The Dragon's Apprentice
(working title)
by Kimra
Part Two
-----
She staggered forwards ungracefully, propelled by the tugging chain clipped to her neck and threaded past her hand. She tried to tug back in retaliation but was completely unsuccessful. Rieishel. That was what he had called her, and as much as she had wanted to spit the name back in his face she hadn't.
She had fought the second she realised what was happening, but it had done little good, she was not a strong person whatever she was it was not strong.
Around her the streets where pulsing with life. People scurried from one place to the next with no mind for the other inhabitants of the streets. They pushed and shoved there way from store to store, occasionally stopping to buy something, to talk with a neighbour, or for some other purpose she had no time to fathom. There was a pulse to the crowd that wormed around her, pushing her from different directions at random but never dislodging her from the chain that clung to her thin neck.
Before her he walked confidently, oblivious to the crowds ruff movements. His left hand ideally toying with the golden chain wrapped around his palm, binding her to him. His board shoulders ploughed a path through the crowd with little mind. A step behind him she heard the colourful words that where thrown at him from those unfortunate enough to have been in his way.
More then one person walked into her as she tried to keep her pace with his long strides. Most of them continued on without a word, but every one managed to bump into one of her numerous wounds forcefully reminding her of one of her many problems.
They turned a corner arriving onto a boarder avenue where the crowd converged at the stalls lining the edge of the walk way. There was a stream in the middle of constantly moving people, but the flow was smoother then the last street, and the size of the path giving more room. Still the man before her managed to find people in his way and pushed them aside, leaving her recipient to there spiteful looks and outraged words.
It did occur to her as they continued, turning into wider paths still, that the words thrown at her warden where subtly changing. A tinge of self restraint echoed in bitting words, and the language lent closer to subtle insults then outright threats. The stalls too appeared to take on differences. The merchandise displayed was by far superior quality, though she was uncertain of how she knew. The colours that arrested her vision as they progressed became more vivid also. Where grey's and browns had seemed to dominate earlier reds, blues, and yellows now ruled.
It was staring at the colours in particular that caused her to stop once or twice in unrepressed admiration. And she would not continue again until the chain was pulled with such strength she would tumble over against her captor. He would glare at her with disappointment for a moment before continuing on his way down the street her stumbling form only a step behind.
*****
When her captor came to a stop she followed his actions and waited patiently for him to acknowledge her or continue on his way. He brushed down his black shirt with impatience before looking up to their right. In the corner of her eye she watched as a man dressed in a formal green approached, a blade strapped to his waist, a dagger on his belt, and a scroll in his left hand.
She ignored the approaching man and looked instead at the building before them. It stood less then twice her height, the archway that lead deeper inside, reaching close to the top of the sandstone structure looking foreboding. Inside where the shouts of men and women, though she could not decipher any words.
"We were expecting you last week, Mezakal." The armed man admitted as he handed the scroll over to her companion. She looked back at the two as another man, dressed in the same formal green over tunic as the scroll barer moved forwards. The similarities in there clothing lead her to believe that they where a guard of some sort.
"I was delayed." Her captor flicked his hand ideally in her direction his expression unreadable. The expressions of the two guard who turned to acknowledge her where less of an enigma. One pair of casual eyes skimmed her body starting at her feet, stopping at her chest, them travelling back down her length. The other pair of eyes, at least, rested on her face for a second before taking in the sight of her body.
"You've never been delayed before." The first guard teased looking away from her with disinterest. The other guard, who's eyes had fallen to her face for the briefest of moments didn't move his eyes from her lower waist.
"What does it matter?" The chain was tugged almost absently as he fisted his hand, glaring at the first guard. She, Rieishel, looked back at him, Mezakal, ignoring the eyes still clinging to her frame. He again refused to take notice of her existence.
"Slaves aren't allowed inside." The second guard reminded when Mezakal began to walk away from them towards the archway. With a mild sound of disapproval he turned to the two guards.
"Put her in the holding pen." He replied offering the end of the chain to the first guard who accepted it with a weary nod. "Are threats necessary?" Mezakal watched the guard with level blue eyes until the guard shook his head tightening his grip on the chain. With no other word or explanation the only person she could claim to know strolled through the archway leaving her in the possession of one leering guard and his companion.
She shifted her eyes over their body's as they had done hers, but her intent was very different from their own. When she meet the second guards eyes she could tell he was contemplating what to do with her now Mezakal had left, the first guards eyes where less involved with mentally undressing her, in fact his eyes where averted from her body entirely.
"Don't even think it Jar." The first guard warned but he yanked the chain towards himself forcing her body against his own. Her breathing stopped as she stared into cold brown eyes, her hands pushing against his body in a demand for release. Her actions did little more then make him smirk.
"Do you think he'd notice?" The second guard inquired, his voice making her body recoil. The guard she was pressed against's expression changed and he put slack into the chain allowing her to pull back.
"Yeah, he would." The first guard's voice was drenched with anger, and followed by silence. Then without a word he began to move, dragging her after him with even less compassion then Mezakal had displayed.
*****
Her feet crunching into dry dirt. "Rieishel." She reminded herself carefully, it would be foolish now she had a name to forget it. Her eyes travelled the space of her confinement. A circle around the large pole her chain had been attached too, it wasn't a physical boundary, merely her chain would reach no further.
There was a guard near her, neither of the two she had already been introduced to but he wore the formal green tunic as well. He also paid her little attention, his eyes moving instead over the thin trickle of a crowd that passed the building's walls.
There where only three other slaves chained to the many poles dotting the edge of the sandstone wall. The guard looked at them as rarely as he looked at her, but it was obvious his place was to make sure they where no mishandled or stolen while there masters where away.
She dug her toe deeper into the dirt, her thin slippers disregarded by the pole. She had the chain stretched out as far as she could comfortably, the loop going through the ornament on her hand making comfort impossible but she was trying. Looking at her other hand she contemplated the deep grazing curious about it's existence. Her other wounds too had not gone anywhere during the days events much to her disappointment.
"You new?" A voice asked gruffly from her right. Rieishel turned her head to face a dirty looking girl in a torn pink dress.
"What?" She couldn't help the confused tone of voice that escaped her, staring at the girl who seemed to expect her to understand. There was a pause and the girl grinned at her.
"I said. You New?" The girl repeated her grin making her look stunningly beautiful, even under the grime.
"I said. What?" Rieishel responded staring at the girl in bewilderment. The girl too was chained to one of the poles, leaving a gap of some meters between them. Both her wrists where scarred and red, and just above the marks where two thick straps of silver, the chains melted onto the bands.
"New?" The girl repeated her expression of amused tolerance. "To this?" She jerked her head to the sandstone building Mezakal had disappeared into. "I'm always brought along. Your just lucky today's a cool day, I've gone back red as a rose after sitting in this sun all day before." The girls cheerful voice faded as Rieishel looked at the foreboding wall.
She curiously wondered what had drawn Mezakal to this place and why he had brought her. It had been less then a days travel by carriage to the house deep within the city walls where she had been locked in the cellar awaiting the morning. "What's in there?" She asked with a slight awe, but it loomed above her, even only twice her height it was impressive.
"You don't know?" The girl sputtered her eyes bulging with shock.
Rieishel frowned at the outburst that implied she was lacking for never having being told. "I wouldn't have asked, if I knew." She responded, her voice strangely kind although she was agitated by the girls reaction.
"Right." The girl drawled out slowly staring at Rieishel with condesending eyes. "It's the slave yards. That's why we don't get to go in there. They don't want to be mixing owned goods with purchasable goods. 'Parently there had been huge disputes over some of the better slaves before they put the rule in." Her perky voice seemed to be back to how it had begun.
"So he's gone to buy slaves?"
"Your's a he?" The girl perked with curiosity. "I should have guessed. The way your dressed and all. The she's put us in hideous clothes so there guests don't think the slaves look betted then they do." The girl smiled with triumph. "I always get the ugliest dresses!" Then she continued to prattle about things that didn't concern or interest Rieishel.
Rieishel blocked the girls voice out looking over the crowd that passed by and finding a set of purple eyes latched onto her. She stared back into the eyes trying to read what they where thinking and the stranger broke eye contact. She looked over the body that belonged to the eyes, finding a well defined male body shrouded in dark brown pants, a white shirt and a dark blue tunic. She tried to follow his path as he moved away, wondering why he had been staring at her, but she lost him quickly in the crowd.
(working title)
by Kimra
Part Two
-----
She staggered forwards ungracefully, propelled by the tugging chain clipped to her neck and threaded past her hand. She tried to tug back in retaliation but was completely unsuccessful. Rieishel. That was what he had called her, and as much as she had wanted to spit the name back in his face she hadn't.
She had fought the second she realised what was happening, but it had done little good, she was not a strong person whatever she was it was not strong.
Around her the streets where pulsing with life. People scurried from one place to the next with no mind for the other inhabitants of the streets. They pushed and shoved there way from store to store, occasionally stopping to buy something, to talk with a neighbour, or for some other purpose she had no time to fathom. There was a pulse to the crowd that wormed around her, pushing her from different directions at random but never dislodging her from the chain that clung to her thin neck.
Before her he walked confidently, oblivious to the crowds ruff movements. His left hand ideally toying with the golden chain wrapped around his palm, binding her to him. His board shoulders ploughed a path through the crowd with little mind. A step behind him she heard the colourful words that where thrown at him from those unfortunate enough to have been in his way.
More then one person walked into her as she tried to keep her pace with his long strides. Most of them continued on without a word, but every one managed to bump into one of her numerous wounds forcefully reminding her of one of her many problems.
They turned a corner arriving onto a boarder avenue where the crowd converged at the stalls lining the edge of the walk way. There was a stream in the middle of constantly moving people, but the flow was smoother then the last street, and the size of the path giving more room. Still the man before her managed to find people in his way and pushed them aside, leaving her recipient to there spiteful looks and outraged words.
It did occur to her as they continued, turning into wider paths still, that the words thrown at her warden where subtly changing. A tinge of self restraint echoed in bitting words, and the language lent closer to subtle insults then outright threats. The stalls too appeared to take on differences. The merchandise displayed was by far superior quality, though she was uncertain of how she knew. The colours that arrested her vision as they progressed became more vivid also. Where grey's and browns had seemed to dominate earlier reds, blues, and yellows now ruled.
It was staring at the colours in particular that caused her to stop once or twice in unrepressed admiration. And she would not continue again until the chain was pulled with such strength she would tumble over against her captor. He would glare at her with disappointment for a moment before continuing on his way down the street her stumbling form only a step behind.
*****
When her captor came to a stop she followed his actions and waited patiently for him to acknowledge her or continue on his way. He brushed down his black shirt with impatience before looking up to their right. In the corner of her eye she watched as a man dressed in a formal green approached, a blade strapped to his waist, a dagger on his belt, and a scroll in his left hand.
She ignored the approaching man and looked instead at the building before them. It stood less then twice her height, the archway that lead deeper inside, reaching close to the top of the sandstone structure looking foreboding. Inside where the shouts of men and women, though she could not decipher any words.
"We were expecting you last week, Mezakal." The armed man admitted as he handed the scroll over to her companion. She looked back at the two as another man, dressed in the same formal green over tunic as the scroll barer moved forwards. The similarities in there clothing lead her to believe that they where a guard of some sort.
"I was delayed." Her captor flicked his hand ideally in her direction his expression unreadable. The expressions of the two guard who turned to acknowledge her where less of an enigma. One pair of casual eyes skimmed her body starting at her feet, stopping at her chest, them travelling back down her length. The other pair of eyes, at least, rested on her face for a second before taking in the sight of her body.
"You've never been delayed before." The first guard teased looking away from her with disinterest. The other guard, who's eyes had fallen to her face for the briefest of moments didn't move his eyes from her lower waist.
"What does it matter?" The chain was tugged almost absently as he fisted his hand, glaring at the first guard. She, Rieishel, looked back at him, Mezakal, ignoring the eyes still clinging to her frame. He again refused to take notice of her existence.
"Slaves aren't allowed inside." The second guard reminded when Mezakal began to walk away from them towards the archway. With a mild sound of disapproval he turned to the two guards.
"Put her in the holding pen." He replied offering the end of the chain to the first guard who accepted it with a weary nod. "Are threats necessary?" Mezakal watched the guard with level blue eyes until the guard shook his head tightening his grip on the chain. With no other word or explanation the only person she could claim to know strolled through the archway leaving her in the possession of one leering guard and his companion.
She shifted her eyes over their body's as they had done hers, but her intent was very different from their own. When she meet the second guards eyes she could tell he was contemplating what to do with her now Mezakal had left, the first guards eyes where less involved with mentally undressing her, in fact his eyes where averted from her body entirely.
"Don't even think it Jar." The first guard warned but he yanked the chain towards himself forcing her body against his own. Her breathing stopped as she stared into cold brown eyes, her hands pushing against his body in a demand for release. Her actions did little more then make him smirk.
"Do you think he'd notice?" The second guard inquired, his voice making her body recoil. The guard she was pressed against's expression changed and he put slack into the chain allowing her to pull back.
"Yeah, he would." The first guard's voice was drenched with anger, and followed by silence. Then without a word he began to move, dragging her after him with even less compassion then Mezakal had displayed.
*****
Her feet crunching into dry dirt. "Rieishel." She reminded herself carefully, it would be foolish now she had a name to forget it. Her eyes travelled the space of her confinement. A circle around the large pole her chain had been attached too, it wasn't a physical boundary, merely her chain would reach no further.
There was a guard near her, neither of the two she had already been introduced to but he wore the formal green tunic as well. He also paid her little attention, his eyes moving instead over the thin trickle of a crowd that passed the building's walls.
There where only three other slaves chained to the many poles dotting the edge of the sandstone wall. The guard looked at them as rarely as he looked at her, but it was obvious his place was to make sure they where no mishandled or stolen while there masters where away.
She dug her toe deeper into the dirt, her thin slippers disregarded by the pole. She had the chain stretched out as far as she could comfortably, the loop going through the ornament on her hand making comfort impossible but she was trying. Looking at her other hand she contemplated the deep grazing curious about it's existence. Her other wounds too had not gone anywhere during the days events much to her disappointment.
"You new?" A voice asked gruffly from her right. Rieishel turned her head to face a dirty looking girl in a torn pink dress.
"What?" She couldn't help the confused tone of voice that escaped her, staring at the girl who seemed to expect her to understand. There was a pause and the girl grinned at her.
"I said. You New?" The girl repeated her grin making her look stunningly beautiful, even under the grime.
"I said. What?" Rieishel responded staring at the girl in bewilderment. The girl too was chained to one of the poles, leaving a gap of some meters between them. Both her wrists where scarred and red, and just above the marks where two thick straps of silver, the chains melted onto the bands.
"New?" The girl repeated her expression of amused tolerance. "To this?" She jerked her head to the sandstone building Mezakal had disappeared into. "I'm always brought along. Your just lucky today's a cool day, I've gone back red as a rose after sitting in this sun all day before." The girls cheerful voice faded as Rieishel looked at the foreboding wall.
She curiously wondered what had drawn Mezakal to this place and why he had brought her. It had been less then a days travel by carriage to the house deep within the city walls where she had been locked in the cellar awaiting the morning. "What's in there?" She asked with a slight awe, but it loomed above her, even only twice her height it was impressive.
"You don't know?" The girl sputtered her eyes bulging with shock.
Rieishel frowned at the outburst that implied she was lacking for never having being told. "I wouldn't have asked, if I knew." She responded, her voice strangely kind although she was agitated by the girls reaction.
"Right." The girl drawled out slowly staring at Rieishel with condesending eyes. "It's the slave yards. That's why we don't get to go in there. They don't want to be mixing owned goods with purchasable goods. 'Parently there had been huge disputes over some of the better slaves before they put the rule in." Her perky voice seemed to be back to how it had begun.
"So he's gone to buy slaves?"
"Your's a he?" The girl perked with curiosity. "I should have guessed. The way your dressed and all. The she's put us in hideous clothes so there guests don't think the slaves look betted then they do." The girl smiled with triumph. "I always get the ugliest dresses!" Then she continued to prattle about things that didn't concern or interest Rieishel.
Rieishel blocked the girls voice out looking over the crowd that passed by and finding a set of purple eyes latched onto her. She stared back into the eyes trying to read what they where thinking and the stranger broke eye contact. She looked over the body that belonged to the eyes, finding a well defined male body shrouded in dark brown pants, a white shirt and a dark blue tunic. She tried to follow his path as he moved away, wondering why he had been staring at her, but she lost him quickly in the crowd.