"Goodness. Did you trip, little sis?"
The door to the hall opened. Frun van Jolen, the eldest son, leaned on the wall, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The tall man wore a white shirt with two buttons unbuttoned at the collar. Over his shoulder, he wore a black coat.
"..."
Lusha's feet stomped forward. But Frun did not let her move, standing in front of her.
"What is it that you want from me, brother?!" A shaky voice erupted. Her arms remained balled at her sides.
"Relax. You look at me as if I want you dead, sister. Truthfully, I'm trying to help you.... I overheard the conversation by accident. Dad has a really loud voice. Ere Majam is a cruel woman. At the very least, you need to know what she looks like."
".... What?"
"I said I could help you."
"..."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You're... a condescending prick. That's why. I don't need your fucking help! I'll raze that damn camp to dust! Then, I'll collect the dust, smoke it, and blow it in your and your father's face!"
She marched away.
. . .
. .
Blegh!
Julian found himself by a river, not too far from the camp. With the permission of a slaver, of course. He quickly sprinted there and vomited up all of the soup he had eaten. Into the river it went.
Sick... I feel sick. Terribly sick. It's unbearable!
It's in my skin, an unthinkable filth.
He fumbled to undress himself. Carefully and slowly, he unwrapped the bandages. The bandages had clung to his skin and his wounds, so it was a painful process. But once he completed it, he threw himself into the river.
Splsh!
"Haa.."
An instinctive sigh of relief came out of his mouth as the cold, calming water washed over his body. But, of course, he still felt dirty. Sweaty. As if the air was clinging to his skin, like an uncomfortable wet shirt.
Julian crawled out of the river. Dripping wet. He only managed to get his trousers out before he heard the rustling of a bush.
"!"
His head snapped toward the sound.
"Argh!" a voice yelled out.
Out of the bushes, a shadowy figure jumped out. The figure pounced on Julian, sending him to the ground.
"Ack!" he winced.
Slowly, Julian opened his eyes.
"... Umilythe?"
Looking back at him with an equally confused face, Umilythe, released her tight grip from his collar. She had an open palm raised at him. Slowly, she got off him.
"Oh. It's you. What are you doing here, Julian? Following me? I told you to never be involved with me again!" she scolded Julian.
Julian was quick enough to cover himself with his shirt.
"I wasn't... following you, or anything like that. I was just going for a little swim."
"Yeah, right. Like I'd believe-"
She suddenly stopped. Her eyes fell to Julian's arms.
"... What are you looking at?" Julian pulled down his short sleeves, trying to cover whatever she was attempting to look at. There was nothing there besides small self-inflicted scratches from a while ago.
Umilythe reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it up. It revealed an array of scars that seemed to be very recent, in the early healing stage. Julian slapped her hand away, stepping a foot back.
"What.... what do you think you're doing?!"
"... She could very easily heal the scars. But she doesn't. She gets a sick... twisted thrill from seeing what she had done to you. What she had done to us."
"Huh? Us.."
Umilythe lifted her shirt up, hesitatingly. A shocking reveal. Her abdomen was riddled with scars.
"You idiot... I told you not to get involved with me."
"..."
"I'm... sorry. It's my fault, Julian. It was..."
She could not finish her sentence. She broke into tears, bawling. Her head buried into Julian's chest, her arms wrapping around him tightly. There was a bit of hesitation in it, but Julian wrapped his arms around her, slowly caressing the back of her head.
"Y-You're like me now... it-it's my fault..."
Umilythe... I guess that woman put her through something as well.
She is... surprisingly open.
. . .
. .
.
"Miss Majam... at times... she is a good person."
Dusk had come. The sky had become somewhat of a soft dark blue. Cool air blew by.
"She's harder working than anyone. But shes twisted. More twisted than anybody. I remember the first time that... that.."
"..."
"... that she violated me. It was a reminder. No matter how much she adorned me, and how other people viewed me, I was still just her slave. Just a slave."
The two of them had sat on a large boulder near the river. They quietly watched the festive cheer within the slave camp.
"Umilythe."
"Hm?"
"Let me use you. To kill her."
"Me? No... No. I'm not strong enough. If I were strong enough, I would have killed her a long time ago, Julian," she chuckled bitterly.
"Umilythe. I already know you can use magic. You tried to attack me with an open palm. As if you were trying to... cast me with something. It's you, isn't it? It's you who controls the chains."
"..."
"Without you, the head slave master is nothing!" Julian exclaimed. He stood up.
"No... Julian."
"What do you mean no?"
"I can't do it. I'm not brave enough! I'm not courageous enough! I'm not like you, Julian. I won't march into things fearlessly!" She closed her eyes tightly.
Courageous. Brave. Haahaaa... Me.
"... Umilythe. Do you understand how strong you are? To control thousands of chains, from thousands of soldiers. With a range that far. You are far more amazing than I. And... you've mistaken something. I'm not courageous. Or brave. I am just as scared of that woman as you. Despite this... I will push on. That's because I want to kill that woman. And free all these slaves!"
"Julian..."
"I need you. More than anyone. I'm the only one who can understand you. And you're the only one who can understand me. So please. Help me."
Julian stretched a hand out.