-=-
"She closed her eyes and tried not to think about how she had nearly died, waiting for someone to come along and save her. She shivered. 'I'll never do that again,' she thought. 'Next time I'll save myself.'"
-Liam Tanner, Museum of Thieves
-=-
"She closed her eyes and tried not to think about how she had nearly died, waiting for someone to come along and save her. She shivered. 'I'll never do that again,' she thought. 'Next time I'll save myself.'"
-Liam Tanner, Museum of Thieves
-=-
Azra laid across her back, breathing hard from the floor as her hands pressed against her chest. She looked blank in expression, as pale as her tanned skin seemed to be able to get, save for if she were dead. Though the stillness of her almost appeared as if she'd done such, her fingers digging into the fabric of her dress as if she were trying to keep herself together a moment. Her eyes flickered around before suddenly the Songaskia's face appeared over her, leaning over her fallen figure as he flexed his fingers, briefly shaking his hand off before stepping backwards.
"Get up," he said roughly, stepping backwards and turning away from her with a sigh, pressing his fingers to his tattooed face. The sixteen year old carefully pulled herself to her bare feet, her dress shifting as she brushed it off with shaky fingers. Her cheek stung across the handprint that was stamped across it, though it was beginning to fade.
"I.. I didn't really mean-" Her stumbled words were swiftly cut off like another palm cracking through the air.
"You couldn't have accidentally ran away, brown-skin. That was not an accident." He looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. His beige eyes were nearly white as the flamed light reflected. The Qadir girl turned her head down to consider her feet rather than examine the man's eyes.
"I was going to come back," she finally stated in a hushed manner, twisting her fingers as her toes wiggled against the sandy floor. She noted that she'd need to tell Dana the floor was a bit dirty in the morning. Though it only took a moment more before she remember: Dana was gone, that's right. There was no Dana to sweep anymore after she was sent away.
"You shouldn't have left at all. Do you understand that I could legally beat you till you died for what you did, you stupid little girl? Were you taught nothing as a child about how things work?" The man paced across the room, a habit she always saw him do and one that she noticed herself picking up. This was one of the few Songaskia that she could handle, one of the few that was patient with her, but she knew she was digging her grave from her actions when he curled his fingers around the iron collar secured around her throat.
"Well? Tell me!" A squawk of panic escaped her as her collar was yanked, heaving a breath as if she were being choked when truly there was barely any pressure against her throat. Her girlish fear was sending her into a panic and she knew if she didn't calm it, she was more than likely to lose her sense and fall into a slump.
The slave would rather not be thrown out to the forum for being faint of heart, especially after all she's already seen. No, she was far from faint.
"My mother and father were not slaves until many years after my birth! They never taught me anything to do with such, it was unneeded as we were free folk." Her words spilled out, unfiltered though she knew the reaction she'd get. He scoffed, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling as his lips scrunched into a condescending expression.
"Brown-skin. It was foolish for your parents to ever think that, Qadir like yourself don't deserve to be free. You might be some charming girl, but it's clear you're more foolish than understandable when not being watched by the educated. Is that true?" Azra began to shake her head as she was questioned, though his hand soon enough clasped her chin, holding her answer still as his lips drooped into a frown. "No, of course. You'd be stupid enough to believe you could fare fine without a master, but then again. Were your kin not the dull ones that traveled around in caravans and were easily snatched up."
He released her with a shove, sending her scrambling backwards, her feet rustling the sand that brushed across the floor. "Get out of my sight, would you. It's late, I'll have you lashed tomorrow." The child gave a soft sound of protest before she swiftly locked her lips back together, silencing herself with watery eyes- though she didn't sniff. Without a look back, she scrambled away again, towards her quarters, though squeezing into a bed would be effort after missing any chance at first pick.
Not that it mattered. Dana was gone, one of her only friends.
When she arrived, she decided against taking a bed entirely. She shuffled through the snore filled room that the Qadir slaves slept in, sliding to sit once she reached the wall and pulling her knees close. "I don't want to be lashed," Azra whispered to herself. "I don't want to be hit anymore, I want to get away. I should've run farther." But the shouts of the Songaskia men chasing her, repeating from memory, reminded her that it was foolish to think that she could've continued running. They would've stayed at her heels, even if it took her dying of exhaustion to haul her back.
"Get up," he said roughly, stepping backwards and turning away from her with a sigh, pressing his fingers to his tattooed face. The sixteen year old carefully pulled herself to her bare feet, her dress shifting as she brushed it off with shaky fingers. Her cheek stung across the handprint that was stamped across it, though it was beginning to fade.
"I.. I didn't really mean-" Her stumbled words were swiftly cut off like another palm cracking through the air.
"You couldn't have accidentally ran away, brown-skin. That was not an accident." He looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. His beige eyes were nearly white as the flamed light reflected. The Qadir girl turned her head down to consider her feet rather than examine the man's eyes.
"I was going to come back," she finally stated in a hushed manner, twisting her fingers as her toes wiggled against the sandy floor. She noted that she'd need to tell Dana the floor was a bit dirty in the morning. Though it only took a moment more before she remember: Dana was gone, that's right. There was no Dana to sweep anymore after she was sent away.
"You shouldn't have left at all. Do you understand that I could legally beat you till you died for what you did, you stupid little girl? Were you taught nothing as a child about how things work?" The man paced across the room, a habit she always saw him do and one that she noticed herself picking up. This was one of the few Songaskia that she could handle, one of the few that was patient with her, but she knew she was digging her grave from her actions when he curled his fingers around the iron collar secured around her throat.
"Well? Tell me!" A squawk of panic escaped her as her collar was yanked, heaving a breath as if she were being choked when truly there was barely any pressure against her throat. Her girlish fear was sending her into a panic and she knew if she didn't calm it, she was more than likely to lose her sense and fall into a slump.
The slave would rather not be thrown out to the forum for being faint of heart, especially after all she's already seen. No, she was far from faint.
"My mother and father were not slaves until many years after my birth! They never taught me anything to do with such, it was unneeded as we were free folk." Her words spilled out, unfiltered though she knew the reaction she'd get. He scoffed, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling as his lips scrunched into a condescending expression.
"Brown-skin. It was foolish for your parents to ever think that, Qadir like yourself don't deserve to be free. You might be some charming girl, but it's clear you're more foolish than understandable when not being watched by the educated. Is that true?" Azra began to shake her head as she was questioned, though his hand soon enough clasped her chin, holding her answer still as his lips drooped into a frown. "No, of course. You'd be stupid enough to believe you could fare fine without a master, but then again. Were your kin not the dull ones that traveled around in caravans and were easily snatched up."
He released her with a shove, sending her scrambling backwards, her feet rustling the sand that brushed across the floor. "Get out of my sight, would you. It's late, I'll have you lashed tomorrow." The child gave a soft sound of protest before she swiftly locked her lips back together, silencing herself with watery eyes- though she didn't sniff. Without a look back, she scrambled away again, towards her quarters, though squeezing into a bed would be effort after missing any chance at first pick.
Not that it mattered. Dana was gone, one of her only friends.
When she arrived, she decided against taking a bed entirely. She shuffled through the snore filled room that the Qadir slaves slept in, sliding to sit once she reached the wall and pulling her knees close. "I don't want to be lashed," Azra whispered to herself. "I don't want to be hit anymore, I want to get away. I should've run farther." But the shouts of the Songaskia men chasing her, repeating from memory, reminded her that it was foolish to think that she could've continued running. They would've stayed at her heels, even if it took her dying of exhaustion to haul her back.
-=-
A hand shook against her shoulder, waking her. Azra blinked her dark eyes and lifted her head sluggishly to acknowledge the woman in front of her.
"Child? Child, wake up." The words rattled her farther; Faraddi. She tilted her head back, leaning it against the wall, though before she could ask questions, the woman was hauling her to her feet, arms beneath Azra's.
"What are you doing?" Azra asked, though it was in her owner's tongue of Sofaal instead of her own. It bothered her, somewhere at the back of her mind, that she took first to talking in the language of murderers instead of innocents.
"You have to wake up, there's a fire. Azra? Azra, wake up." That was when she remembered the woman's name.
"Khalah? What.. what fire?" But she was already being pushed away as the woman rushed on to collect someone else slumbering on the floor. It did feel like smoke was in Azra's head, but she couldn't tell if it was a fire's or sleep's. The room was oddly silently, and she blinked awake more as she moved for the doorway- fear was starting to prickle at her skin as she realized everyone was gone from the room save a few. Perhaps there really was a panic.
The girl hired through the gloomy halls and she blew past the door of the kitchen, pausing as a blaze seemed to dance across her skin, heat that should never come in the night. The Qadir turned her face towards the room and gave a gasp as she spotted it, the fire that was swallowing the room whole, and she knew would not take long to grasp the rest of the house. It would slither along the rugs and banners that filled the estate, like a black, curling snake of demise.
A choked feeling to scream filled Azra, but something gripped her. Something told her to say nothing, and so she whipped about and kept sprinting, her dress hiked up to her knees in her hands to keep from curling around her ankles and tripping her. She wondered what it would be like to wear pants and do this, how much faster could she go in trousers, but that thought crashed away as she banged through the front door of the house and stumbled across the sandstone street outside.
A crowd of Qadir filled the street, some sitting on the side of the road, though all looking unsure of themselves. A younger boy moved through the crowd to grab onto Azra's wrist, tugging on her arm and seeming to smile up at her, though he was panting and trying to catch his breath.
"Azra, are you okay?" He asked. His teeth had a small gap, she noticed at how close she was, the same height as the fourteen year old as he seemed to be getting taller unlike her.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Why is everyone just standing around?" She looked about frantically and then through the dark, but deserted, streets. Her friend just appeared puzzled, Bashshar resting his free hand on the girl's shoulder.
"What do you... mean? Are we suppose to be doing something?"
"What do you mean? You can be running!" She whispered towards him in a panic, going to lift her own hands and grab his sleeves, stepping towards the dark road.
"Running? Azra, we'll get caught- again. I... I don't want to get whipped more than we're already due for." The sixteen year old girl gave a bit of a disgusted look towards her friend.
"No one is awake, not yet. But that fire will alert them soon, they're not going to be counting our heads until all of those monsters are counted for, or confirmed dead. Bashshar, this is our chance, come on!" She tugged at his sleeved again, despite her loud manner, she didn't wear her usual smile with this tone. Her eyes were just wide and filled with desperation to escape.
"I don't want to be lashed. And I don't want to die." The boy stood still in his spot, not being dragged around any longer by the older girl since he reached her height. Azra squeezed her eyes shut and just kept her fingers curled around her only remaining friend's wrists, shaking her head a bit.
"You will do both if you stay here, please. Come on, you're the closest I have to anyone, we could say we're siblings and join a caravan, and find your parents, Bashshar."
"Mine? What about yours?"
"Mine are long since slaves, yours might still be free, you don't know." But, despite her begging, he kept shaking his head and she could feel the sand running thin in the hourglass.
"I'm not going-"
"Please-"
"No."
The girl stared at him, shaking his arms a moment before she abruptly shoved him off, a sneer appearing on her face. She could feel something dark bubbling up inside her, something that prompted her she step away from her only friend remaining. Something that had her spit, "Fine. Stay here and die."
Bashshar looked on at her with shocked, curling his empty hands in the Farah'deen air as he scanned her face for something. Though, she just held an angry look on her face, one that never had truly crossed before. She could feel hatred leaking from her, they'd survived so long and even attempted to escape before, but here he was. Here this boy stood with a look of fear and refusing to take the escape offered.
"Azra, please."
Though it was too late, and she twisted in the darkness to run into it. She spirited away like a a desert Sadier, a demon hiding just out of sight. And Azra did not look back onto her friend as she turned the corner, nor did she think about his expression of terror when she was midturn until much later. Instead, she squeezed through corners and nicks until she reached the outside, she reached freedom where a merchant cart waited. There, she traded away the last piece of home, her only piece of jewelry that belonged to her sister.
The girl slouched beneath the blanket she was given in the back of the cart, curling her legs close to herself in the house uniform, while the house was no more than embers. So it was not even a uniform, and there she tilted her head back towards the sky to consider that she was almost free.
She had saved herself, and only herself. She would always save herself, no matter who she had to leave behind to do it. That is what she learned as she considered the expression on Bashshar's face as the sun rose on her merchant's cart.
And she didn't have any remorse that she was living only for herself now.
"Child? Child, wake up." The words rattled her farther; Faraddi. She tilted her head back, leaning it against the wall, though before she could ask questions, the woman was hauling her to her feet, arms beneath Azra's.
"What are you doing?" Azra asked, though it was in her owner's tongue of Sofaal instead of her own. It bothered her, somewhere at the back of her mind, that she took first to talking in the language of murderers instead of innocents.
"You have to wake up, there's a fire. Azra? Azra, wake up." That was when she remembered the woman's name.
"Khalah? What.. what fire?" But she was already being pushed away as the woman rushed on to collect someone else slumbering on the floor. It did feel like smoke was in Azra's head, but she couldn't tell if it was a fire's or sleep's. The room was oddly silently, and she blinked awake more as she moved for the doorway- fear was starting to prickle at her skin as she realized everyone was gone from the room save a few. Perhaps there really was a panic.
The girl hired through the gloomy halls and she blew past the door of the kitchen, pausing as a blaze seemed to dance across her skin, heat that should never come in the night. The Qadir turned her face towards the room and gave a gasp as she spotted it, the fire that was swallowing the room whole, and she knew would not take long to grasp the rest of the house. It would slither along the rugs and banners that filled the estate, like a black, curling snake of demise.
A choked feeling to scream filled Azra, but something gripped her. Something told her to say nothing, and so she whipped about and kept sprinting, her dress hiked up to her knees in her hands to keep from curling around her ankles and tripping her. She wondered what it would be like to wear pants and do this, how much faster could she go in trousers, but that thought crashed away as she banged through the front door of the house and stumbled across the sandstone street outside.
A crowd of Qadir filled the street, some sitting on the side of the road, though all looking unsure of themselves. A younger boy moved through the crowd to grab onto Azra's wrist, tugging on her arm and seeming to smile up at her, though he was panting and trying to catch his breath.
"Azra, are you okay?" He asked. His teeth had a small gap, she noticed at how close she was, the same height as the fourteen year old as he seemed to be getting taller unlike her.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. Why is everyone just standing around?" She looked about frantically and then through the dark, but deserted, streets. Her friend just appeared puzzled, Bashshar resting his free hand on the girl's shoulder.
"What do you... mean? Are we suppose to be doing something?"
"What do you mean? You can be running!" She whispered towards him in a panic, going to lift her own hands and grab his sleeves, stepping towards the dark road.
"Running? Azra, we'll get caught- again. I... I don't want to get whipped more than we're already due for." The sixteen year old girl gave a bit of a disgusted look towards her friend.
"No one is awake, not yet. But that fire will alert them soon, they're not going to be counting our heads until all of those monsters are counted for, or confirmed dead. Bashshar, this is our chance, come on!" She tugged at his sleeved again, despite her loud manner, she didn't wear her usual smile with this tone. Her eyes were just wide and filled with desperation to escape.
"I don't want to be lashed. And I don't want to die." The boy stood still in his spot, not being dragged around any longer by the older girl since he reached her height. Azra squeezed her eyes shut and just kept her fingers curled around her only remaining friend's wrists, shaking her head a bit.
"You will do both if you stay here, please. Come on, you're the closest I have to anyone, we could say we're siblings and join a caravan, and find your parents, Bashshar."
"Mine? What about yours?"
"Mine are long since slaves, yours might still be free, you don't know." But, despite her begging, he kept shaking his head and she could feel the sand running thin in the hourglass.
"I'm not going-"
"Please-"
"No."
The girl stared at him, shaking his arms a moment before she abruptly shoved him off, a sneer appearing on her face. She could feel something dark bubbling up inside her, something that prompted her she step away from her only friend remaining. Something that had her spit, "Fine. Stay here and die."
Bashshar looked on at her with shocked, curling his empty hands in the Farah'deen air as he scanned her face for something. Though, she just held an angry look on her face, one that never had truly crossed before. She could feel hatred leaking from her, they'd survived so long and even attempted to escape before, but here he was. Here this boy stood with a look of fear and refusing to take the escape offered.
"Azra, please."
Though it was too late, and she twisted in the darkness to run into it. She spirited away like a a desert Sadier, a demon hiding just out of sight. And Azra did not look back onto her friend as she turned the corner, nor did she think about his expression of terror when she was midturn until much later. Instead, she squeezed through corners and nicks until she reached the outside, she reached freedom where a merchant cart waited. There, she traded away the last piece of home, her only piece of jewelry that belonged to her sister.
The girl slouched beneath the blanket she was given in the back of the cart, curling her legs close to herself in the house uniform, while the house was no more than embers. So it was not even a uniform, and there she tilted her head back towards the sky to consider that she was almost free.
She had saved herself, and only herself. She would always save herself, no matter who she had to leave behind to do it. That is what she learned as she considered the expression on Bashshar's face as the sun rose on her merchant's cart.
And she didn't have any remorse that she was living only for herself now.
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