Gwendolyn was in a haze of pain and fear. Her body was bruised and battered, and she could barely move. She had lost all hope, her mind consumed by the thought that this would be her life now, an endless cycle of pain and humiliation.
The soldiers had put her in a cage, the bars digging into her flesh. The stench of urine, rotting wounded flesh, and human excrement permeated the air, making her gag with every breath. The smell was overpowering, a vile concoction of decay and filth that clung to her skin and clothes. The sounds of suffering lingered around her, the moans and cries of other captives a constant reminder of their shared misery.
In the distance, she could hear the howls of wild animals, and she shuddered.
She didn't know how long she had been imprisoned, but it felt like an eternity. Her spirit was broken, and she was a shell of the person she once was.
Suddenly, a noise broke through the haze of her misery. She looked up and saw a group of soldiers approaching.
"What do we have here?" one of the soldiers asked, his voice dripping with contempt.
"A new prisoner," the leader replied. "Just arrived."
"Another useless female," the other soldier scoffed.
"Yes," the leader agreed. "But the master is looking for a special one. So he might have a use for her."
The soldier sneered. "She looks pretty useless to me."
"You never know," the leader said. "Perhaps the master will be interested in her."
The other soldier shrugged. "Whatever. I doubt it."
"I wouldn't be too sure," the leader said, his eyes roaming over Gwendolyn's battered body. "She has the potential. With the right training, she could be quite valuable."
The soldier rolled his eyes. "She looks broken to me. No use for her."
The leader laughed. "Oh, she's broken, all right. But that's exactly what makes her valuable to the master. He prefers them that way—broken and docile. They're much easier to control."
The soldier smirked. "If you say so."
"I do," the leader replied.
"Well, I guess we'll find out," the soldier said. "Let's take her to the master."
The two men dragged Gwendolyn from the cage. She felt the cold metal of the shackles on her wrists, and the rough hands of the soldiers holding her up. Her body ached, and her head was spinning.
The leader gave a cruel smile. "This way, slave."
Gwendolyn was barely aware of the journey. The pain and despair were consuming her, and she could barely stay conscious. Her body was battered and bruised, every step sending waves of agony through her. Hunger gnawed at her insides, and her throat felt like it was on fire from thirst.They pulled her along a dusty path, the distant outline of a town with high fortresses looming ahead. As they approached, Gwendolyn could barely recognize the place, her vision blurred and her mind clouded with pain and exhaustion.
As they entered the town, people turned to look at them. Some watched with curiosity, others with pity or disdain. Gwendolyn felt their eyes on her with both judgment and indifference. She stumbled over the uneven cobblestones, her feet raw and bleeding.
They took her down a winding road, the path twisting and turning as it led them away from the bustling market and crowded streets. The noise of the town faded into a distant murmur, replaced by the sound of rustling leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird.
Finally, they arrived at a big, majestic manor, its grand facade standing in stark contrast to the suffering she had endured. The iron gates creaked open, and she was dragged inside, her heart pounding with fear of what awaited her within those imposing walls.
She felt herself being carried up some hard, cold stone stairs, each step jarring her aching body. The stairs went on forever, and everything around her looked dark and blurry. The men holding her arms squeezed tighter as they pulled her up, making her breathe hard. They grunted as they worked, and she struggled to keep up with then.
Eventually, they reached the top, and a heavy door creaked open. She was ushered inside, the door slamming shut behind them.
The room felt warmer here, but it still made her feel uneasy. It was only lit by flickering candles, casting long, wavering shadows on the walls. There were old pictures and tapestries with serious-looking people. The air smelled of something strong, like incense, mixed with the musty smell of old fabric.
Gwendolyn was dropped onto a soft rug, which felt nice after all the rough treatment. She lay there, trying to calm down and catch her breath. She felt scared and really tired, but she knew she had to stay alert and prepare herself for whatever came next.
They waited inside for what felt like forever. It was quiet, except for their own breathing. Then suddenly, there was a noise from the big door that led to the hallway.
A tall man walked in, followed by some guards.
The soldiers knelt immediately and spoke, "Milord, we have a new slave for you."
"Bring her forward!" a deep voice commanded.
"Yes, milord."
Gwendolyn felt herself being shoved closer to the tall man as two men dragged her towards the big chair. She stumbled and fell to her knees, her body shaking with fear.
She looked up and saw a figure towering over her. He had a powerful build, and his voice resonated with authority. She trembled with fear, not knowing what to expect.
The tall man spoke in a deep, booming voice, "So, this is the girl?"The leader bowed. "Yes, milord. You have seen her in the village. She resisted, but we brought her back as ordered."
Lowering her head, she heard footsteps approaching and then a hand was grasping her chin. He leaned in to lift her face up and take a good look at her.
The leader sneered, "Take a good look at her, milord. Pathetic." The guards burst into laughter, their mocking voices filling the room."Enough!" the tall man boomed, his voice filled with anger. "Leave us at once!"
The soldiers hurried out of the room.