Silf's earliest memories were painful ones. The day she was captured. The day she was enslaved. The first time she was sold. The day she was first beaten. The day she learned the third law of suffering. The day she learned the third law of Authority. The day she gave up hope.
The day she learned she couldn't even end it all … That a blade held to her throat by her own hands couldn't sever the vain. That no matter how hard she might try her hands simply couldn't be made to move to cut into her own flesh.
That she was trapped. Forced to continue living a life stolen from her when she was barely a child. That with each new owner the only thing that changed was the number of scars scattered across her body. That nothing was truly hers. Not even her own life.
***
"Stupid fucking bitch" A loud thud as a boot hit flesh. "Can't you do anything right!?" And another, the last of many to have impacted her chest, arms, legs, and head. Each one leaving a new bruise on her already battered body.
Maybe this was it, she thought, slipping in and out of consciousness. She hoped it would be. She didn't want to wake from this nightmare again. She prayed to Phylgrum to take her, to Adamysty to accept her and she cursed Akramon for his part in it all. Let this be the end.
Silf lay semi-unconscious at the feet of a slender man dressed in the finery of a rich noble. His boots stained crimson from the blood she'd coughed upon them. Silken black pants with ornate gold trim. Black vest. Red cloak. Expensive jewelry.
He flaunted his wealth, his power, and she was merely a trophy to be paraded and shown. Tossed aside or sold again to whatever sick depraved monster would pay for her next.
His boot pressed heavily against her head. "God's, you're worthless!" The man yelled, pressing her head into the cold cobblestone beneath. Finally eliciting a response. A pained whimper. A cry to live she did not want to admit.
"I'm sorry master, it won't happen again, I swear!" She cried out. Frantically trying to free herself from the man's wrathful presence. But her body was weak. Frail. Broken. She couldn't flee anymore then she could fight back.
"Oh, you're bloody well right it won't!" The man lifted his boot, slamming it into the girl's chest once more. She curled tightly around herself, blood seeping from between her teeth as she gasped though pained breaths.
She couldn't open her eyes. Even if she could. It was too dark to see. A sound. Metal scraping against metal echoing faintly in the dark alleyway. A sword, drawn and raised, ready to put the final blow to a disobedient creature.
This was it she told herself. She smiled weakly. The last thing she would remember before the darkness took her. But this was not death. Not yet.
"I think that's quite enough now." The noble paused before the swing. "Ohy, who the fuck are you then?" The noble called out. The sword held in the air ready to deliver the fatal blow.
His eyes shifted from Silf, following the direction of the voice and landed upon a man. No an elf. Slender, tall. Blond hair. Robes of a deep rich purple that billowed and flowed to an unfelt wind. He wasn't nobility, though he clearly wasn't poor by any means.
"Just an investor." The elven man replied coming short of the noble and looking upon Silf's splayed body with cold uncaring eyes. "An investor?" The noble repeated, lowering his sword as he relaxed his stance.
The elven man shifted her gaze from Silf to the noble. "Yes, and I'd hate to see your investment in this girl go to waste because you beat her to death. Pretty rare subspecies that one." He answered.
The noble scowled and spat on Silf's face as she lay motionless. "And not worth the coin I paid for her either." He barked, prodding her shoulder. Perhaps he thought she was already dead?
"I see, well if you haven't already killed her, I'd like to buy her off you." The elven man said calmly. "I'm sure you'd rather not lose money over a slave." He continued pulling a small pouch from his vest and dropped a single gold coin into his palm.
The likeness of a Dragon's face engraved into its surface. Glinting in the faint light as he held it up on display to the noble between his thumb and forefinger.
The noble's scowl deepened. "What's it to you what I do with MY property anyway?" The elf shrugged. "It's not. But I'd be a fool to simply let you kill her. I collect rare subspecies you see."
He knelt beside Silf. Rolling her over and checking her pulse. She was alive. Silf was dressed in little more than rags, crudely stitched together. Makeshift patches acted as long term solutions to the problem of wear that had proven the garment to be well past the point of needing to be retired.
Her feet and hands were covered in scars and dirt. Her hair was matted and brown. Any care she had ever gotten from this man was simply to keep her alive, little more. Even her frame was frail with slow starvation. She was a trophy but to be paraded about but has been treated like used parchment.
The elven man sighed and stood. "It'll take time to repair the damage you've done to her. It would be a favor on my part to even consider paying her market value in this condition but I doubt I'll ever come across another like her. So I'll make you a deal. I'll pay her full market price. You recoup your investment, and I get a pretty little thing for my collection."
The elf held the coin out, offering it. A trade of goods. A slave ... for a coin. The noble paused looking between the coin and Silf. Considering the idea before sheathing his blade and snatching the coin. "As you said, I'd be a fool."
With that, the deal was made and the leather collar that clung to her throat glowed a soft white as ownership was magically transferred from noble to elf. "It's been a pleasure." The noble smirked holding the coin aloft as he left.
"Indeed it has." The elf replied, watching as the man departed from the dark alleyway and back onto the main street. Blending into the crowd and out of sight.
"By the grace of Adamysty, what a monster." The Elf hissed, quickly kneeling back down gingerly lifting Silf's head. He couldn't show his concern in the moment or risk the man killing her out of spite for his showing of sympathy.
Any noble with a working brain would rather see a return on their investment. It just took a moment to negotiate a deal to save her life. Greed turned against the greedy. Power of thought trumping the power of wealth. But it wasn't always like that. Some would rather lose their coin than risk their pride.
Lifting the girl into his arms he was shocked at how light she truly was. She couldn't have been much more than sixty to seventy pounds. Even for her much smaller size she was far too lite.
Careful to keep her head raised and resting on his shoulder. An arm cradling her limp form to his chest. Her arms crossed over her chest as his other arm hooked beneath her legs lifting her up.
"Ok, let's get you tended to." The man said softly, beginning what was to be a long and tiresome journey into the city's lowest tiers.
The sun had set, and now twin moons hung in a dark starry night sky. One glowing a deep rich green, the other a pale white pink. Two of the four celestial bodies that would take turns to loom overhead. The light of neither, bright enough to truly illuminate the streets.
Ever-Burning Lamps were hung from the buildings by well-intending citizens to light the way. The lowest tier of the city had very few orb lamps off the main roads where city guardsmen might patrol.
What few still existed glowed faintly with a lack of repair. Many were cracked, most had been destroyed. Light from Ever-burning lamps cast long strange shadows but made safer the streets they hung within. It was wise to always avoid roads where the Lamps were out, or nonexistent. Especially at night.