Ten years later
The early morning light barely reached the corner of the slave quarters, where twenty-year-old Luna lay on a bed of hay, my body aching from another night of restless sleep. The cold air clung to my skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill inside my mind—the endless loop of dread, knowing today would be the same as the one before. The cycle never changed.
Memories of my childhood occasionally flickered through my mind, uninvited. While others could recall the warmth of family, Luna's memories were far more bitter. Most children might remember playing with their siblings or baking fresh bread with their parents. Not me. My first memory is my mother selling me like a piece of livestock. That was my welcome into this life—a life of chains and wheat fields. I was taken to the city of Wolves to be a wheat laborer, not the best thing in the world, but at least I wasn’t sold to a brothel.
have no friends here, but why would I? Everyone is just trying to survive, just like me.
The loud clanging of the work bell jolted Luna from her thoughts. Four a.m. sharp. Time to get up. Anyone who failed to rise promptly would face ten brutal lashes at the hands of the slave attendants—the ones who wielded the whip with the authority of their absent master.
I hate those bastards more than anyone. I never understood how they could sell their souls to the point that they'd turn on their own, just to avoid punishment themselves. But I get it, too. It’s survival, just like everything else. I sighed, bracing herself for another day.
“MOVE IT, MOVE IT! WE HAVE A DEADLINE TODAY!” One of the slave attendants barked from the walkway, his voice thick with authority. “GET YOUR ASSES TO WORK!”
I forced myself up, my body stiff, and made my way to the field. I preferred to start working before the sun rose; the heat wasn’t as punishing then. Grabbing a sickle, I bent low, slicing through the wheat in the dim pre-dawn light. The rhythm of the work became my meditation, a small escape from the crushing reality of my existence. The wheat stalks fell one by one until the first light of the sun crept across the horizon.
For a moment, I allowed myself to feel a small spark of pride. “I’ve really outdone myself today. Maybe I’ll finish early for once.” I wiped the sweat from my brow, savoring the fleeting sense of accomplishment.
But then, a sharp cry pierced the air. “NO! PLEASE! I DON’T WANT TO GO! PLEASE, HAVE MERCY!”
My heart clenched at the sound. I turned toward the voice, my pulse quickening. Across the field, she saw a young girl being berated by one of the slave attendants. The girl was trembling, tears streaming down her face as the attendant towered over her, whip raised, ready to strike.
“You haven’t even harvested half of the field yet! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!” the attendant snarled; his arm poised to unleash the first lash.
My feet moved before my mind caught up. I sprinted toward them, my sickle still in hand, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. The attendant heard me approach and spun around, adopting a defensive stance, his whip still raised. I glared at him, my expression cold as ice.
“Always ruining my fun, Luna,” he sneered, lowering his whip slightly, though his eyes still gleamed with cruel delight.
This one. He was the worst of the attendants. Not only did he love the power they gave him, he enjoyed using it to break others.
“Go ahead and help her,” he jeered. “But you know Sir Augustine won’t be too happy finding out his favorite toy is lending a hand. You’ll end up in the box for sure.”
The box. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. A dark, windowless room where slaves were tossed for days without food or water. Torture disguised as punishment. But at least it came with a break from the fields. Small consolation.
“I don’t care,” I snapped, my lips curling into a mocking smile. “Tell him if you want. But you and I both know what happens if you lay a finger on his favorite slave.” my smirk deepened as I watched his expression falter.
His eyes narrowed with frustration. “Don’t get cocky, half-breed,” he spat, stepping back. “I’ll be back.”
I watched him retreat with a satisfied smile. “What a coward.”
I turned to the trembling girl and knelt beside her. “Come on, let’s finish this together,” I said softly, offering the girl my hand. Together, they harvested the remaining wheat. As the day wore on, the sun beat down on them, I stayed by the girl’s side until the last stalk had been cut.
As I made my way back to the slave quarters, something caught my eye—a figure, cloaked in black, walking toward the city. The figure moved with an unnatural grace, almost like a shadow gliding through the streets. I squinted, trying to get a better look, but before I could focus, a voice I dreaded interrupted my thoughts.
“My sweet Luna, how have you been?” Sir Augustine’s voice oozed with false warmth as he approached, his eyes raking over my body with possessive hunger. “I’ve been busy with politics, but I haven’t forgotten you. How could I forget such an exquisite creature?”
I stayed silent, my stomach turning as his damp hands reached for me. While Augustine droned on about his plans, I kept my eyes on the mysterious figure, who had now drawn much closer. For a split second, our eyes met. Something in that brief exchange made my pulse race.
“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!” Augustine’s hand shot out, gripping my face, yanking me back to him.
“You and I are fated, Luna,” he hissed, his breath hot and rancid on my skin. “You’ll come to my chambers tonight. I’ll show you what a real man is.” His voice dripped with menace.
I nodded, my mind still on the figure, barely comprehending what I had just agreed to.
“Good girl,” Augustine said, his voice sickeningly sweet now. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I don't know what was wrong with me, but my gut was telling me to follow this mysterious man, so I followed him into the city
In the city, I kept my distance from the man, so he didn't notice I was following him. He walked for what seemed like forever and finally stopped at a tavern at the city's edge. He went in and talked to one of the servers. I'm not sure why, but I want to find out. I keep my head down, trying to listen in to their conversation; I can't hear a thing and I begin to get closer.
I lingered outside, my heart pounding in my chest. Why am I doing this?
Before I could gather my thoughts, I was startled by the man’s voice from inside the tavern. He must have noticed me. I froze, my breath catching in my throat as he turned and locked eyes with me again.
"Shit, act natural." I try to hide my face with my hands, but it's too late. The man is staring right at me
“I’ll make sure you pay for running from me, you little bitch!” Augustine’s voice boomed, venomous. I felt a sudden, sharp yank on my hair as he dragged me by my scalp, his face twisted with rage. “I can’t have a half-breed disobeying me,” he growled, his voice laced with sadistic glee. “You know what to do.”
My body trembled as I began stripping, the humiliation burning through me like fire. I fell to my knees, the dirt pressing against my skin as Augustine raised his whip. The lashes came swift and merciless—each one burning hotter than the last. Tears streamed down my face as I bit back the screams threatening to escape my throat.
Then, suddenly, the whippings stopped.
I opened my eyes, gasping for breath, and turned to see Augustine lying on the ground, blood pouring from his throat. Standing over him was the mysterious man, dagger in hand.
"What the fuck just happened."
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-To be continued
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