Kaliah
My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself confined in a small, chilling cell. The sensation of cold stone beneath me sent shivers through my body. My head ached, a pulsating reminder of my dire situation, and my thoughts were muddled, as if wading through thick mud.
Struggling to rise, I became aware of the icy grip of metal against my wrists and a subtle pressure around my neck. My fingers traced the contours of a metallic collar, its unforgiving surface unyielding against my skin. The central section felt smooth, almost stone-like.
Desperation surged within me as I attempted to remove the collar, but my efforts proved futile. I reached for the wellspring of power within me, hoping to unleash my arc energy and shatter the metallic restraint. Yet as I tried to channel my energy, the collar seemed to absorb it, leaving me gasping for air. Dizzy and defeated, I sank back onto the cold stone floor, aching and vulnerable.
"Help..." My voice emerged as a feeble plea, brittle with fear. Shame washed over me. The body of a young girl lacked the strength needed to confront this terror. My rational mind urged calmness, advising me to think my way out of this ordeal. Yet my emotions overwhelmed me, thoughts of home and family flooding my mind. "Mommy! Daddy!" I cried out, tears streaming down my face. "Please, help me, Daddy!"
"No one's coming to save you, sweetie," a man's voice echoed from just beyond the cell bars, his words dripping with cruelty. "Nobody cares about you, and they never have. They sold you off because they wanted to be rid of you."
"That's... That's not true! You're lying!" I screamed back amidst my sobs. "My daddy would never do that!"
"Poor kid, if that's what you want to believe, go ahead," the man retorted with a bitter sigh. "But the harsh reality remains — you're here, and they're not."
A fact I couldn't deny. The last memory I had was drinking that awful tea. The thought struck my mind like a boulder dropped into a pond. I had been drugged and kidnapped, now held captive by a faceless tormentor. *Why?* That question echoed through the chaos of my thoughts.
"Stop crying and shut up!" The man bellowed, kicking the bars violently. I jumped at the sound, the chains that bound me rattling in tandem with my trembling body. Attempting to stifle my sobs, I futilely tried to conceal my pain.
In defiance, I retorted, "Come in here and make me!" Despite my tear-filled eyes, I stood my ground, trembling yet resolute.
"Heh, you're quite the feisty little kitty, aren't you?" The man sneered. He held my gaze for a moment and I matched his intensity. Neither of us backed down. Laughing, he reached for his keys.
Steeling my resolve, I took a step back. "Just remember, you asked for this," I warned him. With a taunting grin, he swung the cell door wide open. The man loomed over me, his massive frame casting a daunting shadow against my small stature.
I attempted to dodge, but the chains hindered my movements and the confined space left me with few options. Before I could land a blow, he anticipated my move, seizing my hand. Effortlessly, he lifted me and forced my back against the unyielding stone wall. Pain shot through me as I made contact with the rough surface.
In a desperate frenzy, I clawed at his face, my fingers lashing out wildly in an attempt to defend myself. One of my swings connected with his eye.
He slammed me against the wall again, my head jerking back violently on impact. My vision blurred, but amidst the pain, I heard him scream. "My eye! You little—"
"Davy! What happened?" Another man rushed into the cell, Davy clutching his injured eye.
"I can't see, Vic… this kid scratched my eye, and I can't see!" Vic shot me a cold look before leading Davy out. "Let's get you taken care of, man." He locked the cell behind them. I could hear distant voices rushing down the hall to Davy's aid.
A man in dark clothing arrived first. "What happened to him?"
"Rus, watch the little kitty. She's got sharp claws," Vic warned, passing the responsibility off without answering.
"That was a big mistake," Rus said flatly.
"My dad is going to come and save me. Just you watch." I gritted my teeth through the pain. My back burned, and my ears rang. Still, I kept my chin up, intent on staying strong.
"Hahaha!" Rus laughed scornfully. "It doesn't matter who your father is. Doesn't matter who your mother is. They could be king and queen of Osmira for all it matters." He gripped the bars and leaned his face close. His skin was fair with dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair nearly all white with just a few remaining strands of black. A twisted smile stretched across his face. "We're not in Osmira anymore, sweetie. We're in Gratam. And if you don't know what that means, it means nobody will ever be able to find you."
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
My head throbbed as the words sank in. Despite being roughly twenty-five years in spirit, my mind was still that of a child. This clash of mind and soul often left me reaching for strength I hadn't yet built. I backed further into the depths of my cell, as far from him as I could get. The look on his face was devoid of any warmth — he was nothing more than a demon wearing human skin.
"Oh… scared of me, are you?" He chuckled as I felt the wall press against my back again. I bit my lip trying to focus past the pain, but tears welled in my eyes regardless. "I haven't even done anything yet and you're already cowering."
Footsteps echoed quickly down the hallway. It was Vic, and he had another man with him. He opened my cell door — I hadn't even realized it was still unlocked.
I glared at him, trying my hardest to put daggers through his heart. He laughed with the others. "Grab her." The two men stepped into the small space and reached for me. They were quick and strong.
"Get off of me! No — stop!" I screamed, but it was futile.
Vic stepped forward while the others held me in place. "I hate to damage merchandise, but we have to teach you a lesson, kitty." His voice was naturally raspy, slow and quiet. My eyes widened as Rus pulled my arm out toward Vic. My heart pounded as I squirmed more desperately.
A sharp sting spread across my cheek. "Stop moving!" Vic barked. Shocked, my eyes welled up from both the pain and the force of his voice. Shaking, I went still — my feet barely even touching the ground.
"Much better," Vic whispered calmly despite my whimpering. He grasped my chin and tilted my face up to meet his. I stared into his dark green eyes, overwhelmed by pain and fear. "Have you ever heard the term… eye for an eye?"
My eyes went wide. Anger and terror surged together. "No — don't you dare!"
"Oh, I won't. Your face is too pretty to ruin like that. But your arm should do nicely." He grabbed hold of my arm before I could pull away.
"No! No, no, no!" I screamed, thrashing wildly. They held me firm. Another sharp slap made me grit my teeth as I sobbed. "Stop this! Please — STOP!"
They didn't care. In one swift, brutal motion, Vic snapped my arm.
---
By this point I'd been here for what felt like a month. There were no windows — not even a crack in the walls to hint at natural light. Though the stone was sealed tight, it held no warmth. Cold radiated through it like a living thing. If nothing else, I could tell it was the dead of winter.
My body had grown numb. My fingers refused to move even when I tried to flex them, though that may have been the arm too. They never treated it. I simply had to live with the pain.
In the quiet, a loud squeaking noise echoed through the hallway, followed by the resonating clang of a metallic door. Feeding time. A tray scraped through the slot at the bottom of my cell door — a piece of bread, a cup of water, and a bit of porridge.
It had been at least a day since I'd last eaten. Maybe two. I crawled toward the slot and drank my water, then began eating the bread. It was difficult to feel grateful, but at least it was something.
About an hour later a guard came to collect the trays. In a moment of spite, I made sure to send something extra back on mine.
"You're absolutely disgusting," he growled, opening my door and hurling the tray back at me before slamming it shut and continuing down the hall. I started crying again almost immediately. It was pointless resisting. I was starting to believe that. They kept telling me so, and the walls kept agreeing.
---
The physical torment was severe, but it wasn't even the worst part. Guards would come regularly, weaving lies into my already fragile reality. They told me my family had abandoned me, that they were probably dead or had given up searching. Some accused my family of being the reason I was here in the first place. The lies piled up, blurring the line between truth and fiction. My mind, clouded by starvation and despair, struggled to hold on to what was real.
They called me worthless. Said no one would want me even as a slave. Looking at myself — battered, broken, hollow — I began to believe every word. Their lies became truths in my mind.
Time lost all meaning in the darkness of that cell. The only reminder that the outside world still existed was the distant chirping of crickets beyond the stone walls — their song a bittersweet echo of a freedom just out of reach.
The inhibitor around my neck was another burden. Without access to my Arc, energy built up in my core like air trapped in the lungs too long. Each day the collar pulled more from me than I could afford to give, leaving me exhausted, dizzy, and sick. I lost what little food I had more than once because of it.
For six agonizing months, I endured. Within those walls I had become nothing more than a commodity — an object stripped of identity, destined for sale. The resilience I thought I possessed crumbled under the weight of their cruelty.
On the cold stone floor, I found a strange familiarity in the cell. I had memorized every crack, found the warmest corners, the least drafty spots to rest. My only constant was the meager meal each day, though I had to drink from a bowl like an animal — a fitting reflection of the nickname they'd given me.
"Hey, Kitty," Vic's voice cut through the silence. He was the worst of them all, relishing in cruelty, always fully aware of my helplessness. "You've got a visitor."
Footsteps approached. A man I didn't recognize stopped in front of my cell bars and studied me in silence.
"You say she's got three cores?" he asked, his voice measured and unfamiliar.
"Yup, that's right," Vic said proudly. "She was vicious when we first got her. We broke her in eventually. She's good and tamed now."
"Very well. I'll take her," the man replied somberly, his tone carrying a restrained disdain for Vic's words.
"We won't settle for less than 100 thousand," Vic declared.
"100 thousand for her? She's clearly unwell, and that arm hasn't healed properly," the man retorted, seemingly unimpressed. "She's not worth more than 50."
"80, and that's final. We've kept her fed for six months — that costs. Plus she comes from Osmiran and Zeffan nobility."
I couldn't help but snicker, which quickly dissolved into a coughing fit.
"Shut up!" Vic bellowed. I instinctively shrank back against the wall. "See? She cowers at the sound of my voice."
"She's coughing too. You let her get sick?" The man's tone sharpened with irritation.
"So what if she has a little cough? Look — 60 thousand Amps. You taking her or not?"
The man's scowl twisted into a reluctant expression. "Fine, we have a deal." They shook hands, producing small cards that emitted a crackling energy as they pressed them together. A warm green light enveloped them before they stowed away their cards.
"Alright, she's yours now. She's wearing an arc inhibitor, and I'd advise you to keep it on. She cracked everything up to yellow, so she's pretty strong," Vic cautioned. With a turn of his keys, my cell door swung open. Vic approached, unchaining my wrists and ankles. "Get up!" His commanding tone sent shivers down my spine, making me jittery. I mustered all the strength I had to stand, nearly toppling over due to my weakness. The man who had purchased me caught me before I hit the ground, hoisting me over his shoulder.
My small, battered body, covered in rags and filthy, found an unexpected haven in his arms. Despite my vulnerable state, he treated me with utmost respect, shielding me from any further harm. Clinging to him, I absorbed the warmth from his clothing, finding solace in his protective embrace. In that moment, I couldn't discern if he was a friend or foe, but the prospect of finally seeing the sky after six long months filled me with excitement and hope.
* * *
“To My Dear King Viktor of Osmira,
We discovered it was our nanny who kidnapped our daughter. Her ailing father was mysteriously healed and we found Three thousand amps in their family home. The rest was used to treat her father's illness. She confessed immediately and told us it was a band of Grat Mercenaries who came to her with this offer. We've since returned her arc to the world. Gratam has denied any wrong doing claiming these mercenaries acted on their own, but after some deeper investigation my service men discovered they are amassing an army on our northern border. They claimed that through our killing of their mercenaries we have shown inappropriate aggression towards their people and are now threatening war. In response I suggest that we amass an army of our own and prepare our defenses. It's been six long months since I've lost my daughter, but if you do so, I would appreciate the opportunity to avenge her.
To Your Purity.
You're Humble Servant,
First Officer Marcas Deligan.”
