To Freedom

I was alone in that room for days. Weeks maybe. I think. I don’t know how long I sat there; there wasn’t any natural light and I don’t know when I originally woke up. There was a bucket of dirty water that I finally caved and drank from when my thirst got too bad, but I drank as little as possible. Gods only know what filth was it in and I didn’t really want to get sick in here.

I was starting to wonder why they had left me in here. Did they forget about me? Were they planning on executing a bunch of us all at once? Or maybe they were stringing them out? I was almost looking forward to it. I was starving, sore from sleeping on the cold ground, and completely alone. I kept hoping for food, but I realized it was a rather stupid thought. Why would they waste food on someone who was scheduled to die? Oh gods. Die. I was going to die. Saying ‘executed’ just didn’t really make it seem real. It seemed like a punishment, like I was just going to go out, be punished or whipped or slapped on the wrist, or whatever punishment they came up with, and then sent back home. Death just sounds more permanent. During the times I dozed off I had nightmares of the people I loved dying or dead. My parents, bloated from dying at sea. My sister, the niece or nephew I never saw and never will see torn from her. All of my friends who we couldn’t warn ripped apart by the soldiers. I would come back to full wakefulness screaming. I mean, I’m fourteen, I won’t even be considered an adult for six more years. I won’t get my full horns until then. No. Now I’ll never get my full horns. They’ve been bound, and even if someone were to take it off now, they’d always be stunted. No matter what happens, even if I get out of here somehow, I’ll always been seen as less, as weak. And right now I feel weak. I mean, I have spent the last - day - week - month - lifetime - however long I’ve been in here crying. I curled back up in a ball - I had found that if I kept the lower wing folded tight into my back I had enough chain to use my other wing as a blanket. It made me feel a little less vulnerable, with a wing over me and my tail wrapped around me. I lay down with my back to the wall, facing the door that no one ever came through. I just wanted someone to come through it. Come in and tell me the punishment’s over, I can go home.

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I woke up some time later to voices. I still felt foggy, and I cursed myself for drinking the water. Whatever was in it must finally be wearing off. The things I had dreamed and thought during that period made me shudder. Sitting as still as possible, I tried to listen to what the two were saying without letting them know I woke up.

One voice sounded cold, and it sent shivers down my spine. Whoever was talking was not someone I wanted to mess with. The other sounded sibilant, and I could tell it was either a serpent were or a Naga. Now I was even more confused; they were non-human as well, so why weren’t they locked up as well?

“Are you sure this is it?” Cold voice asked.

There was something that sounded like a chuckle and the serpent responded. “Yesss. The massster wants to have complete control over ssssomething asss powerful assss it isss. You will train it accordingly?”

There was a pause, and then the other came back. “Yes, I can train it. It’s not what I’m used to, but they all break eventually.”

Break? Train? What in the nine hells were they talking about? It was getting obvious that I wasn’t back in Catonia, but then where the hell was I? Why was I being held like this? And most importantly, where were my parents?

“How long?”

“A year is the standard; it may take a bit more time for this one though; the older they are the harder it is. Bad habits to break and all.”

“Fine. Keep me posssted on your progresss. Remember, the massster wants it houssssebroken, not an empty sssshell. If it is possssible he would like to be the one to complete the job.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. Now let me do my job in peace.”

There was more hissing laughter and footsteps away. Well, at least I knew now it was a shifter and not a Naga. Not that I could see how that knowledge would do me any good. There was another set of footsteps that got closer to me and I realized that the other one was in my…room. Cell. Whatever. That gave me a very bad feeling that that conversation was about me.

I didn’t move as the man stood above me, but I couldn’t stop my heart from beating faster. I got a kick in the ribs and I groaned before I could stop it.

“Wake up. Feeding time.”

Food? That sounded too good to be true, especially after being kicked. I rubbed at my bruised side, grateful that the rib didn’t seem broken. But he had scrapped off a few scales, and that wasn’t pleasant.

“Are you deaf beast?” A bowl was pushed in front of my face with half rancid meat. “Eat.”

I felt nauseous looking at what he expected me to eat, and my temper got the best of me. “Where am I? You can’t keep me here! And I’m not eating that that…shit!” I tried not to curse since it usually got me a swat to the head, but I don’t think even my mother would blame me for cursing in this circumstance. What I got instead was a backhanded slap to my face. I went flying backwards, crushing my wings, and hurting my already bruised rib. The man was either stronger than he looked, or I had gotten weaker.

“Listen beast, you will do as I say, you will not talk, and you will be grateful for whatever you get. You are nothing; no one is coming for you. The ship we got you off of went down and we made sure the only one that got off it was you. Even if you had anyone other than those pathetic creatures you called parents, they won’t come looking for you. You are nothing but a beast, a dog, and you will stay in your place.” With that he jerked my head forward, until my face was in the bowl, and I got a good whiff of the rotting meat. Gagging I tried to pull back up but he wasn’t having any of it. Holding my head down with one hand, he forced my mouth open with the other. Now the smell was even worse and I could taste it as well. “Well dog? Are you going to eat? We’ll stay like this until you do.” I was getting sick of being called beast and dog, but it was worse to have my face in that disgusting bowl. I finally grabbed a piece of the meat - I really didn’t want to think what it came from - with my teeth and tried to chew and swallow as quickly as I could. The man tsked at me. “Slowly mutt; don’t want to choke. I know how good it tastes, but you won’t be able to get the flavour if you eat it too fast.”

We continued like that, me bent over the bowl, the smell of the rancid meat making me struggle to keep what I ate down, and him holding me and making sadistic comments, until the bowl was empty. My stomach was turning, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it down much longer. As soon as I swallowed the last piece he released my hair and I lost the contents of my stomach. I could tell without even looking up the man was furious. I scrambled up and rushed to the other side of the room. A cruel smile spread over his face, and I couldn’t help the low growl and the mantling of my wings. He turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. I straightened up from my defensive position and stared at the door in confusion. Why had he just left? I was happy he wasn’t about to hit me again, but that smile had promised pain and yet he had turned and walked away. I settled down on the floor, still not feeling well, and afraid to go back to sleep. Yea, it was gross to have to be in the same room as where I threw up, but hells, I had been forced to piss in here as well, the smell couldn’t get much worse.

Instead I gave some thought to my situation. Apparently this was all part of the ‘training’ business the men were discussing. I shuddered, it seemed like I had ended up in one of those places who assumed that if you don’t look human, you’re just an animal. I knew there were places like that; we had read about it in school, it was just something that no one thought they’d ever have to deal with. This was really bad news for me, because no one in authority would help me. My parents would be in the same situation, or similar. The man had said they were dead, but he wasn’t exactly a trustworthy figure. I wouldn’t believe it until I had proof. I fought down my panic; it couldn’t be too bad. This ‘master’ person sounded like he wanted me as some sort of exotic pet. Once I was finished with this barbaric training, I’d probably be sent to some rich fat snob’s mansion. They’d ‘ooh’ and ‘aaah’ at my wings and horns and compliment him on taming such a fierce beast. There would have to be a chance to get away; even if they never unchained my wings someone would slip eventually. If they truly thought nonhumans were beneath them, they underestimate what I would do to get free. I would have to act well-behaved, but really grovelling to a bunch of stupid nobles wouldn’t kill me, just hurt my pride a bit. Staying in this hellhole just to try to prove something would be worse. Here it was clear there was no way of escaping, and the man obviously wasn’t afraid to cause me pain. Once I was out of here I wouldn’t have to tell anyone about what I would have to do.

Before I could start planning my escape, the door opened again and the man slipped through, smile still permanently in place. “Since you don’t seem to understand your position here yet, I thought I’d give you a hand remembering it. I was going to wait until the next feeding time, but we’ll push it up a bit since you seemed to enjoy your meal so much.” I tried to back away from him, but my back was already to the wall. A punch to my midsection and I was hunched over. Another one and I was on the floor gasping for air. I heard and felt chains go around my bent knees and wrists. I tried to pull away and he wrapped more chains around my waist. He got back up, still grinning, and walked towards the door. “Have a good night mutt.”

I tried to stand up, and realized that the chains kept me on my hands and knees. They were attached to the chain on my wings and both were hooked up to the collar. Absolutely miserable, I tried to curl up in the position I had found, but now I couldn’t even use my wing as a blanket. Exhausted, I passed out anyway.

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It was another two weeks before I saw my ‘trainer’ again. I hadn’t noticed at the time but when he brought in the chains he had refilled the water; it was of course drugged again, but eventually I had to give in and drink it. I was ravenously hungry by that time, and even if the chains had been off, I doubt I could have moved much. Understanding what was going on, I realized they were trying to make sure I was weak. In the back of my mind the little voice that denied this situation mourned the loss of the muscles I had just started to develop. I wouldn’t make a very impressive Dracan if I was all weak and scrawny looking. I also wouldn’t make a very impressive ‘pet’ to this ‘Master’ like this.

“So, mutt, are you going to behave today? We’re going to do something different. Your food is going to be a reward. For whatever command you follow, you get a piece of meat. For whatever commands you don’t follow, you get a punishment. Sound fair?”

“No.” Damn my mouth! I was supposed to play nice, pretend to be a good ‘pet’ or whatever so I could get the hell out of here. Well, I suppose it sounded good, but damn this guy just got me mad. He acted so superior. I’d like to see him act superior if I wasn’t chained up, drugged and half starved. I may be young, but I’m still a Dracan. We’d see if he still had the guts to hit me if I was at my normal strength.

But he almost seemed pleased at my response. “Still got some fight in you mutt? That’s fine; we’ll knock that out of you quick enough.” He grabbed me by a horn and dragged me into the centre of the little room. I had opened my mouth to protest the treatment when something foul-tasting was shoved in. “Now there won’t be any more interruptions. I figure you’ll probably get enough punishments without adding to them by talking. I would have thought it obvious, but pets don’t talk. Ever. Not when you’re by yourself, not when spoken to, or for any reason. Hopefully the gag will be enough; cutting out tongues is such a messy solution, and leads to other...issues.”

Was this guy serious? Did he really think I would believe that they would do that? I guess my thoughts were obvious, because the man just smirked. “Well, that decides our first command. You should be excited; you get to leave your room. You will follow me, two steps behind and to my left. We are going to go visit another pet.” He turned to leave the cell, clearly expecting me to follow him. And truthfully, I did try (I was, admittedly, curious, and it could only help me to escape if I knew my way around) but I still couldn’t stand and fell back down in a clatter of metal. The trainer turned around, sneering. “What are you doing? Is it that difficult a concept to walk? I thought we’d get through at least this one without a punishment at least.” He walked back towards me, and clipped a...leash... onto my collar. What. The. Hell. Unable to voice my displeasure through the gag in my mouth I just glared at him. I got a smack on the back of my head for my efforts. “Don’t look at me like that. This barely counts as a punishment; now come on.” He tugged at the leash and I tripped forward, landing on my hands. He continued walking and I was practically dragged along the hallway. Luckily we didn’t get too far before stopping in front of another door.

“This is one of our older pets. Because of his...deformities...he can’t be sold, so he has to stay here. It’s a shame, as he was a very pretty pet, but he was too disobedient. Keep this in mind mutt, whenever you think of disobeying. If you won’t make a good pet, that doesn’t mean you get to go free. Once you get to a certain point, we give up on training and you will rot in that room. The other one like this ended up starving to death – her handler forgot to feed her a bit too long. We have better things to do than look after rabid dogs after all. This one’s only purpose is to serve as a warning. “

Even being told all of that I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. The man – even though he still looked like a boy it was obvious in his eyes he was much older – looked more than half dead. He also smelled it. When he said that they were left to rot he wasn’t far off the mark. The other was naked as well, and looked to be an earth Fae. Rather figures; those guys are stubborn as hell. His eyes and hair which should have been rich browns were dulled with pain and dirt, and while his hair was long it was obviously because no one could be bothered to cut it. It lay in snarls and tangles on the floor behind him. His once probably tan skin was crisscrossed with scars and faded to a greyish tinge. His fingers had obviously been broken and set incorrectly; it looked like that may have happened to his wrist as well. But what would have had me covering myself f I had been able is that he had clearly been castrated. I wished I could ask if that was something standard or if he had done something to earn that. I would beg, bark, whatever they wanted me to do to keep myself...intact.

“See mutt, this is what happens if you insist on trying to rise above your place. He thought he could stand like a person – we started with just cutting his feet to discourage him, but finally we had to cut the tendons in his ankles so he physically couldn’t stand.” He pried the other man’s mouth open, who was still, amazingly, putting up a fight. I guess he figured things couldn’t get much worse. “If you didn’t believe me about the tongue thing, here’s your proof.’ And sure enough, there was just a disgusting looking lump where his tongue should have been. From the looks of it they truly had just cut it out – it was ragged and looked like it may have been infected at one point. “Now, since it’s obvious that he couldn’t be sold to someone in this condition, we use him as an example, as I said, but also to take out our frustrations. We can’t be damaging valuable merchandise, after all.” I supposed that was where his scars came from. When he had moved away when the trainer released his mouth, I could see scars lining his entire back, obviously from a whip. There were also burn marks, and scars that had to come from a knife. Bruises littered his skin, including clear handprints on his arms and legs. The poor man was truly used as a punching bag. I also couldn’t help but notice that nothing was said about his castration, which had me shaking in feat that it was done to all ‘pets’

It just didn’t make sense to me. Yea, I had my pride, but it wasn’t worth the abuse he had been shown. There was clearly no way to escape these rooms – there were no windows, only one very firmly locked door, and even if he could have easily moved the stone with his gifts, he had that collar preventing it. And that was besides the fact that we were naked and drugged. Even if someone managed to escape, it’s not like you’d get far like that. No, I would stick to my plan; sure I had already failed at acting obedient once, but that could actually work better. I’m sure he’d realize it was an act if I was already acting perfectly behaved. Now, if I acted like he wanted me to, he would think his scare tactic worked. And it did, in its own way. It just made me more determined than ever to get out of here. I’d get out, find my parents, get to Phyla, and forget this whole thing had ever happened.

He pulled on my leash again, dragging me out of my thoughts. “So, are you going to be a good pet, or are you going to end up a mangy, used, waste of flesh like this thing here?” Well, I couldn’t actually answer him whether I wanted to or not, so I tried to look reasonably scared. I guess it appeased him as he smirked, turned around and started walking out of the room. I followed, getting the hang of this crawling deal, even though my knees were hurting from the stone floors. We got back to my ‘room’ and he thankfully took off the collar. The rest of the commands he gave me were stupid but humiliating, and while I did everything he asked me, I couldn’t keep my face from heating up, both from shame and anger. He had me literally grovel, beg, and roll over, all things that you would actually ask a dog. I really didn’t understand the point of having a person act like a pet, but it was obvious that the wealthy and the nobility in this place were into it. The more dangerous the pet the better and more powerful you were?

He actually called me a ‘good boy’ and gave me a pat on the head, and I think that was the worst part of the experience. I told my pride to shove it and concentrated on not growling or mantling my wings. That hideous gag was taken out and I was given some of that nasty meat. It was actually edible this time, dried out and not really cooked through, but at least it hadn’t gone bad and I could choke it down without throwing it all up again. He refilled the water, and walked out. I wondered how long it would be before I saw him next.

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It turned out that my true ‘training’ had officially started and I saw my ‘trainer’ every couple of days, or thereabouts. It was still hard to tell time in here. He had me doing degrading, embarrassing things, and without fail I would balk at something at least once each ‘session’ and I would get punished. Usually with that gag, as I normally would start to say something. That was what I was afraid of the most. I didn’t worry about standing, since with the chains I couldn’t, but if he really did go through with his threat that would affect the rest of my life. I would already suffer from my stunted horns; I couldn’t handle being mute as well. I knew he wouldn’t scar me, not yet, and I was really, really hoping that I wasn’t going to lose my balls; although he hadn’t said why the Fae had lost his, so I couldn’t plan on how to avoid that fate myself. Standing wasn’t an issue since I physically couldn’t with all the chains wrapped around me.

The worst failure however was when the man actually asked me to lick his feet. Seriously, what was that? It was disgusting, smelly, and try as I might I ended up throwing up. On him, of course. This earned me being chained to the wall, gagged, and belted across the back a dozen times. Now I understood what he meant by the trainers taking out their frustrations on the ‘failed’ pet; he clearly wanted to hurt me more, but didn’t want to do permanent damage. When he slammed out of the room I shuddered to think of what that other poor man would have to go through because of my failure to control my body.

A few weeks later and I felt I was slowly getting the hang of it. The solution had come to me purely by accident. He had pulled me across the room by my tail, and out of reflex I had turned and attempted to attack him. He had beaten me nearly senseless, and I had found myself falling into the trance state my father had taught me to focus my magic when I was first learning. I could remember us sitting together in the parlour, and I couldn’t sit still because I could smell my mother’s baking from the kitchen. It really was asking too much for a six year old to sit still, but I did my best, listening to my father’s rough voice telling me what to do. That first session I remember wondering how I could think of nothing. The second you try to think of nothing, you have to think of something! But months later I was successful and as soon as I was able to do that the rest came easy. Once I had gotten better at focusing my magic, I asked my dad why we had to learn how to fall into that trance if we never used it, and he laughed. He had asked his father the same exact question, so he would answer the same way as well. While I didn’t need to go into a trance to use my abilities, being able to clear my mind of everything would allow me to focus on what I was doing, and there was less chance of getting distracted. I wouldn’t want to be aiming to start a fire and end up blowing up the kitchen after all. There was no predicting when you would need to completely clear your mind in order to get something done.

I had cowered, whined, everything ‘pet-like’ I could do to make him stop. I had begged, pleaded, screamed, and the same thing, not even a reprimand for talking. Eventually I just stopped thinking and I found that going into the trance stopped the pain. I stayed in the trance even when someone who was clearly a doctor came in and told the trainer he should be damn glad he had only broken a few ribs and nothing noticeable. I only snapped out of it when he had come back in, without saying a word, and left food that looked and smelled decent. It was all I could do to keep myself from devouring it and making myself sick.

The next time the trainer came I tried to drop myself back down into that trance state. It didn’t work the first time. I got hit several times for not paying him enough attention. A few more sessions however, and I had managed to go far enough in where I felt like I was just watching what was happening but I could still move and respond to his commands. The next few sessions went flawlessly, and while I could tell the trainer wanted to find something wrong so he could punish me, he couldn’t. I started getting rewards instead, demeaning as they were. I lost some of the chains, and now, even though I wouldn’t, I could physically stand. My legs and arms were still connected to each other and my wings, but they were no longer as heavy or hindering. I also got a ‘toilet’ if you could call it that. They removed a few stones in the corner that I hadn’t noticed could be moved, and there was a dirt hole underneath that I could take care of things in. It was utterly degrading, but at least it made the room smell less, and they even sent someone who looked to be a human slave, or possibly a Were, to clean it once a week.

Apparently that part of my ‘training’ was over, because after that I stopped seeing the trainer. The cleaning slave continued to come in once a week, but he was must have been under the same restriction as me not to talk. He barely even looked in my direction. This went on for several weeks – he’d come in, put down a bowl of usually somewhat edible meat, clean the ‘toilet’ and leave, all without sparing me a glance. I was starting to get really nervous. What was coming next? Was I being abandoned down here? I thought the whole ‘obedience’ thing was what they were looking for, but maybe I had been wrong. I still remembered what the serpent Were had said about the ‘Master’ wanting to complete the training, so I had to assume I wasn’t done here yet. Maybe they had seen through my act and knew I wasn’t really broken, or I had ‘broken’ too fast and now this mysterious ‘Master’ no longer wanted me. Gods only knew what was going to happen to me. Would I become a living punching bag to the trainers or would they just leave me to starve? I guess the fact that my cell was still being cleaned and I was still getting fed was a good sign, but I couldn’t be sure. They could have just forgotten to tell him to stop.

After, by my count, six weeks without seeing the trainer, the cleaning slave stopped coming. The water I was left with was running out, and although they had stopped drugging it once I started ‘training’ I forced myself to drink it as sparingly as possible. The food was long gone, and the smell, which had never completely gone away, had started to build back to nauseating levels. It didn’t help that in the entire time I had been here I hadn’t been allowed to bathe. Without the slave’s arrival it was also easy for me to lose track of time. I knew the training had been about two months, and the slave had been coming for a month and a half, so I had been here for at least four months, but now I was getting back to that same state as the beginning where I had no idea how much time was passing. I just knew this time I had gone much longer than any of the previous times. The food was a distant memory, and the hunger pangs were such a constant I didn’t even notice them anymore. Finally, the water ran out, and I realized that they had indeed left me in here to die.

tbc...