amari with a bit of a pout. Amari simply blinked and waited in silence for Flint to continue. ¡°Ha, and they say you can¡¯t tell jokes.¡± Velvet turned away to look at Flint and then nodded towards the inside, not noticing as Amari raised a brow at that remark. She could tell jokes, she was funny. Right? ¡°Come on in. Tell me all about it.¡± As they entered the establishment, Amari took in the sights. Three barely clothed human women dancing proactively. Their collars loosely jangled around their necks as a dozen or so men hollered and whistled, throwing dried food or metal ore at their feet. Money wasn¡¯t used in the tunnels, but people always found a way to pay something. The stone tables, stone chairs, stone everything. Wood was such a luxury that the fact Velvet had a wood door was something impressive all its own. She didn¡¯t understand why Rank and File seemed so interested in nakedness. Specialists like her and Flint usually had it, and their personalities, trained out of them. There were anomalies, like Flint¡¯s more laxed personality, but for the most part the concept of sex was foreign and uncared for. Velvet led them to a backroom, whispering something to her Bouncer who nodded. He turned and let Amari and Flint pass before returning to the show room floor. Amari caught sight of the man Lance¡¯s brand, marking him as a Specialist, but couldn¡¯t see his numbers. She guessed he was also a Seven like her. Or maybe he was a Two. Two¡¯s usually wore the heaviest armor and carried massive shields. He looked strong enough for the task. He¡¯d be a good kill. Amari shook her head and focused. The room they were brought to was more of a small office. A metal desk, some holes in the wall carved out for some trinkets and a handful of books. Candle light kept the room bright enough that Velvet and Flint could see. They all sat together around a small metal table where Velvet poured some sort of alcohol into three dirty glass cups. It was the height of luxury, and Amari thanked whatever God watched over her for the chance to drink again. ¡°So tell me, what¡¯s the plan this time?¡± Velvet started after getting comfortable. Time passed and Velvet, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol they¡¯d all been drinking for at least an hour now, chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s your plan? Get hired to guard a little pig of a Count, and then break your collars and run? What about the Catchers the Magus uses? Bounty Hunters? Do you even have a map of the world yet?¡± She inquired. ¡°One step at a time Velvet. Count Odvos probably has a map at his estate. I¡¯ve been perfecting the method too. I can crack the collar off.¡± Flint said confidently. ¡°Perfecting? How?¡± Velvet raised her brow. Flint shrugged. ¡°Find a dead Rank and File, practice taking it off before the collar snaps the neck. ¡°Oh? And how fast are you going? Any success?¡± She further inquired while sipping her drink. ¡°It¡¯s our best shot.¡± Flint retorted before leaning back on the dusty cushions of the couch Velvet had no doubt paid a lot for. Sex Sells. That damned voice again. Since when did it talk so much? Every word was like a headache in itself that suddenly sprung up. ¡°I don¡¯t really care either way. I¡¯m tired of these tunnels. Anywhere is better than here.¡± Amari said softly before sipping her drink again. Her mutations, her enhancements, her body was barely its old self anymore. She didn¡¯t feel the warmth of the alcohol for more than a moment. Tipsy and drunk were foreign concepts she¡¯d never experienced. Maybe she just needed to drink more? There wasn¡¯t much to drink so it wasn¡¯t worth trying. ¡°Oh honey, I know you wanna go anywhere with him, but you know the world isn¡¯t some fairytale. It¡¯s hard out there. I spent decades traveling before I got captured, trust me. It¡¯s awful. ¡°Is this any better?¡± Flint asked, annoyed at her response. Velvet thought for a moment, then sighed. ¡°No I suppose not. I just worry you¡¯ll both get yourselves killed.¡± ¡°Blessed are those that perish to the sword of their choosing, than the sword of those that have chosen for them,¡± Amari said, her words flowing with a trained response, causing Velvet to roll her eyes. ¡°You let Kriv train you too well. Specialist or not, him and his War God are no good to you, Amari. Carrathus isn¡¯t the way to go.¡± Velvet sighed before leaning against the arm of the couch she was on. ¡°Though I suppose there¡¯s no real place for any of the Gods down here. Just¡­ What do you plan to do after? Let¡¯s just say it¡¯s the best case scenario. What then?¡± Flint shrugged. ¡°I suppose Tinkerer. Blacksmith. Maybe get a job in a city.¡± ¡°Uh huh, and you, Amari?¡± Velvet turned to her. We don¡¯t have a plan. Shut up. Stupid voice. ¡°I¡¯ll figure something out. I can work security, be a guard, or something.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Velvet nodded along before downing the rest of her drink. ¡°You two have no idea what you¡¯re doing, you have no plan other than to run. You expect this to work out? You don¡¯t even know how money works, do you?¡± ¡°I know a bit,¡± Flint argued. ¡°I was educated.¡± ¡°And what about Amari?¡± Velvet frowned before looking at Amari. ¡°No offense, of course.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Amari shrugged. But it was true. What was the plan? Escape sure, but after? Jobs? Money? Shelter? They couldn¡¯t just camp in the wilds and survive. That¡¯s not the living they dreamed of. It was just the tunnels all over again, albeit with more sun. Amari wasn¡¯t educated on money, on the day to day of normal people. Neither were trained to build shelter, nor deal with the world. She knew to wake up, scavenge, work, train, and maybe steal if she had to. ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out, please Velvet. The auction is in a few hours. We just need a place to sleep for now. Something to eat. I¡¯ve got some gems stashed away, I can trade for it.¡± Flint requested before placing his glass down on the table. Velvet couldn¡¯t stop them. She knew it. They had discussed freedom for years. Many had. But these two had the skills to maybe make it happen. There were no guarantees in this life, and she really didn¡¯t want to bury another friend or two. With a sigh Velvet placed her glass on the table. ¡°First floor, behind the bar. Take the private room. Get what rest you two can. Just please be careful, and swear to me if you can¡¯t guarantee your safety¡­ You¡¯ll abandon this plan.¡± There was a tense pause in the air, but Flint capitulated and nodded. ¡°Only if it''s guaranteed.¡± With that their time proceeded with both Amari and Flint laying on the rough stone floor behind the bar. There was makeshift bedding, and even two straw pillows. It was comfortable by the standards they were used to down here. Amari¡¯s back ached as she lay on her side. Painful scars on her shoulders where something had been ripped out. She didn¡¯t care to recount the memories of losing something so precious as a child. Her eyes were heavy, her feet ached from walking through the tunnels on rough spun sandals. Exhaustion, but with a mind still sharp and ears listening for any sign of someone opening the cloth door to their room. It would never happen. Velvet¡¯s place was respected, and rule breakers were usually hung by their feet till they died just outside of it. Still, Amari never could feel comfortable. She waited, staring at the dark stone wall in front of her before finally the weight of her eyes forced them shut. She drifted back into the dream once more. This time she saw her fathers eyes were missing, just skin covering where they should have been. What color were they again? She couldn¡¯t remember. Chapter 3 - Sell Your Head High Amari¡¯s eyes opened up the moment she heard Flint stirring. She sat up, brushing back long dark hair out of her face and behind pointed ears. The grogginess of sleep never really left when you could only afford a few hours on rough floors. But it was enough. She moved to sit up, suddenly seeing a metal cup hovering in front of her face. She blinked, seeing the hand holding it, the arm it was attached to, then up to Flint¡¯s face. ¡°Something to wake you up. Velvet got coffee recently from a client.¡± He said with a smile. She took the warm cup and sipped the bitter brown liquid. The warmth, the caffeine, it was a welcome feeling, even if the cup only had a few sips worth of liquid in it. Those few sips may have been a full cup of the finest wine through all the land, and she looked to him with grateful eyes. ¡°Thank you,¡± she muttered softly. Flint knew just a few words from Amari conveyed more than any could guess. Her eyes not looking over his shoulder, her tail at rest, and the fact she closed her eyes when drinking. She was relaxed. That meant the world to him. After getting their bearings, they said their farewell to Velvet, and began to make the journey to the Menagerie. Their collars felt even warmer today, but thankfully they still had plenty of time. It¡¯d only been a day so they took it slow and kept their wits about them. In the tunnels time meant very little, it could be morning, noon, evening, or even the dead of night. Everything down here was lowlight. Deploying after being leased to new clients was always a difficult adjustment period. We¡¯ll manage. The voice whispered, still gripping her brain with tight claws. It was so early that she nearly snapped at it for doing so, but opted to let out a sigh instead. ¡°You tired?¡± Flint asked with slight concern. ¡°I got enough sleep.¡± Amari replied before the sound of broken glass caught her attention. As they passed by another building, the sound of a fight could be heard. It looked like a bar, smelled like one from the outside, and sure enough once they passed it two people came rolling out of the front entrance past the cloth door. They fought, but whatever the outcome would be, Flint and Amari left it behind. ¡°Good. Because I didn¡¯t.¡± Flint gave a short tired laugh. ¡°Let¡¯s hope we can impress.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you sleep well?¡± She inquired, walking by his side as they saw the Menagerie in the distance. High above the stone floor was a sort of viewing port. Glass had been placed to allow potential buyers to see the slaves during their day to day. Said Menagerie wrapped around most of the major areas like the Nexus. Such as a place called the Ramparts, the Gardens, The Vein, and more. Each with their own unique aspects. Amari fondly remembered the Ramparts, a place in the shape of an underground fortress. It was the first and only line of defense against the majority of the Pale Ones. Small grotesque mutants and vicious carnivores native to this underground world. Alone they weren¡¯t much of a problem; but when many attacked even the strongest slave found themselves overwhelmed. Why she slept there so well was an ironic mystery to her. ¡°I was dreaming of the farm again,¡± Flint said with melancholy. It was so serious and different from his usual tone, that Amari perked up almost immediately. Her impish tail flicked as if on alert. The word was like a code, her body tensed up and her cheeks pulled her lips into something she hadn¡¯t felt in many years. It was a small smile, lasting only for the briefest moment in time. But it felt strange and alien. ¡°I just couldn¡¯t stop thinking about it. I dreamed about what it could be. It was bittersweet, and I woke up too early. Couldn¡¯t go back to sleep.¡± They kept pace in silence for a few moments before Amari relaxed. ¡°Tell me more about the Farm, please.¡± She finally mumbled. Without missing a beat, Flint smiled and began. ¡°Four strong walls, made of wood of course. I want it made of Redwood, the books say it¡¯s the strongest wood out there. A beautiful roof made of stone and thatch to keep the weather away. One HUGE open area with plenty of chairs and tables so all of our friends can sit with us. I want a forge out back as well so I can make things. With a little pond with some fish nearby. A wooden fence, oh and of course a garden. We could grow potatoes, beans, maybe some apples too. Apple bushes would be amazing.¡± Flint smiled at the thought. ¡°Trees.¡± Amari said flatly. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Apples grow on trees. Not bushes.¡± She replied, her deadpan state facing forward as her mind filled with the mental image of such a place. ¡°Oh, really? Huh¡­ What grows on bushes then? Was it tomatoes? ¡°I don¡¯t know. I think blueberries grow on bushes. But I can¡¯t remember.¡± Amari shrugged. ¡°Ah¡­ Yeah that makes sense, thank the Gods you¡¯d be there to help. I can¡¯t tell good soil from sand. Ha, ironic considering I can spot the difference between Iriki metal and Mithral with just a glance.¡± He chuckled at himself. For all his education and knowledge, his building prowess too, there were gaps in his knowledge that seemed so simple yet so far away. ¡°A big kitchen, a big garden, and a big orchard too. With several rooms for guests.¡± Amari stated, her stomach suddenly tightening as the lack of food besides yesterday''s bread caused a grumble. Food was sacred in the tunnels, on deployment. A hot meal meant the difference between shell shock and iron will. A hot drink meant the difference between snapping and finding resolve. She¡¯d gathered experience cooking rats and other vermin both in the tunnels and in the trenches. Seeing the smiling faces of other soldiers as warm rat broth or pigeon soup filled their bellies, it brought her the tiniest flicker of hope. Something other than killing, and that something made people happy. She was thankful that over the years on deployments she¡¯d learned from others how to make a decent meal. If not just for herself, for others that gave her comfort during the long nights on watch waiting for the enemy. ¡°Of course, the biggest kitchen possible. I¡¯ll build it so well I bet even the Magus would be jealous.¡± Flint said proudly, a sudden kick in his step that helped him ignore the hunger in his own stomach. The two finally arrived at a lift along the stone walls, guarded by two heavily armed soldiers. Their full plate mail covered their faces and bodies, and each stood quite tall, carrying large weapons. ¡°Eights,¡± Amari mumbled. Their collars hung loosely from their necks, but with that size and armor there was no mistaking the mystical Eights of the underground. Slaves that proved to be exceptional guard dogs were taken away for special training, special enhancements and enchantments. They kept much of their personality, perhaps to make them not appear like wardens to this hellish prison. But they were conditioned with absolute loyalty. Amari recalled watching one cut down a sick child that coughed blood on the Magus¡¯ shoes many years ago. All it took was a flick of his wrist, and one of his Eight¡¯s carried out the task. As she stared into the strange metal that looked almost like a bowl with a few breathing holes in it, she recalled the hatred she felt for them in that moment. Monsters should be killed. The voice grumbled, causing her to twitch. The Eights both looked to her hand that twitched near her small weapons, but Amari quickly corrected that behavior and looked to the ground. Skill be damned, Eights were monsters on the battlefield. She was confident she could survive and run away from one with her lack of gear. But two at this range? Any stupid moves would see her dead right here with no chance. ¡°Business?¡± One of the Eights asked. ¡°Answering the call, sir. Several Specialists have been summoned for an auction just up above. Amari and I have been chosen.¡± He replied. The Eight looked down at them and stared for a moment. ¡°Alright, present your collars. Let me see.¡± He continued. His voice was surprisingly smooth, young even. Eights rarely left their armor, and had separate sleeping quarters on the surface world. Perhaps all that sunlight and fresh air didn¡¯t give him the usual gravel many men¡¯s voices had down here. Who could tell, Amari thought to herself. A monster, but a sweet sounding one. Should bite his throat out. There it was again. These weren¡¯t her thoughts. She buried them and moved to pull at the collar on her neck. It was warm but not blistering hot, thankfully. Many rumors often spread that Infernals, Demonkin, could walk through flames without issue. It was a foolish idea. Amari could handle the heat better than most, but fire still hurt after a while, and white hot metal hurt far more than many understood. The burn scar on her neck ached as she remembered its cruel kiss. Their collars were examined to see they were indeed heating up and shrinking, and the Eight nodded. ¡°Alright you¡¯re clear. You¡¯re lucky you¡¯re early, the Magus is testing your response time. Many buyers are here currently, including a new Princeling from the West.¡± The Eight stated. ¡°How fun, I hope he brought snacks.¡± Flint tried to joke. Much like Amari, the Eights simply stared as if waiting for a punchline. But the one that spoke to them suddenly laughed, ¡°Ha! If he does, drop something sweet down here for me, will ya?¡± Flint nodded and both he and Amari stepped onto the lift behind the Eights. The one that hadn¡¯t spoken this whole interaction moved to pull a level. The machinery hummed to life as the lift guided Amari and Flint upwards to the Menagerie. She braced herself, ready to feel the prodding, poking, and grabbing of perspective buyers. She was somewhat grateful the Magus ensured all buyers knew she was a soldier. Not some pleasure slave. Hands laid on her outside of combat were threatened with punishment only magic could give. It still didn¡¯t mean some found small loopholes, but at least it hadn¡¯t gone beyond a point of no return. We should crucify them, and set it ablaze. Maybe¡­ No. Not now, not here, she shook her head slightly so Flint wouldn¡¯t notice. When the lift was nearly to the wood trap doors above her head, they opened, letting an overwhelming amount of light spill out. It practically blinded them both, and they had been prepared by closing their eyes. The lift finally stopped, and Amari blinked to let her eyes adjust. It was almost too much to bear, the sights and smells, the sounds alone nearly threw her into a frenzy. Music. Music played from a small group of bards in the corner, something fancy that nobles enjoyed. The smell of various cooked meats, meals, and more made her mouth water and her stomach thrash in anger at how little it had enjoyed. Bread was a gift, mushrooms a staple, vegetables and dried meats came with every three days in the tunnels. But fresh cooked meat dripping with juices from the chicken, pork, or beef? It was intoxicating and worthy of dreams. She saw a dozen or so well dressed nobles, laughing and drinking wine. They all seemed so happy, fat, and ripe for ripping apart. Why should they be happy? She agreed with the voice. What gave them the right? What gave them the privilege to dine, drink, and laugh so close to suffering made real just below their feet? Her glare softened as a rather tall woman suddenly stepped in front of them both. Amari knew this woman quite well from previous deployments, though never bothered to remember her name. Amari frowned up at her. The expression was returned as said woman gazed down at Amari. Her pointed ears, slender build, and long flowing blond locks marked her as a High Elf of great respect. She wore no collar, but the whip marks had tasted her flesh before. ¡°Warden.¡± Amari spat. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°I am no Warden, little Amari, I am Nemal. Do try to remember that.¡± The Elf returned the same attitude. ¡°You both are early, like a few others, this will please the Magus. Let¡¯s get you prepared.¡± Nemal snapped her fingers, and a few servants came to guide them away to a room near the lift. Preparation felt disgusting, but it was necessary. Once in this small room with green carpet and ornate wooden walls, Amari stood to the side of Flint. They were turned to face the walls as servants began to disarm and disrobe them both. These servants seemed well fed, well taken care of, and they had no collars. They even looked well washed. They chose to be here. Perhaps they did. Both she and Flint stood bare; they merely waited for the servants to begin. Her eyes glanced at him for a small moment. Scars ran up his arms, across his chest and abdomen. It was the same for her. Several cuts from swords, holes from arrows, and the burn mark from her neck covered almost all of the left side of her body. Save for her face. Servants moved to wash the dirt, grim, and sweat from their bodies. They washed their heads and removed the debris, the blood, perhaps even lice. At least they would if lice could even survive in such a place. There was a moment of comfort as Amari¡¯s long black hair was combed for the first time in months. It felt nice, it felt normal. When they were sufficiently cleaned the servants moved to clothe them in much nicer attire. It was only temporary of course. They both knew this. Once dressed in fairly nice tunics and pants, the servants armored them. They would not be given weapons, but their armor represented what the buyer would be getting. Flint was prepared in leather with various bits of chainmail stitched in. A lighter outfit to let him move around while performing his duties as an engineer. His boots had metal in the tip, a smart decision in case he needed to kick something. Amari was dressed in heavier armor. Still light enough to take advantage of the speed she was known for having, but durable enough that she could perform her duties as a Seven. Maybe it was actually too heavy and her strength just made it seem otherwise? It was a small thing that bothered her every time she was placed in this armor. Neither was given a helmet, for both were arguably attractive to the eyes. A rugged human, and an Infernal woman. Their appearance, like their skills, were necessary to show off to make a good sale. That¡¯s what the Magus always said. Amari and Flint were finally led from the room to a nearby lineup where a handful of other Specialists waited. Amari remembered a few of them, but her eyes drifted back to the party as a glass began to clink. The music died down, the conversation fettered out, and standing at the center of the room was him. The Magus himself. Lorminus Von Hisilda. An Elven man with sun kissed olive skin, fiery red hair, and bright golden eyes that captured the attention of every noble. Despite her hatred for this abomination to the word man, even Amari had to admit there was an otherworldly appeal about his athletic build and looks. Though it didn¡¯t bury the hatred. ¡°My friends! My friends, if I can have your attention please!¡± The Magus started. His voice and accent flowed like a human¡¯s from the North, yet another unique addition to his strange appearance. ¡°I want to thank all of you for once again making the journey here to the Auction. I know the roads have been quite dangerous with bandits, beasts, and well¡­ Prince Harrow¡¯s supporters,¡± he joked, causing a soft rumble of laughter in this dining hall. Amari¡¯s eyes hurt from the lights shining off all the gold cutlery and decorations. Who even needs that much gold? It was a fair question. The name Prince Harrow stuck with her for a moment. The Late King Heinsel had three sons and one daughter all fighting for the throne. Prince Harrow was a mystery. All she ever heard was that he was a cruel and violent ruler that oppressed the march of progress. But these were merchants that leased slave soldiers on the regular, Amari didn¡¯t believe a word of it. There was also Prince Caliman, said to be a brilliant tactician, and a man of honor that wanted to make the world a better place. Of course, she didn¡¯t believe that for a moment. All people wanted to make the world better. But once they had power, it became apparent that even the most sincere fall victim to power¡¯s intoxicating aroma. There was another Prince, the youngest of the boys, but Amari couldn¡¯t remember him. The Princess was so out of the public eye that she barely heard so much as a rumor from the lords she had served before. Focus. The voice snapped her to attention as the Magus gestured to the Specialists. ¡°Now we have quite a few here tonight, but rest assured more will arrive tomorrow as well. Still I know some of you are eager to begin so we can start looking at a few here. Do remember that we offer contract only. Rank and File you can purchase as you please, but these Specialists can only be leased for up to three years. Afterwards you must purchase an extension or return them intact I might add. Enjoy yourself my friends!¡± The Magus finally ended. A few nobles already approached. So it began. Many would look to them with intrigue, they¡¯d grab their arms to check muscles. They moved their faces around to check how they looked. Some even stuck their hands in one of the Specialist¡¯s mouths to examine his teeth like some kind of horse. When one finally approached Amari, she tensed up. She despised being touched, and no matter how stiff her body became to prepare itself, her tail flicked nervously. This well dressed human looked down at her confused and then turned back to the Magus. ¡°Excuse me, Mr. Hisilda, a question if you will?¡± The Magus said farewell to a guest and approached. ¡°Ah Master Wilbert, how can I assist you my good sir?¡± The Magus asked with a radiant smile and warm tone. ¡°I¡¯m new to these parties of yours,¡± he started as Amari quickly stole a glance at him. Long brown beard, short well cut brown hair, alert blue eyes, and smell of tobacco on his breath. His fine clothes had more fur than jewels. Was he a hunter? ¡°I wanted to get at least one Specialist but, and I mean no offense, is this one a joke? One of the pleasure slaves in armor by chance?¡± Amari twitched, but recomposed herself when the Magus looked her way. Magus Lorminus smiled and shook his head. ¡°No absolutely not good sir, in fact Amari here is one of our most requested items. She¡¯s a Six, one of our shock troopers, and a very adept fighter I might add. Don¡¯t let her smaller size fool you, I¡¯ve personally seen to it that she is enhanced with all manner of things to make her a deadly unit on any battlefield.¡± ¡°Hm¡­ You¡¯ll forgive me if I¡¯m not convinced.¡± Wilbert said while folding his arms and looking down at her. Lorminus nodded, ¡°Then allow me to give a demonstration.¡± He grabbed a nearby knife off of a table and held it out to Wilbert. ¡°Please, if you will, attempt to bend this piece of silverware.¡± Silverware at a party with mostly gold, it was an item he kept around the last few times someone questioned her strength. Wilbert raised her brow, but shrugged and took the butterknife. Try as he might, the metal wouldn¡¯t bend in his hands. He chuckled and then held it out to the Magus. ¡°About as impossible as bending a sword.¡± The Magus gestured to Amari. ¡°Now give it to her.¡± Wilbert rolled his eyes but played along. He handed the butterknife to Amari, and she took it in her hands. For the briefest of moments she was plagued by the sickeningly sweet thoughts of driving this object through Wilbert¡¯s skull. What¡¯s the worst the Magus would do to her? Flay her alive? Boiled to death in hot oil? Perhaps remove her limbs and leave her a stump for the Pale Ones? It was almost worth it. Almost. Flint. The voice said his name, and all those thoughts melted away. Time resumed its course as with no effort at all, Amari bent the butter knife with both hands. She bent it again in the opposite direction, and began to twist the metal like it was rubber. Wilbert was positively stricken with awe. ¡°Infernal strength at work I see.¡± He nodded proudly. ¡°No no, a common misconception.¡± Lorminus began. ¡°Infernals are warmer and slightly stronger than humans. But only slightly. Your average Infernal man can carry maybe ten pounds more than your average human man, and vice versa for the women. This, my friend, is my own work. I carved enchantments of strength onto her bones, wrote sigils on the muscles just beneath the skin. I even reinforced several weak points like the temple of the skull with a Dwarf made Wyvern-Steel. She¡¯s tough, durable, but don¡¯t let that small appearance fool you. I once saw her act as a battering ram and take down a fort''s wood doors with enough thrashing.¡± Amari remembered that battle. Her friends screaming as hot oil was poured on them, the stink of death from other soldiers that lay long dead nearby in a moot of mud. They had to get into the Fort. Scars on her back from a few arrows reminded her of how close she had danced with Death as well. ¡°I see, fascinating work Mr. Hisilda. I¡¯d like to check the others now.¡± Wilbert said with a polite nod. ¡°Excuse me.¡± As he left, Amari felt a sudden chill up her spine. It was but for a beat of a heart. The fluttering of a fly¡¯s wings were slower, but for that moment in time she saw the Magus¡¯ eyes void of light, of care, and a devil stared at her. It forced her eyes to the ground. Every instinct screamed for her to shut up, stay still, and make herself as small as she could to hide. When she looked back up he was smiling at her like any other guest. ¡°My dear Amari, let¡¯s behave now and not tense up. We wouldn¡¯t want to be uncivilized with new guests, understood?¡± His voice was disgustingly sweet. She nodded, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Magus.¡± Amari said. Even Flint remained still, but she could tell beneath it he was enraged. As the Magus turned around, he suddenly flinched. Flinched? The Magus never flinched, he had no reason to. As far as Amari knew he was the most powerful mage she¡¯d ever known. What caused him to flinch? Actually¡­ Why was the party suddenly so quiet? Amari looked up from the floor and gazed at what could¡¯ve caused this. Her eyes suddenly opened, a look of surprise at what stood before them. Pale alabaster skin like that of ivory. Eyes a shining green, and silky blonde hair atop a human woman¡¯s head. A dress that flowed with the grace of angels and looked to have been sewn by elves of ancient empires. A beautiful piece of Jade-like jewelry in the form of a dragon rested as a pin in her hair, and she gazed at the Specialists with serene eyes. Amari felt the world suddenly change. The dining hall was gone, the oppressive walls, and the pain in her limbs vanished. She breathed air as fresh as mountain spring water, felt the winds of freedom flow through her hair, and stood on the little farm with Flint. Beauty. Power. The voice spoke softly, for once it came with no pain. Magus Lorminus quickly gathered himself and bowed. ¡°Well well, it¡¯s not often we are greeted by you, Countess Marivala, it is truly a pleasure, though I thought you detested these little tea parties I held.¡± The Magus was¡­ Frustrated? Amari had never seen someone cause such an emotion in him. Even if it was subtle, she learned from an early age to read the small signs to avoid his wrath. This woman gave a small smile. ¡°Oh believe me, I despise them so very much, Magus Lorminus. But alas I¡¯m here out of intrigue for one thing and one thing only.¡± ¡°Oh? Praytell what can this humble servant of our great Kingdom do to assist?¡± He offered with a polite bow. Before she could answer, Amari felt the world slow once more. Countess Marivala gazed at her, and Amari felt a strange sensation in her mind. She recalled first arriving here as a child. Their first test was pitting one new arrival against another at a similar age. The loser was left to rot, the winner was given their first and only warm meal before training. She recalled meeting Flint, and both trying to kill each other as teens over bread. She was thrust into her first deployment, and her first battlefield kill. Her life seemed to wash across her in a flash, and when it was done, the Countess approached. ¡°My lady requires a new bodyguard. Something more permanent. Considering the loyalty of your¡­ projects. I figured one of these would do just fine.¡± Magus Lorminus chuckled. ¡°Although I desire to help, our Specialists come with a maximum three year contract. It¡¯s one thousand gold pieces a year after all. Even with renewals we have them return for¡­ Evaluation. To ensure no anomalies in their behavior.¡± ¡°My lady is prepared to offer up fifty thousand then. Fifty years, surely enough time to end this war and then some, if only to handle any and all future issues during peacetime.¡± The room was silent save for a few audible gasps. Who was it this woman served? Amari did not understand money as well as she wished, but considering the reaction it must¡¯ve meant a lot. Even the Magus was stunned. ¡°W-Well¡­ For that price I believe we surely can maybe accommodate something, ha.¡± The Magus cleared his throat and suddenly cheered. ¡°Our first sale of the night! Folks this is special so please don¡¯t go giving me a heart attack like she has!¡± He laughed as a cacophony of cheers erupted. Amari, however, felt her stomach drop. A bubbling anger swelled inside and she fought the urge to scream. She¡¯s going to buy us?! Kill her! Rip her apart! Yes, yes, kill her. Kill her now. If she bought her then Amari would never see Flint again. It wasn¡¯t like the last deployment. This was fifty years. Flint wouldn¡¯t survive fifty years alone. Wait¡­ Would she even survive fifty years alone? No, this couldn¡¯t be. This was hell, this was a nightmare, this woman needed to die! Her mind suddenly quieted as the Countess approached her. When she was close enough, the Countess looked down at her and smiled softly. ¡°I shall take you as my lady¡¯s new bodyguard. Have you any objections?¡± A million. A billion. Ten trillion objections flowed through her brain and she tried to fight against the fear of it all. The Magus¡¯ gaze was watching Amari carefully. She couldn¡¯t speak, she couldn¡¯t object, she couldn¡¯t. ¡°My lady, can you by chance-¡± She stopped as The Magus¡¯ glare pierced through her. Her heart began to hurt, her blood twisted, and her bones began to ache as magic swelled inside of her. Her discipline kept her from moving, but that brief moment of pain was agonizing. ¡°Can I do what?¡± The Countess asked, confused. She cleared her throat, ¡°No¡­ Never mind, I am at your disposal, ma¡¯am.¡± She responded, much to the Magus¡¯ delight. Flint. Comrade. Companion. Shield. Fr- The words were cut off in her brain by the hatred swelling up inside of her. The Countess smiled and nodded. ¡°Very well. Magus Lorminus, I¡¯ll be taking this one. Payment will be delivered to you shortly. My lady needs me so we will be departing early. Remove her collar and we shall take our leave.¡± Magus Lorminus chuckled, ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll need to keep the collar on. Amari is quite violent, especially to mages. So it¡¯s in your best interest to keep her shackled. At least till you¡¯re off my property.¡± ¡°Very well, come along Amari, we have a long journey ahead of us.¡± Countess Marivala instructed as she started to leave. Amari turned to Flint with fear in her eyes, and he did the same. ¡°Ma¡¯am wait what about-¡± the collar heated up almost instantly, and Amari choked as it squeezed her throat. The Magus picked her up and held her close to whisper things in her ear. ¡°Go with that whore, now. Mention my prized engineer one more time, and I¡¯ll make you watch me flay the skin off his body. The same way you watched that little one.¡± His voice was no longer sweet, but filled with venom and ice that pained her ears. Her eyes welled with tears that were too scared to come out. Her body rose on instinct as her fearful eyes looked to Flint one last time. As he tried to reach out to her, his own collar tightened and forced him back into place. Amari¡¯s feet, if only to ensure her survival, began to leave and follow the Countess. We¡¯ll kill them all. Dance in their remains and make them suffer. Her worst fears began to bubble in her mind. When she laid her head down to sleep tonight, would she begin to forget pieces of Flint?