Two

Two Years Later

A fragrant breeze punctuated the breath of Elysion and the sun slowly sunk into the sea and the torches were lit in the slave hold. A large fire had been made in the centre and the slaves had been favoured with meat and wine.

A large hog, run through on the spit and slowly being turned in the flame it's skin turning black and the sumptuous aroma swamped the air. The old women carved pieces of meat from its flank, handing it out to their eager kin. It was not often the slaves were fed meat.

Sin's long dark hair reflected the orange of the fire, her dark eyes were bright with it. "It's almost time." She murmured to her little sister who sat quietly beside her leaning into her body to absorb her warmth.

Her sister was no more than twelve, not yet come to her first blood but her features were pretty and her expression without guile and punctuated with kindness. "For what, Sin?" A clean sweet voice to match her wide brown eyes.

"The Choosing." She breathed.

Little sister looked up at her with a frown, her features obscured by a puff of smoke. The event of the Choosing was never concealed from even the youngest of slaves, though little sister being younger than Sin herself still felt herself to be immortal and did not understand the dread that preoccupied Sin.

Big Sister hissed at them as she passed by, most of her kin did not like others to mention the Choosing, as if it never haunted their lives. Each year her kin had expected and prayed for Sin to be taken and each year they were disappointed as others were taken instead.

"You have lasted fifteen springs." Little sister said with a reassuring smile. "You will be here again come tomorrow."

Sin had walked with a heavier heart the past few days, portents came from the sky and the soil speaking of dark things that were coming for her. She had prayed to the gods but the gods had not answered.

Sin had lived with the guilt of her sister's death for many years, it ticked inside her chest as powerful and vital as her own heart. She faced each task with silence, her eyes humbly set to the ground, she did not go wandering beyond the fence and did not turn her thoughts to freedom. She kept her head down, her eyes dark with the bleak knowledge that all she had to look forward to was death.

"You never go to the field, Sin." Little sister whispered.

Sin shook her head and cast her eyes to the trees above the fence line; the Hounds would be prowling the forest perimeter the thought of them made her shiver. "It's not safe."

Little sister sighed. Once it was Sin who had whispered in the dark, pushing any of her kin brave enough to slip out in the full swathe of the moon to lie in the fields of wheat. Not anymore…not ever again.

Sin lifted her eyes, peering across the flames and saw her cousin - her lover's - unmistakable silhouette. He seemed to turn his whole being away from her and she made a sigh that matched her little sister's.

Sin did not eat the meat or drink the wine, her stomach complained but she wouldn't tempt herself with the poison gifts.

Little sister was called away to serve the wine in clay cups, she gave Sin's shoulder a small squeeze.

Sin stood and walked, the others happy to ignore her as they had since that blood-soaked day, barely raising an eye, barely raising their voice to address her. She made her way to the dark recess of the Hold to stare at the moon, along with her thoughts, able to offer silent prayers to Artum and Inana and any other gods she knew of by name and deed.

There were altars to both within the Hold, they had already lay the succulent slivers of meat as an offering to them.

"It's no use, child." A rasping voice reached her ear before she had sight of the old woman. Joy stood in the shadows, back hunched her near-toothless mouth forming a smile. "It is your fate."

"You have seen it?" She asked with the merest hint of fear.

"There are many futures to be had but you can choose only one."

Sin turned her back on the woman, it was well known amongst the slaves that Joy was not to be trusted. Joy was a spy for them, in her youth she had been a slave serving in the House but was freed to return to the Hold, there was no other one among them who had the privilege before Joy.

"Get away you crazy old bitch." She growled.

Joy hissed. "Do not be so rash."

"I know your name." The woman cooed, hobbling toward her, using a crutch to aid her journey. "They call you Sin."

Sin shrugged her shoulders feigning nonchalance but she knew if the Maegester's knew she had a name she would be crucified.

"Dangerous to have names." Joy said laughing under her breath.

"You have one." Sin hissed.

Joy nodded and laughed, a rattling sound that unsettled Sin. "Indeed."

"What do you know of freedom?" Joy asked, reading something on Sin's features that never passed her lips.

"I dream…" Sin's words drifted into a small frown. Her dreams were vivid, flying fast toward the heavens where she met with her gods who whispered to her of thing beyond Elysion. They had revealed a world to her where her kind walked free, laughed and danced and were not threatened by beasts or barbed whips.

Approaching footsteps interrupted Joy's mirth. "We will talk in time, Sin." She said and shuffled into the darkness, disappearing between two shacks.

Holding herself, Sin turned to see her cousin approaching in the dark, she regarding his silhouette, he too had been changed by the years. Taller, built strong like an ox. He had no name, and had shied away from it when she would have chosen one for him. When all others had refused to venture with her he had clasped her hand and followed her into the night.

They had not spoken for two years.

His eyes were hazy with the Maegester's wine, his footsteps heavy and clumsy. He seized her by the shoulders, his thick fingers kneading her skin. "The moon is bright." He said fiercely.

She nodded but didn't speak, she could smell the wine on his breath the cursed gift of the House that overshadowed the Hold.

"You are lovely." He murmured, eyes glittering as they moved about her possessively.

"No, cousin." She said and detangled herself from his grip.

"Why, Sin?"

"It could get us both killed."

"You never cared for that before."

"Before was many years ago now."

He leant over her, his face leaning into her and she was suffocating on his breath. "Not so many."

She pushed him away.

"Or is there someone else?"

Her mind was irresistibly filled with the memory of the Hound with eyes as frightful as the sun, the sensation of the hot hard-soft wetness of his tongue. "Who?" She challenged, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

Her cousin looked away and she saw him tremble. He was frightened as if he knew his fate was soon to be sealed in the Choosing to come.

He grasped her, hands rough on her curves clutching at her with desperation. The desperation was infectious, needling beneath the soft tissues of her skin making her being all but seize with panic. "Let go of me." She hissed.

"Please, Sin." He whispered wretchedly. "You've never said no before."

"I'm saying it now." She hissed between her teeth. "Let go of me."

She pushed herself out of his hold, her dress tore between his hand. She turned, picking up the ragged end of her skirt to run, she headed toward the darkness, further toward the recess of the Hold toward the towering fence that made the Hold a fortress, but Sin still knew the old weaknesses.

She had to crawl toward the crack, large enough for a lithe person or a child to slither through. She pushed herself into the dew damp grass that lay at the foot of the tangled forest, clutching fistfuls of earth to pulls her body free.

She could hear cousin behind her, his large arm reaching through the crack trying to grasp her, his fingertips brushing her heel.

Freed she picked herself up to run, as if she could outrun her nightmares, the threat of her cousin's flesh and the Choosing looming before her. She forced her way through branches and bushes, tearing at her skin, pulling at her hair desperately trying to reach the shore, toward the lulling sea, to slip beneath the waters to be taken by the gods that swallowed the sun.

But it was too dark, she was turned around and lost, she had forgotten the slave paths through the wood and was disoriented by all that surrounded her. The silence, the darkness…

She saw a flash of silver between the trees. Her fears closed in on her. The Hounds were on the paths. She ran with them, for a time running with the silvery wolf figure until she tripped, fell, limited by her flesh, her fear, her human parts.

She fell in damp earth, beside a fallen tree limb, wrapping her arms around it as if it could protect herself from life itself.

The Hound burst from between two trees, a small yelp squeezed about between her lips and she couldn't pull herself to stand. She heard the panting breath, hot and heavy and living. Her eyes fluttered and closed and she slumped against the fallen branch, surrounding herself with the blackness of unconsciousness. The brief escape of any slave.

She felt the hot foul breath upon her face.

Her eyes flickered and in the briefest moment her vision filled with Verain's lovely features. She felt vulnerable. Throat quivering. She fainted into blackness.

With eyes as bright as suns Verain stared down at the prone figure he had come upon beyond the recesses of the slave hold. The slave was slender and small, but her hips and breasts swelled with the promise of womanhood. The length of her hair disguised her face, locks that looked inky black in the night.

He had never had the opportunity to be so close to a human and he took his time to study her, the way her body shuddered with breath, the way the wind raked through her hair and ruffled through her ragged dress.

His sight and smell was second to none, able to make out details obscured by the dark, able to taste her breath, the scent of her rising to meet him in the breeze. Using her hair, his fingertips tingling, he turned her head to reveal her face.

She was lovely, the spirit of defiance hovered about her lips, the quirk of Sylvia, the goddess moon and mother of Hounds, in her features. He knew her. Even in the passing of years he recognised her.

He dropped to his knee, leaning over her, pressing his nose close to sniff her, a familiar scent rose in his nostrils and a shaky breath passed his lips. He reached out to stroke the silky brown strands of her hair.

She had a magic that had commanded him to lay lips against her, to protect her…

Her mouth trembled and she looked as if she would wake, his hand hesitated before it would touch her skin.

He heard the approach of his kin and stood quickly to face the darkness.

"Look what Verain the Fair has found." A cruel voice drifted up from a half formed beastly throat. Two Hounds appeared to glance from him to the unconscious girl at his feet. The grey wolf stood next to a larger black wolf.

"A tasty little Meridianus girl." The black haired Hound shivered with laughter, his jaws parting for his tongue to loll, salivating at the prospect of fresh meat and something more that eluded Verain.

Verain growled, his lips peeled back from his teeth which were sharpening to match the wolf. "A runaway, to be taken back to its Hold." He said, with steel his voice and mustered his best glare to accompany his words. "The Maegester wants all Meridianus for the choosing."

"Always a stickler for the rules, eh boy?" The grey wolf now a half formed man laughed loudly. "But you have not yet tasted the wonders of virgin slave flesh." He licked his thin lips with a tongue too large for his mouth, his eyes not once leaving the slave.

"Do you think the Maegester would allow you to take this slave from under his nose?" Verain said quickly, stepping between the Hounds and the slave.

The black wolf growled low in challenge, his yellow eyes darting to Verain's face.

"You know what he did to Sorken." Verain said. "He'll do the same to us all or worse."

"Not you." The wolf man hissed, tongue slithering between needle sharp teeth. "He'd never harm you."

"Come." The black wolf said to the other and with a departing glare the Hounds committed to four paws and bounded into the dark tangle of forest.

Verain spun round to the slave at a loss as to what to do. More Hounds could come, he would have to conceal her, return her to her home. But he hesitated.

In the deep histories of the island it was said the blood of the goddess ran in the veins of the slaves of Meridianus, for the dark haired ones had made a home of the isle long before the Lamia prince and his celestial lover had claimed it for their own.

The goddess had always favoured Elysion, cavorting with the islanders but had found the grief of the passing too heavy to bear, for mortal lives were short for the immortals. So she ventured to the world and made a lover of the Lamia who were famed for their immortality and brought a prince to the island to rule.

Arun begot a bloodline of weak vampires, the blood watered down by the dark haired denizens that had looked to him as a god. It was years later he brought a Lamia consort to make a strong royal bloodline to rule Elysion but by then the goddess had departed from this world leaving only the remnants of ichor running in the veins of the dark haired people.

The girl murmured in her dreams and he wondered at the blood that ran through her. He felt something stir in the pit of his stomach, the delicate beating of a bird's wing and another shaky breath passed his lips.

He picked her up carefully; careful to touch only the fabric of her dress, her head fell against his shirt above his heart. She was light in his arms and the scent of her brought colour to his cheeks.

He felt compelled to sniff her, revel in the space between breast and neck and discover her secrets. He was to lay her down, tangled himself with her limbs and bathe his senses in her presence.

The compulsion frightened him but Hounds were not made for fear, the feeling transformed into a hot knot of anger and it was important that he remain as hard and cold as steel, like the Magaesters themselves. Staring straight ahead, with an angry glare he carried her toward the entrance of the slave Hold where the slave carts had already arrived to take the Chosen to their grim destinies.

The boat arrived as dawn brooked the horizon, spilling golden warmth over the Elysion coast. The torches were doused and spicy smoke mingled with the scent of the welcome flowers arranged across the dock, heliotropes, white roses and jasmine.

Lucerne waited as the prow of the ship pulled into the harbor.

His second, Domitian stood beside him, his lanky form shielding Lucerne from the brightness of the day. Domitian put a hand above his brow to better see the ship. "I can smell her from here." He said with a sneer.

Lucerne could smell it too, the sickly-sweet perfume clashing with the flowers and beneath that was the scent of the main land: iron and smoke. He would have her bathed before the end of the night. Elysion was largely untouched by the taint of the outside world; it had few modern conveniences and observed the old ways. Elysion had a long history.

His ancestor was among the first sons of the Mother Lamia, who she had named Arun, for it meant the dawn and he was born with eyes as radiant as the dawning sun. Arun parted from his mother's company and found refuge in the temple of a goddess of the east.

Anata had taken Arun as her lover and spirited him to the island of the dove, peacock and jasmine flowers which he named Elysion. Together they bore a noble line of Lamias. Pearl would have to learn this in time for she would have her place in ensuring the progression of that line. Anata's blood ran in the blood of all denizens of Elysion.

Domitian moved to help, the sailors calling to one another, throwing ropes to help secure the bobbing ship that held his new bride.

"Are you ready?" Linnea murmured in his ear.

Lucerne spared a cold glance at his sister, her disapproval plain on her face. "You will treat her with the respect due the Lady of Elysion."

"She is not your wife yet, brother." She hissed and he stepped away from her. Linnea had never relinquished her affection for his first wife, Beatrice. But Beatrice was gone, never again to step foot on Elysion soil.

Lucerne stepped forward as his bride to be's parasol emerged from the ship. Flanked either side by fair faced vampire youths they escorted the young woman to the solid earth. He could see the bulge at their hips, firearms, he had not often seen them but they were prohibited on the island.

It seemed Night Lord Marsigni , father of his bride to be, was being cautious. Pearl, being the youngest of his daughters and most beloved, would not go to the island alone without an armed escort. It was Lucerne's stipulation that she come alone.

Lucerne lifted his chin to inspect his new bride from a distance, she was radiant in her beauty thought she was still young, no more than thirteen years old. Whilst Beatrice had been calm and quiet, her beauty pale like the calm ripple of the twilight ocean, Pearl was golden, her fairness like flame despite her delicate features.

She moved elegantly toward him, her eyes turned down demurely. "It is an honour to meet you, Lord Lucerne." Her voice was soft and pleasing to his ear but that she had spoken without being spoken to, rankled him.

"Welcome to Elysion." She raised her dark blue eyes and stared brazenly at the harbor, her eyes first on Domitian who came to stand by Lucerne, then Linnea and finally Lucerne. Her cheeks blushed prettily, but there was a slyness about her that he was alerted to almost instantly.

The other Lords and Ladies of Elysion were standing on the shore watching the new Lady with cool eyes and closed lips.

"We are holding a feast in your honour, Lady Pearl but your entourage must not proceed any further."

"But-" She was the perfect picture of distress.

"You may choose an escort from among the slaves of Elysion, you will find their skills quite adequate."

She didn't flinch and there was a stubborn clench of her jaw, for a moment she looked as if she would cry.

Her eyes fell upon Verain and Lucerne followed her gaze. The young Hound stared with a grim expression. "Fine." She said and took his proffered arm both turning to face the denizens of Elysion.

The Lords and Ladies clapped at the pretty couple they presented.

Sin was dreaming. Dreaming of a wolf. Dreaming of a boy. Dreaming of a place made of emerald and black crystal. The dark gemstone world rose around her, and she was fearful of the darkness that baffled her senses.

She was propelled forward, running, a sudden wind forcing her onward, she fell on all fours but was not thwarted by her fall, she looked down at her hands to see them transformed. She had paws, brown fur disguised her skin and she was a wolf.

The wind was delicious raking through her fur, a world unfurled, sights and scents rising to greet her and the world was suddenly not so frightening.

It was liberating, the sensation of running, sliding, climbing the mysterious jewelled paths was like sweet ecstasy. She felt free.

Then her bare human feet met springy grass, her human self bursting through the wolf's disguise and she was moving in slow motion. "This is…" She spoke against the wind, her words swallowed by it.

"My mind."

She turned around, her movements sluggish as if she were moving through water.

Verain stood there, wind raking through his dark hair, his eyes glowing. He was beautiful and frightening. Her breath became shallow, her body reacting to the sight of him. "I don't understand." She said.

"Nor do I."

Her eyes slipped from his face to the black crystal where image moved across the surfaces, a whisper of something…memories. Verain's memories.

"You have to wake up now." His voice was hot right behind her ear.

Sin felt herself waking as if from a long dream. For an instant she thought she may be in the afterlife, her limbs felt weightless, surrounded by brightness until she was able to open her eyes and found herself trapped in a wooden cage.

She roused sluggishly and used the bars of the cage to lift herself to sit. Her forehead resting against the wood, the cool morning breeze brought her awake, her vision focused on the sight of her sisters lined up in four rows in the open space of the Hold.

All around there was shivering slave flesh.

The stewards' were inspecting the girls, raising their skirts and opening their blouses, parting their lips to look at their teeth and backsides. They restrained screams and indignant yelps behind carefully clamped lips.

"This one's awake." A Hound growled and sour breath invaded Sin's senses.

Sin shuffled to the far back of the cart, hands grasping the bars of the cage as the doors were thrown open and hands reached in to pull her roughly, trying to drag her out into the dirt. She struggled and this amplified the tension in the Hold. She heard the lick of the whip nearby and saw Sorken from the corner of her eye. She froze and the fight deserted her.

She was released by those grasping hands and collapsed to the dirt on hands and knees.

She saw the tips of the steward's boots in front of her eyes. "Stand." He commanded. She stood like a marionette whose strings were pulled sudden and taut. He pried her lips apart to see her teeth and then turned her face to one side to inspect her throat. "Where was this one found?"

"In the recess of the Hold." Someone spoke and it transformed her posture. "Sleeping where it ought not to sleep." It was Verain who had spoken, he came into her line of vision and her body trembled, her whole being was drawn toward him, the Hound who lounged at Hermes feet, who called bolts of lightning from his lips.

But that was a lie. She had fallen in the forest, to get away from…

"Is it disobedient?" The steward asked.

"It may require breaking." Verain conceded with a small nod and a scowl in Sin's direction.

Sin dropped her eyes, tumult stirred her flesh and brought the rhythm of her heart pounding in her tongue, she was reacting to the mere sight and sound of the Hound Verain but she didn't know why. She despised the Hounds as much as all slaves feared them.

"It seems one has already tried." The steward murmured taking in the sight of the scars on her back. The steward ripped open her dress exposing her breasts and raised her skirts to study her below. She couldn't bear the humiliation, her nudity was exposed before the entire Hold and the steward's cold sharp fingers prodding and inspecting her. "She is not new to the touch." The steward said.

Verain's eyes flicked toward her, his cheeks growing ruddy with anger.

"Do you permit slaves to couple without consent of the House?"

Verain shook his head, no.

"Tis a shame." The steward said and moved on.

A Hound grasped her arm and hauled her back and she found herself colliding with Sorken's broad chest and saw the cruel smile play on his lips. She suffered under the hot, bloody breath on her face and she knew as he knew and relished that she was going to die.

And yet she was relieved to finally have the years of shame, the memory of the Maegester from the House above taking her sister's life, erased. Tears fell silent and expressionless from her eyes and she closed them tight to surrender to Sorken's grip utterly.

"Wait." The steward called and motioned toward Sin. "We will take that one too. Our Lords and Ladies have many appetites"

Sorken growled low in his throat and threw Sin to the ground.

A steward's stick came down hard on the ground between them. "Careful, dog. We must handle the meat with care."

Sorken murmured something by way of apology.

The steward struck Sin in the face with the heel of the stick, blood filled her mouth and there were suddenly more hands on her, dragging her toward the cart. She tried to remain as inert as possible, finding no use in struggling now.

"I hope I find but the one disobedient slave. Should you find the man that spoiled her you have permission to crucify him." The steward said. "Let that be a lesson to all meat. Your flesh is ours to command, any such breach of our law and you shall be nailed to the cross or cut to pieces for our Hounds."

One Hound sniggered.

The slaves grew ever more still.

Sin was chucked into a cart already filled with girls of varying shapes and sizes, but she was too preoccupied to take time to study them. She lifted her eyes to catch sight of Verain, eager to see his expression, his eyes, his being but a Hound struck the bars and growled in warning for her to drop her eyes.

"We will take the dozen." The steward said. "To be transported with the utmost care to the villa."

Sin settled onto her bench and a hand sought hers, she looked up to find little sister smiling sadly up at her. Sin grasped her hand fiercely and cast her eyes over the other girls. Strange faces peered at her, a dark skinned women and a pale round figure, two blond girls who were marked with similar features, who Sin guessed were slaves from across Elysion.

Another half dozen girls were put in a second cart ahead.

"Sin." Little sister whispered and the Hound growled again.

Their hands reached out and fingers intertwined, glad to have company but sorry to have her sister chosen so early.

"Get moving." Sorken growled and the cart began to creak and tremble and come alive.

Updated 01/04/2012

Miss S