She serves
-o0O0o-
The Coxmendi-Empire is on the brink of a civil war. Sometimes the mere pressence of a person willl change history.
-o0O0o-
"Please step back from the window, my princess," Tonja flinched and did as told. She didn't hear Sheela coming in. Which was the whole point, but it still was annoying when getting caught in something you shouldn't do. Tonja crawled in her bedding, and watched as the strict faced woman closed the veils, and then stroked the fire in the chimney so she would stay warm yet save overnight. Then she moved forward and began the hair treatment for the night.
She was intelligent. So different from every other servant Tonja ever owned. Not because of the still unbroken spark in her eyes or her articulation, but for the fact that she kept silent. She was never a hair out of line, and it was infuriating. Slaves made mistakes, everybody did. Except her.
Before, she would needle her, play with her by changing orders midways or accusing her of mistakes she never did just to get a raise, to see that dignity broken. She took everything in stride, even the worse punishments.
Now, she was everything the princes had left. And somewhere along that line she had become a person, a she, not an it.
Tonja glanced at the short stands on the woman's head, so different from her own lush hair and chewed on her lips before finally blurred out. "How do you do it?"
"I beg your pardon, your majesty?"
"Keeping your dignity. I know you're a princess, too. Have been."
"I am just a humble servant willing to fulfill your wishes."
"Stop it. Please. I- I know one shall never ask a slave for their former life. I know it hurts, but I -I-"she helplessly gestured to the window. The torches from the revolting masses were still visible. Sheela's eyes followed her movement but she stayed silent.
"Answer me," Tonja demanded.
The woman bowed her head, just a fraction. "The wisdom to know when to give in or to persist. Which you will not need for a long time, my princess."
"They're going to tear the gates apart every second."
"They won't. They respect your father too much to raid his palace. You are save."
"I-"
"You are safe," Sheela repeated and started to braid her long hair for the night.
And for a little while Tonja nearly believed her.
-o0O0o-
The human looking endity known on this planet as Sheela was very well broken.
Service never equaled submission. Sometimes it could be a part of it, but never a given. True service is only reached by focusing on the individual strengths and allowing them to outweigh the weaknesses.
She was used to submit from the fist moments she realized her gifts. Head bowed shoulders square, average. The middle, any extremes would be noticed.
A good pilot with the most minimal knowledge of technical details.
An excellent teacher with no own children.
The head of one of the most respected Houses amongst the Drome and yet, a seer.
An eight-year-old who stared into the untampered scysm, the abyss of all of time and space, and not only got inspired, but stepped forward in curiosity, reaching out for this ineffable beauty with her hand and had to be yanked back to not get lost. It took eighty years to pull her back in to one timeline, nevertheless. And two hundredth more to control it.
The standard definition of a Seer was simply that they were able to look closer, see more details in the timelines surrounding everything than the average G…. member of that species. Nobody spoke about the sheer power of manipulation the flawless switching between timelines provided, enough to drive anybody mad.
A Time Lord steered the streams of a timeline with a boat, a Gallifreyan Seer was its riverbed.
They rarely survived the three hundred years of their first regeneration cursed to madness and always hidden away, a bastardisazion tainting the noble blood of the Time Lords.
She did not know her age, the time-war had seen to that, but she knew, she was in her seventh.
The rigorous training her Birthhouse and cousins submitted her, had seen to that. There was nothing the slavers of the Coxmendi-Empire could do to her she has not been exposed to, before.
What the House of Evermorning hadn't taken was destroyed in the Time War and the devastation of House Beningmeer.
The Doctor and all those incredible humans and humanoids keeping his company- the guardians bless their souls- had seen the dust, her personality had been grinded to, and tried to meld it into something new, with a little bit less than mediocre success.
She had been something to fix.
Here, in the slave quarters, her head shorn and collared like an animal to the walls, it was seen as beauty, as strength.
Her raw will to survive even with the cost of losing herself, a quality worth striving for. Her demureness and wielding of the adequate, a role model.
It was a sickening mirror of her existence.
And every night she thanked the Guardians for the Sontarans devasting the ocean and isles of Dandelecan IV into the field of molten glass and lava, taking her and all those lovely brave children of the seas away to be sold and finally have physical evidence of the chains that reigned her in.
When they break, and they will, the only thing she would serve is Time itself.
The teacup in her hand switched from finest erlegano-pottery to blue tinted quarzware and back.
True service is only reached by focusing on the individual strengths and allowing them to outweigh the weaknesses, after all. She risen above hers, when Kelliox traped her in that watch.
-o0O0o-
The Holo-feed switched off and Myrkji growled while polishing another spoon. "I was watching that."
"We hear his screaming all day, forgive me if I wish at least for a calm night."
Sheela rummaged through the tea cabinet before pulling out the Emperors personal favorite bone-porcelain.
"Maybe I want to know what he says?"
Sheela poured a cup and settled in the warm corner near the oven.
Luocios threw her an irritated glare but the old Butler said nothing. It wasn't the first time and certainly not the last time either. The emperor didn't mind, Sheela's head hadn't been shaved for weeks. Then again, the Taster had left months ago, and he valued the dedication to his emperor. Especially in these times.
"He's repeating the same rhetoric for months now. Slaves of the empire unite and overthrow the system."
"A rhetoric that gets heard. Marley and Atteilam left, too."
"They're just spineless cowards, afraid of the possible mob raiding the palace," Luocios sulked.
Sheela stared into her cup. "It is wrong. There is no rebellion, their culture is supposed to evolve so they leave slavery peacefully behind. Not this Kryllis- character stirring up a civil war. He should not exist."
"The Coxmendi-Empire. Leaving Slavery peacefully behind," Myrkji clacked her mandibles unbelievingly. "I'm going to have tea with a Time Lord before that happens."
Sheela snorted, and Luocios shook his head. "Your mind is a truly astounding place I'll never want to see. Speaking of tea, that one should be delivered, not drunken by now."
Sheela emptied her cup in one go and dutifully cleaned the dish before preparing a new pot. "Tonight's still on?"
Myrkji clicked affirmative. "Finished my practice, can't wait to read it to you."
"As long as you haven't memorized it like the last chapter. Luocios?"
"I will listen. No shisame. "
At least one of them had to stay sober.
Sheela nodded to him and threw her friend a wink. Then, she combed through her hair in the mirror and left the kitchen. It already reached her ears, just a few months more and she would be free. Luocios needed to speak to the overseer.
There was a rebellion, yes, but they shouldn't lose tradition over it. Nor any slaves because they were too distracted to hand out the yearly haircuts. They slacked down enought in the last months, years even.
The system must persist at all costs, or the empire would die in flames. Luocios knew his place.
-o0O0o-
The soft knock pulled Tishjan out of his thoughts. "Enter."
His eyes wandered to the chronometer, when Sheela appeared with the tea-tray. "Humblest apologies, the safety measurements take too long to keep it hot. I hope the temperature is still to his majesty's liking."
He merely gestured, and it started to pour him a cup.
He watched it carefully. "I've heard, we're down to five now. From sixty-eight."
"Yes your majesty."
He stirred his tea and took a slow sip, savoring the flavor.
"What makes him so appealing."
"I would not know, my emperor."
"Surely you do have an opinion. Share it, you're allowed to."
"It is not appropriate, your majesty."
He rolled his eyes. "What in these times is still appropriate, Sheela?"
The Human took a moment, undoubtly puzzled about the fact that he knew it's name, but then started to speak silently.
"He tells the truth the people see in their every day life. You do not enslave a species or a specific group, the status of a person is completely randomly decided if they are captured and prisoners of war, sold to their owners or not. Members of the same species walk the streets, one a well-respected merchant the other shaved and raped of all their rights and degraded to an object. There is no rhyme or reason behind it, and the randomness nurtures the fear that anyone can suddenly become a slave no matter how well respected as they are. And even while your culture started out this practice hunting specific group and species, nowadays, there is no difference or definition between those enslaved and those not. Not anymore."
"And he speaks to that fear and utilizes it against us."
His beloved Tonja was convinced this slave was of noble blood. He could see why, it was quick and well spoken, and it's eyes were bright and intelligent, even if they were cast to the floor as expected. He had suspected from the moment five years ago the auctioneers had paraded it though the throne room. It didn't give him any clues to it's origin. Humanity was spread out all over the Universe in countless Nations.
"Why are you still here."
"It is my duty, my emperor."
"Just like that? You were taken from your home, forcefully. You were degraded into an object, to use your own words. Yet, you continue to serve, because it's your duty."
"As it is yours, your majesty."
Tishjan froze, then narrowed his eyes. "Oh?"
"Your people," Sheela clarified. "Isn't it the highest duty of a ruler?"
Insolent little...
He chuckled uncomfortably. "I'm a slave to my empire. Very well. Dismissed."
Sheela turned, bowed and closed the door behind it.
Royalty indeed. Highly educated in philosophy at least. With way too long hair.
He smashed his cup into the chimney and placed his hands on the board to calm down, starring into the fire and watching it burn just like his life.
There was a forgotten draft in the bottom of his drawer, one he started as a prince but never finished once he realized after his coronation what impact and economic force slavery still had. Yet, his daughter didn't feel save in her own home anymore.
And he wouldn't dare to picture her like Sheela, humiliated and shaved, trying to avoid punishment with the hope of getting her hair grown long enough to be free and never accomplishing it, standing there with that exhausted dignity before a master, not able to express her brilliant beautiful mind.
And yet, the impact of banning slavery would break and destroy everything his ancestors had built, take away any sense from every sacrifice he made.
A slave to his empire, indeed.
The next day he found her in the gardens and sunk down next to Sheela on the bench it sat. The Human immiedately rose and returned to its appropriate distance, but greeted him without taking it's eyes from Tonja.
Good.
Side by side they watched the princess elegantly moving through the required steps of her execise, book in her hand, deeply concentrated on her tasks, her instructor mercilessly criticizing every mistake.
"It's the curse of our bloodline," He finally offered.
"My emperor?"
"There's a draft in the bottom of my drawer. One I started as a prince, like my father before me and Tonja probably already has as well. And like me she'll abandon it once she's queen."
"Neither you nor your father felt endangered in their own palace."
Bold. Uncaracteristically so. He... liked it. Seeing it's... her intelegence finally mirrowed in her words. And yet he sraightened himself dismissive.
"It's not he first riot and won't be the last either."
The words tasted like ashes in his mouth. Sheela said nothing, simply stared ahead.
And that was worse.
"What do you gain from all of this. Staying here while everyone else leaves," he asked after a long silence. "And don't pretend not to understand. We both know you do."
"You are one of the most benevolent owners. If a life in bondage, then at least a good one."
That was unexpected. "Don't humans rather, what was it, die standing than live on their knees?"
"Humans are able to use death as an escape."
"You are not human."
"I'm not even a person right now."
This perfect passive aggressiveness was perfected by any noble part of his court. For anyone else she was perfectly obedient and demure. Hw many times did he miss an answer like this? Did he never noticed it before, so used to it. Or did she noticed his slowly growing fondness of her. Intruiging, as always.
But if she wasn't human, what was she?
His eves roamed over her, the simple robe, her soft fleshy body, slim yet strong. "You were sold as one."
"The similar outer appearance is nothing but an evolutionary fluke."
"One you never corrected."
"It makes no difference."
"I think it's the differnce between you staying and leaving."
"No, my emperor, it's just an coincidence."
Absolute coincidence huh?
And yet, she spoke up for herself for a second time wihtin a few minutes in a way she never had before. Because he spoke to her, allowed it. And yet, she stayed. He had expecded her to leave after yesterday, she undoubtly knew how much she angerd him, even if he asked for her opinion.
Did she plan for his mercy?
But then, she always had taken her punishment in demure acceptance. Even the one she didn't deseve, dished out by his beloved daughter in sadistic pleasure.
If a life in bondage, then at least a good one.
His thougts wandered back to the draft in his drawer. To Luocios, long freed but still loyal nonetheless. Or perhabs... because? Sheela, staying by his daughters side, despite her terrible treatment of the human-ish.. humanuoid?- because Tonja still respected her and was respected in return.
Respect giving rise to Loyality.
Dominace causing nothing but rebellion.
He knew this. Had been for a while, but there was nothing he could-
could he?
Coincidence?
Coincidence.
"Randomization, that's it. You're a genius."
He kissed her and run off, completely ignoring her yelp.
Randomization.
Every five years every slave holder had to release a fifth of their stock, randomly selected in a lottery. Of course, there had to be regulations for the small families owning fewer than five, but that was the key. He didn't care to slow his sprint to preserve his dignity while hasting to his office, already dictating his ideas into his AI mid-walk.
Thirteen hours later with the first rays of the sun he stepped out of his palace onto the square before it, the first emperor in 1500 Years to do it, standing before the crowd of frightening and frightened people.
"We, Our Grace Tishjan Astena Allector of the Coxmendi-Empire, Ruler of Galaxies, conqueror of stars, one in mind and heart have decided to abolish-"
Only two days later the whole speech was heard because the screeching and screams of joy following those words overruled any attempt at speaking or being heard.
This was the sound of the explosion that turned worlds upside down.
-o0O0o-
Myrkji wordlessly presented the tea tray with her head bowed, to hide her triumph.
It had taken her nearly an hour to reach the small alcove on the second floor with the mysterious stranger that you forgot the moment you turned your eyes of her.
Everybody always ridiculed her for her believe in something as bizarre as the Time Lords, and yet there was one just out of sight attentively watching over the celebrations of the final release, twenty-five years after the emperor abolished slavery and introduced his five wave plan.
Or she hoped, because otherwise this could turn messy really quick.
Not that she knew if they were friendly or not. But it was bad luck to see one and not greet them with an offer. Surely, they would have left the moment they saw her coming in her direction and wished for no interaction. She pushed the thoughts down; it was too late for that.
The other had already reached out and started to prepare a cup for herself with practiced, swift movements.
"You are not a slave anymore," their voice was smooth, absentminded.
"But still a servant." And wasn't that proof enough?
They hummed thoughtful, and only then Myrkji saw the cup they had prepared for her.
For her? She carefully took the fine cup and lensed up, but they were already facing away, sipping their tea, and staring down to the crowd again.
Food was the only gift you were never to reject from a Time Lord in the legends. Everything else they took with insult, that with wrath. Cruel amusement on their prart, for there were rules for eating any other species knew.
"They say it was him, but that's not true," she offered, and took the others silence to continue. "It was Sheela."
"Sheela," the Time Lord inquired without changing their tone or looking up.
"A slave at the palace. He loved her, they had a horrid affair and he couldn't bear the thought of his her being a slave."
"As much as you love gossip, that is a downright lie, Myrkji."
Oops. "That's what people say, yes, but I know better. Of course, they didn't. But those aristocrats and slave holders can't believe that the Emperor would come to a decision on his own. So, they blame it on her. She was a nice girl, and she influenced him somehow but…. I have no idea. I just want her to be remembered, I guess."
Again, no reaction, so she traced the rim of her cup, a habit she had picked up from Sheela.
Something the Time Lord did, too, interestingly.
"I don't know. Can you influence somebody by just being there?"
"That is the whole problem, yes."
"Huh," she leant forward in surprise, eager to catch a clearer reaction and – she knew that face.
The affluent clothing and that opulent hairdo had put her off but that nose and those eyes were unmistakable.
Oh.
Oh!
"You said, Kryllis shouldn't even exist," Myrkji was surprisingly good in concealing her dry throat. "What happened?"
"Sonterans in vaded my home and created another timeline."
"Sontarans invaded Gallifrey?"
Sheela chuckled, and for the first time Myrkij recognized her friend. "Gallifrey is nothing but stardust for the last two thousand years."
Wait, Time Lords weren't supposed to know that. Which meant, she survived it. Now that was interesting. "Sorry."
Sheela nodded grace fully, then took another sip. "Dandelecan IV was completely destroyed. I had no other choice to follow, yet no intentions to stay, but my mere presence caused Kryllis to radicalize. I clean up my messes."
"So you suggested to Emperor Tishjan to abolish slavery peacefully, before an actual civil war broke out."
"I did not suggest anything to him. Sometimes the brain just works that way."
"You're sure?"
"I am perfectly able to control when I manipulate a being, yes deary." Then more benevolent: "Sometimes its just… Time."
"Sorry?"
"They merely forgot him and choose to remember what mattered most for them. I have always been here."
"That's terrifying."
"It's time." She smiled.
"So everything, all the last thirty years, the changes, the liberation, are just a coincidence based on a misconception?"
"Well, I did choose to stay."
Myrkji understood why so many choose to ignore the existence of the Time Lords, creatures able to say something like that in well meaning while being able to shatter your reality with one choice.
Shela noticed her uneasy clicking "It's a stable loop. I will never choose anything else. I value time too much for that. And the learning experience."
Right. "Learning experience?"
"A lesson in humility and servitude."
Myrkji gawked a moment, then filled her cup a second time wishing for something stronger. Just to find shisame tea in it. Right. All right. She drowned the cup in one go, her hands shaking, the alcohol bittersweet on her tongue. Sheela caught them in her black gloved ones and for the first time this evening she locked eyes. Just like she had done so many times during her panic attacks, during her distress after the monthly shaving. "Myrkji? Myrkji. It is all right. I was tactless. It is alright."
"I- I…"
"Of course," she whispered. "Of course."
But instead of instructing and then breathing with her like she always did before, the Time Lord cupped her cheek. "You should keep away from us if you can't handle the consequences."
"I know, I-"
"Remember that please, always."
Myrkji blinked and clicked her mandibles angrily over how out of beath she was from merely climbing up the stairs.
Her new work in the registration of the space center after she was released ten years ago turned her soft. And maybe her age, too.
It was out of respect for the emperor, no for Her, she had taken up the royal colours once more for a night.
She found a beautiful spot, easily hidden yet everything down there fully visible and placed her tea tray down. Twenty-five years ago, this would have been an death sentence. Now she probably will have to pay the tea if she gets caught. Still, old habits die hard.
She placed two cups before her, remembering the warmth of nights were the slaves of their room hurled together, sharing one stolen cup and listening to a soft voice speaking off duty and hope. Sheela had never conjured up dreams of freedom, and yet she encouraged many to live and move on, to see this.
Yet she was the only one of the old staff not hindered by age not to witness this.
Somewhere down in the crowd Myrkji noticed a flutter of black fabric an immediately adverted her eyes.
Of course, they were here. She clicked her mandibles.
The others might ridicule her for her believe in something as bizarre as the Time Lords, but she was fairly sure she just saw one gliding to the buffet.
And as deeply as she wanted, she stayed where she was.
Only fools approach a Time Lord without knowing their intentions, especially if they wanted to stay hidden like this one.
And yet, the knowledge alone made her smile, this was history worth enough for them to show up.
She filled the cups and clinked hers to the sole one. "To the real liberator of the Coxmendi-Empire. May there always be somebody who whispers your name."
-o0O0o-
Emperor Tishjan's praises are sung for ages, a hero, a figure in the stars.
Literally.
They named a whole constellation after him in memory of his services.
Curiously, the brightest star, symbolizing his crown on the top of his head, was a planet-less system, free to name because it had no inhabitants.
Only the scholars of the empire and some old aristocratic lines could tell you its actual name, for anyone else its simply the crown. Because who remembers the name of a slave.
When thousand years later the most honorable Time Lord Lady Storyteller visited the capital, nobody was able to explain her bitter amusement- not laughter, definetly not laughter- at the story.
AN: I think everybody who read that chapter knows why it's late.
Tella was always meant to go trough that. If you look closely you will find the hints to the sonteans coming closer to Dandelecan every time we are on that planet.
I understand I will lose followers, as I 've been not able to handle this chapter as I wanted it to be. It's not nearly as brutal or even degrading as the reality of slavery because the system in this empire is basicaly broken at that point.
I also admitt that I'm terrifyngly and shamefully uneducated on the topic, something I currently change and invite anyody to do so, too. Here in Germany we spent three years going over WW2 and its causes, out of the seven years we are taught history in school, which is extrmely important, yes. Yet, our short and bloody colonization period and the role we played in other country's one is mentioned at best, if you have a passionate teacher.
I thank eveyone who still follows and left favorites.
The answer to everything in the amazing review left by The Duke is simply Yes. Yes. Yes. Why are you on anon. Please if you can, feel invited to hit me up in my DM ;)
Stay save.
Black lives matter.
Greetings,
Alkatie
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