Let's be Friends

[Shiress]

Shiress couldnt wipe the goofy, excited grin from her face, in fact, it was all she could do to refrain from clapping her hands together while dancing a little jig; she had been given a little taste of freedom -albeit while escorted by an armed guard with orders to subdue the Lark Slave by any means possible, in the event she tried something stupid- even still, it felt like a morsel of freedom to her.

Since bonding with Rook, the Slave had become docile to her slaver out of fear of inadvertently hurting her companion, and obeying the wish of her bondmate, though, truth-be-told, Shiress could feel Radcliffe Lark's crafted compulsion take control of her will; one couldn't endure the mental torture and takeover of a hypnotist for season upon season and not be able to pick up on such things. Shiress prided herself with thinking she 'allowed' the hypnosis, however, instead of obsessing on the fact that she couldn't have fought it if she had tried.

It had paid off.

The Slave's path between The Floating Garden and the Lark Estate had not veered. Days, and some nights, were spent tending the garden, while other, rarer days, were spent aiding the healer at the estate. Shiress enjoyed the latter days, though none were really appealing while in the Lark custady. This day was a latter day.

A sickness, virus most likely, had spread like wildfire throughout the Lark House, sending all it inflicted to their chamberpots and sick buckets. Luckily, Shiress was not among the more unlucky slaves put to task of emptying those chamberpots and sick buckets. Instead, she had been by the side of the healer, tipping water cups, ladling soup to weak lips, and wiping fevered brows, while forcing medicines between bouts of sickness. It was the healer who had pulled the slave from her tasks and ordered her to the city proper for supplies. Shiress could have kissed the ancient healer right on her wrinkled lips.

By the time Shiress and Kylar, her armed and ever-present reminder that she was still a slave, stepped off the ravosala it was nearly mid day. Shiress and guard headed straight for Merchant Circle and a little herbal shop tucked into its corner. Shiress moved through the small store, reading from a note held in her hand, selecting, replacing, then selecting again a colorful, and vaguely fragrant variety of herbal remedies, before piling her basket full. Kylar, at his two paces behind, contented himself with scrutinizing a small, prickly bush while the slave paid for the basket of selected herbs and roots. Shiress grinned at the guard presently sucking the end of a pricked finger as they vacated the shop. The guard hissed at her. Shiress grinned more.

Just as the pair stepped out onto the dock a nearby scream nearly caused Shiress to jump from her skin. Stepping around to the front, Kylar drew his sword and took a step forward, looking back at the slave meaningfully. "I'm not going anywhere." Shiress sighed, leaning against the wall, close to the door they just came through.

Two guards ran up to Kylar and began speaking and gesturing wildly as they explained their situation. From the corner of her eye Shiress caught site of movement. Stepping slightly off the wall, she bent forward and spotted a young, dark haired girl, her round face framed with fear, hiding beneath a table, maybe ten paces from where the guards stood talking. Shiress gasped when the girls eyes flashed, catching the tilted sunlight, as they met with her own. "Dhani.." she whispered, eyes widening as what was happening suddenly fell into place.

The slave stood contemplating for several chimes, gaze flicking back and forth between the girl and the guards. If she was to do something, it would need to be very soon and when the girl mouthed 'help me please' the decision was made. Shiress slid from the wall, bent awkwardly, and motioned for the young Dhani to follow her. Once close, she took the girls arm and slung her around and pushed her into an alleyway, shoving her behind a toppled table. "Stay here." she ordered. "I know a house you can hide." she motioned for the girl to stay, hoping she understood. "I'll send them in the wrong direction and try to get back to you.." Shiress straightened, starting back toward her perch against the wall. "just dont..."

Pain cracked across the back of Shiress skull, just before her world went black.

[Prophet]

The small brunette would wake on a large chair that was old, a bit musty and loaded with a random assortment of half a dozen pillows. She was not bound nor resting atop any glyphs or claw traps. The woman was simply on a chair in the middle of a room that held very little else. Wall to grimly painted wall was void of pictures, windows and furniture save for one lonely little stood upon which the little Dhani girl sat. Her eyes, the vertical slits of a serpent gave her away and then in a shimmering display, the vision changed. A grinning woman stepped out of the glow. She was as tall as Shiress with fiery red hair, green human eyes and a freckled set of cheeks that were as round as they were flushed.

“Oh, Ionu’s grace, you’re ok.” She chortled then hopped from her stool and moved towards Shiress. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. Here…” She stopped just out of her own arm’s reach and offered out a poultice. “It’ll patch any contusion and bring down the swelling.” She waited until the gift was taken or would count to ten and simply set it down. She smiled pleasantly then excused herself with a mumble and disappeared behind the high back of the chair. She slipped through a rickety door into a dimly lit room that cast shadows into the vacant one where the slave rested.

Moments later, a towering figure made his way into the light. Boot heels clicked on the wooden floor with a rhythm that was slow enough to be intimidating but in truth, it was just meticulous posture. He wore simple robes of blue cotton and had his grey hair tied back in a ponytail that revealed an aged face with kind, yet sad eyes and a well-groomed beard. He casually walked around the chair in the middle of the room and sat a few feet away on the floor with his legs crossed. Once he placed his hands on his knees, he inhaled and smiled at the woman with green eyes. “Hello, Shiress. My name is Tanith.” He paused a moment then held up a hand to silence any interruptions she may plot. “I know you have questions but I want you to know that you’ll come to know further harm here. We are friends of people who choose to help one another rather than themselves.” He gave her a knowing look. “Now, I will answer any questions you may have I only ask that you go slow.” A set of slippered feet shuffled in as another young woman brought in a skin of water and some fresh fruit in a bowl. She handed them to SHiress then left and closed the door behind her. “What is it that you wish to know, child?”

[Shiress]

Oftentimes, when someone awakens from being knocked over the head, there comes a beacon from the other side; someone's voice calling out to them, a loud noise, or particular smell, something for the stunned consciousness to grab onto and be hauled back to reality. For Shiress, there was nothing but quiet. No crackling fire, no muffled voices, no pain stimuli. Nothing. A blank, utter nothingness that the slave's awareness slowly, pain painstakingly slowly, resurfaced into.

Bleary eyes blinked several times before focusing on the freckled smile before her face and when the woman spoke, the soft voice finally brought Shiress fully awake. Glancing down, Shiress took the offered curative with one hand, as the other reached around to the back of her head and gingerly set fingers to the goose egg the woman was evidently speaking of. The slave winced, but managed to give the kind stranger an appreciative smile before the woman took her exit.

As the slave's line of sight cleared further, Shiress spotted the little Dhani girl sitting off to the side and opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again with a click, hearing footsteps. Wary eyes watched as shadow and footsteps coalesced into a tall figure, and, as the stranger sat, Shiress studied his face, green eyes creasing to slits when the man forestalled any initial questions, having been startled upon hearing the strange man call her by name. Of course, she had instantly wanted to know how the man knew her name, but even as the man lifted his hand, causing her mouth to close yet against without a word, Shiress's gaze flicked to the name branded on her wrist, then back to the old man as he began to speak.

The slave listened carefully, intensively, eyes roving over the man's features, listening to his expressions and body language as much as she did his spoken words, but the man was like a brick wall, blocking off anything other than what he wanted the slave to interpret.

Shiress's eyes didn't leave the man as the plate of fruit was offered to her. The water-skin, she brought to her lips and drank thirstily, but the bowl of fruit, the slave offered to the Dhani girl, beckoning her to take it with a reassuring nod. Long after the bowl had left her hand, Shiress watched Tanith in silence, a plethora of questions running through her mind, but she knew better than to ask them, because she would most assuredly ask the wrong ones. Instead, the slave took another long pull from the skin, leaned forward, and fixed the man with a hard gaze.

"Right now I could come up with a dozen questions for you" she said, straining to keep her voice from shaking as cold uncertainty crept down her spine like a melting ice-sickle, "but you have gone through a lot of trouble to bring me here, so there is obviously something you want me to know and me asking blind questions want get us to that knowledge any quicker." Shiress leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest "So, Mr. Tanith, start with how you know my name and where you have brought me, then you can tell me what you want of me."

Beautiful Boxcode Credit: Rohka