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0.85% The Forsaken Hero / Chapter 5: The First Day

บท 5: The First Day

Kaitlyn's departure left a gloomy feeling in my chest. I was used to being punished for acting out, but this was another level entirely. I could only hope her promise about us leaving soon was real, but my heart sank as I looked around the cages. Judging by some of the more emaciated slaves, whose heads drooped and eyes stared listlessly, I might not see the sun for a while. Still, I found myself hoping I'd be taken somewhere else soon, where ever that might be. It can't be worse than living life locked in this cage. What were we even supposed to do for food or water? I didn't bother asking about a bathroom, as that was answered by the squalid stench of feces mixed in with the dust.

I gingerly felt at my face, where a dark bruise marred my cheek. I was no stranger to pain, but the throbbing wounds all over my body felt different. Until now, my life had been filled with violence for the sake of others' pleasure or arousal, a bid for a reaction rather than suffering. I'd perfected my act and learned to satisfy their twisted desires while still protecting myself, but found those skills useless now. This world oppressed for the sake of oppression and used pain as a method of control, regardless of any reaction it garnered.

Just thinking of my situation brought hot tears trickling down my cheeks unhindered. Sniffling, I curled up and closed my eyes "Oh, God…" I began, then snapped my mouth shut.

Prayer had been a habit for me. It was one of my few comforts in a hopeless life, that somewhere, maybe, a merciful being was watching me. Whenever I was beaten senseless or drenched in despair, I prayed for all I was worth, sending my fears and sorrow to whatever god was listening. I shuddered as I recalled the immense colosseum of gods, unable to find it in me to pray. No doubt they'd simply mock my tears, laughing at the hero they'd sent down into slavery.

Lost within a darkness even my eyes failed to breach, I squeezed my eyes shut and curled up in a ball. Surely this was all just a dream. Please be a dream.

Unfortunately, reality came knocking early the next day. Shortly after the sun rose, I was awakened by the loud crash of chains. Weak and groggy, I suppressed a sigh and sat up. Might as well see what's going on.

The warehouse doors opened, and another wagon was parked outside. A few slavers dragged several more slaves into the room, locking them in cages near mine. For some reason, I kind of assumed I was the last, but it seems that's not the case.

The newcomers looked beaten and weary, with species as varied as my batch. Wherever we had come from must have been hit hard. I straightened, squinting to peer closely as the last slave was dragged in. His familiar horns and tail gave rise to curiosity, and I pressed my face against the bars as they dragged him past. His elderly body was bowed with age, but his eyes were filled with scorn, staring at his captors and the other slaves with disdain.

Looking at him was the closest to getting a mirror I would get, and I tried to superimpose my features on his own, forming a mental picture of myself. His skin was slightly redder, but as smooth and unblemished as my own. His horns were shaped like a crown and his tail dragged behind him in discontentment. Shockingly enough, his pupils were little more than slits and glowed an angry red. I shivered and touched my brow. Hopefully, my eyes were a little softer and not quite as scary.

Now that it was light, I found my vision to be even sharper than before. I could see the other slaves in great detail despite the dusty air, but that only made me feel worse. Nearly everyone looked like a bag of dried skin stretched thin over old bones. There were few who weren't covered in wounds and sores, or sporting at least one broken bone. Almost all were beastkin, although none of my particular species aside from the old man.

Beastkin was a term I heard from one of the slaves. It referred to anyone with animalistic features, be it horns, ears, or even arms. Different species of beastkin were known for their animal heritage. Foxkin, Bearkin, Owlkin, etc.

After the slavers left, Kaitlyn appeared and gave her welcoming speech. She was dressed in more modest clothing this time around, yet still something I'd expect to see on whores in the street. She left abruptly after, leaving us in silence once more. Time passed slowly, the hours crawling by one after the other. Soon, hunger cramps seized my stomach, slowly gnawing away at my sanity. Growing desperate for something to take the edge off, I tried to reach the wonderfully warm feeling I assumed was magic. Although I was largely unsuccessful, it provided a welcome distraction.

After an eternity, the warehouse doors finally opened, and Kaitlyn walked through pushing a cart filled with stale bread and crusty waterskins. Was this the route to the midden heap? Realization dawned on me as she began throwing the refuse into cages. What food more fitting for a slave? I sighed, any complaints overwhelmed by the hole in my stomach. At least they intended to feed us.

Occasionally, a piece of bread would bounce off the bars and end up on the floor, only to be snatched up by the resident of the nearest cage. Kaitlyn acted completely unaware of the occurrence, perhaps feeling it too much of a bother, and would continue walking.

I ducked as a small piece of bread flew into my cage. It struck the ground like a rock on cement, sliding back until it stopped against the back bars. Hesitation driven away by hunger, I picked it up and squeezed it, wincing as it refused to give. It had a rough, grainy texture that made me question whether it was even edible. Putting it aside for now, I turned my attention to the small water skin passed through the bars. My throat was swollen and sore from dehydration and the excessive amounts of dust in the air. Pulling aside the stopper, I bit the neck and squeezed for all I was worth. Spluttering as a deluge of viscous fluid filled my throat, I barely noticed the bitter taste and drained the skin by more than half. All at once, the slimy liquid caught up with me, and I dropped the skin, retching until my lungs hurt.

As the coughs died away, I grabbed the waterskin, saving what little was left. Hunger soon drove away my disgust, as I hadn't eaten since my arrival. The bread was hard and nearly impossible to chew, and I gave up after a few teeth-cracking attempts. After some observation, I noticed the other slaves softening the bread with the water. After I dribbled the remaining water onto the bread, it softened just enough to gnaw on. After the water, It wasn't all bad, meaning it was blessedly flavorless, and slowly devouring it gave me something to do for the next few hours.

By the time night fell, I regretted downing all the water immediately. It seems sustenance only comes once a day, meaning I was left to choke on the dusty air until tomorrow. Suffering the consequences of my splurge, I endured the night until my eyes grew heavy. Eventually, weakness and hunger drove me unconscious, and I was blessed with a fitful sleep throughout the night.


บท 6: I'm actually a hero...

Time passed slowly, with each day proceeding as the first. After a few attempts at communication, I soon gave up trying to learn anything from the other slaves. Even if Kaitlyn weren't there, most would hush me the instant I opened my mouth, casting fearful glances at the door.

But it was the ones who didn't that quickly taught me to keep to myself. They were clearly insane, driven to the edge by the dark, and almost always promised me some horrible end. Occasionally, if they were feeling bored enough, they'd spend the next few minutes explaining in excruciating detail how exactly they predicted I might meet my end.

But it was Kaitlyn herself that finally convinced me that talking was a mistake. She was rather attentive and appeared frequently to reprimand and beat those who were too loud. After watching a few slaves end up at death's door, I decided it would be safer to remain quiet.

Trapped in that horrible solitude, the days blended into weeks. Occasionally, the drudgery was broken by the creak of the warehouse door, and Kaitlyn appeared to escort new slaves into the cages. It had seemed packed when I arrived, but after several weeks, perhaps even months, not a single cage was empty. Even when a slave died and their corpse was dragged out, the cage was quickly filled the next trip. 

More than once, I was envious of those who slipped away like that, half wishing the next time I fell asleep, I wouldn't wake up. But the small hope kindled by my rebirth kept the despair away. Perhaps, one day, this would end, and I could find that the life Fate promised was waiting for me.

On one fateful day, the door to Kaityln's chambers opened. I didn't react at first; I rarely did to anything anymore. That changed when I noticed the absence of the food cart. Instead, she was moving from cage to cage, taking notes in a leather-bound notebook. When she stood outside my cage, I shrank back, tail curling anxiously around my feet, not daring to meet her eyes. Fortunately, all I got was a muttered curse and a barely a sentence. 

Nothing seemed to change after her inspection, and I soon forgot about it. The daily pain and loneliness grew tiring, and sometimes, I lacked the motivation to even open my eyes after waking up, spending entire days just lying on the floor. Other times, I let my mind wander, dreaming of the adventures the other heroes must be having. Just what were they finding in this strange, new world? Did they have kings and dragons? Could magic do more than just light up little crystals?

The council of the gods felt like a distant dream, but I knew that if I had come to a new world, they must have as well. Perhaps they were even looking for me, trying to assemble the full team of heroes the gods sent to save the world.

Sometime, perhaps a week after the inspection, the warehouse doors opened, and Kaitlyn walked in accompanied by a blonde-haired woman. The guest was dressed in fine clothing, with a long skirt and embroidered blouse. She wore a silver rose pinned onto her lapel and carried herself like the high-class women of my previous world. Could the long months of waiting be over? Might this finally be a buyer?

Kaitlyn acted as the guide, showing her around the cramped aisles and, referring to her notebook, sharing tidbits about any of the slaves she took an interest in. They spoke more like they were discussing cattle at the market than human, er, humanoid beings. Neither of the women had the faintest spark of pity when they gazed at us in our squalor.

Soon, they made their way down the alley toward me. I shifted anxiously, my tail finding the strength to twitch back and forth as I watched them approach. After months of this hell, I finally had a chance. Who knew when another opportunity would present itself.

Months of silence had left my voice hoarse from disuse, but I didn't hesitate as I pressed up against the bars, slipping my hand out to wave for her attention. As they both noticed me, her with a raised eyebrow and Kaitlyn with a deep frown, my heart felt strangely calm. It was now or never.

"E-excuse me," I stammered, "I...I need help. I'm actually a hero, and-"

That was as far as I got before Kaitlyn seemed to materialize in front of my cage, eyes smoldering with fury. She shouted something at me in the language I didn't understand, kicking the cage and sending me sprawling back.

"Please, listen to me, I'm not a-"

Seeing her kick didn't shut me up; Kaitlyn snatched a key from her belt and jammed it into the lock. The noblewoman stepped back in surprise as the slaver ripped the door open, covering her mouth with a delicate, gloved hand.

"W-wait! I'm a hero!" I cried, fighting as she reached in and grabbed me by the collar.

Kaitlyn screeched something else at me and dragged me out, sending me rolling across the floor. Before I could scream, much less recover, she stalked over and planted a kick in my stomach, driving the breath from my lungs. I gaped, gasping for air, and doubled over. More kicks followed, slamming into my side, back, and stomach with the fury of a storm.

I curled into a ball and sheltered my face, finally managing to scream as my breath returned. Bruises sprouted across my body like flowers, turning my skin a blotchy purple. A particularly sharp kick slammed into my ribs, and sharp pain tore through my side as a rib snapped, breaking through my flesh. A spurt of scarlet blood arced through the air, splattering across the ground, just missing the lady.

The pain was overwhelming, but as my vision began to fade, the blonde woman placed a hand on Kaitlyn's arm, halting the assault. My spirit rose at her intervention, but one look at her face crushed my hope. There was no pity or righteous indignation to be found there, only disgust.

"This is a new blouse," she said, frowning as she fingered the costly silks of her sleeve, "I imagine it's worth more than this slave's life, and I'd hate to see her blood stain it."

Kaitlyn froze, her heel still planted on my chest. After a second, she quickly regained her composure and stepped away, bowing her head. "Forgive me, I acted rashly."

The noblewoman sniffed. 'Fortunately, I managed to step back in time, so no compensation will be required."

Kaitlyn sighed, losing some of her tension. "Thank the gods. In that case, why don't we continue? For your convenience, I'll wait to finish disciplining this slave."

Nodding imperiously, the blonde moved on to the next cage, stepping over me with disgust. I lost all hope entirely as she began inspecting the next inhabitant without another look back.

I yelped as rough hands grabbed my arms and dragged me up, sending a wave of fire through my side. Blood dripped from the protruding bone, leaving a trail behind us as she dragged me back to my cage. Darkness speckled my vision, waves of excruciating pain nearly stealing my consciousness.

Kaitlyn cursed again, shaking me violently as blood splattered over her hands. She was surprisingly strong and handled my emaciated body with ease, stuffing me back into my cage and locking it. She glanced at her bloody hands and let out an irritated huff.

"I'll return in a moment, Arriane," she said, heading toward the stairwell. "Continue on without me."

"Aren't I already?" the blonde woman replied snidely.

I touched my side, nearly blacking out again as I rubbed the inch-long fragment of bone breaking through the skin. I ran through everything I'd heard about injuries like this, but nothing came to mind. I tried to press on the wound and at least stop the bleeding, but that only aggravated the pain and sent another spurt of blood running down my side.

"Your dress," a voice whispered behind me.

The words came muddled through my panic, and I stared down blankly at my dress, unable to understand what the voice referred to.

Tear your dress," it hissed again. "Use it like a bandage."

They sounded masculine, and their deep voice had a calming effect. Without hesitating further, I grabbed the frayed cloth of my skirt and tore it along a seam. Wrapping it around my ribs, I tried to tie the knot, but the constriction tore another scream from my lips. I tried again, but my trembling fingers couldn't muster the required strength.

"Let me do it," the voice said.

I pushed myself up against the wall nearest the voice and presented the ends of the makeshift bandage. Strong hands took them from me, and I winced as he adjusted the bandage.

"Quiet," he hissed. "Or do you want her to come back?"

The slave pulled tight, synching the bandage down. I bit my lip to keep my voice down, gagging as blood filled my mouth. As he adjusted the knot, I collapsed against the wall, finding my vision going dim. My mind felt hazy, and I was filled with a strange sensation I'd experienced several months ago. It seemed this really was the end.

Something inside me broke, and a subtle warmth blossomed in my heart, gradually radiating outward until it kissed the tip of my horns and tail. Strength flowed into my limbs, and my find cleared, bringing me back from the brink. I desperately clung to the feeling, wrapped up in its soothing embrace until the worst of the pain faded.

After a moment, the male slave gently pushed me away. "Don't move. The bone isn't set yet, but that should stop the bleeding."

"Thank you," I whispered, still trying to contain my sobs.

"You got lucky the bone fractured outward. If it went in, your organs would have been ripped to shreds. The gods only know what went through your head there. A hero? Really?"

My lower lip trembled. "I-I just thought-"

"There's your problem," the slave hissed. "We're slaves. We don't think. We only do. The sooner you learn that, the more likely you are to survive. Little chance of that happening now, though."

He went on a little longer, giving me something of a lecture, but as I rested my head against the bars, my mind wandered out of the conversation. It was all I could do to keep conscious. Every breath hurt, especially the deep ones, but I forced my chest to keep moving anyway.

By the time the nobles were finished, I'd regained some semblance of calm, my heart beating at a manageable rate. With some effort, I raised my head, tail rigid with pain, and looked to see where the two had gone.

They stood talking outside of a luxurious coach, driven by a well-dressed servant and pulled by a few horses. The animals' were brushed to a sheen and had their harnesses covered in ribbons. The entire ride screamed of wealth, but my eyes moved past the gaudy coach to the large dust cloud rising behind them. Had someone else come to witness my misery?


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