The man that would strike my town.
The man who threatened to kill me last night.
Were one and the same.
And it seemed like I was his prisoner.
“I have,” I pushed the thumping of my heart lower into my chest to allow my lungs to gather some much-needed air.
“I see…” she tilted her head at me slightly and blinked a few times. She didn’t truly look at me, but through me, as though she was checking a mental list concerning this situation and I had made her skip more steps than necessary, preventing her from finding her footing.
Curious, since I was the one kidnapped and tied up in the tent of the man who was going to strike my town.
I needed to find out exactly what a ‘strike’ entailed.
“Are you… alright?” Karisha recomposed herself, but she mustn’t have liked the words that came out of her mouth, because she grimaced at their sound.
“I believe you would have to be more specific with that question, given my particular situation,” I replied instead, doing my best to be polite and not shout the obvious fact that I was, very evidently, not alright.
“Sure,” she pressed her lips together as a sign of apology. “Is there anything you need, that I may provide?”
Before I had a chance to speak, she added. “I am not allowed to release you, only Dahr decides when that happens. I can provide you with comfort, however. Food, clothing, dressing for any wounds or treatment that you might require?”
“Some sort of support so I can adjust my hand into various positions to get more comfortable would be great,” Iimmediately said, the need to release the pain overcoming other physiological requirements.
“Of course,” she offered me a small smile. “I will order a chair to be moved for you. And I will send two of the girls with fresh clothing, some food and a pot.”
“A pot?” I questioned, without realising that I would make her blush.
“For your… needs,” her rosy cheeks flourished as he said the words.
“Thank you,” I replied instead of revealing my true thoughts, because who in their right mind considered being tied up to a bar and squatting over a bucket a commodity? I was on a mission of gaining an ally however, so I did not want to be rude.
Karisha offered me another smile before she bowed her head slightly and silently made her way out of the tent, her departure letting another slash of sunshine in.
There wasn’t much I could do after her departure but wait. Wait for the promised food and commodities. Wait to get more comfortable. And wait for Dahr to arrive. The person who had possibly come here with the purpose of destroying my town.
A thousand options occupied my mind. Was I brought here to be interrogated? To be used as some sort of exchange? That would be in their detriment, because I had no real value.
Was I brought here in the hope that I would betray my people and give them whatever information they needed in exchange for freedom? Again, a poor gamble for them…
One thing was true though, Karisha was a woman of her word. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since her visit—I had been too trapped in introspection— when two women entered the tent.
The first thing I noticed was their outfits, so at odds with what Karisha had been wearing when I met her. While she had been dressed like a princess, these two women were dressed inanimal remains, for lack of a better word. They had some sort of top made from bits of fur and leather that acted more like a bra/corset rather than a protective garment and they were both wearing short skirts, which again, seemed to be made of sewn together parts of fur, serving the only purpose of covering their private areas. Assumingly, underwear was out of the question.
I tried to introduce myself and speak to them, but they only bowed once in introduction and proceeded to bring a chair by my side, signalling me to sit. Then they brought a clay pot with a cover, which they situated further from me, pointing to the metal bar to let me know that I needed to move in order to reach it. And I received a plate of food with a mug of water.
The entirety of the visit took less than five minutes of my time, leaving me once more, on my own after their frenzy and refusal to address me. Having nothing better to do, and truly no other option, I ate the cheese, cucumbers and bread first, before sliding my shackles across the metal bar to make my body reach the pot and squatted after a long struggle of unzipping my pants in order to relieve myself.
Using the toilet like that and being forced to lie only a few feet next to it felt degrading, yet I tried to think of it from a rational perspective.
As a prisoner, I had been tied up to prevent my escape, which had been expected, I had been allowed to sleep in the comfort of a tent and my basic necessities had been ensured. All in all, I couldn’t say that the faeries were treating me too badly.
The item I was truly the most grateful for was the chair and the relief sitting provided to my lower back and my entire right upper body. I allowed my muscles to relax and my back to release the tension it had been holding for almost a day, while leaning my head back and stretching my neck and dissipating the constant pull that had grown in between my shoulders.
For a little while, at least, I was relaxed. Dare I say, I even enjoyed myself and forced the imagery of a visit to the museum. I looked up and admired the artwork, letting my body relax and my thoughts flow.
“Human,” a kick to my shin sent shivers up my legs and all the way to my left hip while a tangent scent filled my nostrils with the unpleasant sensation.
