Ms. Tocra has us all walking in line chained. My skin is burning, my cloak was stolen, and my pride was gone. How did I stray so far from my goal? All my plans have completely veered left. There's a heat wave, yet somehow, out of all of us, I'm the only one sweating. No one has said a word this entire time. Not the other slaves, Ms. Tocra, nor the leech carrying the rusty shovels. This woman wants to kill us, all of us. I can feel myself slowly going mad. We stop abruptly and the leech unlocks us one by one and hands us our shovels.

“Alright! Get started, dig your holes,” she screams like a drill sergeant.

Everyone scatters and picks a random spot and begins shoveling. Looking at the sand I start to outline a perfect circle, so I can see where to start my hole and make sure to not cover it with sand. I begin digging with all my might. Stabbing the ground repeatedly. My hands wrapped around the shaft my knuckles turn white. My fingertips turning red ignoring the pain. My feet shifting with every other shovel. Hot sand seeping between my bare toes.

Screaming in my head “No! Why is this happening?” stab. “This isn't fair.” stab. “It wasn't supposed to end like this.” stab. The wooden shaft of the shovel starts to splinter off, it's not long before I stab myself.1, 2, 3 splinters in my hand from stabbing the ground. What does it matter anyway if I'm not out achieving my goal? There's no pain greater than that. People are suffering and dropping like flies as I'm forced to stand here in the hot ass sun digging pointless holes.

A gooey substance begins to creep down my hand and onto the shaft. When I look at it more closely, I come to find it's my blood and sweat staining the dark brown wood slowly.

I stab the shovel so it stands straight up in the ground. I probably shouldn't be stopping unless I want a lash. But I can't help but think how I'm here. I'm not in the bottom chambers of the planet's capital. Not saving the families of this horror. This never-ending nightmare. I don't completely blame anyone for the current situation. It's just that, Xyron and Neelia, the heads of our council haven't made a single good decision since they've been there. Aside from the physician-assisted suicide by local creatures, using moxus for the injection. They've cut down 40% of their donations to help small businesses for no reason. No one knows where the money went or why it disappeared. One day we woke up and Neelia made an announcement that they needed to reduce funding for council purposes. Or should I say reasons that will remain confidential to the public but has been agreed upon by the council it's for the peoples best interest.

However, the economy had been doing better than ever. Business was booming. Poverty was at an all time low. So why pull the funds? Was there a war coming? Were the lands finally going to fight again, due to sacred unresolved problems? So many questions and not a single one answered.

I just want to make it to the tower. I won't ever get it standing around here. I'll demand to see the council when I get there. Even if the folktale doesn't work I want answers. Maybe the people of Xyron haven't thought about it. Or they have but don't have an alternative solution so no one said anything. But something will be done. The people have a right to know the truth, right? Shaking my head to rid of the negative but true thoughts.

I begin to dig again. Thankfully no one noticed I stopped in the first place. No lashes for me. That's one thing to smile about. Maybe the gods are looking after me. Now that's a comforting thought. All of a sudden my insides feel warm and cozy. The sun doesn't bother me as much as it use to.

“Shi mandu dre, kay iso bai, ni nah, bobo lan~” a little human girl sings.

When I look at her I see a small fragile girl. Bright blue eyes filled with hope and joy despite her current circumstances. Her platinum blonde hair with a french braid to the side in the front. A face lightly covered with speckles of sand from working. Her lips a light sugary pink but drying out with every passing second. Her clothes mostly tattered and wrinkled. Yet she was here digging holes with a smile. Singing one of the most famous hymns; Bobo Lani, from the Alfralon Religion which speaks of life happily transforming. How interesting. I look at her.

“Hello, My names Audrey. What's your name?” I ask.

“Trixie.” she answered while digging.

“That's a pretty name.” I say bending down to get on her level “How old would you be?”

“I'm only 10.” stated Trixie.

She is only a child. How could anyone take advantage of a 10-year-old girl and work her to the bone in these conditions? The world is twisted and cruel, we know. We just don't realize how much so until it slaps us in the face I guess. Did she truthfully deserve to be here? How does she make it through this? Is she hurting on the inside? Is that why she was singing a song about peace returning to the motherland. As I contemplate Trixie says something.

“Audrey,” she says “you better get back to diggin.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, don't let Ms. Tocra catch you taking a break. She'll give you a good lashing.”

“I see,” I tell her as I stand up straight.

“Not to mention you're not digging your holes properly either. You're suppose to dig them deep, not long. If she uses the holes you dig, her treasures would be stolen.” she whispers the last part.

My curiosity reaching its peak, I began to think. How does a 10-year-old know so much about digging holes? The way the slave owner prefers them. She seems to know a lot for her age.

I notice that the hole she's been digging is about 1 foot wide and 3 feet deep. Quite efficient and quick for a child. I'm afraid to ask, but I must know. I need to know for certain.

“Trixie,” I began “How long have you been out here? How long have you been working for Ms. Tocra ?”

She looks at me and then proceeds to raise an eyebrow. She begins counting on her fingers. She doesn't say any actual numbers though.

“Well...I started working here when I was 5. I'm 10 now. So how long has it been?”

She can't count, is the first thing that comes to mind. The second is she's been working since the age of 5. This is more or less all she knows. Five years have passed and she doesn't even know it. I don't want to explain to her how long that is. But I'm sure she realizes it's been a very long time.

“Anyway, I ended up here because my mommy lost me. She was gambling again and lost me in a bet. Mommy didn't have any money. So here I am. Digging holes and being raised by Ms. Tocra. She's a good person deep down. Ms. Tocra is like my second mom.”

I feel sorry for her. I try to give her a lighthearted smile. But my eyes are beginning to water on me. My heart is clutching and causing a pain. Don't be so emotional I tell myself. She's a tough little girl. So many reasons in Xyron's society is messed up. More reasons to make it to the castle. This girl deserves to be free. Not saying she needs to go back to her no good mother but she doesn't necessarily deserve to be enslaved either.

Trixie states “Lady, you ask a lot of questions. You better get to work. I'm not trying to be mean or scare you. But if she catches us she's gonna give us a lashing. And I already have two.”

She pulls up the left sleeve of her tattered brown shirt that's barely staying together. She reveals a glowing purple mark. Two S-shaped lashes that make an interesting § mark. I look towards Ms. Tocra and her whip. It's different compared to the one from the other day. It has a skull based handle, and it's glowing from dark magic. She beats her slaves with enchanted whips? Oh Trixie, there's nothing nice about that. You need another mother figure. Cause what you've been exposed to just isn't right.

Trixie and I start digging in sync. Shove, toss, shove, toss. It seems as if it was a million shove and tosses later that a whistle was sounded and Trixie explained to me that meant the work day was over. What a helpful little girl she is. All of the slaves including myself form a single file line. Wait ! Did I just admit to being a slave? Clank. The handcuffs shut around my wrist, bringing me back to reality. Ms. Tocra tells us that we're headed back. This time we aren't blindfolded. Which for some reason is making my skin crawl. I thought I wanted to know where we came and went. Now that it's happening I'm not so sure.

We end up back at the wooden door I had seen before, last night. Wooden, shitty, and with a black handle. I'm not sure I completely understand what's going on. But she's the one in charge. Better not to question things I'm sure. Even when it seems that it makes absolutely no sense.

“Welcome home. Today you will be doing part 2 of your shift.”

How can you have part 2 of a shift? Isn't a shift a shift? That also makes no sense. She didn't even say what we were doing. She does realize I'm new here right?

The leech unlocks the handcuffs one by one taking his sweet time. With every undoing, a creature descends the stairs trying to hide some type of dread. It's finally my turn to go. Heading over to the unknown, cold air hits my skin. It's negative 30 degrees down there. Noticing the walls were made of ice. An underground cave of solid ice. I slowly walk down the hall. Wouldn't want to slip and hurt myself.

Ms. Tocra says from behind me “Welcome to Diamonds Vibe Inn ice pub. You will be waitress here. You shall wear this as your uniform.”

She throws an outfit over my shoulder. It consists of a red tight short fitted kimono. With the top being a laced hex star. But the flowy sleeves traditional. What is this place?

“You will be serving drinks to the most wanted smugglers on the planet. So try to do your best. Good luck. You will have to change in the bathroom which is around the corner from the bar. So hurry and get to work. You must earn your keep here.”

Doing everything she tells me in the order she tells me gets me on the floor quicker than I expected. This outfit keeps me surprisingly warm for it's lacking in fabric. When I get to the bar a bartender is already handing me a platter of drinks. I'm just happy he didn't scratch me with his scaly arms in the process.

“Two Bonnie Bon Bon's and a Bloody Sunday.” he screams yelling out to the crowd not caring if my ear drum shatters.

“Over here. That's us.” a speckled beard toad calls.

“I'm coming,” I say nervously while walking, my foot catches on something.

Bam ! ! ! The platter of drinks crash to the ground. I hit the floor almost bashing my face in. When looking up I see nothing but centipedes floating in its pink lemonade mixing with the radioactive worms from the wasted Bonnie bon bon drinks.

The smugglers, I mean customers don't give me a second look. Which is a good thing I suppose. Less embarrassing on my end. Scrambling to get to my feet a Cralu comes by. Eating all the glass and worms cleaning up my mess. Thank the Alfralon gods for the little elephant-cockroach breed.

Running back over to the bar the waiter already has a new platter for me to deliver. Pacing myself this time going slower than before someone shouts “Hey new girl!” I spin around and accidentally hit a customer with a platter. He's upset and has the drinks spilled all over his clothes. Ms. Tocra pulls me away quickly before he can say a word. Or in this type of environment, lay a hand on me.

“Okay, that's enough out of you. You obviously can't deliver or serve a simple drink. So now you dance.” she says to me in a strict but nervous tone.

I must have screwed up if her voice is wavering. Sounds like I have something to make up for. Or we are both dead. Just get it together already would you.

How? There's a tower waiting for me to invade it. A planet secretly wanting to be saved. And yet here everyone is enjoying themselves in an enchanted underground pub. As if nothing is going on and people of their race aren't dropping by the second.

Time is passing and Ms. Tocra is getting a look on her face. One not quite describable. The imaginary clock begins to tick in my head. Tick, tick, tick. You're supposed to be making a change. But what is one to do? Run and risk being lashed or worst beheaded on the spot. Tick, tick, tick. To make matters even more unpleasant. I've made a friend. Trixie. So young. What will she think if she sees me do this sinful thing? Tick, tick, tick. Is there a way to get out of this situation? Can I ask Ms. Tocra for another job? How could I manage to do something like that? Tick, tick, tick, tock. She reaches for the skull handle of her whip.