A manic type of giggle began to ripple through her chest until it bubbled up through her throat and erupted into the winds, whipped away to distant parts of the maze within which they both now sat. The wind shifted her robes, caused her hair to block her vision intermittently and all but made it impossible to feel anything but the chilled gusts. She could not help the sounds, the wracking of her body as her head came to rest between her knees at the conclusion of Ana’s story. She didn’t mean any offense by it, she thought her story was a terribly tragic one. She should have known, her own story eerily similar indeed. She quelled her sounds quickly, coughing in air after the episode.
“I’m sorry Ana, so sorry! It’s just, you pretty much described my life – give or take a few details” she told what must have been a mildly bewildered woman. She sighed a little then, her thoughts turning towards the comparisons that could be made between their tales.
Despite herself she could not but think that Ana had not told her everything, her innate intuitions throbbing into practice as she dissected the other woman’s story and wondered whether it was truth, fiction or a blend of both. Ana had all but admitted to concealing her past, had just commented upon Zandelia’s own penchant for secrecy. It came with her job, she always told herself that, though now she was beginning to wonder if it was a way of keeping herself adrift from those whom might harm her – or everyone. It was then that she noticed Ana’s biting of her hand, her shuddering body as if about to cry. Sympathy sparked within her chest and she knew it could not be entirely an untruth.
No, no lies perhaps. Or rather, simple ones to describe general events. But those emotions are real. There are gaps in her tale, but the majority of it is true, I think. At least the family part she told herself, musing upon how to reciprocate in kind.
She pulled out the old dagger from her right boot, always kept safe despite the loathing it created, the corruption of it against her body always causing her skin to crawl should she focus upon its presence. She turned it in her hands, studying it once more though she knew every inch of it by memory. How many years had she carried it with love? How many nights had it given her comfort, her only possession of her family? And now, now it was nothing but the weapon that would strike the final blow – exorcize her past for good. The hilt was gold plated, not solid of course. The blade solid steel and slightly curved. The pommel held the symbol of her father – a mask with a dagger through its form.
“See this dagger,” she began, passing it to Ana to hold and look over as she wished, giving her something to compose herself around, “this was my father’s. I kept it for years, to remind me of him and my mother. She was killed when I was a girl, killed by slavers who came for me” she heaved a deep sigh as memory flickered behind her single eye, frame after frame of perfect recall – hated recall.
“It was my only possession I was allowed to keep, mostly because I was sold to a relatively nice wealthy man and I’d fight like a goddess to stop them taking it away. My father was killed also, or that was what I was told,” she continued, the tears not springing up anymore, they had dried up long ago.
“Slave I was, maid and cook. Chief floor scrubber and privy cleaner. It was alright, I suppose, whilst I was a slip of a thing. It was when I grew older, gained the figure I have now, that life became rather more brutal. Raped by my master whenever he desired, forced to learn the arts of pleasuring others. Orgies, guardsmen, visiting friends of the family – anyone and everyone”
“Hah! And everyone thinks I learnt those skills because I used to be at Brega’s! One of my better cover stories, if I might say so!”
“At any rate, I managed to grasp my way to freedom, bloody as it was. It was after I grew pregnant and was beaten into losing the seed that I finally cracked. Killed some guards, my master, anyone and everyone. Lost my eye for freedom – a small price” she raised her finger to tap the side of her left temple a few times as, for the first time in years, her single good eye grew red and moist.
“Fell in with some bad crowds after that. Never got my body used again against my will, but got a few beatings. Almost killed a few times too. Scars I have, many of them. Learnt my talents though, intelligence and espionage for the most part. Information is more powerful than muscle in Sunberth after all”
“That dagger, I will keep. I will find my father, seeing as he is alive, and plunge it into his heart. I discovered that he sold me and my mother into slavery for a purse of gold. His ambition sated he fled Sunberth to…somewhere. My mother died protecting me,” she gritted her teeth, her knuckles white as her fists bunched with a horrible force, “and so I shall avenge her. After that…who knows?” she finished her own tale, her shoulder slumping.
“There, you know more about me than anyone alive. Do with it as you will Ana, I shall not stop you if you want to go your way. Just remember, I know where you have been, where you want to go, and the costs you might need to pay. Few others can say that with honesty to you”
With that her head was once more rested upon the foliage behind them, slightly tilted towards Ana’s this time. She dared not actually touch the woman lest whatever spell was being woven was broken. Still, she almost felt like she should put her arm around the woman.