The echoing halls were as empty as Delah’s heart while she was escorted to her chambers. Her head hurt. Itched was a better word. She scratched near her temple, hair tangling between her fingers. Somewhere beneath the itch she believed was a game. The blankness in her mind haunted her the same way as a game she would play, walking through a labyrinth while amused as she bounced a ball. In the game, she’d become disoriented by the toy. As she followed her escorts, she constructed her thoughts and pushed past her obscurity. This had to make sense.

The toy was fear; that made sense. Toss the toy away and you’ll find the way out. It’s just a game, she thought. If she closed her eyes, turned ‘round and ‘round, and opened them, everything would be back to normal. But it wasn’t.

Rustling hems of robes irritated her like arms holding her down, keeping her captive. She couldn’t shake the images: streaks of blinding and hurting lights, loud noises, hiding, running, and falling. Someone had caused her heart to flutter when she thought of the horrifying scream that had stunned her. Somebody close to her had been hurt, but she couldn’t grasp who it had been. Delah lowered her head.

Red. A primary color that she’d learned from somewhere. Red had flowed from the scream of someone. Delah shook while she was escorted. Red had flowed all over her: like the last painted stroke of sunset, warning a storm was ahead; like fire and rain, turning dark into their red mud.

Try to remember. Why was it so important to remember? Should she worry? Was this normal for a Shatarian? No Araidian? No, who or what was she?

She blinked, watching the hall that seemed to lengthen. Trying to recount everything was scary. Something had elevated her from the red. Arms with itchy, pokey material had been disturbing—hard, cold arms. They had changed to prod and prick her. And the sharp objects had hurt while the sticky fingers went into her head. She shivered. Who was she?

Delah watched the floor made of cracks and textured marble beneath her feet. She slowed her pace. Don’t look down at the floor. She should hold her head high. She’s somebody. Whatever she knew hovered at the tip of her tongue. I’m royalty? Maybe—something was wrong, missing.

Baroque arches that decked the windows protruded the dark walls. From the arched windows, beams of sun rays splayed onto the floor while particles of dust reeled in the light. Two women cloaked in albs directed her to the chamber tiered with others of arched doorways lined down the walkway. She followed the pointing hand into the light which blinded her at first.

She saw the simple bedding and a vanity adjacent. A desk, books, and a terminal extended from the wall. The center of the floor had a strange circle with markings. These were foreign to her. She walked through her room, perusing the accommodations. At one point, she passed by a concave wall, and the wall opened to display a closet of apparels: gowns, headpieces, slippers, feminine uniforms, and jewelry. The richness almost choked her.

“This is your living quarters, Your Highness. We hope it meets your approval.”

The female, imperious in an alb, had colored powder above eyelids lined with green. They sparkled like jewels. Her hair appeared like a diadem: stones of ruby, sapphire, emerald, and diamonds all shone within her braids of gold. Delah had noticed how beautiful this stately woman was. She wondered who was alongside her, an assistant?

“I was not able to introduce myself and your mistress of instruction.” The imperious woman heightened her chin. “I am the Gracious Betha-busa, dignitary to the most Illustrious Watchman of Araidia, Eyetna of the House of Ontomus Di-Antalomus. This is,” she graciously gestured to the other woman in an alb, “Mistress Khamal of the Court of Aspiring Cloakwomen, Tutelage of Instruction.”

Mistress Khamal starkly contrasted Gracious Betha-busa with sinking features, her face lined with bitterness and cold eyes. Her hair was shortly cropped and mouth lightly painted in rose, turned up.

“I will be your instructor,” Mistress Khamal remarked. “And you must do all I bid, and especially all that our Gracious Betha-busa bids. First, always give heed to your dignitaries. Though your records say you are of royal descent, you must always bow before her.” Delah wondered how in the Shatazar she got here.

Stealthily, like a forgotten flavor brought back to remembrance, her mother and cousin came to mind. And the child became concerned.

“Gracious One, may I petition you?” Delah asked.

Betha stepped forward. “You may.”

“Why am I here? Where are my mother and cousin? I’m lost. Can you tell me where to go? I...I...” She couldn’t grasp what exactly had happened to her. But her questions ceased rolling from her lips when Betha’s angry stare held Delah silent. Strange how fear bounced back to her.

Betha instructed her two attendants and the mistress to leave. After they departed, Betha began interrogating Delah.

“What do you remember?”

Betha had to know exactly what the child recalled. Those animals guarding the Centrex were to erase everything, even the child’s current memory and replace it with a mocked memory file, as she did with Yal. Something must have gone awry. And why didn’t they inform her? Oh well, to say the least, she didn’t trust them in the first place. It didn’t matter. She knew how to resolve this without any further harm to anyone. In the meantime, this operation had to be taken step-by-step, measure-by-measure.

“I don’t know?” The child’s eyes seemed to be searching for something familiar. “I was playing, and...I can’t remember.” The child worriedly shook her head. Betha put her arms around her.

“Come, little one. I believe the most Illustrious Watchman Eyetna of Araidia has a welcoming gift for you, dear.” Betha guided the girl to her bed and sat her down. “I must leave now, but there should be a knock on your door. It will be Eyetna’s gift.” This gift was to win the child’s loyalty, which would prove easily obtained. “I don’t know what it will be, but will you please let me know how much you liked it, yes?” The girl nodded, and Betha leaned to kiss her on the cheek. “Don’t worry, it should be beautiful. Maybe more jewels, or a special gown, yes?” The child nodded again and was left alone.

The room dimmed. The sun lapsed into the horizon. It irritated her that what had happened was at the tip of her tongue. Seconds later, a heavy bang startled her to her feet. She heard the hail of the attendants.

“Your Royal Esteemed One, we have arrived with your gift.” A deep voice boomed at her door.

Delah opened the door to two towering men with boastfully large muscles, displaying their upper torso. No helmets or heavy garb were on the men, only bottoms, belted weaponry, and boots. She let them in, expecting packages to open. Only nine-years-old and missing her family, all she wanted to do was go home. She had opened the door to attendants, who raped her.

●

Delah slid down the wall, her back against it, to the floor. She rested her head on her knees with arms wrapped around her legs, holding herself tightly.

She hadn’t seen the attendants that violated her groveling on the marble floor. She hadn’t seen them convulsing and dying from her bite, either. She’d blindly grabbed a sheet and ran out of her chambers. The acrid taste of blood still lingered in her mouth. Red like the wounds from a plasma lash!

While she rocked herself, she suddenly remembered the blasts, smoke, and yells of slaves being whipped. Was her mother dead? Her mother…she barely recalled her name. “Lepa?” Delah slowly pronounced the name. “Leh…tuh…tis! Leptis!” She repeated it in a whisper.

Leptis had taught her what being a virgin meant and the importance to only give up one’s virginity after the union ceremony before God. Teeabu knew God so well, but she didn’t. Now she would never know God because she was defiled. Teeabu and all her people, the Shatarians, would hate her.

She was a prisoner and couldn’t return home; she was stripped of her virginity.

Mother? Mother? Was her mother still alive? Fear gripped Delah’s heart, and the tears cascaded down her cheeks to dry, leaving tracks for more tears.

The child huddled in a corner of the hallway, bloodied with a sheet covering her. Betha approached her, seeing the other students peering out their doorways. Too much attention was drawn to this incident.

“Everyone, return to your chambers,” Mistress Khamal barked. “There will be early classes tomorrow.”

“I will take care of this,” Betha said, gesturing the mistress to leave. “Come. Is Delah your name?” The girl didn’t answer, trembling violently. She vomited over the dignitary—nasty display.

She had to take the girl to the med lab with no attendants following. A special tubule with car awaited them, as one side of the wall opened on Betha’s command. The network of tubules, needling through traffic above and underground took them into the caverns of the mountain and to the med lab.

“Creatures!” She took the child by the shoulders and held her steady. “Help her.”

The two guardians laid her on a slab. “Why is she so, so damaged?” Hashhhi asked. “We just prepared her, Your, Your Grace.”

“Eyetna’s gift turned out to be a snare,” Betha lied, hoping the child heard every word. “She has been raped by Eyetna’s attendants. She must have these ruptures healed. You must restore her virginity. Eyetna will have a virgin for his cloakwoman. My position will not be jeopardized.”

“We can assimilate her virginity, Your, Your Grace. The assimilation will serve the same purpose as flesh tissue being replaced.”

“Do it!” Betha waited, and they accomplished what she needed.

They were in another chamber, different than the central med lab. The child’s eyes rounded as she supported herself on her elbows. She seemed to be in pain.

Betha sat beside her, holding her hand. “We mustn’t tell anyone of this assault and embarrassment. The guards must have either obeyed Eyetna’s command, or behaved on their own. Whichever the case, they have been made an example of. You have no need to worry.” She grasped the child’s cold hands tighter. “They are dead. I can’t understand why.” Betha sighed, feigning genuine concern. “It must be the gods’ punishment. You won’t have to face them anymore.”

She embraced the child. “This is your home, now. And this is our secret. You must tell no one of who you really are. I believe your people will not accept such blasphemy and will not accept you back in their society. But we accept you, Delah, your royal highness.” Betha smiled and gently released the child’s hands and strongly gripped the small child’s shoulder. “I’m never far away, so you must learn the ways of the cloakwoman and find a new life here. Understand?”

The child answered with a nod and shivered.

                                                                                                           To be continued...