A New Life with no Past [UC Training/Plot/Closed]

The glittering capital of Heliohapt, a city made of precious metals, was bustling with life as usual inside its abundant bazaars. Customers bought a variety of goods from food to jewelry and bargained for the best price possible. The same was also going on in an open square, where an auction sold merchandise unlike any seen in a country outside Heliohapt (save for the Kou Empire): living beings. The sight was very common within the borders of Heliohapt where, truth be told, the majority of the population consisted of slaves.

On the stage, there stood a variety of people, from humans to colossal Imuchakk, each wearing only chains that clanked when they moved. Up for auction was a youthful girl about 6 years in age with red hair recently hosed down for a proper display. She was a Fanalis, or at least had the Fanalis blood flow within her veins. She was instructed to demonstrate her strength by lifting objects and moving them with ease, all while the hot chains rubbed against her youthful skin.

Meanwhile, a woman, no older than twenty-one, was consoling a young boy with shaggy brown hair and wide chocolate eyes. He trembled, having the same fate as his mother, who had been sold earlier. Her hands wiped the tears from his cheeks, whispering that everything would be okay. It was a lie, one that could destroy this boy’s pure heart, but what could she say? The terrible world of battery and servitude he would soon find himself? The boy probably already knew what was going to happen and just needed some sort of reassurance, anything to keep him from falling apart. Everyone else had been sold, leaving her to be the only one left.

Hands grabbed the young female, forcing her to her feet and up on the stage, leaving the little boy alone with his fears. She was exposed for all eyes to see with mere chains dangling from her wrists and ankles. Men and women leered at her as they whispered amongst themselves. The devoured her body with their lust-filled gazes, ravenous like a pack of snow wolves. The girl just stared above their heads; she didn’t how she had come to be in such a situation or how she could get out. She doubted there was an escape. There was, on the other hand, a very deep down feeling that she wasn't supposed to be there, not in the way that she was. She had something important to accomplish.

The auctioneer made the female turn.

“As you can see, this item is very tall. Her height suggests heritage originating from the northern giants in the snowy country of Imuchakk. Her hair, however, is blonde, almost gold. This one is a rare desert flower. Capable of fighting, cleaning, or doing whatever it is that,” he paused, offering a wide toothy grin to the bidders, “pleases you. Don’t let this one elude you, ladies and gentlemen!”

While she stared with blank eyes, the men and women began their bids. The price kept rising with each bid. Every buyer wanted the woman for his or her own personal reasons, some for simple work while most to sedate their animalistic urges. One of them would become her master.

“One million gold, ” resounded a voice, powerful and proper, causing the bids to stop instantly.

“Well then. Any other bids?”

The whispers dimmed.

“Going once?”

Still no reply.

“Going twice?”

Silence.

“Sold to the man in white!”

She was yanked off the platform and thrown in line with the other unfortunate souls. The woman did not dare look up  when she heard the shuffling of feet surround her as owners grabbed their newfound property or even when a distinct pair stopped before her. She was grabbed and pulled off the stage roughly by her chains, her feet trailing through the dirt. No words were spoken even after she was thrown into the back of a wagon covered in rough, itchy straw and blindfolded. There, she waited for what seemed like hours under the hot sun before the wagon began to move.

The journey took the Imuchakk slave through thick crowds and uneven roads, making the direction and destination hard to grasp due to the varying paths they often traversed. Still, it wasn’t quite as long as the young woman expected, but neither was the sudden roughness she experienced when her master gripped her hair, dragged her on hot stones which turned into cool marble, and threw her down some stairs leading to a cold, dank room.

“What a pretty thing you are,” said the voice from earlier after a heavy door slammed shut. The hiss of a match being lit sounded followed by a dim light that could be seen through the semi-sheer fabric of the blindfold. The footsteps got closer.

“I have high expectations from you." His face was in front of hers now; she could smell his foul breath drenched in alcohol. Fingers caressed her face ever so gently. Soft hands, like that of a noble, she noted. As if the million gold bid wasn't enough of a hint at this man's position.

“I heard you have no memories,” he whispered in her ear. “Poor thing. Maybe I should name you, just for the fun of it. How about Zaina? It was once the name of my previous dog and a slave.”

The man was correct, but the Imuchakk slave, now named Zaina, wondered how he knew. Was he involved? Or did something happen with her past owner? If such was the case, why buy her? For the clean slate?

The blindfold came off. Zaina had to blink for her eyes to readjust but was greeted with. a rather rough kiss from her master .Zaina struggled to push her master away, however nothing worked. When the man's hand began to roughly grab her, she bit his lip to get the man to jerk back.

He wiped away the blood dripping down his chin and chuckled.

"Feisty. I like that, but you have just a little bit too much.Yeah, you’ll do nicely. But first," his fist made an impact with her jaw, "you must be taught where you belong.”

Her master gripped her throat, pinning her against the wall. “I am Lord Yasir. Get that through your head. Anytime you hear me call you, you answer. Do not speak unless told to do so, do not look at anyone without being told to do so. Everything about you belongs to me: your body, heart, soul, and mind."

Lord Yasir sneered and let go of Zaina roughly. There, barely obscured by his long sleeves, peaked the edge of a tattoo. A familiar yet foreign marking that nagged at the back of Zaina's mind. She couldn't think for too much longer though since she heard the voice of Lord Yasir as he opened the door to leave.

"Welcome to your new life."

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UC Training WC: 1,154/1,000