Zhalia

I don't know how to react. Rassimov just said that he wanted to kill me for being troublesome, which was new news to me, and this man still wanted me.

"Well," my friend, Olivia, whispered, "He can't be good if he's still asking for you. You're in for it now!" I turned back to her and gave her my coldest stare.

"Relax." I replied, crossing my arms over my chest, "I highly doubt that he will let me go. Anyway, he can't be worse than Rassimov here." I heard someone clear their throat and I knew Rassimov had heard me. I gave a small, awkward smile to Olivia and turned back to Rassimov. He had his arms crossed over his chest, like me, and he was glaring at me. I returned it with a glare of my own, but I knew I was dead.

"You are so in for it." Olivia whispered in a hushed tone. I kept my stone face while keeping my glare at him. Fear crept up my throat, making me want to whimper. He had already hurt me today. He already made me scream. I didn't want him to do it again, but I didn't show it. If I did, he'd have the satisfaction of knowing he won. And proving him right and letting him win was the last thing I wanted.

"Shut up." I whispered back in the same tone, if not, quieter, not letting the fear show in my voice.

"Please excuse me for a minute." Rassimov said,turning back to the auburn haired man. He nodded his head. For a second I thought I saw a thin circlet of silver hiden in his hair.

"Of course." He replied. Rassimov gestured for me to come over to him. Olivia sunk farther into the shadows, for Rassimov had not seen her. I hesitently came over to him. He wouldn't hurt me with someone over, would he?

I was wrong. Rassimov grapped my arm and jerked it hard. Then, still holding my arm in the same position, he kicked me in the stomach. He then kicked my feet out from under me, letting go of my arm. I felt blood start to soke my dress again, making it even worse, as I crashed to the ground. I bit my tongue to stop myself from screaming. My vision started to blur. When I could see again, all I saw was the cold, stone ground. I groaned out in pain and looked up at the ceiling. I could feel Rassimov's eyes burning into my back as I turned over, obviously displeased that I didn't scream, but was glad to see that my blood started to decorate the ground again.

If I ever had any doubt that Rassimov didn't wish me dead, a horrible, torturous death that is, it faded that second. He hated my guts.

Dante

I gasped as the midnight blue haired slave started to bleed on the floor. She groaned out in pain, but managed to contain her scream in. I was shocked by her ability to stand up to her own master, something not found in many slaves. She just stood up to her master and said that Rassimov was horrible. She was brave, just if I left her in this state, she would most likely die. It's a miracle she lived this long.

Suddenly, a girl with brown hair simular to Carter's and in a simular dress to the blue haired girl ran out of the shadows. Her dress was green and, well, wasn't covered in blood. She knelt next to the midnight blue haired girl.

"Alright." She said, helping the other girl sit up, "Up you go." Rassimov stood with his arm crossed, smirking in amusment at them.

"I'm okay, Olivia." The midnight blue haired girls said, "I'm okay." Olivia eyed her friend worriedly, but didn't leave her side.

"Are you sure?" She asked. The blue haired girl nodded, so sure of herself, but when tried to get up, she crashed to the ground. Rassimov smiled at them. Olivia knelt on the ground again and made her friend lean on her. She helped her retreat to the shadows.

I didn't think it was possible to be even more angry with the Slave Trade than I was, but watching Rassimov abuse his slave right before my eyes made the anger inside of me boil like hot lava.

"How much for her?" I asked, trying to contain my shock. Then, I got an idea that might convince him to this. "And, as a bonus for you, I could tame her down for you." That wasn't a lie. I would tame her down, if needed, just not the way he might be thinkjng of.

I glanced back at the slave. She was glaring at me hard, scaring me alittle. Even with the blood dripping from her dress, she was scary.

Zhalia

Great. Just perfect. I knew what he was thinking. If Rassimov hands me over to him, he might make Rassimov look like the fairy godmother. You know, from that story I've heard about. The one about the girl who needs help and that fairy comes and helps her. Cinder-something.

"Uh oh." Olivia said, "You are so dead! Considering your state, he might kill you within the first day." She's told me all the stories about slave owners "taming" down their spit fire slaves like me, and might I say, it's not good. For the slave, I mean.

"And then," I continued, sick of listening to Olivia rant, "Rassimov turns his attention to you when the man brings back my beaten corpse. And you get tortured with a dagger for the rest of your days, before joining me in death. And might I say, your days will be numbered." That escalated quickly. But it did the trick. I turned and looked back at Olivia. She knew what happened to me, but the realization of what I actually go threw everyday was now dawning on her. I turned away again. Olivia kept quiet. I watched Rassimov and the man continue to talk, but I could feel the tension in the air. If it didn't end soon, a fight would break out.

"Nice image you've given me." Olivia muttered. Then, a little louder, she said, "You do not understand how scared I would be if I saw someone walk in her with your beaten, broken, bloodied, dead body, and dump you on the ground. Then, walk away. And yes, I've empathize that, because I know with your stubbornness, that would happen. You don't give up." She paused and took in a deep breath. "I would have to watch Rassimov burn your body, smirking at how you are finally dead. I would not be able to take it." Olivia's voice broke. I instantly felt bad for bring that up. Olivia was my best friend and she loved me. I loved her too, I just couldn't show it without Rassimov turning to her. He could hurt her.

"Rassimov thinks I should not be around you anymore." Olivia cried. I froze. I knew Rassimov was cruel, but I didn't think he would make my best friend turn against me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, turning back to face her. Tears were streaming down her face. I reached over and squeezed her arm before pulling away again. She advoided eye contact with me.

"Rassimov was talking about selling me again." She admitted, breaking into a crying fit, "I was not alowed to tell you that." Even though I couldn't see my face, I knew my stone face had melted. Selling Olivia? No, he couldn't. She was the most perfect slave you could get. She always listened, did what she was told, and never tried to escape from the power of those above her. If Rassimov wanted to sell anyone, he should sell me. I'm the opposite of her.

"He marked you." I gasped, realizing that this was impossible. "Did he not?" Olivia nodded and made my mind spin 5 thousand times a second. You couldn't sell a marked slave. Everyone knew the rules. No one sold marked slaves, that's how it went.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I tensed and turned around. The auburn haired man had come up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. He touched me. No one ever touched me, unless it was Rassimov, his guards bringing me forcefully to him, or Olivia. No one touched me of their free will. I was a slave, and that was enough for people not to touch me. Even other slaves wouldn't go near me. I was Rassimov's play thing and that was it. Olivia was an exception, but it came with a price. She had no other friends. I had to stop myself from hitting him. Rassimov was here and he could do something to me. I didn't want to know what.

"We are to leave now." He said. I froze again. I hated being here, but still, it was the only home I had ever know. I didn't remember much about my first home. My memories of that place were replace by this place.

"Come." He said, "We are to go." I glanced back at Olivia before looking back at the man. I became very good at telling what people radiated, he radiated something different than Rassimov. I just couldn't tell what.

"Come." He said again and took a few steps back. I hesitently stepped forward. One, two, three steps, before stopping again. Rassimov saw I was listening and left. Knowing he was going to get what he wanted.

"Come." He wasn't mad at me, at least, he didn't sound like it. He was patient. If this had been Rassimov, I probably would have been beaten unconscious right now. But he wasn't mad at me.

Then, in a lower voice, he added, "I will not hurt you. Come, we must leave. It is dark and I do not have a torch." He walked a few steps and beckoned for me to follow. I followed, but I didn't trust his words. Not hurting me. That's some sort of a joke. I know it is.

He gave me a smile and started walking away. I took one more glance back at Olivia, giving her a small smile, and ran to catch up. I felt Olivia's sad eyes following me, as if she was already planning on me coming back dead.

We walked out the front gates. I considered trying to run away, but there was no doubt that he would catch up to me and I'd probably be beaten. And I didn't want that. Whatever chance I had with him not beating me tonight, I would take. I needed to rest.

It was indeed getting dark, but the sun had not fully gone down, making the sky have splashes of pink, red, and orange. Looking over, I saw the moon rising in the distance. I've always loved the moon.

I tugged at the side of my partly blood dried dress. I didn't trust this man, like everyone else in my life. Everyone but Olivia, that is. Then, the auburn haired man turned to me, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"Perhaps I shold get something out of the way." He said. I braced myself you what he was about to say. Probably what he was going to do to "tame" me down. I'm a human. Not an animal. "I disprove of the slave trade." My heart stopped. Lier. I thought, he was lying. He had to be. If he disproved of the slave trade, than what the heck was that whole thing for? He smiled at me, obviously seeing my confusion.

"My name is Dante." He said, "What might your name be?" I bit my lip. I wish he'd just drop the act. Just get straight to the point. I hated suspense. It was often used against me.

"I don't..." I started, but changed my mind, "Um, you dislike the slave trade?" Shut your mouth, Zhalia! Don't ask questions. I glanced over at the rising moon again.

"That is correct." Dante stated, continuing with the act of being patient with me, "But I am guessing you do not believe that." I kept silent, not wanting to test him. Dante sighed. "I would not trust someone like me if I heard those words and had been treated unfairly my whole life. But you can trust me. I am to know your name, though."

"I'm Zhalia Moon." I said quickly. If I couldn't speak much today, spare me the trouble. For now, at least. I just couldn't afford it. Not today. Not with everything Rassimov did. Dante smiled at me again.

"Greetings, Zhalia Moon." He said, trying to be as warm and welcoming as possible. "Now, if it is not to much trouble, it would be nice to leave now." I nodded, but before I could I could take a step, I heard someone call my name. I turned to see and out of breath Olivia running towards me.

"He's alowed me to say goodbye." She said, stopping next to me. Then, she leaned over and gave me a hug. Now, I hate physical contact. Absolutely dispise it. But the idea of me never seeing her again alowed me too let her do this one last time. I hugged her back.

"Bye, Livvy." I said, pulling away, glancing over at Dante. He was smiling warmly, not mad at all.

"Here, Zhalia." Olivia said, thrusting a package made of cloth and string into my hands. "I made this for you, for your birthday. But, I do not think I will see you then." I went to pull the string, but Olivia stopped me.

"Not here." Olivia said, stopping my hand, "He can not find out." I nodded and gave her a small smile. She smiled back and ran back threw the front gates.

I watched her leave. As a slave, I never alowed myself to have friends. Rassimv could very easily use them to hurt me, but Olivia had been an exception. I loved her to death. Now, I might not ever see her again.

Dante reached out and touched my arm, as to get my attention. My body reacted, I didn't even think about it. It just did it. I punched him the arm and I jerked my body away from him. Any other person, other than Olivia, touching me made me jump.

Dante pulled away from me quickly and rubbed his forming bruise. I covered my mouth and looked down at the grund. I braced myself for some sort of punishment, but it never came. Instead, I heard laughing.

"One," Dante started, continuing to laugh, "Rassimov said you were troublesome, hu? I reckon you might just be jumpy and afraid. Two, punch really hard for a girl. Better than some men I have seen. You might just be the first female soldier." I didn't look up, but instead hugged Olivia's gift to my chest. I was afraid that this whole nice act was just that. An act. I was sure he would be just like Rassimov.

"We must be going." Dante said. I nodded and he led me to the place I would be staying for the next two months. I was positive they would be the worst two months of my life, which is saying alot. In fact, I was already ready to return to Rassimov's house, not wanting Dante to tame me down. Wouldn't that be the be ay when somethjng I want actually happened.

Hey! I'm back!

This chapter is dedicated to Maryamdxz, for pestering me to no end about updating. Thanks, my good friend. You have your chapter.

Thanks everyone for reading this story and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Somethings will be revealed later on, like marking a slave and taming.

Anyway. *smile* say awesome!

With all Huntik and awesomeness,

-Carter Casterwill