When she came to her senses, Theodora noticed she was in a small dark tent that let in barely any light. She could tell it was day by the tiny rays that snuck through small holes in the ceiling and seams. Her arms were tied high above her to a large wooden post in the center of the tent. Her feet barely touched the floor. She had to stand on her tippy toes to relieve the strain put on her shoulders. Her head pounded, and she noticed she was bleeding from her swollen face. It felt inflated and throbbed aggressively, and she couldn't see out of one of her eyes. It was swollen shut.
She sighed and looked around, hoping she could figure out a way to get out of there. Nothing. She stayed tied up like that for three days. On the first day, nobody entered. She could hear movement from outside and muffled conversation outside. She closed her eyes and was able to find the tent she was in through the eyes of her bird. To her surprise, it was almost right next to the General's. It looked like a small army had been posted around her, and she sighed. Her stomach growled viciously, but as she expected, no food or water was brought to her.
On the second day, a large intimidating man entered the room and started asking her questions. Who was she? Who was she working for? She just stared at him. When she refused to talk, he slapped her hard across the face drawing blood. That happened a few times until he grew frustrated and hit her so hard it split her lip, drawing blood.
She started crying. But her large tragic tears were fake.
"Talk. Unless you want to get hit again." The man seemed to enjoy her crying, so she bawled harder.
"Please, sir! Please! Don't hit me again!" She was really laying on thick and watched the man's face seem to soften with pleasure. As if he thought his tactics were working. But whatever this man could do to her, had already been done before. There was nothing he could do to intimidate her. She had been starved, beaten, stabbed, slapped, raped, and left in a cell to rot for months at a time. She was a hollow shell, and pain had become something she used to fill the emptiness inside her. The pain told her she was still alive. Her only consolation in life was inflicting that pain on others. The chaos inside her was fueled by the blood on her hands - it was the only thing that brought comfort and purpose to her cursed life.
The man raised his hand again to slap her again, and she screamed, flinching away from him. She was good at acting, and the soldier was falling for it so easily. He backed off, not swinging his raised arm. What a stupid man.
"Talk!" He yelled above her, "Who do you work for?!"
"I work.... I work...." She sniffled, her lip swelling only adding to the pitifulness of her appearance. "I work for the Fang of Gresas...." He blinked at her before slapping her hard across the face, causing the cut on her lip to open further, blood filling her mouth. She laughed an evil cackle that was loud and crazy. She spat a mouthful of blood at the man. "You punch like a BITCH!" She screamed at him, and she lost consciousness as he hit her over the head with a massive blow.
The next two days were quiet. Two guards had entered once a day and offered her water, which she refused. They ended up holding her down and forcing the water down her parched, dry throat. She screamed and kicked and spit and thrashed until they would knock her unconscious and pour it carefully into her mouth anyways.
The tall, intimidating man entered again. And again, tried and failed to get her to talk. He even went as far as taking one of her blades and running it down the length of her face. A large, clean gash slipped over her skin from her forehead, over her eyebrow, and down her cheek. He threatened to take an eye from her, and she spat in his face, angering him. He was just about to slice into her eye when another man entered the room.
"Get out." Theodora never forgot a voice and immediately knew who owned the sound of that low, husky tone. It was the General. "Give that to me." He motioned to the blade in the man's hand, who placed it in his palm before stomping out the front of the tent. The General's amber eyes seemed to glow even in the muted light of the dark tent. He stared at her for a long time before stepping out. She could barely make out his form from behind her swollen and bloody eyes. She heard talking from outside the tent but wasn't able to pick out what was said.
After a moment, the General arrived back in the tent carrying a chair and a small table. He placed them down a few paces in front of her and sat down. He didn't say anything, not really bothering to look at her. Instead, he toyed with her blade in his hand. Her favorite blade. She made sure the black dagger was always so sharp that it sliced through anything like butter.
"This is a fine blade." He said finally, turning it over in his large hands. His golden amber eyes fixated on it. "Did you make it?" He stabbed the table beside him, burying the blade deep in the wood, before leaning forward to look at her.
She scoffed internally. If he thought being nice to her would change anything or would get information from her, he was wrong. She ignored him, staring daggers at him. He smiled, and it pissed her off. What was he smiling for?! What was so fucking funny?
"I've only seen a black blade like that one other time.... it came from the mountains of Frelal. Is that where you're from? Or did you steal this blade?" He waited a moment before speaking again, "Ah... You probably stole it. Pity. I was wanting an excuse to return to those mountains."
She was from Frelal, but she didn't steal it. She MADE that blade before she was sold off to slavery as the Lord's assassin. It was her only treasure. Her father owned a smithy shop, where he made the highest quality daggers and blades. He was skilled with them too and taught Theodora everything he knew as soon as she was old enough to walk. By the time she was 8, before she was sold off to slavery after her father disappeared, she was already deadly with a blade.
"Regardless. I must thank you for the blade. It will make a fine addition to my collection. It's not very often a child is sent to assassinate me." She fumed. She promised herself she would die clutching that blade, and he disrespected it by shoving it into the table! Blades were meant to be used! Not locked away in some collection!
Just then, a young soldier entered with a bowl of water and a towel. He stumbled slightly. The knife was lodged deep in the middle of the table, and he had nowhere to put the bowl.
"Well... what are you waiting for? Put the bowl on the table." The General's voice was quiet and friendly, which only seemed to make him that much more intimidating as he watched the boy gingerly reach over to try and take it out. But it had been lodged so deeply into the wood that he had difficulty and failed to take it out, actually lifting the table with the blade.
"P-pardon, General. The blade is stuck. Shall I get another table for you?"
The General laughed, more annoyed than finding it funny. He snatched the blade out of the table in a single easy motion, pointing it at Theodora. "I bet she would've been able to pull it from the table without any problem."
The boy's eye went wide.... "She?" He swallowed hard, placing the bowl on the table. He had a panicked look in his eyes as the General turned to look him in the face. It seemed like the soldier didn't plan on speaking - the word left his lips without thought.
'So stupid...' Theodora thought.
"You don't seem blind, boy...." He squinted at the young soldier who cowered in his presence. Theodora scoffed silently, this time out loud. Drawing a small smile from the General, who turned to face her. "Leave." And the young man ran out of the tent in a panic.
General Tualon placed the dagger on the table before reaching into the bowl, wetting the small towel before wringing it out. He leaned over and reached up to wipe Theodora's face. She flinched and moved away from him, anger flaring inside her.
'Fuck this man! Who does he think he is?!' She cursed him in her mind. But the General paid her anger no attention and gently started blotting the cut down her face with the towel. He wiped away the sweat, dirt, and blood carefully and tenderly. After a while, Theodora found herself calm slightly, against her instincts. It was as if the man was pouring calming energy into the small tent, and his quiet yet imposing presence was encouraging her to relax.
"A young lady like yourself should take better care of herself."
'What the fuck?' Theodora scoffed at him. But kept her mouth shut. She had disguised herself as a boy since she was eight after the first time she was raped. Hoping that it would prevent people from coming after her, it worked, kind of, but not always. Was this General going to lay his hands on her since he knew she was a girl?
"I'm no lady." She finally said, hoping to conceal her gender. Not that it really mattered. They would do what they wanted with her, regardless of if she were a boy or not.
The General smiled, "It seems I am the only one with eyes." He continued to wash her face. Cleaning off the rag in the bowl before wringing it out and continuing to wipe away the layers of dried blood on her face.
"You are incredible with that blade. I have never seen someone so young and so skilled." He paused a moment, watching her reaction. Which she made sure was as blank as possible. Though pride filled her chest, even though she knew he was probably only saying it to get her to talk. A typical tactic - starve and beat the prisoner, then bring in their savior. "I wonder why you wouldn't use those skills to kill your master? You could easily free yourself that way. You would make a fine living as a mercenary."
How did he know she was a slave? Or was he just guessing? Regardless, it was a great guess on his part. She had thought about killing her master. Dozens, if not hundreds of times. But no, she couldn't. Even if she had killed her lord, it would only put a bounty on her head, and she would be running forever. He also had something important to her, her little brother, Niko... and without her cooperation, she would lose him forever. She feared that news of her failure would reach his ears, and he would dispose of Niko, who was born disfigured, without an arm. It would be better to earn their freedom on his own accord through her loyalty to him.
As if reading her mind, he spoke again, his calm, friendly voice filling the space, "Unless you're doing all this to protect someone?" The General, satisfied with his handiwork, tossed the bloody stained cloth into the bowl and leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He raised an eyebrow at her. He clicked his tongue as he studied her face and expressions. "You know... Even if your master said, they would free you... They won't. Definitely not someone as valuable and skilled as you. My guess is whoever sent you told you this would be your last job and that they would let you and whomever they are using against you go. You'd be free."
He stared at her. His amber eyes were suddenly despondent in sympathy, "But we both know that would never happen. And deep down, you know they most likely already killed that person..."
Maybe it was from being starved and beaten for days? Maybe it was from her physical and mental exhaustion? Maybe the General was saying all the right things? Regardless, Theodora found tears welling in the corners of her eyes for the first time in a long time. She fought back against them and stuffed her sadness deep down inside.
Was the General right? Most likely. But she couldn't just give up on Niko so easily. If there was a chance he was still alive, she would take it. She owed it to her father and to her brother to try no matter what.
To her surprise, the General stood and using her dagger, sliced the heavy rope that bound her arms over her head in a single motion. She slumped to the floor in a heap, her weakened body unable to support itself.
The Fang of Gresas squatted before her and she looked up into his amber eyes. Why?
"You have two options. Help me end this war. In exchange, we will kill your Master, and you'll have your revenge and your freedom." He twirled the blade in his fingers expertly, "Or... you can use this blade to end your own life right here." He tossed the blade at her feet. Theodora reached a shakey hand towards the dagger and gripped the handle with bloody pale fingers. "What will it be?" He reached a large calloused hand toward her, offering to help her stand.
She looked up at him and studied his face. "Kill my master?" The words left her swollen lips in a whisper. "Free?" He nodded once, raising a questioning eyebrow down at her. She took a moment to think about it and decided that she would use the current situation to her advantage. Time was needed before she could trust his word, and if he ended up lying to her? She would just kill him.
Theodora reached up to grab the General's hand, and he grabbed it confidently, pulling her to her feet in a swift motion. The sly smile on his face grew, and he tosseled her hair affectionately.