AN: Just quick thankies to: white-silver, Amanda Swiftgold, SteelSoul, Jessikalyn, and Shiznit for reviewing! ^_^

Chapter Two
Slavery

I was born in Serdio, in the town of Niere. It was positioned close to the mountains, so the soil was rich and flowers were always blooming. We were isolated as we were, Winglies having never looked in our little corner of the world. We were also naive, thinking that they never would.

My parents were wonderful, loving people. My father's name was Veric, and he had the most kind eyes. They were a deep red, and they seemed to smile every time he looked at either my mother or me. His hair was cut short, but it too, was a flaming red. He was gentle and kind, and told the most hilarious stories to me at bedtime. He loved to make things, and was always making me new toys, or paintings and statues. Each year at the Spring Festival my father would make a crown of flowers for my mother, Aranel, and she would dance in the opening ceremony.

My mother was the most graceful dancer I ever knew, and I longed to be like her. She had bright golden hair, and eyes as blue as the sea. Her voice was like a song-bird's to me, for she was always singing or humming to herself. In the summer she and I would go out into the flower fields, and she would teach me to dance. I never thought of it as learning anything, this was our time, our time to live. Each step was ingrained in my memory, but it was never with precision that I learned them. I never forced the lessons into my mind. Because I knew my mother would love me no matter what kind of dancer I was. It was in these years that I truly knew freedom. In the year of my seventh birthday, however, freedom became nothing more than a memory.

The Winglies had finally found our little haven, tucked into the corner of the mountain range. I was returning from the well with water when the attack happened. Overhead, Winglies flew and cast down magic upon my hometown. The whole of Niere was in flames, the people were screaming. I dropped my water and ran, frantically searching for my parents. On the way to my house, I passed a Wingly as he cruelly grabbed an elderly man and threw him against the wall of his own home. I wanted to scream, to run and help him. But it would be a long time before I would have the power to do anything. The Wingly must have sensed I was watching, because he turned and grinned maliciously at me. I turned away with tears in my eyes as he killed the man, leaving his lifeless form to bleed into the earth.

When I had reached my house, it was demolished. Nothing remained but a pile of wood, already on flames. My parents were nowhere in sight. I panicked, and ran to the only place where I felt safe. The flowerfields. I had decided that if I were to die, I wanted to die in a place with happy memories, for the ones I had forged in Niere were now tainted with blood and death. It was strange for me then, thinking about death. I was only seven after all. But that incident was horrifying for me, and the only thoughts that entered my mind reaked to high heaven of it.

But when I reached the flowerfields, death was already on the air. And I could hear someone crying in the distance. Horrified, I recognized the voice as my mother's, and I ran forward to help her. When I found her, she was kneeling by my father's body, his eyes were blank and lifeless. His lips formed no loving smile, nor did his voice ring out in laughter. He was dead, and as I was pulled into my mother's sobbing frame, her arms wrapping around my tiny body in quiet sorrow, I cried.

Before I knew it, I was being torn from my mother's arms. The force behind me laughed as I cried out to her, and I was turned around to face the destruction of my town. The entire place was levelled to the ground, and I was made to watch through teary eyes as the Winglies summoned earth magic to bury it. I've never known such hatred as I felt then.

My mother and I were forced to join other children and their mothers in a large cage. I didn't notice it then, I was too much in shock from the terror of the raid to notice much anyways, but all of them were from my village. The Winglies had methodically... killed most of the men and all of the elders in the village. I learned later that some had escaped in time, but we were too isolated from anywhere to ask for help. They, the Winglies, thought that if the men, if my father, were put out of the picture, then we would submit to rule easier without their protection. In a way, they were right.

The women and children cowered before them. Some were beaten, and we were constantly reminded that we had brought this upon ourselves for denying Wingly rule. Eventually, we were taken to Zenebatos, the Law City, and there we waited for judgement. We were denied a sentencing from the heartless Genomes that ran around the place, to this day I have no idea what would have been better for us. We were taken directly to the Wingly Court, and there the judge pronounced our sentence, his eyes hard as he glared at our huddled group.

"For denying the rightful Wingly rule, and ignoring the rules thereof, you are all bound by slavery, to work and live under Wingy eyes, that you may learn the wrongs of your ways."

I openly gawked at the man. Beside me, my mother broke down and wept. Slavery? I had thought the word was just that: a word, meant for use in faerie tales and horror stories. The concept was foreign to me, because it meant denying everything that I was brought up with. We waited in various stages of acceptance. Some were in denial, some in prayer, others were like me: silent. Later, we were divided up. My mother and I were sent with the group headed for Aglis. We were never told how long our punishment was for, but it was obvious to me at least that the Wingly rule was meant to be indefinate. As long as they ruled, I would be a slave.

Aglis, the Magic City. Before now, I had never known the place had ever existed. Zenebatos was my first time in a Wingly city, and so far my experience with them thus far was nothing short of traumatic. I sat in our cramped cage, dreading my first sight of our prison. But as we neared, I was taken aback. Aglis, in the glimmering moonlight and the glow of the Wingly city itself, cast upon itself a dreamy feeling. Towers floated seperately from the main city, some hovering at different elevations, some connected by pathways and transport orbs, some not. A few were completely isolated, and I wondered what made them so special as to have this security. Everything was such a stark contrast to the cold brick walls of Zenebatos, that I thought for moment that perhaps our sentence would not be that bad.

"Come here, slave."

I was wrong.

I winced as a pale hand reached into the cage and grasped a handful of my red locks. I was yanked out of the cage, my mother followed and not given much better treatment than I. She hadn't said a word, I noticed, since it all started. The last words I heard from my mother were: 'Be a dear, Shirley. Run and get the water so I can make your father some stew. Later, we'll make icecream.' I didn't want those to be the last words she spoke to me, even if they were the last ones she would utter in a time of peace for us.

She cried out as the Wingly thrust her against the smooth stone walls; but still she held her tongue. The Wingly in charge made no show of pity or remorse or any other humanizing emotion I could recognize. All I saw was hatred, contempt, anger. It mirrored what I felt towards him at that very moment. His stark white hair was pure, clean. I wanted to dirty it with his blood.

"Line up against the wall. The researchers will be here shortly."

Researchers. Researchers?! My eyes bulged out of my head. I glanced at my mother, but her face was hard and unreadable. I had seen something similar to it during the Spring Festival, when they held the competition for dancing. My father used to tease her about her 'game face'. I nearly choked at the thought of my father. What did they do with his body? I realized I didn't want to know.

My thoughts were interrupted when nine Winglies floated down before us. I had surmissed from their apparel and critical eyes, that these were the researchers we were waiting for. The Wingly who brought us here swept an arm out to us, as if showing his wares at market. I fidgeted nervously.

"These were recently captured for denying Wingly rule." He declared. "They've been assigned slavery as punishment. Do with them as you will." He made a signal to the other Winglies who came with us, and they flew off in a hurry, leaving us with the researchers.

One of them, an assessing, curious looking man, stepped forth. He walked up and down our shaking row of slaves. I counted as he did. One, two, three...there were twenty of us. All of us were paired mothers and children. This new information was chilling. What were they planning?

"Look up child." His light voice snapped my attention back and I stared up at him. We stared at eachother for a moment. I fidgeted, struggling to not look away. His eyes, I noticed, were a gleaming silver that unnerved me, though I saw no hatred in them. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity for me, he broke the stare and nodded approvingly at the other researchers. "They will do fine."

"I don't think that's fair Savan," one of the Winglies chided. I was shocked. Was there a tinge of merriment in that voice? "You chose first, and therefore received prime subjects. How am I to get any work done with only secondary workers?" The Wingly who spoke stepped forth with a smile on his face. I blinked. A smile? But Winglies were horrible, cruel people who enslaved others only for the pleasure of doing so! Smiling did not fit into that description.

"Well, Reven, you're not even going to get secondary workers if you keep bothering me! And besides, I won the draw." Savan said with a chuckle. He turned back to me and my mother. "Come along." We stayed where we were. After everything we went through, trust was not going to be easily won. Even for a smiling Wingly. Seeing our hesitation, he sighed. "You can come willingly or in chains. The choice is yours. I, however, want to get some sleep tonight, so make your decision quick!"

I glanced up at my mother, who was regarding Savan warily. Her hands came to my shoulders, holding me protectively to her. It was nice, seeing some reaction from her. I hoped she let us go willingly, because honestly I would rather let the Wingly trust us than having us chained up and helpless. My mother seemed to think this, too, because she hesitated only a moment more before gently nudging me forward. Savan nodded approvingly, and walked forth into the city.

We followed obediently, not wanting to cause anymore trouble. We were tired enough as it was. Savan was quiet up until we reached the first green orb that was the teleportation device.

"Ah. These will help you get around the city," he stated, "you simply step on, and it will take you to the next orb." He gestured far off to his right. I swallowed, not much liking the idea of it at all. Savan laughed. "Nothing to worry about, child. Just a simple contraption I helped invent. A little magic is all it takes." He suddenly sprouted his wings and lifted off the ground. "Now get on. I will meet you at the next orb."

The next half hour was a blurring moment of green and motion sickness. The magic of the orbs was quite the shock for my body, and to have it in constant doses was almost unbearable. When we reached his tower, I retched over the side. Savan reassured me it was natural for my first encounter with magic. "Body isn't used to it. But it'll adapt." He laughed, as if to himself. He led us into his tower, and the first room we entered was small, cramped, and incredibly...empty--save for two green orbs on the right and left.

"Right goes to living quarters. Left goes to the lab!" He declared as he ushered us onto the right orb. We were transported to another room with two orbs, and I sighed with exhaustion. Savan again gave us directions. "Right is for my home. Left is for yours." Ours?! I told myself not to get too excited, it was probably a cramped, dried up, dirty old hole in the wall for all I knew. But the fact that he said it was ours was what had me excited. In my mind, I wasn't really a slave as long as I had something to call mine.

We all stepped onto the left orb, and again we were transported. When I opened my eyes, I was in shock for perhaps the millionth time since this all started. The room was very Wingly-ish. Smooth walls, no corners. It wasn't as cramped as I thought it'd be, but it was still small. This room had soft blue and white lights that I thought enchanting. To my left was what I gathered to be a counter and cooking area. To my right were various Wingly furniture. All had the same swooping lines, the fitting form and comfortable velvet upholstering. I didn't, however, see any beds.

"You are very lucky, I think, that I won the draw to go first!" He grinned. "I am one of the head researchers of Aglis. I need good servants. And good servants will only be good if treated properly! Now!" He gestured to where a soft cotton curtain hung over the far wall facing us. "Beds are over there--" I frowned, behind the curtain? In the wall?! "--and I am tired! Tomorrow will be a slow day, I have some things that need explaining to both of you er--" He blinked. "What are your names by the way?"

"I am...Aranel." My mother's voice startled me, breaking her silent vigil. Savan stared at me expectantly.

"And you child?"

"My name's Shirley." I replied. He smiled.

"Aranel and Shirley! Oh my! Such nice names for servants! I really am lucky today!" He laughed, and with that he bid us good night and left. I moved away from my mother and ran over to inspect the beds. I pulled aside the curtain and there were, indeed, beds. Wingly beds. I wasn't quite sure how they were supposed to work.

"Momma?" I turned to find her inspecting the kitchen. She blinked at me.

"Yes, Shirley, what is it?"

"Are we still slaves?" I wasn't sure anymore. My child-mind not able to comprehend the sudden change of events. It contradicted itself. To be told you are a slave and then to be given your own home was odd. My mother wrinkled her pretty nose, and looked up at the wierdly shaped cupboards.

"I don't know, Shirley. I honestly don't know."