"Splash!"
Jule dropped into a waterhole, swimming to the surface, her heels had sank to the bottom. She broke the surface of the water with a desperate gasp, her lungs burning from the effort. Her rapid, uneven breaths echoed in the quiet air, a stark contrast to the calm ripples around her. Each inhale was harsh, her throat raw and inflamed. She coughed violently, trying to expel the water she had inhaled in her frantic struggle. The coughs were wet and rasping, sending shockwaves through her chest.
As the panic began to fade, Jule treaded water more steadily, her eyes scanning the horizon for the shore. Luckily her overcoat remained however it almost made her drown. It was awfully quiet. It made sense after Jule was captured locked away behind a cage made of wood.
She had alerted nearby merchants who specialised selling slaves. In a way they gave those 'slaves' a fighting chance or an opportunity; depends how they want to make the most of it. In the end, they were able to make profit. But their clothes, use of torches, tools in their hands, and weapons Jule had seen lacked modern touches.
Have I time travelled?
The thought of going back in time made her squirm in disappointment, Jule can imagine how much work there will be without technology to make a living if she can survive in the wild.
Amongst the people who were also captured, Jule chose to sit far away from everyone. They also ignored her after finding her repulsive. She was covered in mud head to toe after being pushed down when her captors had dragged her through the forest. Her hair was matted with leaves and grime, and her clothes were torn and stained from the struggle. The others whispered among themselves, their eyes flicking towards her with a mixture of pity and disdain, but none dared to approach. Jule wrapped her arms around her knees, her mind racing with thoughts of escape, yet her body ached from exhaustion.
Wherever they were carted to, Jule slept throughout the journey, only occasionally being woken up to eat scraps. Without complaints, she ate to go back to sleep. It had been so long since Jule could sleep without being disturbed due to work and the endless demands. Now, the exhaustion from her ordeal rendered her oblivious to the discomfort of the rough cart and the jostling of the journey.
When the cart finally came to a halt, the captors prodded everyone out, shoving them towards a dimly lit encampment surrounded by tall, imposing walls. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and sweat. Jule stumbled as she climbed down, her legs wobbly from prolonged inactivity.
Inside the encampment, the captives were herded into a large, makeshift pen. Jule found a corner and collapsed there, her back against the cold, wooden wall. She watched as the others huddled in small groups, whispering plans or comforting each other. Nobody approached her, and she was glad for it.
Night fell, and the encampment grew quiet. There were shuffling sounds, and before Jule could react, she was tossed over a broad shoulder. Cries erupted from behind as young girls were separated from the others, their voices filled with fear and desperation.
The merchant had them in rows, including Jule, her hands and feet chained, connecting each of the girls together. These individuals looked to be hardened traders, their faces devoid of empathy, their eyes scanning the captives with the practiced indifference of those who saw them merely as goods.
Jule glanced around at the other girls, their faces pale and eyes wide with terror. They varied in age, but all shared the same haunted expression. The chains clanked with each hesitant step as they were herded towards a large, ornate tent at the edge of the encampment. The merchant, a tall man with a cruel smile and a calculating gaze, stood at the entrance, evaluating his new acquisitions.
Inside the tent, the air was thick with incense, masking the underlying scent of sweat and fear. Richly decorated, it was a stark contrast to the harsh conditions outside. The girls were lined up in front of a low platform, where the merchant addressed them.
"Welcome," he said, his voice smooth and sinister. "You are now my property. Behave, and you may see the light of day again. Disobey, and your fate will be far worse."
The man then led inside a well-dressed butler. He was dressed in immaculate black tails, a crisp white shirt, and polished shoes that reflected the flickering light of the tent's candles. His hair was slicked back, and his expression was one of detached professionalism, as though the scene before him was just another part of his daily duties.
The merchant addressed him with a nod. "My Lord will like the first row of your batch," he instructed. "Follow me." After receiving their payment. The butler, whose demeanor contrasted sharply with the brutish guards, stepped forward and began to inspect the girls with a practiced eye.
He moved with an unsettling calmness, checking their chains and making note of their conditions. When he reached Jule, he paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers with a fleeting hint of something—pity, perhaps, or curiosity.
Jule stared back, unwavering. The butler continued his assessment, his face returning to its mask of indifference.
They wandered under the covers of the night with the brutish guards. Jule in tow kept a steady paced behind the others. They were ushered into a passaged way. Two of the guards remained outside while the others followed behind.
It was a sight to be hold. Jule was flabbergasted to discover the interior was marble all around them, with only flames to light the room of a spa sort of place.
I did travel back in time.
Tears of regret streamed down her cheeks as she realised the full extent of her situation. The luxurious surroundings felt like a cruel joke in the face of her captivity. The polished marble floors, the ornate columns, and the flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the walls—it all confirmed she did time traveled. Despite there were signs of people in armour wielding swords, and torches. Deep down Jule did not want to regret jumping into her portal out of spite.
The butler moved among them, his polished shoes clicking softly on the marble. He directed the girls to sit in a semi-circle around a grand fountain in the center of the room, its clear water sparkling in the firelight. Despite the beauty of the setting, a palpable tension hung in the air.
Jule wiped her tears with the back of her hand, steeling herself for whatever came next.