Scream's Notes: I should not be making a Magi story when I hadn't even worked on "The World Only God Knows". This story was inspired from shanatique's "The Cuckoo". I had asked ahead and she gave me the green light (thank you, by the way, you're awesome). So, I hadn't read Magi in quite awhile, along with keeping up with Adventures of Sinbad, but I think we're in a safe place for now. Besides, we won't be meeting any of those guys for awhile until I deem it fit.
So, like the current popular trend, this is going to be a SI-OC (Self-Insert, Original Character) story. Why? Well, better question: why the hell not? Anyway, let's move on by getting this story started and you can be the judge of what you think about after you're done reading. Good, okay, average, terrible, you tell me what you think. I need to improve my writing anyway.
Dislcaimer: Magi and The Adventures of Sinbad belongs to Shinobu Ohtaka (with the help of her lovely assistant Yoshifumi Ohtera). My original character(s) belong to me!
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There was a castle erected outside of the carriages.
The Masters looked at the gleaming castle with awe and want, their black eyes alit from gazing at the incredible structure. Usually those looks were reserved for when they made a great sale for their goods, selling away the best of what they had while ridding the useless merchandise that grew dull and bland when no one would buy them. It was a look they saved when they got their hands on better quality goods, gliding and stroking the merchandise that was to their satisfactory.
Slaves were a boom during times of economic decline when countries suffered from the recent wars, getting their hands on any able-bodied individual that could carry heavy loads, work under long hours without pay, and recreate cities lost in the skirmishes of battles; the countries would also buy slaves to fight and die for them. Slaves that could be used to rebuild their countries... or destroy another.
Back to the shining castle that was standing in the middle of a wasteland between Parthevia and Sasan country, the troop of slaves that were left with following the horse-drawn carriages on their barren feet gathered in a huddled circle, watching the slave traders talk amongst themselves. My eyes trailed over the shapes of the giant lion statues that stood over the entrance like large guards, their sneering mouths intimidating several of the slaves (myself included). It was like there were there to challenge people.
But challenge them into what?
It was strange, however, when I looked away from the castle, that I saw no other buildings or walls that would usually surround establishments as huge as this one. All wealthy buyers were escorted by their personal bodyguards, a small militia formed for their protection around their homes and their person. A castle with no kingdom, no city, and no village...
The master of that castle must be an idiot if he had left his establishment wide in the open for anyone to see it and invade it. Nothing to protect him from having his home barraged by opportunists looking to steal his treasures and belongings.
"Hmph. Quite the little imp, aren't you?"
I blinked, looking around for the person who spoke. There was only an old man with a lame leg and a pregnant woman standing near me, both of them red from the harsh beating of the sun and the blisters on their feet.
Gilgo, the crippled old man, his back bent and his skin sagging with a long beard threw grew closer and closer to the floor (the Masters wanted to make him look exotic like that for some odd reason). Gilgo, while crippled, wasn't thrown away: he had a talent. Pottery of the beautiful kind created to catch the eyes of the wives (and mistresses) of the noblemen. Gilgo's bony fingers crafted the most intricate-looking works that made good sales... yet Gilgo wasn't good enough to be bought, much to the annoyance of the Masters.
It was only a matter of time before the old man would be done away with for not being good enough quality.
Tanna, a blond-haired teen with delicate features despite her dirty appearance, was a pleasure slave. The Masters would sell her body for the night to an interested customer, using the money she was worth to head into the pubs and brothels to entertain themselves. They said Tanna was more enticing because she had the blood of an Artemyra woman, the women who rode on top of giant birds and ruled a country made up of mostly women (and the men would stay at home, mind the children, and do tasks only women were usually stuck with). It was with an angry, drunk, and rough customer that made Tanna the way she was now, heavily swollen with a child in her belly, ready to burst at a moment's notice.
The situation was unfortunate, but the Master simply shrugged and said they's simply make another slave out of the baby once it was born.
Another baby that would end up being just like me.
Born a slave, and would eventually die as a slave. I would waste away, walking an endless cycle of being looked at, bought, thrown back out, dragged, and be bought again. A walking jail forever cursed to hear the sounds of chains jingle from every movement the shackles around my feet would make, the sway of my cuffs, and the lock around my neck. I was six-years-old and I knew this was the fate that destiny sealed me to.
And I didn't even have a name to go with my grave.
"Don't count on it, imp."
"You!" slaves scattered away like frightened birds as crooked fingers grabbed the shackle around my neck, dragging me up until I could barely brush my toes against the dusty terrain. "You're going!"
Confused and bewildered, I watched as the Master fumbled with his keys until he found the correct one, sticking the key into the shackle and turning my neck loose. The cuffs around my wrists and legs went, too. I rubbed at the bruised limbs, but I was once again grabbed harshly by the old Master who dragged my tiny frame closer to the shining castle. I gave a tiny yelp when I was tossed, colliding against the shiny floor that reflected my image.
My skin was dark, almost as dark as the sweets I had seen children eat from stalls that specifically sold treats that I heard one slave say made a person's mouth light up from how delicious it was. Their mouths covered with the delicious-looking brown coating, licking it up until it was gone from their sticky fingers. This color was a great contrast from the white hair on top of my head, the hair uneven as it was constantly cut short. It fell down limply, but two stubborn tufts of hair that refused to bend to a comb stood up almost near the top, appearing like horns. My eyes, some older slave girl once said, looked like the special mineral that the Kou Empire revered: a mineral known as jade.
"Get up, you useless wretch," the older Master snapped at me. "Get up and do something useful for once in your pathetic existence!"
His words were harsh, but not something to cry over. Not anymore, anyway. I had heard a lot worse from him, so his slurs were mild compared to the awful stuff he usually spewed at his merchandise. I looked up to the entrance of the castle, wondering why no one was coming to defend it when we are intruding upon a home that we were not invited to (a lesson ingrained on us slaves for every time we were allowed an audience with a potential wealthy customer looking to browse our goods). But the entrance, I noticed with shock, had no doors...
It just... glowed.
'What is this...?' I stared at the entrance with wariness.
The more I looked at the glowing entrance, the more frightened I grew. There was something not right about this place, something that deep in my bones shouted of danger and death.
I was scared when I was whipped, I was scared when some buyer touched me in a way I had seen them only do to Tanna and other older girls, I was scared of hearing the crying and screaming of a slave when the Masters would get rid of them, and I was scared of being not good enough merchandise for the Master...
"What you meet beyond is your choice."
I swallowed thickly, shakily getting up to my bare feet. My mind still felt the danger of the place, and I could always face punishment by getting whipped and not fed for a couple days... yet... Yet I couldn't bring myself to run back to the Masters. I looked up to the statues that hovered over the illuminated entrance of the castle.
The lions were baring their fangs at me, challenging me to step forward.
And step forward I did.