opia - n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable
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Elara was cold.
The white iron restraints that were clamped to her wrists and ankles burned fiercer than her ache for water and sleep—however, even that paled in comparison to her longing for the moon.
The ethereality of basking beneath the moons gentle glow, its radiance seeping into her pores and into her heart, warming her from the inside out, outside in, the assurance of peace settling within her perfectly... perhaps that was the emptiness that had burrowed within her as of late.
The slaver that had traded her to the new one had grabbed her by the face, pulling at her hair fiercely before whispering cruelly in her ear, "If you do anything unacceptable towards your owner, I will ensure that you are hunted down and that your family is bought by the worst of humans, understood?"
Of course, she had submitted immediately, terrified of what the ramifications would be if her family got even worse treatment. The slaver had then thrown her into the cage, tittering with disgust before walking away, talking to the new slaver that smelled of the human drink called alcohol, and copious amounts of it at that.
She was then cast into a cold, damp cell of what seemed to be the very last one into the block, a fact she discovered by the amount of souls that were to the left of her, and the lack thereof to the right.
Yes, Elara could see the souls of people—she could also see a perfect 360 degrees in the dead of night if she got her sight back from the moon, but it had been a long time since she could. How long has it been? She couldn't remember very well; it had been years since she was free of these restraints, that's for sure.
As she mused within her new prison, she took shelter in the far right corner, feeling assured with the two walls on either side of her and nothing but the cold, damp stone against her bony, pale back. She curled into herself, her dirty, stiff hair which she barely remembered to be black falling into her face, tickling her.
She did not move from then on, save only for time of drink and time of food, which seldom came.
——————
It had been a week since Elara had come to this new place, and she was tired. Her back ached from being pressed against the wall, and her legs felt fused in place from sitting in the same position for so long. She knew that she really ought to move, but the only place where she felt safe in the cell was in the cold corner; even moving to get her food caused unprecedented anxiety to rise from within her.
There was also the oddest sense of restlessness within her, the urge to find something, someone, as if her existence was being held between the balance of life and death.
She grit her teeth, her expression scrunching up from behind her cover of hair; she did not like this feeling; it made her feel sad, and lonely, and weak, and like the world was ending—so she ignored it, curling into herself tighter, and forcing her mind to go blank.
She couldn't bear to think right now; it simply hurt too much.
But the sense of restlessness did not leave her, and huffing quietly, she slowly, stubbornly, unwillingly laid down on her side, her entire right side going cold from the dank, dark, cold stone floors of the cell before casting away her mind yet again to sleep. It evaded her for several hours before she grasped it, focusing on the feel of a bright, blue moon night.
Sleep came to her, and for many hours, she slept, her body breaking down from the exhaustion caused by the constant tension she lived with.
The world grew darker still.
———————
Elara awoke to the sound of footsteps, and immediately, she dragged herself up, the sleepiness from awakening immediately fading as her heart palpitated; was she going to be sold off after all this time? Where those footsteps that of an ill-intending customer?
She froze up like the stone that surrounded her at the prospect, a thousand questions and possibilities, each worse than the next, running through her mind ceaselessly as the footsteps grew closer, the sound of the wall moving, in what she assumed was the entrance to the slaver's den; this guess was due to prior knowledge from the other slave houses she'd lived in previously, as she'd been heavily drugged when coming here.
An odd sense of wariness and wholeness of self bubbled up inside of her, clogging her throat of speech, and leading her to curl up even further; this feeling scared her, especially as it intensified as the footsteps came closer, becoming more distinct.
There was the familiar slamming of the alcoholic slavers feet, and the near silent, gentle, foreign tap of what she assumed to be a customer's or inspector's feet.
She assumed he was buying her, due to the lack of hesitancy she sensed in his quite yet distinct footfalls. The feeling grew even more at the quiet approach, a lullaby preluding the end.
Her heart palpitated fiercely, an ache clogging her throat further as she curled into herself even further, trembling. This was an unfamiliar situation—she was not used to such biting emotions, nor was she used to the anticipation that arose from the thought of being sold.
The footfalls grew deafening until they stopped outside of her cell door, softly, gently, like a tender caress—she wanted no part in it. Elara wished she could fuse into the walls, become one with the stone; she wished she could break from her shackles, and fall into the embrace of someone she did not know.
It terrified her, so she flinched at the voice of the warden's rough, nasally voice.
"Oi, get up already, you've got a customer inspection."
Elara trembled subtly before she slowly unfurled herself like a flower in bloom, her joints cracking and aching from being help in place for so long, stiff.
Her lungs rattled at the sudden movement, almost overwhelming her with oxygen deprivation, but she prevailed, both simultaneously following and fighting her instincts as she crawled obediently to the bars that trapped her, her pale hands desperately groping for understanding on the floors, and then the bars, grasping them desperately as anxiety ratcheted within her.
She felt exposed; raw; vulnerable.
She wanted to go back into her corner where she was safe; she wanted to get closer to this mysterious presence, cocking her head slightly to possibly hear better. Her pale, moon blue eyes opened up, glancing past her hair that she could no longer see but could only feel, and into the soul of the one before her, stifling a gasp as the soul began to speak.
"Is she blind?"
The voice was mellifluous in its delicate fluency, and with her keen ears that had been honed in the darkness, she sensed a strain in it, a suppression, a youth; a boy. She nearly flinched at the prospect that a boy was here. Her mind wandered, slightly star-struck—his voice was nice to listen to, comforting even.
She snapped back when she heard the surprised voice of the slaver, inwardly shrinking back from his voice; it wasn't pretty like the boy's before her.
"Yes, she is young sir. But don't worry, it's not permanent if that's what you're worried about."
The gentle voice of what sounded like an angel, but certainly wasn't based on his soul's radiance reverberated again, sounding slightly distracted, "How so?"
The laugh of the slaver made her skin crawl as he then replied in his repulsive voice, "Well, it's cause of her species sir. She's a moon fairy boy; let her sit in the moonlight for a bit and she'll be able to see again with no problem, though I'd advise not letting her bathe in it; if you do, then make sure to bring mana chains..."
Elara's focus was diverted to the boy's soul; before it was an intriguing dark purple, a color that fit his frame perfectly, with a still smoothness to it she'd never seen before; it was like glass. Now, that same soul had a unique blueish white spot over where his heart would be, a color that reminded her of the moon, and it transfixed her attention solely on him. The purple hand past the bars, approaching her slowly, quietly.
She felt no panic; it reminded her of his footsteps...
A tender touch greeted her chin, a feeling of a thousand butterflies erupting up from within her as he slowly, tenderly pulled back her long, filthy hair, revealing her face with wave of cool air. She felt subconscious as the boy gently held her cheek, her own hand coming up and grasping at it in confusion and anticipation; she liked the touch, but she was not used to it.
The crack of the whip, the sting of a hand against her skin, she was used to that.
A tender touch was not familiar to her; not anymore.
Her lips parted and accidentally whispered her thoughts, "Who...?"
'Who are you? Why are you here?'
A thousand more questions opened up in her as she saw the whiteish blue circle that hung over his heart expand, granting her a look at hidden eyes that she could no longer see; it had been years since she'd seen any color, and she had become subconsciously enraptured at the sight of the eyes that were revealed when the moon-like color overcame the boy.
They were a deep, amethyst purple, the type that glittered and shone like the gem itself, and within his eyes were inlay's of pure, glimmering gold that seemed to shine in an almost flower-like pattern. Her breath hitched in her throat; she was blind as a bat without the moon—so how in Raguel's name was she seeing the eyes of a young boy?
A soft word that was more of a breath then came from the boy, in a voice so vulnerable, so tender, and so very gentle that Elara felt breathless: "Mine."
A long, very fierce staring contest began and lasted for an eternity as the unique feeling of serendipity overcame the pair; there was no one but themselves in the whole wide world, and contrary to what she previous felt, Elara felt utterly settled at the prospect.
In an odd corner of her mind, she thought, 'I wouldn't mind an eternity of this as long as I am with him...'
It was too late for her; she had fallen into the oblivion of his tender eyes, and she could not escape.
———————
Ruel was the same as the star-struck Elara, if not even worse; he was happy to drown if it meant he could gaze into her blue moon eyes for all of time.
But the moment was shattered at the intervention of the slaver who suddenly seemed extraordinarily cumbersome and annoying to him.
"Young sir, I trust you're satisfied by the slave? Then let us finish the transaction; it's at least 50 gold for a rarity such as herself. Pay up."
The man extended his hand towards Ruel, beckoning money which Ruel didn't have.
Or did he?
Sighing, Ruel reached into his coat, unbuttoning his shirt and grabbing some of the ornament's that he'd stolen from Concubine Charlette as payment for all those times he'd been mocked; he'd even taken some of the priceless diamond ornaments that had adorned Abel, his "brother", before leaving to the city.
Removing one of them, he held out a solid gold bracelet that had a single, large emerald within it, and silver filigree that danced around the rest of the emeralds so fine, it was clearly the work of a master craftsman. The slaver gawked at the sight of the jewelry—it was worth at least 2,000 gold coins!
The slaver roared with laughter, "My little sir—no, Young Master, that's quite the treasure you got there! I'll take it, and with this purchase, I'll consider you a special potential customer from now on! Take the girl—and please, do continue your patronage here! Hahaha!"
Ruel decided he liked the slaver a bit more now—he was reasonable, at least more than his "step-mother", Concubine Charlette.
Ruel merely nodded at the man, before reaching for the bars of the cell, his small hands gripping them. "Oh!" came the slavers exclamation, "Here Young Master, I'll open the door—"
*SCREEEEECH*
Ruel effortlessly opened up a sizeable hole in the bars, causing shrieks of rusted metal to ensue as the slaver look at him in shock; a child who couldn't be more than 10 had ripped open a hole in the bars!!
Meanwhile, Elara had clamped her hands over her ears, flinching at the loud sound; her hearing was exceptionally sensitive after being blind for so long, and as such, it was torturous for her, and unexpected. However, no sooner was the sound gone was she then picked up and swaddled and what seemed to be a fairly large coat, before being carried in a princess-style carry.
Immediately her pale face flushed—she really wasn't used to this at all!
"W-Wait, Young Master, t-those bars—"
Ruel stopped, securing his hold of Elara in one arm, and shoving his hand into his shirt, buttoning it up, and then tossing a pure gold ring that had a large ruby imbedded into it to the slaver. He then readjusted his hold again and silently walked away, the pale strands of his diamond glass hair glittering in the light of the Lumos Lamp, but the slaver was too busy admiring the ruby ring to care much.
"T-Thank you Young Master! Come back at any time—!"
The sound of the secret passageway wall closing ended his statement, leaving Ruel and his newly bought slave to walk back to his little home, his dark amethyst and gold eyes staring forward resolutely; he would protect this girl to the end of time, but first...
"I apologize for the loud noise. Are you alright?"
Elara stiffened with shock, her large blue moon eyes widening before looking at him owlishly, her expression surprisingly adorable to Ruel, but he restrained his laughter. Very meekly, very slowly, she nodded her head, looking like a babe with how she was swaddled in the stolen coat.
"Do you prefer not to talk?"
*nod
"Very well, just be sure to hang on tight; this'll get rough."
Ruel exited the secret slave house before crouching, the muscles of his legs tensing before he forced some of the force he'd saved up into his legs before releasing it, causing him to shoot up into the sky and forward with the inertia produced from the blast.
From an observes perspective, it would've seemed like one minute he was there, crouched on the street, and the next he was gone, a blur in the sky as a mushroom cloud of dust from the dirt road left behind with an enormous crater in front of the well-known inn.
And just like that, Elara's life changed exponentially, though if it was for the better or for the worse for Elara, it remains yet to be fully determined...