Chapter 117: An Estraean's Pride

Chapter 16 - An Estraean's Pride

Eksa's lips cracked again. Her skin was matted with sweat which evaporated at too fast a rate to ease the discomfort that came with the desert's blistering heat. An acrid smell trapped within the humid air of the sand shed only worsened the situation. Other slaves, all either just as dirty as her or even more so, sat with knees tucked in or cross-legged and heads hanging low. The shed space was minimal. Too many unwashed people in one place. The men among them sat at the square room's center, hands bound by short chain shackles. The women kept to the walls, unbound. A minor courtesy to ensure slave men didn't try any foul acts. It hardly mattered. Most of the women were likely to end up in a brothel any way, Eksa thought. Herself included.

She pressed her back against sand walls, uncaring for the grains getting in her hair, and grateful to at least be under some shade. Holding her breath did little good. Breathing was an inevitability after all. She wanted to stretch her legs, but a reedy old man wearing a grey jerkin —which seemed like it once lived a life as a burlap sack— sat not two feet away from her. Eksa chewed on the cracked skin of her lip, tasting iron, taking in another deep breath of repulsive air, and trying not to vomit into her own lap. She pressed a hand to her tummy. She'd shed a few days past. The cramps were particularly worse this time around.

“It isn't all bad,” a soft but cracked voice whispered beside her. It was as if there was too much phlegm stuck in the person's throat.

Eksa spared a glance. Lita? Or was it Leyta? A woman with a light tan. Juuls and Rillin had acquired her about a month ago. Eksa didn't care to remember names. She'd tried making friends with older girls on multiple occasions. Friendships were always short lived. Everyone sold before her. She was the longest lasting product that the slaving couple owned. And now, it was finally over. Her height was near equal to Juuls, who wasn't particularly tall to begin with. And her body was too much akin to a grown woman. The couple had finally decided to sell her to a place without dignity.

Eksa tucked in her knees further, hugging them with her arms. She shuffled up further against the wall, eyes scanning the crowd of slave men to see if any leering gazes were caught upon her. Some were, causing Eksa to swallow. It wasn't fair. She was thirteen. More than two years shy of an adult by Estraean standards. But men would stick it to animals if they could. A girl who looked the part of a woman would be even higher on the list. “It is all bad,” she said, surprised at the venom in her own voice.

“I-I don't think so,” Lita-Leyta said. “This is Eurale's Eye. They say the average person owns a slave here. And they are treated well. The king here has a decree or some such. Everyone is treated fairly.”

Eksa closed her eyes. Fairly . “Easy for you to say when you're as flat as an ironing board,” she sniffed. She felt the other woman shuffle in discomfort. It was all wrong. Fate hated Eksa. It was all a cruel joke of which she was the punchline. There was a time when she'd dreamed of being desirable. Of falling in love and marrying a sailor as honorable as her own father. She'd gotten none of that. None but the desirable part. Humph. Even that part was halved. She still had an ugly face. Juuls reminded her of that often. Especially when Eksa was being rebellious. And some of the slave women sneered at her and called her names behind her back.

Eksa opened her eyes again. Lita-Leyta was leaning forward, chin resting on her arms. She wouldn't lean back against the wall. She'd suffered a new round of whippings for having spilled gruel just yesterday. Eksa didn't even feel bad. She'd suffered four years of that pain. Only recently had her own whippings stopped and her food content increased. Juuls and Rillin had decided to let her skin heal and feed her fattier meals, hoping to nourish parts of her that would increase her selling value. They'd told so many lies to try and be rid of her over the years. The final option was to beautify her and make her as appealing as possible to the wrong sort of buyers. Not that any slave buyers are the right sort.

The shoddy wooden door to the shed opened, spilling blinding light inside. Some slaves near the exit blocked their eyes. A grey haired Juuls stepped inside, crinkling her nose. She had many more wrinkles than when Eksa had first been captured. “You! Flaming girl,” Juuls cried, pointing at Eksa. “Come out!”

Eksa groaned, fearing the sting of the desert sun. 'Flaming' anything had become the common way of calling her. She tried ignoring it, but no one could ignore embedded needles in their heart. Estraeans typically had either red or white hair. It wasn't her fault she was born with it. It hurt to have a common cuss word be associated with her hair. Eksa walked around the perimeter of the shed, avoiding cutting through the men sitting in the center. She'd been groped on occasion by male slaves before. She stepped into the light, squinting, a wave of hot —and smell free— air greeting her.

“Shuari's dust,” Juuls spat, pushing Eksa along. “You look like you've been rolling in a swine pen. Smell like it too.” She gave another shove, causing Eksa to stumble. “Stop dancing like a halfwit!”

Eksa grit her teeth. The ground was hot for her bare feet. She couldn't help but half hop on her toes, her cramps worsening. The whipping might have stopped, but the general treatment she received had worsened. “My sword,” she muttered.

“You'll get it tomorrow after the slave auction! Flames, you're cursed girl. Four years and no one's wanted you yet. If no one buys you tomorrow, I swear by Shuari I'll…” she drifted off, seemingly unsure what to complete the threat with.

Eksa kept her blurring gaze glued before her. Either cursed or just that ugly… Both Juuls and Rillin had been accompanying their foul language with the word 'Shuari' more often since arriving at the Illeyan Alliance near a year past. It was the god of some desert peoples and was frequently used in their sentences. The slavers seemed to have picked it up out of habit.

Thick northern wind blew past as Eksa was shoved along. If there was some respite to be had, assuming this could even be called respite, it was that Eurale was a seaside city. Its air carried a salty smell, bringing with it the stinging memories of a girl that once dreamed of sailing —of adventuring, as if sea water had been rubbed against those torn dreams, only adding further insult to that still fresh wound.

That always fresh wound.

A glimpse at the northern horizon shown a sparkling blue of the Aegis Basin. Eksa's lips curled down. She was certain desert temperatures would one soon day dry up that wound and turn it crusty until it flaked and fell away, only to join the sand and burn another unfortunate slave's feet.

Eksa felt another shove that followed a slap on her back. She yelped and jumped forward, turning her head to glare. Juuls looked like she would strike Eksa's face but refrained, trying not to harm her appearance. There were other sheds full of slaves in the area. They belonged to other masters. The entire area was designated for slaves, a fenced perimeter being set up with guards in white robes patrolling. So much for fair treatment . Regardless of how Eurale's king ordered his subjects treated, slaves would always be second class citizens if not worse. They were a commodity kept in pens to be bought and sold, not humans with actual lives. They would forever be the property of another before they were people subject to the country's laws.

Juuls forced Eksa into another building, this one larger and made with thick sand bricks rather than just being a sand hut. Her heart fluttered as the sound of splashing water entered her ears. A bath house. One with small square windows near the ceiling through which sunlight flowed, allowing the waters to sparkle. Eksa nearly cried. She hadn't seen so much water this close up in a really long time. Even in the Izzet Oasis, slaves were kept away from their supposedly holy springs. Soapy scent filled the air. There were other women bathing as well. Eksa could only assume that they were also slaves.

“Strip,” Juuls demanded, as if Eksa had actual clothes to remove.

She removed the ragged half-sleeved top she wore that almost reached her knees as well as a pair of loose trousers that had more holes than yellow cheese. It smelled worse than blue cheese. Eksa stepped down the steps, submerging her soles into water, then her ankles, then her shins, and finally, after the last step, half her entire body. She grit her teeth, finding the water too cold at first after a walk beneath the scorching sun. Relief soon washed over her. She hugged her own body, rubbing her arms with wet hands, letting water embrace her. Water. Ah, water. How I missed you so.

The sound of waves crashing against a ship. A shouting captain. Singing deckhands…

“Get over here!” Juuls snapped.

Eksa grimaced, being brought back to reality. Juuls was standing at the corner of the bath a foot away from the water, arms crossed, and foot tapping against the stone. Eksa fell forward and swam over, joyed that the skill was not lost on her yet. She stopped before the bath's edge, swinging her head back, letting her slick drenched hair slap her back. It felt so wonderful to be near water again. The image of a sea was so vivid in her mind. An image that even Juul's deep scowl couldn't shatter. The woman knelt down, a rough sandstone in one hand and a bar of soap in the other.

“Turn,” the slaver commanded.

Eksa did as was told. What followed was an agonizing half hour that involved vicious scrubbing with the sandstone. Juuls even went through Eksa's hair, tearing strands out until red lines drifted along the water as if it were a living entity that'd just been whipped. The woman didn't hesitate to scrub between Eksa's breasts or between the legs. She gasped many a time, her cramps paining her further.

By the end of it, her entire body was red. Had she a head of green hair, she would have looked like a ripe strawberry. When last was it I had strawberries?

Juuls gripped Eksa by the jaw and moved her head this way and that, inspecting her features. “Hmm. You have to sell tomorrow. Even if no one regular takes you, a brothel will. They just have to.”

Hearing that brought tears back to Eksa's eyes. “I'm thirteen!” she protested.

Juuls eyed her up and down. “Mhm. And I'm the Queen of Xenaria,” she said uncaring. She pointed to a corner. “Towels. Dry yourself and come outside. I have a new dress for you to wear.”

Eksa could only nod. She stepped out of the bath and grabbed a towel. Tears flowed down her cheeks. Other women passed her by. Some wore similar defeated expressions. Eksa walked to the edge of the bath, feet pattering softly with each step. She sniffled as she rubbed the soft towel through her hair. Further strands came loose and fell before her feet. Desire pleaded her to step back into the bath. She watched as a saltwater drop fell in, ripples blurring her own reflection.

She stared at herself for a while. Head of brilliant red, round cheeks, and sparkling hazel eyes with marks of green within. She wiped her cheeks and tried wearing a slight smile, stretching her lips until it seemed a drawn recurve bow. It… was lovely? Eksa blinked. Aside from her pale skin being much too red from the excessive scrubbing, she couldn't help but admire her own appearance a little. Was it confidence? Or delusion to appease her worry? If she was pretty, then all the worse for it, and even more likely that her potential buyer would be buying her for unsavory reasons.

But…

She stared at herself for a while longer . I… I'm pretty. I really am. Da never lied. He never would lie. It was everyone else. I'm not ugly! I'm just not! The bowstring snapped. Eksa's lips trembled. More tears flowed. Her father was right all along. Even if it was worse for her to be pretty, she enjoyed the pleasure of the moment. The pleasure of her late father's truthful words. I'm pretty. I, Eksa von Raudsol, am Mikael von Raudsol's beautiful daughter!

She hugged her towel, eyes closed. The flowery scent of soap made everything better. Eksa then sighed. She finished drying and wrapped herself with the towel, stepping out back into the sun. Juuls was again waiting with arms crossed and foot tapping. A garment was in her hand. She held it out.

Eksa took the garment and looked it over. A plain white with a bit of blue string weaved like vines at the collar. It was long enough to reach her ankles. She met Juul's eyes. “That's it?”

The woman scowled. “That's it? THAT'S IT? You would dare to question me after I spent extra just to purchase that for you?”

Eksa looked back at the garment. Of course. She was still just a slave. She removed the towel and put the outfit over her head. Her legs felt vulnerable. No cloth hugged them as she was used to. The garment covered the length of her body and stopped a few inches above her ankles. Eksa swallowed. It was thin. Expected of desert garments, but for her who wore not even small clothes underneath… Right. I'm a product. And products need to be marketable . The heat would only make things worse. Body covered in sweat, the cloth would stick, revealing too much. Eksa's head hung low. She had already been receiving lecherous stares in her dirty urchin appearance. But now? It would be exponentially worse.

***

Eksa stood, feet bound, in a line of other slaves before a wooden platform. Each merchant was presenting their goods before a crowd, giving commentaries on the abilities of their products. People in the crowds shouted prices until none bid higher than the last. Everyone in the line shuffled their feet, glancing at the gathered crowd, examining their potential new masters. Eksa kept her gaze to the shadowed ground before her, beads of sweat rolling down her neck. Her skin burned. The white garment wasn't enough to protect against the sun. Morning had hardly arrived and she could already feel the cloth sticking to her. She pinched the front of the cloth and waved it back and forth for airflow. She brushed the side of her nose, blinking at the amount of condensation that had already gathered.

The line inched forward.

Eksa could feel the dull vibrations of her heartbeats grow stronger. She wiggled her toes, feeling the grains of sand stuck between them. Dared she look up at the crowd herself? Dared she seek out the kind faces amongst them and dream of having a decent master? She bit her lip. Dream. How far the heights of her dreams had fallen.

Once she dreamed of being a great ship captain and perhaps even a beautiful bride. Four years in captivity had locked those dreams away and replaced them with the dreams of a slave. With hopes of having someone decent be her master. No longer did she dream of sailing, of feeling ocean spray patter against her face, of a salty breeze run through her hair and adventure and mysteries lying out in the expanse for her to discover. No longer did she even believe in stories of great serpents and elder horrors in distant isles. Those had been a child's thoughts. Though, despite the smell of sweat surrounding her, the smell of Eurale's proximity to the sea still lingered, mocking her and her imprisoned desires of old.

The line inched forward.

Eksa squeezed her eyelids. She felt as if someone were thumping their hands against her chest. Only three others stood before her in the line. A tall male of dark skin with thick arms whom Juuls and Rillin had acquired from Katur, and two other women wearing similar garments to her. The women looked past forty or fifty, skin covered in wrinkles and hints of grey in their thick black locks.

Lita was the one currently on the wooden platform —her name made apparent when Juuls had announced it. She stood with hands clasped together and lips curled down. Rillin twirled a ring of keys in his hands while Juuls presented Lita's talents, emphasizing cooking and cleaning. Was she good at those? Eksa wasn't sure. She never paid mind to tasks given of other slaves.

Bids were shouted. In the end, a dark skinned old woman who used the aid of a cane to move about was the one to purchase Lita. Likely for cooking or cleaning reasons . How fortunate . Eksa found herself clasping her own hands together. Please. Please Creator, let someone like that purchase me. Flames, please. Shuari, Trillia, Ny'Danis, anyone. Whatever god exists. Please. Eksa swallowed. Even the Tortured King! Someone answer my prayers!

The line inched forward.

One of two women went up. She was sold.

The line inched forward.

The second woman went up.

Again, Eksa shuffled her feet.

The dark skinned man went up, leaving no one for Eksa to stand behind. No one to use as a wall to hide behind. The man was sold to a group of armed men wearing white. They carried a banner with a brilliant sun hanging above sand dunes. The flag of Eurale. It made sense. He had broad shoulders and carved arms. Of course Eurale's soldiers would purchase him. He was freed and now employed as a soldier himself.

It was at last Eksa's turn. She climbed the steps to reach the platform, wood creaking beneath her feet, iron chains around her ankles clinking with each step. A war raged in her chest. She swallowed, struggling to breathe. She shuffled to the center of the platform, at last looking down at the crowd of her potential buyers.

There were men wearing tunics that reached their knees. Some had wrappings around their heads. Some of the women amongst them wore colorful dresses and had thinly veiled faces whilst others wore a strange outfit of folding layers, leaving their arms completely bare and at the sun's mercy. Some of the people stood in groups. Among them were men in white and gold robes, a woven trillium flower at their chests; The Order of Trillia. Some wore entirely black and had a banner with three rend marks —the priests of Shuari. And then there were Eurale's royal guards led by a tall woman of fair skin and short black hair. Advisor Cassiopeia by the looks of it. The woman had a conflicting reputation amongst Euralites.

Eksa lowered her gaze and hunched her shoulders forward, making her white outfit hang loosely over her shoulders rather than stick to her sweat damped body. Such was the only agency left to her to try and avoid the attention of unsavory minds.

Juuls raised an arm. “This is Eksa of the north. A native Estraean, and our most prized product!” Some of the audience gasped upon hearing the word 'Estraea'. Estraeans were known to be proud. Slaves among them were rare. Or at least had been rare until some cowardly city lord named Ashlay opened the gates to the Estraean city of Grace during an Empire invasion.

Juuls took out Eksa's prized cutlass and held it above her head. “She even has a weapon of her own! It has her name engraved within. But make no mistake! Her talents are not in combat.”

Yes. I'm a craftsman. If Juuls emphasized that, then there was a chance an architect would take her in. Or dared she hope a little higher? Perhaps even a shipwright as a master? Would Juuls emphasize that? She'd done so before in a desperate attempt to sell Eksa. Surely she would do it again. Eksa had never attended such a large slave auction before. This time. This time, I'll be sold and be rid of Juuls and Rillin .

“Her talents, in fact, lie elsewhere,” the slave trader said, voice softening just a tad. She slowly ran her slender and wretched fingers along the length of Eksa's black sword sheath as if stroking it. “This sword —ahem— sword sheath is used in other tasks. It is put towards practicing her real talent!”

Eksa frowned, turning to her current master. “Huh?” Is she selling me as a fighter?

Juuls pinched the back of Eksa's garment and tugged back. “Behold! A body blessed by Shuari himself, and a talent unlike any other to match! Hands are not this Flaming woman's only specialty. This sword sheath has felt the heat of other parts of her body and has been used to entertain many a client. But make no mistake! This gemstone stands unspoiled yet! Starting bid, five silver halves!”

Eksa stared mouth agape, eyes watering. Why? Why would you…? Juuls simply smirked back. The woman was doing her damned best to sell Eksa off. She no longer cared for the method. I'm thirteen Eksa pleaded in her mind, knowing that she couldn't speak up. Speaking up would make her seem rebellious, killing any chances she might have of being bought by the average modest household.

Eksa looked back at the crowd. Normally, when she was presented, she was met with nothing but silence. There was silence for a brief few seconds. Too little to call a silence. But at the same time, that moment seemed to stretch an eternity. Eksa prayed for it to last longer. Maybe she wouldn't sell again. Maybe, Juuls would get fed up and just let her go. Let her go here in Eurale, so close to the Aegis Basin, so close to her jailed dreams. The silence continued, but only a half second had passed. Please. Just a little longer . Maybe Juuls had overstepped and set the starting price too high? Maybe—

“Seven halves,” someone called.

Eksa froze. A bidder. That meant, at long last, someone was sure to buy her. She searched the crowd for the voice. Her eyes stopped at a short tan man with no hair. His eyes were the same as the leering slave males. Juuls was still tugging on Eksa's garments. It soaked in the condensation on her skin. She was practically naked before this crowd. Such a display in Estraea would have made her unmarriageable.

“Nine,” someone else said. Again Eksa searched the crowd. Another man.

“A silver crown!”

“One and five!”

“One and nine halves and nine quarters!”

Eksa swallowed. All of them men. None of the women spoke up. None of them needed a product described as only having salacious talents. The price continued to rise. It was above two silver crowns now. Juul's eyes sparkled with delight. Eksa's own eyes sparkled with anguish. I am pretty , she told herself. These bidding men all but confirmed that fact. But right now, Eksa wished she were more hideous than Griva herself.

“Two crowns!” a commanding voice said. “Gold!”

Silence.

The audience glanced back at this bidder. A gold crown was worth ten silver crowns. Eksa looked on with teary eyes. Finally, a female bidder. Cassiopeia. The crowds whispered amongst themselves.

“Scratch that. Four crowns,” the advisor said, letting her words hang in triumph over the silent crowd.

No one else spoke. No one would be fool enough to spend four gold crowns on a mere slave.

Juuls beamed beside Eksa, finally letting go of her clothes. “Four years. For four crowns. You were worth it after all, girl,” she whispered. “Four crowns, going once! Twice! Sold!”

Eksa heard clinking behind her. Rilling walked up with his ring of keys and unshackled her feet. She blinked, looking back at the crowd, at her buyer staring back at her. Cassiopeia tilted her head. She narrowed her eyes. She then turned and left the bidding grounds.

Soldiers in white uniforms strode forward to give payment. Two dark skinned men with curved leather scabbards at their waists made their way to the platform. Juuls clasped her hands, smiling wide, practically on the verge of cupping her hands and holding them out like a beggar. A soldier took out four shiny pieces and plopped them into her hands. Crowns were as large as a man's palm, almost medallion like. Only the well-guarded or armed walked around with such large coins. Most people in possession of a silver or gold crown were quick to exchange them at the nearest money lender.

The smile on Juuls' face grew wider as she examined the coins. Eksa grew sick watching it, watching her captor and torturer of many years revelling and joyous. Juuls' smile slowly withered. A deep scowl settled on her face instead.

“What's this?” the woman demanded. “The price was four golds. These are silver crowns.”

“The price,” one of the soldiers began, his accent thick, “was four crowns . This is four crowns.”

“Don't play with me! You said four golds. Your master—”

“Was not present,” the soldier interrupted. “Our master, is King Agram. Now, the bidder, advisor Cass, said four crowns. That was what my ears heard. And I'm certain that everyone else here heard it too. It is higher than what the bidding price was at the time before she spoke up.”

“But-but,” Juuls stammered.

Eksa felt her own lips curling despite her tears mixing with her sweat smothered round cheeks.

“She said two gold crowns,” Rillin protested, stepping up and shaking a fist.

“And we all heard her say 'scratch that'.”

“Pfft.” Eksa couldn't help herself. It was a moment of triumph. These bastards had been swindled and it felt good to see it. She started laughing out loud.

Juuls raised a hand to strike her. The second guard drew his shamshir in a flash and pierced the air between the slaver and Eksa. “She is our property now,” the man said, his accent as thick as the first soldier. “If you harm her, expenses will come out of your pocket.”

The slavers backed away, mumbling and glaring. They handed over the cutlass. The first soldier turned to Eksa, holding out her weapon. “Girl, follow us. Do not consider running.”

Eksa nodded. It was a command, but it was said softly and with a kindred respect. These men were not dressed like how she imagined knights, but King Agram's royal guards seemed as knightly as any other nation's guard regiment. She followed the first soldier down the steps of the platform, the second one trailing after her and watching her back. Eksa wondered for what purpose the king's advisor had purchased her. Dared she dream? Was there a possibility of displaying her talents? Of perchance being recruited into Eurale's navy? Or… or was it something else? Something worse? Eksa dropped her hopes. Too many a time had she been disappointed.

She tried not to think about it. She would find out soon enough anyway. She rekindled the joy of seeing her former captors suffer. She took in a deep breath and turned around just as she stepped away from the platform. Juuls and Rillin were still staring at her. Good, she thought. She stuck out a tongue and flipped a finger, smiling afterwards. The soldier before her raised a brow. Eksa didn’t care. It felt good. Her Estraean pride burned strong yet, rekindled by her final actions.

In the end, she got the last laugh.