/=|= The Lost Raven =|=\
07
"A Slave, A Dog, A Worm"
For fourteen days, Tira stayed at Zasalamel's feet. Crawling like a dog just beside and behind him. At first he tested his spell's hold on her. Degraded her with every spoken word, and in every town they came across he had her enter the local arena battles with instructions to play feeble and lose miserably. And with the arrogant and cocky bastards such contests seem to attract, it was assured that they would not only pound her senseless, but mock, ridicule, and publicly humiliate her before throwing her out like a piece of garbage. And never a trace of indignation nor hesitation surfaced.
Zasalamel would tell her to clean his boots with her tongue, and she would obey. He would tell her to smack herself, and she would. The only times she was ever allowed to stand on her two feet was when she would suffer another devastating defeat in an arena. Zasalamel would sooner lower himself to performing mundane tasks himself than give this dog the dignity of standing up. Even when they crossed paths with bandits, he dealt with them single handedly.
The one time she was allowed to stand (besides the arenas) was another test. She was instructed to rig a noose and hang herself. She tied the knot, tossed it over a tree branch, secured it against a tree trunk, stood up on a pile of debris, and stepped off. Dangling from the end of the rope, she could stop the lynching by reaching up, grabbing the rope, and pulling herself up or even stepping back onto the pile of debris that supported her initially. But she didn't. The fear of death flashed in her eyes, her body tensed, and she bent her legs at the knees as some sort of subconscious side effect while struggling to breathe. But she kept her arms firmly locked behind her; she made no effort to get back on the pile. She allowed the hanging to continue until the noose choked her into unconsciousness. After which, Zasalamel cut her down, satisfied beyond all doubt that she was fully under his power.
"Why did I bother?" He constantly asked himself after each and every test. It was a waste of time using the spell on her in the first place, much less testing her again and again. Her feeble mind nearly shattered from the magician's powerful enchantment. She belonged to him. Permanently. She had no prayer of breaking free. No hope of resisting. Her will was broken. She was broken. Finished. A slave for all time. No, not a slave. She was beneath slavery. She was a dog. A dumb beast of burden barely capable of being domesticated. A dog. Nothing more. And he treated her as such. He wanted to put the miserable bitch out of her misery, but he couldn't. Not yet. Too much hinged on her. She would allow him to get close to, monitor, and control 'The Nightmare.' No, she had to live … for now.
She was only allowed food and water once per day before bed, and she was always forced to eat off the ground or (when she was lucky) out of a bowl just like a dog. She wasn't allowed to use her hands. She had to lower her face to the food, and pick it up off the ground with her teeth. Drinking water, she had to lap it up with her tongue.
For fourteen days, Tira crawled at Zasalamel's feet and her three friends were powerless to help. From town to town they travelled. The Egyptian conducted some business in each town, met with contacts, shady figures who paid her little attention. The terrain looked kinda familiar, but she didn't know for sure and had no way of knowing. But it didn't matter. She was a dog, and a dog need not know where she is. Once he took her to a tower and made her wait outside in the cold rain all night. Strange lights flickered from inside. Eerie lights of every shade of green. Scary and unnatural lights, but a small part of her consciousness still longed to go in. It was dry in there. Out here the icy cold heavy droplettes stung as they struck her. Thousands upon thousands smashed against her soft flesh, drenched her, numbed her, and froze her. But she couldn't go in. She couldn't move. She was a dog, and her master told her to stay. So she stayed.
By morning, she was a pitiful sight. Shaking and shivering uncontrollably, oblivious to the continual trembling whimper that came from her throat. But Zasalamel didn't care. She was beneath his concern. She was nothing.
On the dusk of the fourteenth day, they arrived just outside of a new town. She was instructed to stop while he paced around her in a circle, lecturing her. "It seems I've made a miscalculation, dog. You've become a burden to me. You slow me down, make it difficult for me to remain in the shadows where I belong, and because of this delay we've lost his trail. I can catch him and set the first convergence in motion, but not while carrying a crippled beast of burden with me. So now it has come time for us to part ways for awhile. I will track 'The Nightmare' alone, and fetch you when I am ready.
"In the meantime, you will have no memory of me in my absence. You will go back to being the way you were, allowed to bask in the privilege of human life which you do not deserve. You will carry an overwhelming guilt with you every waking moment because you will know in your heart you belong on all fours. But the moment I return, you will remember everything. You will crawl at my feet once again. Do you understand?"
Tira barked.
"Now, begone," and without mercy, he kicked the broken woman in the face as hard as he could, knocking her out cold. "Worthless," he said disdainfully, stepping on the back of her head and grinding her face into the dirt. He walked across her sexy prone form, wiping his feet on her unconscious body, and decided, "the role of a dog is too dignified for you. This is what you truly are: a worm beneath the feet of humanity." Zasalamel's weight upon her, the unconscious Tira coughed and wheezed and struggled to get air in her lungs. "But fortunately for you, it would be too much of an inconvenience to keep you there. The fates that govern our destinies are cruel and unjust. It's not enough that I must suffer the pain of death endlessly, but to end my hell I must depend upon a miserable worm like you. I will never forgive fate for this injustice," raising one of his boots up, he finished gravely, "and I will never forgive you."
He brought his foot down upon the defenseless girl's back, crushing the worm beneath his feet, and forcing all the air from her lungs. Then he stepped off her onto the road, leaving her there. Gasping for air and completely helpless. "When I have no further need of you, not even the Gods will be able to save your worthless hide from my wrath. And if there is any justice in this existence, then may you suffer my fate and die for eternity, Tira."
…
The world slowly faded into existence from an abyss of blackness. The world spun in blurry streaky circles around her. She had no idea where she was. Jail again? No, can't be jail. She heard muffled but perky conversation and distant but joyous laughter. Did she get put in the stocks in the town square again? No, she rolled over on the soft surface and … were those sheets? Soft sheets? Silk!
Now I know I'm still dreaming. Maybe I'm dead. Ooh! Maybe I'm in heaven!
She blinked several times, but the world still spun too fast, was too streaky, too blurry to make anything out. She clutched the coverings, curling up into a ball and pulling it close to the soft skin of her face. It was silk all right. Only silk could feel like this. Like she was floating on clouds. She sighed. And when she breathed in, she could smell fresh bread and … pie? She inhaled the aroma again. Yes, apple pie! She hadn't had pie in forever! It smelled sooooooooo good.
Yay! You're definitely finally undeniably dead, Tira. Happy happy times for all eternity! Now if the world would just slow down so she could enjoy it! Then again, maybe it'll never slow down. Maybe that's what Hell is supposed to be. Dammit! That would just be her luck!
"Oh, you're awake," a voice said. An old woman's gentle voice. (A sweet voice too!) "I hope I didn't wake you."
Weakly, "am I dead?"
The voice laughed, but somehow Tira knew it wasn't a malicious laugh. She wasn't laughing at her. It was a friendly laugh. A happy nice laugh that meant well. "No child. Why would you think that?"
Tira felt the tentacles of unconsciousness slowly slither around her awareness, and knew she could not fight the mighty leviathan. Sleep would take her again, and soon. The spinning grew faster. She closed her eyes, and weakly rolled over to face in the direction (she hoped) the voice came from. Her voice drifted, "I dunno where I am or how I got here."
"Oh, well, we found you outside of town. You were lying in the road. Looked like you had been robbed and left for dead. We couldn't have just left you there."
"Why not?" She asked in a quiet whisper (all she could manage.) Any second now, and she'd be gone.
"Goodness, child. That wouldn't have been right."
"Thank …" and Tira lost consciousness mid-sentence.
Writer's Note:
For this story, I imagine Tira looking like my version of her from SCIV's editor. Link to My Tira pictures located in my profile. (I would link here, but won't let me for some reason.)