Today was one of those days that started out great but ended badly, Yima decided as she watched her daily tormentor give his undivided attention to the pick pocketer at his left who was dumb enough to try and pickpocket the king of durt.

Manji laughed as he forced the man to lick the scar where a chunk of his face once was.

Yima closed her eyes, unable to turn away from the scene in fear of bumping into someone and starting a fight.

She savoured the seconds of peace while flexing her free hand making sure it was ready to wipe M's saliva once he'd be done playing with his new shiny toy.

When asked which arm to surrender, Yima chose her left hand so that she could defend herself with the right one.

No defending was ever done.

Her mind took her back to the beginning, to the events that brought her here. The night she fell on red hot charcoal and didn't burn, the chants and screams of the mob outside her mother's hut the next morning and the caging of her hand to the low ceiling of the ship.

Anger, the only feeling her body allowed her to have began boiling inside her as she thought of the villagers of Likanu.

Traitors, a lot of them.

The ship suddenly rocked back and forth, sending everyone flying.

"If you bump into me again I'll push your balls in." Was one of the many threats that could be heard.

Light followed, the blinding type that had one needing a few seconds before reopening their eyes. 

The main door was open.

The main door!

Everyone's attention was on the short man in trousers and shirt made from a red and black chitenge.

He had a bunch of keys and everyone's eyes followed the jiggling little things, mentally calculating which one would unlock their hand.

He went from one prisoner to another and they didn't spare a second to say anything, they all dashed out the door.

Every prisoner around had already walked out the room.

The man with her life in his hands looked up at her and she smiled down at him.

"The weather's horrible up here." She joked in hopes to make him laugh.

He frowned. 

"You're weakest of your kind, you'll die brutally in a few seconds if I let you up there." He said.

Yima could make out the grunts and yells of pain of her kind as they all died. 

"We're under attack, two ships. We needed reinforcements, that's why we let them out."

Yima is quiet, trying to control her breathing that keeps ending up stuck on her throat and he mistakes her silence for misunderstanding.

"They're dying, most of them already dead trying to defend the ship.

Yima tried to slowly unbutton her dress but he stopped her.

"Save that for the next guy."

Freedom was a person, and she was watching him walk away.

Maybe death wasn't that bad after all.

"Down here!" Yima yelled repeatedly, she smiled knowing her entire life was a waste.

Someone would walk in and end her and the whole world will forget about her.

"Come on, down here!" She yelled once more until the door slammed open.

Three women were standing in front of her, each one of them dressed in robes, their faces hidden by wooden masks curved differently. 

"I'll kill her." the shortest woman said as she stepped forward.

"No!" one of the women yelled while Yima yelled, "Yes, finally!" Her eyes were teary with joy. Finally it would be all over.

"Please." Yima whispered as she looked eagerly at all of them.

Her body ached, her arm was all the wrong colours and she felt her blood trickle down her neck.

The wound on her neck pounding pain throughout her body, leaving no part of her body unattended to. 

"He will like her." one of them said.

"If he doesn't he will kill us all." The woman in the center said in a shaky voice.

"She will  cooperate," the woman with an ugly mask said, "If you're not going to kill me at least get me down so that I can properly beg the next person to." The rope was cut and Yima fell to the ground hissing. 

"Freedom is a place." The mask masked woman whispered to Yima as she knelt down and lifted Yima's chin up, moving her head left and right. 

"She's pretty enough," The woman with the bird mask turned to the others, "She's powerful too." She stood up and joined the rest.

"You must be the most dangerous criminal for them to leave you here. Come with us and I'll put you to good use." Yima hated every word that came out of the woman's mouth, she just wanted to die but for some reason she couldn't say no, couldn't correct her or hesitate, her body wouldn't let her.

It wanted to live so bad it took over and she nodded her head.

"You'll be safe with us." The tallest one said in a soft voice.

The three women's heads suddenly landed on the ground dead and standing in their place was a giant of a man, his arm formed like a blade glistering in the darkened room with their blood.

He was shirtless, his hairy chest filled with tattoos, one tattoo in particular had Yima backing away to the far wall with huge eyes.

It couldn't be.

There was no one she was standing face to face with but the pirate king. The pirate king!

The tattoos only would have convinced her that it was him but with a sjambok hanging at his waist, all she could do was bow her head and spit on the floor.

A greeting worthy of a god. And he was indeed some kind of god.