If not for the indistinct ringing in his head Nyiko would have been praying to the moon on his hands and knees for the sweet relief of death. He squirmed and writhed on the stone floor of the slave bunker, the dust turning his robes from red to brown. His limbs twisted and pushed off the ground in a vain attempt to get as far as possible from the perceived source of the sound. The action was ultimately useless, noise followed him wherever he went within the bunker and neither did it wane. It was ever constant and ever there.
His hands went to cover his ears, an useless act but one that was instinctual. The incessant noise did not allow for anything besides itself to exist, so no thought could even begin to form in his mind while it played in his head. It was like there was nothing else besides this noise in all of existence, that the only truths in this world were this noise and the one that conjured it into existence. With a blurry vision for reasons he could not form and was sure about he gazed upon the only figure that he was sure about, Pike. He was doing something to him, something he had seen…the noise continued on, and on. And on.
He could not feel the coolness of the floor, he could not feel the heat of the tears he shed nor could feel the vibration in his throat as his screams turned hoarse and rough. There was only that incessant noise, and there was only its maker. Those two things were immutable realities and the only constants, that and suffering.
Then it stopped. In just an instant it was gone.
His body gave out, unable to take on the burden of what his frayed mind had experienced. His first thought was a comparison, a way to capture the experience he had undergone. For what reason he didn't know, but he came up with one. It was like having one's mind flayed, peeling off each layer that made up his consciousness for all eternity. Except it wasn't eternity, it had finally stopped after who knows how long. He couldn't really guess right now, his mind wasn't good enough to register anything at the moment but slowly things came back to him.
The first thing he noticed was the current state of his own body, violently spasming and drenched in his own sweat and tears. Seconds later he registered the gauntlet of his tormentor reach for him.
Was he trying to tell him something? Nyiko's mind was too fragile to comprehend the sounds he was meant to understand as words, much less infer that what Pike was likely doing was either gloating or insulting him. He could guess that was probably happening, it was what the devilishly handsome awakened often did after his frequent beatings. Honestly, thinking about it now, it was a miracle that Nyiko had endured so much for such a long time. Any other fifteen year old would have lost the will to finish this nightmare and would've found a way to end their suffering on their own terms. Not to say Nyiko was all that willful anyway, at least he didn't think so, not now or before coming here.
He felt himself dropped to the floor, only realizing then that Pike had lifted up by his robes when he reached out for him. He saw the guards silhouette walk away from him, the muffled sound of his boots on the stone floor reverberated in his head. When he left Nyiko had no desire to exist in this form anymore. All he wished to do right now, for at least a little while, was to be swallowed by some nebulous void and stop existing. To feel the glory of nothing.
The other parts himself wouldn't let him have that.
"Get up"
"Can't, can't be seen like this. Can't be seen so broken, they will worry"
He moved. Barely being able to pick himself up he shambled like one of those fantastical undead creatures of old literature that had survived till the modern day, a zombie and he sure as hell looked like one. He reached his hammock and fumbled into it, where he felt safe enough to to force himself to sleep. His mind at least gave him that peace.
Something warm and wet covered his face. He had been awoken by the sound of shuffling that always told him it was time to get ready for the day, an alarm of sorts. Waking up with something feeling something strange on his face would usually be alarming but Nyiko couldn't bring himself to care and just removed it. He opened eyes to see it was just wet cloth. He looked and his eyes met with Ma Akra who came to check on him once she saw he was awake.
"By heart's heart, lad are you alright? Checked on you the day before and you looked ill," She told him, her voice filled with concern. A concern probably only mothers could have
"You made them worry"
"I'm fine Ma Akra," He assured, not wanting to burden her with his troubles. Her being a slave was enough on her plate, adding his abuse would not help when she could do nothing to stop it.
She seemed doubtful but didn't push it. She squeezed his arm and hurried away to get ready, leaving him to begin his morning routine and leaving him to sort his thoughts.
First, he had woken up with a bad migraine courtesy of Pike. Second, he was sure he had experienced a facet of Pike's aspect. It was certainly some sort of mental attack that made it hard for the target to think by causing them some sort of pain. Honestly that was all he could come up with the limited information he had, he prayed that the mind attack was just his awakened ability and not his dormant ability.
He left the comfort of his hammock and got ready for the day
`"Drella…"
"Yes Nyiko"
"What is happening to Hector?"
On her bed poised like an effigy of the monks that lived in temples that once populated the Northern quadrant she sat in tranquil silence, as if the world would not move her no matter what it did. Nyiko couldn't even tell she was breathing, it was slightly unnerving to see such a lively person like that.
"Well, she's in the process of awakening of course" The tones she said made it sound like it was obvious, though the dismissiveness may have been because she was quite busy.
She stood in front of Hector's desk with the table filled with all sorts vials, spices, herbs and
Jars filled with material of living creatures, all placed in a manner that seemed messy and disorganized. Next to those were apparatuses he didn't know the functions of, making the whole scene look like a renaissance painting with hidden meaning. Drella maneuvered through the disorder with ease, her hands flying around the desk as she crushed, grinded and mixed each ingredient like a machine. Her efficiency in the potion making was how he imagined androids worked in [], except she didn't need any spelltech to make the movements seamless.
Standing around doing nothing but alternating between watching Hectre 'meditating' and watching Drella work made him anxious. He should be doing something, shouldn't he? After spending so much time talking and teaching each and every day he had become used to being busy, losing his previous listlessness. To soothe some of his anxiety and to pass the time he repeatedly opened and closed his runes, noting how they had not changed at all since his first day in this nightmare. Over the past three months he had only seen the tangible effect of one of his attributes, [Student Scholar], the two others were still an enigma though he had a theory about what one of them did.
He reread the description of his innate attribute:
[Destined]
Attribute Description: "The strings of fate are loose on your form, instead of being pulled by them you pull on them. Your choices bring good fortune to you alone and create great ripples in the tapestry of fate. Truly, you alone are blessed."
He wandered about the good fortune part of its description, had his choices really brought him fortune? The only answer that came to mind were his experiences with Drella and Hectre. Honestly, it felt like pure luck the way things worked out so well. They realistically should not have come together, he should not have convinced Drella to help Hectre and he should not have been able to befriend Hectre but maybe, just maybe [Destined] had made it happen. It was a long shot, but this attribute was the only other resource he had.
Time passed in silence; besides, none of the trio moved from their positions or made a motion to do something else besides work on their own personal tasks. Hours later Hectre corked the last empty vial and placed it aside with the others. Rolling her shoulders, tired from all the brewing of potions, she handed Nyiko a folded note. It read:
Will you stay complacent by her side?
He frowned, ready to retort before she pressed her a palm to his lips and made a shushing sign with her finger. She pulled out another torn note from her cleavage and presented to him;
Don't speak, the awakened may hear you
She pointed at the door. Nyiko nodded and seeing that, Drella removed her hand from his mouth. Nyiko grabbed a paper and a crude pencil before he furiously wrote something down.
What Would you have me do Hectre?
Drella calmly grabbed the pencil from him before writing her response.
Not giving yourself over to her, do you seriously think that licking her boots will net you your freedom?
Nyiko stared into her amber eyes, before he pointed at what he wrote last.
Join me, She wrote
Soon, I will leave here. To the south west, to where I'm supposed to be. There's an abandoned temple to Heart. It would be tough to bring you along with me but I could do it.
She was offering him a path out of here, one that was shrouded in even more uncertainty than the one he was already on. She hadn't even told him how she planned to leave?! Maybe it was out of concern for the security of her plans but that only told him she didn't trust him and honestly, he felt the same way. He shook his head, he may have been exhausted and a little desperate but he still needed to be rational and the simple fact was that there were too many unknowns if he went with Drella, it was unwise. There was another, dumber reason he didn't want to go though. A sort of sunk cost fallacy it felt toward her. They spent so much time together that he just didn't want to throw that away. There was something deeper there…
"You're going to get us killed, no, in fact you're going to get yourself killed! I can't be a part of you because I'm not stupid enough to do what your doing,"
Drella's expression didn't change, still and statuesque in its beauty, until it fell. Her eyes softened as they looked at him, staring at him for a long while before they broke away with a sigh. She grabbed a few of the filled vials she made, three a bright crimson and one a muddy brown color, and hid them in the folds of his robes. Nyiko didn't resist this, he let her gift him these concoctions with quite acceptance.She handed him another note, seemingly one already written before this conversation:
Red = essence poison
Brown = equals
She gave him another long look before turning away from him. It seemed their business was finished. He turned away as well and continued to watch Hectre, a tense silence settling. Hours later, something strange began to occur.
It had started when Nyiko noticed that her skin seemed to have a slight sheen to it when the sun hit it. To him, it looked like she was sweating. A lot actually. It was a strange sight as the temperature in the room was moderate, even slightly cool but that anomaly did not stop her from perspiring. As the minutes went by as her skin continued to glisten, and he noticed even stranger details; her tunic did not become damp nor the bed beneath, her posture and expression didn't change and she didn't seem to be dehydrated by all this.
In fact, she looked fresher than ever, more lively, her honey skin bright with energy and with time even her scars washed away like the stains on clothes, leaving her flesh pristine and unmarred.
When she opened her eyes, they had a translucent light shining in them. Those brown topaz eyes held a mystical quality to them that no one could understand but her
Her topaz eyes met Nyiko's and she exhaled a soft, satisfied sigh. She looked happy, overjoyed in fact. Her skin reflected that with its smooth texture and bright complexion. Hectare looked refreshed and renewed, reborn into a body filled with a magical energy.
"Quite the makeover isn't it?"
After that day lord Soren's Keep was abuzz with activity in preparation for the Banquet. The awakening of the Frontier lord's last born was a monumental event that had quickly spread through the corridors of the keep, he knew that as the slaves even whispered about it in their bunker, and likely through the city streets as well. So the feast that was to be held would no longer just be a gathering of the local nobility of the empire but a proper introduction to the heiress of the southern frontier of the empire's domain.
Needless to say Hectre was too busy to see him after that day and while she prepared to look and dress the part of a successor to a position of greatness he was kept cooped up in the slave quarters. Nyiko guessed that they no longer had a need for the scholar slave in the castle.
Days passed in those quarters, he didn't do much during that time. Couldn't really. To pass the time Nyiko would think up plans and ideas on his own escape, and what he had to aid in that task. There wasn't much he could do with what he had at his disposal, the poisons would only be useful if he could sneak it into some kind of drink and likely only effective on those who had essence that could be disrupted within the body. Ultimately his solutions always came to falling back on Hectre helping him, an uncertainty that most wouldn't rely on yet he was doing exactly that.
"Are you regretting your decisions?"
He didn't respond to the voice. He was just going to trust in his decision, he would put his faith in her. Even if that faith was most likely misplaced.
Days passed before anything of note happened to him. The slaves entered the room bunker in a hurry, each carrying a bundle in their arms. They began quickly undressing and dressing themselves in the new, cleaner fabrics. He felt something soft and heavy be thrown into his chest, unfurling into new robes of silk and satin colored in cream and gold. He looked up to find his wardens in front of him waiting for him to get dressed. They didn't need to say a word for him to get the message, quickly undressing and clothing himself in the rich silks of his new robe. Inside he found the choker Hectre had bought for him, hiding a small smirk as put it on. There was also a sweet smelling pouch that he was so helpfully informed by Pike to deal with his 'Eunuch odor'. He simply tied that to his waste.
When they were ready Hagh ordered the slave to start moving while they, including Nyiko, would follow behind. The slave climbed the stairs in lines of two. When they all arrived at the main floor of the keep his two wardens took him in a different direction of where the other slaves and guards were going. They navigated through the familiar halls of the keep, the halls where Hectre, Drella, and him would discuss and hold their lessons when Hectre couldn't sit down to learn. But the night had changed things. The torch light lit the halls of the keep made the atmosphere more… eventful. Like the keep itself was quietly itching for the celebrations to begin. The muffled sound of music added to that atmosphere as well.
The subdued songs of lyres and flutes grew substantial as they got closer to the presumed destination, a large door with many people grouped up in front of it in an organized manner, surrounding a central figure. There was no doubt in his mind that the person at the center was Hectre and though he could not see her through the rows of bodies that made up her procession he was sure she looked beautiful.
He felt himself be prodded forward into the procession of the keeps retainers, entering their ranks as if he was a part of them. He stood in a position a row behind Hectre, who was flanked by some maids he hadn't seen before.
Behind the door the music and chatter of the guests began to die down. The retainers around him straightened their backs and held their breaths, Nyiko felt the pressure to follow their lead. Trumpets roared and drums came rumbling in soon after, call to attention as a shrill voice pierced the air.
"Noble ladies and Gentlemen, please stand for her ladyship.
Heir to the fourth frontier, kin of the Sword Saint Oswin who wielded the wolf spirit's fang,
Daughter of Frontier Lord Soren!"
The large doors opened, welcoming the procession in with the radiance of the ball room and the coming songs they would walk along to. The violins began their gentle chorus, weaving silver threads through the hush of the ballroom. The procession moved forward and entered the opulent hall proper, the light slightly blinding Nyiko. The throng of retainers were soon left behind in Hector's walk out and they dispersed and sneaked away to the sides of the ballroom, away from the highborn guests.
There against the wall he watched as revelers ate and drank their fill, mingling amongst themselves to gossip and talk about whatever the nobility did. He searched their faces for someone he knew, a particular someone he knew but only found the Aurol looking content as he lectured a few starry eyed youths and Drella who was in the arm of the Lord Soren's castellan. The man seemed to be parading her around to the other nobles, presenting her rarity as a druid and likely boasting about how he had her all to himself.
If Drella was disgusted, she did not show it. She kept being as elegant as ever. Even in her revealing dress.
Hours of standing made his feet ache, not as bad as during the forced march to the city but he'd still prefer to sit down. He doubted he'd be allowed to sit down, leaning on the wall was likely the most he could get away with the the attendants that stood in front of him as human curtain. That curtain did make it hard to peoplewatch but he managed, till someone interrupted him.
A random servant pulled him away from the wall by his hand, the sudden motion causing him to stumble a bit as he was dragged towards whether the handmaid wanted him to be at. They quickly walked through the divide between the partying gentry and the awaiting attendees at one of the ends of the ballroom where a long table stood, and near that table stood a tall man. They stopped in front of him and the servant bowed deeply at his feet, Nyiko quickly following in toe. His unbelievably handsome yet stoic face studied them for a moment before he raised his hand.
"Rise, the both you"
They followed his command willingly. The man fixed his gaze on, his eyes were like immutable mirrors that tinted whatever they reflected in brown. He saw himself in them, small, thin and weak with the only defining thing about him were the seven scars that decorated his face. He seemed to be satisfied with what he saw as he smirked to himself. It was familiar, too familiar for it to come from his imagination. With a similar complexion, similar smile and similar eye color it felt safe to assume this was Soren, Hectare's father and Nyiko's official owner.
"What is his name?" Though the Frontier Lord was looking at him the question was directed at the servant that brought him to her lord.
She bowed to him again, " Nyiko my lord"
'Wonder where she got my name from?'
The clearly awakened lord nodded and shooed the servant, leaving him alone with Nyiko.
"I expect you to be as obedient as you have been, is that clear slave?"
Nyiko nodded before deciding it was better to voice his agreement.
"Y-yes, my lord" He answered shakily
Lord Soren seemed to be satisfied with that answer and turned to make his way to the front of the large and Nyiko followed steps behind him quietly, like a docile mutt.
The table was filled with all sorts of refreshments and sweet deserts. Decanters of wine and beer poured into the waiting chalices of the partygoers while plates filled with cakes, fritters and custards that those with a sweet tooth could gorge themselves on. If Nyiko was someone else he would have wished for a taste of. And of course the table was surrounded by people, people who began to encircle Lord Soren and in turn him.
"LORD SOREN!" One noble from the growing crowd stepped to greet the lord of the city with a bow, the drink in her chalice spilling as she did so displaying her clear inebriation.
"I give my congratulations to your youngest? To your last nestling. Awakening at such a young age is quite the achievement for your house, War god seems to favor your house Soren"
Soren simply smiled and raised his chalice in thanks.
"Though… " the noble woman looked around the opulent hall. "I loved to see the young lady myself, you don't think she's avoiding me do you?" She queried
"She ought to, she hasn't been around her peers in years. It's best to leave her to form some age appropriate relationships. Anyway, who'd even like to converse with a devil like you!"
All around nobles laughed along with lord Soren while the noble women scoffed in annoyance, taking a sip of her chalice. That's when her eyes landed on him, the slave stood by Lord Soren's side. Nyiko was already uncomfortable being surrounded by the small crowd but when he was under that woman's gaze he felt him shrink under it.
"Say Soren, who's this cutie attached to your hip and why'd you have to scratch him up like that?" she asked as she prodded his scarred cheeks with her nail.
"Not my doing Lady Sirona, he's from that strange group far south. They scar themselves as some sort of symbol of their level of education" He dismissively explained as he poured himself some wine.
"What a strange bunch of vagrants, Sage scholars I think they're called. They worship War in tandem with Heart, searching and spreading knowledge instead of using that knowledge for themselves. Such foolish endeavors"
The nobles that surrounded them nodded their heads in agreement. Meanwhile Lady Sirona began to fiddle with his hair, pulling and threading her nails through the braid. He strained to keep his face as blank as a placid mask to hide his discomfort which seemed to embolden the older noble woman.
A pout formed on her face
"But still… why did they have to mar such a cute face" She turned to Soren with
"Oh dear Soren, you MUST give him to me."
Soren chortled at her words.
"I'm afraid I can't in good conscious, after all this eunuch lacks the necessary tool"
Nyiko felt his burn hot and his throat close up, he pursed his lips in hopes of containing the emotion welling up inside. When lady Sirona heard that she faced Nyiko with downturned lips before pushing into a wall of laughing nobles, men and women who laughed at his injury. He tried to move away from them but they were curious about the scholar slave, wanted to know how he felt, the texture of his skin and hair. They held him and touched him.
Nyiko didn't want to remember what happened after that, but something told him he would undoubtedly remember this. So instead of living in the moment - this oh so horrible moment - he let his mind wander somewhere else.
He let himself daydream.
In his imagination he was a great, powerful god. Merciful and kind to the weak, cruel and vindictive toward the villainous and selfish. When people desired a shelter to call home he shaped the earth to form roofs over their heads. During times of famine he would assure every home had their tables filled with bread, fruit and meat. All under his care, which was as vast as the heavens themselves, would never feel abandoned. Or alone.
He slaughtered those he felt he justified in killing, ending their poor existences in increasingly cruel and obscene ways till there were enough bodies to create a city out of. There were no hands exploring his person, there were no words meant to demean him and remove his humanity and there was nothing else around the dream.
Faces and bodies came and went, either leaving his line of sight or him being moved shown off somewhere else. He was pulled away from his reverie by the cool touch of the night air. Looking around he was on a balcony, a familiar one. He was far from the keep's hall where all the festivities were happening so instead of music he was left in the soft silence of the night sky, the only thing breaking was his own breathing and the breaths of the person that stood next to him. Her hand holding his.
"The moon is quite nice now, makes a great way to destress after being in there…" Hector turned her face to look at him, the moonlight illuminating her awakened beauty.
"Right, Tinyiko?" She said his name in a way he couldn't describe but it felt so kind, too kind for him.
He wished he could have stood tall and answered yes, say some quip about stuffy nobles or being popular but he just couldn't do it. When he tried to open his mouth to speak all that came up was a broken sob. The dam broke right then and there.
His knees buckled then simply fell to the floor. Hector caught him as the sobs and cries of anguish he had bottled up for all these months poured out of him. She held him closer to muffle the ugly sound. He held tightly to her for comfort.
Eventually, when the sobs that racked his body subsided, he looked into Hector's eyes.
"I-I want to leave," his voice came out as a whisper
"Nyiko…"
"Hectre Please!" Nyiko pleaded.
"I can't go on like this, I can't stay in this doomed place…"
Hectre frowned and her perfect eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
He told her of his vision, of the inky crows that rained down on the city, of the hil that crushed the keep she called home. She just listened till he finished. When he was done there was a palpable but soft silence between them, neither had the urge to break it as they stared into each other's eyes. In the topaz depths of her irises he found not the leering looks of the nobles gave him, but one of understanding and empathy.
"Okay, okay Tinyiko. I will. I promise, so don't go on thinking that I don't care about you, ok?" She teased.
Nyiko smiled weakly and tried to stand up, but was pulled back into Hectre's embrace.
"No, let's stay like this a little longer, okay?"
"...Okay"
And under the watchful sight of the moon, they held each other close. Letting their heart beats be their ambiance for the night.
The next day it was like a fire had been lit under everyone's bed, which may have been a fair reaction with the terrible news that had spread into every crack and seam of the castle. Drella, the slave of the castellan, had escaped the keep and possibly the city. Leaving a trail of bodies in her wake, including the castellan himself.
A team was made to capture her, or kill her, and he and Hector had gotten themselves on that team. It had seemed fate had smiled on them, because now they had an out.