Her lips part. “I am… content.” She bows her head.
“When she is serving a Drahkita, she eats and bathes as one,” a Drahkita answers for her. “When she is not chosen for the right, she is as the other servants.”
So, our comfort here is based on our roles, and it can change at any time. Is this why they believe it is such a blessing to be the companion of the warriors?
Is it truly a blessing, or is it simply the absence of punishment?
I’ve experienced more than my share of hunger and have seen the widespread effects of famine. I can understand limiting food for a large community based on availability, but I am unsure I can accept the idea that some are given more than others.
“What happened to her? The girl who stole the milk?”
“Necklace,” the brunette corrects.
“She was sent to the dungeons,” Helena answers.
“Yes, but… is she fed there? Are there many people there?”
“It is not good to wonder about criminals as a Drahkita. They are… not worth your care.”
I frown. They are people all the same. And if it is a punishment that could happen to any of us for breaking rules, I do believe it worth it to at least understand.
“There are many criminals, yes,” Helena answers. “It is a dangerous place to be. Some live for years, others only a night.”
“Then there must be some kind of sustenance,” I infer.
“If you say so.” She shrugs. All three seem much less interested in me suddenly.
“We should finish up, Lina Drahkita!” Helena says, forcing a smile. “Let me wash your skin.”
The other women take this cue to move into another pool, farther away from us.
I allow Helena to carefully scrub me and rinse while I ponder the dungeons.
“You should not be so crass, Lina,” she says in a hushed-but-urgent tone. “Compassion for those who have betrayed our order is frowned upon.”
I consider her words carefully. “Is my place here so precarious?”
She sighs. “Your place is decided by your Drak. His order and his favor are what matter most. But it is still not good to be rejected by the community. And if he notices their dislike, or hears of your rebellious ways, he may consider you unworthy. It is why you must ensure he is pleased with you.”
I let her words linger for a long while. My Drak doesn’t seem overall concerned about me. He hasn’t touched me. He avoids my presence whenever possible.
But why? Why choose me, fight for me, keep me, and then disregard me?
“What happens?” I whisper. “Tell me what happens to a rejected Drahkita, and I promise I will try my best to fit in better.”
She pauses her scrubbing for a long moment then sighs dramatically. “If they are a mother, they are kept with us. But if they are not, they are given to the other men. They… do what they want. Some are reclaimed by another and kept as a Drahkita. Sometimes, they are discarded.”
My stomach turns. “And if they’re discarded?” I ask, my voice hollow.
“Then, they are sent to the dungeon.”
My brow furrows. “With the criminals?”
“Yes, but it is temporary. They are kept there until the full moon.”
I swallow. “What happens on the full moon?”
“They are bled out, and then fed to the draken.”
