———

My arms ache. They burn. I can't even wince. They don't allow shows of discontent. I have to be strong and strong and oh-so-happy with whatever the fuck meagre scraps they give me. I'm a dirtperson, right? Only valued for my strength. Only valued for my physical capabilities. Only pushed to the very absolute brink of what I can take. I'm lugging two heavy suitcases, following steps behind the family. I want to put the suitcases down. They're too much for my scrawny arms. I can't though. 

I can't put them down. I have to keep walking. Keep pace. Always be just a few steps behind them. Not alongside them. Never. Just a few steps behind them and ghost-silent. My heart clenches with this sort of misery that I can't describe. It hurts it hurts it hurts.

The weather is nice. It's muddy though and the mud is making it harder for me to trudge through the dirt streets. The family has rolled up their pant legs and lifted their skirts and is complaining about it, because they always find the most trivial and stupid things to complain about. It's midway through spring. The birds are just starting to fly back. The sun's rays are incrementally getting brighter. The leaves are just coming out of their buds. It would be beautiful if I was able to enjoy any of it. If there was ever anything besides torrential thunderstorms and inky darkness and sharp cutting barbs going on in my insides. 

We're on our way to the train station. They're going on a holiday. The family is. To the Southern Shores. They say it's warm there. Warmth and water and the vast ocean that I've never seen. I've heard tiny tidbits of conversation. They speak of how fun and beautiful and good it would be to have a holiday they could spend together at the sparkling oceanside resort. 

I'm not going with them but for that I am glad. It's a few days where I don't have to bear their presence. 

But still, it hurts nonetheless. 

I keep my gaze low, looking at the ground so as not to trip. The mud made the ground full of bumps and pits. If I trip, the suitcases will get muddy and they'll hate that so much. But despite how hard I'm trying, the ground is too uneven, my arms are too tired, my mind is too unfocused. 

I tumble on a root, sprawling onto the jagged dirt of the ground. My heart lurches and jumps to my throat. I try my best to keep the suitcases safe. But they hit the ground. They hit the ground anyways. For a seemingly infinite moment all I can feel is pain and terror. My knee stings with pain and if I was capable of crying I would. I'm hurt I'm hurt I'm hurt. And I'm about to be hurt so much more. The world shifts back into focus as my knee aches and my heart thuds. 

"You imbecile!" Vendi is yelling at me, "you utterly useless girl! Why did you do that?!" My heart stops as I stare at her with wide eyes. I'm a deer in the headlights. I'm hurt and I'm scared and she's saying it's my fault. 

"Get up, girl!" The way he says girl, he might as well have been saying cockroach or something. Altoulious's rage makes me want to curl up into myself but I force myself to stand. Though my knee aches at the movement.

"The suitcases are ruined! Look at them! They're so dirty! You had one job, girl! You had one single job!" She rages on. I'm paralyzed by fear. "You are so utterly pathetic! How come you can never do anything right? Look at them! Just look at them! They were so beautiful! And now you've ruined them! Girl, you will have to fix this! As soon as we get to the station you better make sure to clean all this dirt off! I swear!" I don't want to be listening to this. 

"Yes. Okay. I will." My voice comes out just a bit shakier than it normally does, no matter how hard I try to control it. She does not notice at all though. 

"Are you cut?" Vendi asks me, her voice cold and hard as daggers. 

"Yes ma'am." 

"Oh Fates not another problem. Now I have to deal this as well. Can I ever not get some peace? Can I ever not get some quiet? We will give you a bandage when we get to the station." 

"Thank you, ma'am." My voice feels so small. 

"Good," she replies. "You're so clumsy. Dear Fates you literally cannot stop from tripping over yourself for two fucking minutes you're such a useless girl!" 

I don't say anything to this. 

I keep struggling with my bags, ignoring the stinging in my knee. I swallow down the lump of pain in my throat, ignoring the way it grows and blooms and festers in my chest. I feel really put down by that insult, by that tone. No put down isn't strong enough. I feel wrung out. I wish someone could give me a hug. I wish I had someone to collapse into. Someone who could hear my side of the story. 

The family keeps moving and talking as if nothing has even happened. As if I'm not even there anymore. For some reason this sends a stab of pain through me even sharper than all the pain that was already there. They conversate with each other. Talk about things I can't and don't want to really listen to. Talk about the warmth and the waves and the luxury hotels and the seaside shops. They talk about how much they deserve a vacation. Heap praises onto their son like they always do. I am a shadow like I always am. A shadow and a thing, a thing to be used. 

I want someone to talk to me the way they're talking to each other. Freely. Affectionately. I want someone to hear me, to really truly hear me, and actually care about what I have to say. I want to be able to talk freely and honestly and sincerely. I want a parent to listen to my thoughts and my feelings and my hopes and my dreams. I want to be heard. Dear universe, I want to be heard. I feel, as I always do, like my lips are stitched together. 

Niamus is, well he's only a little older than me. He's a child technically. But he doesn't really feel like a child. He's too cruel, too hard, too all-powerful, too objectively terrifying. And unlike me his feet are free. All the time. He likes sports and movement and dancing. And he's doing a little dance as he goes along, skipping merrily. 

I strain against my mind like I always, always, always do. I'm weary of constantly being here doing this. 

Niamus trips over a coiled root. He doesn't fall. Not at all. He kind of just, stumbles. He ends up ending up on one knee though, the dirt staining his expensive pant legs. 

"Oh sweet baby! Are you alright!" Vendi exclaims, voice full of concern. She immediately kneels down to take Niamus in her arms. 

"Oh darling don't worry, it happens sometimes. Nothing to worry over." Altoulious's words to his son are full of comfort. He runs his hands through his son's hair while his wife wipes at the mud on Niamus's knee.

"Mama, papa, I'm fine." Niamus proudly basks in the attention though, despite his words. He is smiling widely. Proudly. The sun shining like an electric halo on his head. Chosen one of the Fates. Prince Audra reborn. 

"Come here let me hug you," Vendi coos. 

I choke back a sob.

————

I'm sweeping the floors. Even though they're barely dusty. If it's what my masters want it's what they'll get though. They hold my life in their hands. I make my way to Niamus's room. He's studying. He's on his bed, one foot on the floor. Writing something. It's not my business what. Though I am curious. 

I'm absolutely silent as I sweep through the entire room. At one point I get to him. 

"Master, can you please move your foot?" 

"Can't you see I'm trying to concentrate here?" He almost-shouts but it's no worse or better than usual. 

"I'm sorry. You can get back to your book after a second." 

"And you're telling /me/ what to do now? You have no idea how much concentration this takes. You mud-for-brains idiots have no idea how much concentration is needed for intellectual things." Seriously? He's telling me /this?/ Does he know now much concentration is needed to cook and clean and fetch and carry every single goddamn thing the Towerpeople tell me to? Fuck this idiot. 

"Master you only think you're smarter than me because they sent you to school and not me."

"I can't believe this. I am telling my father. You are getting punished. You really think you're smarter than me? The reason you dirtpeople like you don't go to school is that there would be no point. You're not smart enough. You wouldn't learn anything." 

"Go fuck yourself."

I didn't eat for a week straight after that. 

————

I wake up. I don't want to. I want to stay asleep forever, to never have to open my eyes again. It's better to sleep than it is to be awake. 

I breathe deeply. Raggedly. Trying to strengthen myself. It doesn't work. I wrest myself out of "bed" though and I straighten up my hair a bit before starting my day. 

———

The family prays a lot. They pray every day in fact. And after they pray they sit down and read from the Scroll of Sacred History together. Once a month they make me join in. I guess for stories they think would scare me into submission. 

They make me sit on the floor at their feet and be perfectly silent while they discuss the scripture.

"Lakei was a young dirt boy," Vendi says in a calmly serious voice. "He thought himself very grand. Thought himself above his station. He thought himself very clever and smart. Smarter than the Towerpeople who gave him all he had. Smarter than the Fates even, who give us all all that we have." 

"Was he a bad guy?" Niamus's voice is curious and lightly laced with wonder. 

"I'm sure we'll find out from the story, won't we son?" Altoulious's voice is light and softly affectionate. He never talks that way to me. A stab of pain shoots through my chest and over my throat. It always hurts to see how soft the masters can be with each other. 

"Anyways," Vendi continues, "he thought himself smarter than the Fates, and that he could deceive even them. He ran from the home in which he had lived for all his life, from his family and his masters. And he journeyed out into the wilderness. There he fashioned for himself a blade made out of the glint of ice on sunlight, and the reflection of stars in still water. He infused the blade with all the hatred he had in his heart and all the scheming he had in his mind. He forged a weapon that was almost strong enough to kill the Fates. But unbeknownst to him, it was not strong enough."

I know Lakei's story will end in defeat and in pain. His life will be a burning disaster comparable to my own. And he will see that he has no hope. But somewhere deep inside me is a small ember of hope that maybe he will find some form of escape, or victory. 

"The brave and wise Bhadensa made three birds out of a stout tree he got his slaves to chop down. He sent these birds out over the lands to see what was going on. The birds saw Lakei living in the wild lands like a savage. And they reported this to Bhadensa. 

"Bhadensa realized that he must do something about the threat of Lakei before the hate-filled savage did anything that hurt the people. And so he got his sword and his shield. And he prepared a chariot to go out into the wilderness and find Lakei. 

"So there he found him hidden away in a cave in the mountains. And there he told Lakei that he had one chance. He could give up this dangerous dream and return to his masters or he could face down Bhadensa's sword. Lakei got out his blade made out of wildness and hate. 

"But Bhadensa's sword was made of powerful elements too. It was made from the deepest mine dug in the tallest mountain. And forged in a sacrificial fire in which he had burned an accursed sorceress. And into the blade was worked diamonds from the palaces of the Fates themselves. Nothing could be more powerful than this sword, besides Their power. 

"They fought for three days. And each night when the stars came out Lakei started winning the battle. Each day when the sun came out Bhadensa started winning. But slowly and surely Bhadensa wore out Lakei and his accursed blade. 

"He put Lakei in magical shackles and locked him in a cave deep within the earth. And it is there that Lakei remains to this day."

In a cave all alone. In a house full of people all alone. What's the difference? At least Lakei doesn't have to see what love is like, only for it to be forever denied him.

————

Niamus is licking an ice-cream cone. Ice-cream is a newfangled invention. It's brand new cutting-edge technology. I bet it's really cool. I have no idea what it tastes like. I hear that it's sweet. I hear that it's cold and creamy. All of that together would taste really rather strange. But strange in a good way. I want to try some. But they say it's only for free people. It's not for the slaves. So very many things are not for the slaves and I hate being a slave. So much. 

He glances at me and then looks away. He doesn't really see me. I don't know what he sees. He goes back to licking the ice cream like he doesn't have a care in the world. Like nothing's wrong and he's happy, happy, happy. Something in my heart twists and twists and then twists again. Until my heart is wrung out dry. 

He even lets drops of it melt onto the floor, where I will inevitably have to wipe them up. 

I want some ice cream too. 

I know better than to ask for any. 

————

My dad is standing in the sunlight. He smiles at me. Ruffles my hair. 

"Hey kiddo. We're here to take you home." He lifts me into his arms. And my mother comes up from behind and kisses me on the cheek. I'm crying. But these are tears of joy. 

"My child. Sweetheart. I missed you so much." Her voice is so sweet. So full of love. Just how I remember it. Except it's not tired this time. 

"Nancee!" My oldest brother, Ari, runs up to us. He still looks as young as he did all those years ago when I was taken. "I have a new game we can play. You'll like this one. I ..." 

"Can I play too?" My youngest older brother chimes in. I haven't seen him in so long. 

"Of course, Drayo," Ari says brightly. "Mama, Daddy let Nancee go so she can play with us." 

"I only saw her after years, I'm going to hug her for a long time," Mama says. 

"I want to hug Nancee too!" My middle brother Kolti lifts his arms to try to hug me but he's too short. Daddy and Mama sit down on the ground and all my brothers join the hug. We all embrace each other for a long time. I feel warm. Soft. Light. Like all the heaviness and the poison has been lifted and there is only joy and warmth. We stay like that for a while. 

"I remembered you every day, Nancee," Drayo says to me, patting me on the head, "and now I can see you every day." 

"We'll walk into the forest and they won't never ever find us." Kolti smiles that lopsided smile of his. 

"All my children are together now." Mama strokes all of our hair. 

"I managed to steal some sweets for you all" Daddy announces. He hands us little rectangles wrapped in foil. 

The sun shines like spring and the grass is soft and cool and peace is something I know.

But then I wake up. And it's dark. And I'm all alone on the hard floor. And I don't have anyone to save me from the darkness. And I don't have my family.