I opened my eyes, and a blinding sun stabbed through them. Pain—sharp, raw, everywhere—roared to life, burning in my shoulders and knees. My wrists throbbed against something tight and unrelenting. My stomach dropped. I couldn't move my hands.Bound.I froze. A wave of panic gripped my chest, strangling me. My body leaned awkwardly against a wooden post, knees pressing into the rough, dirt-covered ground. I tried to scream, but something choked my voice. A cloth stuffed in my mouth.This isn't real. It's a nightmare. It has to be.My heart hammered as I blinked the light from my vision. The world came into focus—a chaos of people moving, talking, bartering. A market. I groaned into the gag, desperate to make a sound, to get someone to see me.But no one even looked.A little boy sat nearby, a basket of fruit beside him, snot running down his nose. He stared at me—no curiosity, no fear, just blank indifference.Help me. Please.The silent scream in my eyes did nothing. He wiped his nose and turned away.To my left, I finally noticed him—another person bound to a post like me. He wasn't moving. His head hung limp, blood crusted over the side of his face. A dull chill crept over my skin. This wasn't just a market. This was Ashudhar.The memories hit me like broken glass. My family. My dad, his friends. A strange voice speaking a language I half-recognized—Ashubol. My throat burned as I swallowed hard.Nearby, footsteps crunched against gravel. A man in a sleeveless hide jacket and polished boots stepped into view. His beard was scruffy, his grin sharper than any knife. Behind him, a masked figure dismounted a chariot, taller than the others, his dark coat billowing in the hot breeze.The bearded man pointed at the unconscious prisoner, hauled the poor man's head back like he was livestock, and showed him to the masked figure.The masked man shook his head, his voice low and foreign, a rejection. Then—he turned to me."No," I muttered behind the gag, trying to shake my head, trying to disappear.The bearded man grabbed my hair, wrenching my head back. My neck screamed in protest, but I met the masked man's gaze—cold eyes under a face obscured by dark cloth. The corners of those eyes crinkled. A smile.He nodded.Gold coins changed hands. My wrists fell loose as the ropes were cut, and for a breath, relief swelled inside me. But then a hand closed like iron around my arm."Let me go!" My voice was hoarse and useless, my body no match for his strength.The masked man dragged me toward the chariot. "Stop struggling," he growled, his voice thick with an accent. "Do you know what a risk I'm taking bringing you to the palace? You should be grateful I bought you. Better me than the merchants who'd feed you to their guard dogs."The words knocked the fight from me. Feed me to their dogs.I stumbled as he shoved me into the chariot. I curled into a corner, clutching my bruised knees, the world outside bouncing with every jolt of the vehicle.He walked me to a shed-like place and threw me on the concrete floor. The man shouted something in Ashubol then turned to leave. I looked around watching the women standing all around me, murmuring among themselves. They stared at me like I was some abomination. What was I supposed to do now? I kept sitting on the floor, expecting someone to say something, anything. I observed my surroundings. I was in a big shed with hundreds of women eyeing me, some with hate, others with pity in their expressions."Can I get some water?" I asked a woman standing close to me. She gasped, placing a hand on her mouth as if she had seen a ghost and moved away. My throat felt like sandpaper but I asked again. "Please, someone," I begged."Shut up, you are not to talk unless you are asked to," A middle-aged woman yelled in broken, heavily accented human tongue. "You are not to speak in human-tongue ever or I will make sure to shut your mouth for good.""Why are you people doing this to me?" I cried out, enraged by all the bullshit. The woman snapped in Ashubol at the women I had requested for water earlier and they all scurried back to whatever they were doing. The older woman glared at me one last time before leaving.I wanted to scream in frustration. How could none of these women try to help? As if in answer to my unspoken question, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see a girl sitting on her knees with a glass of water. I took the glass and gulped down the contents eagerly."Hi, my name is Thika." She said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You should change into something comfortable. Human clothes might get you in trouble.""How do you know my language?" I said, seeing hope in this fucked up situation."My grandmother was an Ihalo. She transported a lot of humans between the dimentions." She smiled and handed me a blue outfit similar to the one she and everyone else here was wearing. A long-sleeved Maxi dress that had an apron stitched at the midriff."Is she alive? Can she send me back to my world?" I asked eagerly.She frowned in confusion. "All the Ihalos were killed during The Great War.""No, that can't be true. I have seen one, he brought my family to Ashudhar."The girl squeezed my arm. "I am sorry." She sounded genuinely apologetic, so I didn't press her further. She was right, I needed to get out of my dirty clothes, they felt sticky and muddy. I could do anything for a clean warm shower. The soft cotton of the fabric in her hand was calling to me. I took the outfit and asked her where the bathroom was. She pointed towards the end of the shed. She helped me walk to the bathroom, only the bathroom was an open space with a bucket and a well."Let me fetch you some water." the girl said, pulling water out of the well nearby and placing it near the drain. "My duty doesn't start for at least an hour. Call me if you need anything." She gave me a parting smile before returning to one of the bunker beds that were placed on both sides of the long rectangular shed.I was finally starting to accept the reality. This was worse than my scariest nightmares. One minute, I was sleeping in my comfortable bed back home and the other, I was being hurled into this world. I looked around the shed, then at the open area near the drain. I gathered I wasn't going to get any privacy but at least there were no men in here.I peeled off my clothes reluctantly. The cold immediately sent a shockwave through my body. The air here was chillier than my hometown. I tested the water and sighed with relief. It was somewhat warm. There was no soap or scrub so I had to make do with water alone. Every time the water hit any of my wounds, I winced.Few minutes into bathing, I didn't care about my nakedness even though I was in full display of hundreds of women. All I wanted was to be warm again. I put on the blue outfit, feeling sad when it fit snugly against my body, not doing much to cut the cold.Once I was done I walked through the rows of bunker beds aimlessly. No one cared to talk or even look at me."You look so much better," Thika commented when I walked past her bed. She climbed down her bunker and smiled sadly. "We don't have beds left. You might have to sleep on the ground. I am sorry.""It's okay," I said, not knowing what else to say. I didn't know what place this was or why I was here in the first place."I didn't catch your name earlier," Thika said."Kirti," I answered. "Why am I here?" I asked as my brain finally started to function properly again."You don't know?" She frowned. I shook my head, clutching my arms closer to my body and squeezing."We are palace servants. I am not sure why they brought you here. Humans are not allowed inside the palace. They only work in the valley, mostly for the merchants." The mention of merchants made me shiver. Merchants feed human flesh to their guard dogs."How long have you been working here?" I asked, trying to change the topic."Two years now." She said in a matter-of-fact tone."Zavi is the king here, right?" I asked tentatively. His name brought sweet familiarity. I tried so hard to steer clear from his path, to forget him, but life works in mysterious ways. As much differences as we had, he was my only hope of getting out of this mess."Kirti!!" Thika whisper-yelled, looking around, almost panicked. "Are you crazy? Never take the king's name like that ever again. Call him Raza, he should be respected."I bit the inside of my lip in irritation. Why did that sound so familiar? That's what he always used to tell me, "Treat me with respect, I am the Raza." Even though he emphasised it multiple times, I could never bring myself to believe him. When he told me about Ashudhar I thought he was bluffing but of course he was not."Your Raza approves of all this?" I asked, indicating the poor living condition of the women.She looked away, a shadow of anger clouding her face. "His family started it, why wouldn't he approve?" she said behind gritted teeth.He approved, of course, he did. He was always the cruel one, even though he never showed that part of him to anyone. I saw right through him. I knew all his secrets."Can I meet him?" I asked only to incite shocked looks from the other inmates."Slaves are not allowed to interact with the members of the Royal Family without permission. Especially not a human slave."Should I tell her I have more than interacted with their king? I have spent half of my life around him.