Episode 8: I Will Not Bow
26th of Frumentum
The path ahead led out of the forest sector of Lyoko and into the mountainous sector. It lay between two cliffs, and while this road was more dangerous geographically and longer time wise according to Odd, Jeremie had deemed this the best way to travel. When asked about why he'd chosen this road, he simply said that they were dangerously close to the southern coast of Lyoko. Aelita had startled at this, and for the past few hours she had said nothing.
"Watch out for avalanches and ambushes. This is a dangerous road," Jeremie warned as the Heroes began down the path. Something malevolent hung in the air, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "I don't like this." He said quietly.
Odd smirked at the Wise Man. "'I don't like this'? That's right up there with 'what could possibly go wrong?'!" He laughed at himself, folding his arms behind his head. He heard a snap on the cliff to the right of the aravel, and he pointed up at it. "It's a trap!"
Sure enough, rocks collapsed behind them, and a small group of humans in leather armor appeared in front of them, effectively blocking any chance the Heroes had to escape. On the cliff to their left, three men appeared. Two were in leather armor like the others, but one was in thicker leather with heavy iron gauntlets and greaves. Aelita's eyes widened at the sight of him, and she hid behind the boys. Jeremie and Ulrich noticed this, and they returned their attention to the men on the cliff as the man in heavy leather spoke. "You are in possession of stolen property! Back away from the slave now and you'll be spared!"
Odd looked over his shoulder at Aelita. "I suppose they're talking about you?"
She nodded. "Slave hunters," She murmured.
Jeremie took a step forward. "Aelita is a free woman!" He shouted. The Outcast smiled, but it was gone faster than it arrived.
The man raised his right hand, and the humans around them drew their weapons. "This is your last warning! Hand over the slave now!" He shouted.
Ulrich drew his sword, and the other Heroes echoed him. "Death first!" He shouted.
The slaver archers in front of the aravel began to fire shots, and Yumi spun her bo staff to stop the arrows. Jeremie and Ulrich ran to engage the archers, Ulrich slightly behind Jeremie, as the Wise Man was using his shield to stop the arrows. Ulrich leapt out from behind Jeremie once they were close enough and stabbed the first archer. He decapitated the second after the slaver stabbed his shoulder with a steel dagger. Jeremie bashed his shield against the slaver in front of him while Ulrich stabbed him between the ribs. The Mercenary pounced upon the fourth slaver, raising his katanna above his head and stabbing him in the throat. Jeremie sliced at the fifth, holding him down until Ulrich could finish him off.
Laura and Odd took out the lesser slavers on the cliff while Yumi threw her fan at the leader. He stumbled over the edge, and Aelita used the opportunity to strike him with a boulder, sending him into the cliff on the other side. The blow likely killed him instantly. One of the lesser slaves stood, and Aelita created an icicle at the same time Laura created a fire bolt. He was sent back out of sight.
They remained ready for battle for several moments, listening and waiting for more slavers to ambush them. None arrived, and they relaxed. Laura folded her arms and asked, "Aelita, why would these slavers ambush us? It's an awful lot of effort just to recapture one slave."
Aelita laughed nervously. "It might be because I might have accidentally-on-purpose murdered a nobleman and half a dozen bouncers in my escape attempt?" She said with a nervous grin, fiddling with her fingers.
Jeremie took a in a deep breath, pushing his hair back. "We're going to need more than that."
"Well," She looked off into the distance, likely in the direction of Arak-Muna. "That's kind of a long story."
Jeremie ordered the Heroes to make camp at the top of the cliff for a high vantage point. When they were settled, he asked Aelita to begin her story.
25th of Parvulis, 5:03 Guardian
Aelita had been relying on her magic to keep her alive for a little over two months, and she was no closer to Arlathan now than she had been when she was imprisoned in the Oubliette. More frightening than that, she was overcome with the desire to lie down and die. She'd tried to starve herself, but she lacked the self-control. She'd even come face-to-face with a pack of wolves, but they ignored her.
Today, she was determined to kill herself. Aelita looked over the edge of a cliff she'd found, and she spread her arms out, feeling the wind as it tried to push her away from her cause. She fought against it, spinning around and falling back. The air forced her long hair to blow into her face, twisting around her like fire. For the first time in a long time, Aelita felt free.
Suddenly, something struck her back, knocking her off course and spinning her to face the ground. She saw what was going on—the Garden, as Edna had called it, was trying to keep her from dying. A root emerged from the cliff in an attempt to catch her, though the momentum was too great, and just slapped her off her course again. This happened more and more, the time between the strikes getting shorter until at some point two emerged at the same time.
Aelita groaned as she realized that even if she fell now, she wouldn't perish. She was only about a meter off of the ground. She sat up, her midsection hurting, though nothing seemed to be broken. She slapped the cliff's face, and the roots sank back inside. Aelita landed on her feet, and she collapsed onto the earth, staring up at the sky. Her hair was a mess now as it surrounded her, and she was sure that when she sat up, leaves and twigs would be caught in it. She covered her eyes and started to cry.
She heard people approach her, though she didn't move. "Leave me alone here to die," She said as her voice bounced up and down from her sobs.
"Oh, but that would be such a waste of elf-flesh!" One of the people around her said, feigning disappointment. Aelita shot up and looked at the people around her. They wore leather and carried serrated weapons, and on their necks were tattoos that Edna had told her marked a slave pusher. Aelita pulled up the earth to separate them, and she jumped and scurried away from him. The slavers rushed around the elevated earth, and one shouted, "She's a mage! Get her!"
Aelita turned and sent ice shards at the slavers to distract them as she attempted to transform into an owl. One of the slavers threw a chain at her, pulling her to the ground when it wrapped around her ankle. She looked at the runes on it, and discovered very quickly they were the same as the ones magistrates used. Having nothing to cut herself with, Aelita tried to bite through her own flesh, but when the slavers saw this, they wrapped chains around her wrists, tying them behind her back. They muzzled her with a scold's bridle, and when she tried to move her tongue she experienced extreme pain. "Lucky catch, eh boys?" One of the slavers said.
"A magician girl, and she's young at that." Another commented. "She'll fetch a fine price to whoever wants her."
The first man who had teased her looked at her and smiled. "I suppose we should at least do that person a courtesy by taming her first." He took a step closer, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She heard whispering, and suddenly someone was dragging her. She turned to look at them, and they threw her into a cage with three others.
The cage started moving, and Aelita examined the faces of the elves around her. All were bloody and bruised, and most were chained. She tried to force herself to wake up, as if this were some kind of nightmare. Edna had taught her about nightmares, hadn't she? But every time Aelita opened her eyes, every time she caused herself pain to attempt to wake up, she was still trapped inside her nightmare.
A few hours later, they arrived at a tall gate made of wooden pikes. One of the slavers made a bird call, and the gates opened. The slavers brought the cage to the center of the port. Aelita could see the high gate that blocked the view of the ocean, as well as the dock where ships brought in slaves from overseas. Even there, an iron gate prevented slaves from trying to swim away.
One of the slavers dragged her out of the cage and into a tiny hut. Here, a woman dressed far too nicely to be a slave removed her muzzle. She efficiently and rather gruffly removed the clothes Aelita had been wearing for the past two months—a ragged white shirt and long blue skirt—Leaving her shivering and feeling terribly vulnerable as she pushed her onto a stool. The woman played with Aelita's hair, bouncing it in her hands. "You have beautiful hair," The woman said flatly, her accent suggesting she was a noble from Deutschland.
"Thank you," Aelita replied weakly, her voice shaky. She looked at herself in a dirty mirror adjacent to her, constantly aware of the woman's appraising eyes on her. She looked worse than she felt—she had lost weight, obvious especially in her face, and her eyes had lost their youthful glimmer. Her hair was wild, reaching her midsection and rampant with split ends. The woman appeared behind her, and she held Aelita's long hair over her head. She took a pair of scissors to it, and Aelita watched in horror as her hair fell, now not even reaching her ears. Her hands jumped up to her mouth, and the woman began to shave what little remained of Aelita's hair off with a razor. Her hair fell in clumps to the floor, and when the woman finally finished, the elf rubbed her now bare scalp.
The woman pushed Aelita off of the stool and threw a dirty tunic into her hands. "Go on. Get to work."
Aelita looked up at her in confusion. "I don't know where I'm supposed to go." She pulled the dirty tunic over her head. It prickled her skin; whatever it was made of, it irritated Aelita's skin, though nothing had really bothered her before.
The woman rolled her eyes. "Go find Mirianye! Go on!"
She pushed Aelita out of the door, and the elf looked around the slave port. Hundreds of elves worked there, and Aelita watched more than one drop dead of exhaustion. Everywhere, all the time, she heard whips snapping and screams from the poor souls they struck. Someone snapped one in her direction and shouted in a strange language she'd never heard. She scurried away from it, and she spotted a girl about a year older than her. Aelita followed this girl, and she led her to a tall elven woman whose hair had begun to grow in a mousy shade of brown. When the woman spotted Aelita, she was revealed to have eyes that were as black as night. Unlike other elven adults Aelita had met, this woman had not earned her vallaslin—Edna would have called her a "woman-child."
"Look, Emily—you've got a follower." This woman said, and the elven girl Aelita had shadowed turned. Her eyebrows were black, suggesting she had once had black hair, and her eyes were dark too. She squinted, as if it were difficult for her to see. "How old are you, sweet thing?" The woman asked, getting on Aelita's eye level.
"I'm eleven," Aelita said.
"You're eleven!" The woman repeated. "I suppose that's old enough. My name is Mirianye, and I take the pretty girls they send to me and train them to be… escorts." Her voice trailed off. "But you can call me Mamae Asha. All of my girls do. Now, sweet thing, what is your name?"
Aelita looked at her feet. "My name is Aelita." She scrunched up her nose in confusion. "What's an escort?"
Mamae Asha didn't bother to sugarcoat it. "It's a fancy word for a whore." She thought for a second. "Well, an upper class whore. But still a whore."
18th of Molioris, 5:04 Guardian
Eight months later it was Aelita's name day, and the occasion was marked by Aelita officially beginning her training with Mamae Asha. She'd watched the lessons before, though mostly she ran errands. Mamae Asha taught her songs to sing and dances to perform to grab the attention of men. At those things Aelita excelled—she enjoyed singing and dancing. There were other lessons that Aelita never properly learned.
The first of which was the actual wrapping her mind around the fact she was a slave. Aelita held onto the idea she could one day be free. "Listen, sweet thing, if you want your freedom so badly, I'll tell you what you have to do," Mamae Asha said, "You had better hope that some nobleman comes down here and thinks that you're pretty enough to push out babies. That's the only way women make it out of here free."
Aelita disagreed. "That's not freedom."
"It's the closest you'll ever get!" Mamae Asha explained. Then, in a softer tone, she added, "Think of it like this. A nobleman picks you up here. He takes you back to his mansion in some big city like Cortex or Kadic. It'll be all the fun of being married without the commitment or the stress!"
"Or the dignity," Aelita shook her head. "I don't think that's true. He bought me, and if the reason was to 'make babies,' as you say, I think that he expects some kind of commitment. And I don't know about you, but I think just being around him would stress me out."
Mamae Asha tore at her hair, or what remained of it—the slavers had cut it the month before. "You're too critical of this! Listen, I'll put it to you plainly—men will escape this by death. But women are lucky. We can escape through babies."
"I don't think that's true!"
"The humans want more humans! If your children have human fathers, they will be human!"
"You say 'fathers' like there will be more than one."
"I'm being realistic."
"Maybe so, but I know that I'm meant for more than this. I want my freedom!" Aelita said. She stood and looked outside at the stars. "I want to go to Arlathan. I want to be with the People. I want to be free. I will be free!"
Mamae Asha walked over to Aelita and gently took her shoulders. She sat down with the child and said quietly, "Sweet thing, I know that you want this unattainable thing that exists inside your head, this thing you call freedom but child, you cannot have it!" She grabbed Aelita's hands. "Even if you do manage to escape, even if you do make it to Arlathan, do you think you'll ever be truly free? This place destroys people, Aelita. That destruction will follow you for the rest of your life."
"The People have learned to live with much sorrow," Aelita said. "Edna taught me suledin; endure."
"You must endure, obviously. You'll die otherwise. And trust me, sweet thing; you don't want to die around here." Mamae Asha pulled Aelita closer, "But you cannot escape either, nor can you forget."
28th of Cassus
It was the dead of winter, and Aelita was convinced that she would freeze. She'd never been this cold before—not when she'd spent nights alone in the Scarwood Forest, or when she'd been trapped in the Oubliette. This winter seemed colder than the last.
Her fingers were numb, and she'd been tasked to carry alternate goods to the caravans for some merchants who were headed north. She was frail now, her bones showing in many places, and if not for Mamae Asha's intervention, death would likely be written on her face. She tripped over her own feet, dropping the goods she carried, breaking something small and ugly. The Overseer shouted at her, and she could only make herself as tiny as she could. He dragged her away from the line and into a tent.
The Overseer ordered her to remove her tunic, and when she had, he tied her binds to chains against the wall. He grabbed a whip that lay on the table. He used it to strike her. With every strike she cried out, though after she would count it, as she had been taught. She focused on the number, knowing if she lost the count he would start over. Mamae Asha appeared what felt like hours later, though likely it was only a few minutes. She gave the message to the Overseer, and then when he left, she grabbed a damp rag and walked over to Aelita. "How can it be that someone who is so graceful when she dances be so clumsy when she works?" She teased lightly, though she stopped when Aelita cried out in pain. Clearly she was not in the mood. "Child, I keep telling you that you don't live in a fantasy world. This is real. You have to accept it. This will keep happening until you do." Mamae Asha began to wipe the blood off of Aelita's back. The water was cold, and Aelita cringed. She arched her back and took a breath in, and the blood was absorbed by the wounds. Mamae Asha grabbed her shoulders and shook her, breaking her concentration and causing the wounds to open up slightly more. "Aelita, no! If they see you using that kind of magic they'll kill you!"
"Death would be preferable to this," Aelita cried, looking up at the sky. "If you won't let them kill me, and you won't let nature take me, then why don't you do something useful for once in your life and end me now?!"
"Death is not the answer!" Mamae Asha said, grabbing Aelita's chin. "I will do what I must to keep you alive. You do what you're best at in return."
Aelita yanked her head away and looked at her knees as Mamae Asha freed her arms. "And what is that? Sing? Dance? Bring in money for the shemlen?"
"Endure," Mamae Asha said firmly. "You can be strong, sweet thing. Be brave. Be strong. Wait for the men to come, and then you can be as free as you'll ever be."
Aelita looked off into the distance. "And for a moment I actually thought that you were giving me good advice. But…" Mamae Asha took in a deep breath as markings appeared on Aelita's right arm and her cheeks. They were pink, and they seemed to glow for a moment before Aelita spoke again. "…I will endure. I will not bow."
29th of Molioris, 5:05 Guardian
The 'men' had come early. It didn't really matter—the girls had been ready for weeks. At least, the fourteen-year-olds were. Though the girl they had ignored the last time they had come seemed to be the only girl they saw. Aelita sat with the younger girls, teaching them to play the lute. Aelita had surpassed her teachers in the art, though it was clear by her expression that she was simply going through the motions and no longer enjoying the music. Mamae Asha stepped between the men and folded her arms. "She's only thirteen! She hasn't had time to complete the training!"
"It's been two years that you've had her! How long could you possibly need?" One of the men asked.
"She's just a child!" Mamae Asha protested.
The second man chuckled. "That's never stopped anyone. You know that as well as I."
"We had a deal! She needs another year!"
"If she stays here for another year, she'll die!" The first man argued. He pointed at her. "Look at her! She won't survive another winter! If she comes with us, we can put some meat back on her bones. She'll survive." When Mamae Asha hesitated, he said flatly, "Listen, Mirianye. What would you rather have? Would you rather watch your pet suffer and die or would you rather send her away where she can live far longer if she's useful?"
Mamae Asha sighed, and she called Aelita over into the hut where the fourteen-year-old girls prepared to go off with the men. Mamae Asha sat her down and explained carefully, "Aelita… you know as well as I do that you will not survive much longer if you stay here." She tried to protest, but Mamae Asha quieted her. "I don't want you to die, sweet thing. It's always sad when a young person like you dies in a place like this. Please, child, don't fight me on this. You do not want to die."
Aelita hung her head. Her hair had started to grow back in since the last time the slavers had cut it, though her scalp was still visible in some places. Mamae Asha handed Aelita clothes, a bikini-like shirt, a long blue glove to cover her vallaslin, and a skirt that wrapped around her legs. Then she slid a gold bracelet onto her arm and wrist, tied a black choker around her neck and pulled a necklace made of red and blue beads over her head.
Mamae Asha grabbed the paint off of the desk next to the stool Aelita sat on. She spun her brush in the stuff and painted her eyes and lips. Finally she dabbed a bit of perfume under her chin and held her pupil's chin in her hand. "You look beautiful."
Mamae Asha helped Aelita up, and she turned her around so she could look at herself in the mirror. Reflected there was the image of a woman where a half-grown child had stood. Aelita suddenly began to shiver as a wave of realization hit her. She looked up at her mentor and asked with desperation in her voice, "Mamae Asha, what do I do?"
What could she say? "Just be nice to the gentlemen, 'Lita. They'll be nice to you."
26th of Frumentum, 5:08 Guardian
Yumi tore at her hair. "By the gods! That's horrible advice! Horrible, horrible advice!" She looked Aelita dead in the eyes and begged, "Please tell me that you didn't listen to her!"
Odd looked over to the side. "May I just say that someone should give this woman the award for 'worst motivational speaker in the history of history'?" He said.
Aelita furrowed her eyebrows. "Do you mind? I'm trying to tell a story here!"
12th of Umbralis, 5:05 Guardian
The Hungry Gypsy was out of the way, though it was relatively close to Cayfalls, a moderately sized town in Replika. She and Emily, the girl she'd shadowed to find Mamae Asha, had both been sent there, though in the six months Aelita had been there, she'd been lucky. She was still a virgin, and the owner of the Gypsy said that no one had, so far, put a price on her that had satisfied him. She could only pray that the streak continued. Instead, she performed, which she enjoyed because she was allowed to kick the men—and the occasional woman—who tried to touch her.
Emily, on the other hand, seemed to almost enjoy this. She pressured Aelita into doing things, though for the most part, Aelita refused. So far, she couldn't tell if Emily really enjoyed her work or if it was just the excitement that enthused her.
Aelita took comfort in the fact that she was far away from Arak-Muna, and that she was no longer in danger of starving. The food was good, and though she refused to drink it, she heard that the wine made for fancy company.
But on this night, everything changed. A nobleman from Cortex named James Finson had come to celebrate something—Aelita had heard he was in the area to make some kind of a business deal, so she assumed that it had gone well—and he had noticed her while she was dancing. The usual man who entered the Gypsy could not sate the owner's greed, but Finson was a nobleman.
Aelita had finished her routine and had returned to her room. She caught her breath and fixed her make-up and her hair. It had grown in considerably, and her scalp was fully covered. She smiled as she ran her fingers through it. It would likely never be as long as it had been but having any hair at all was better than having no hair.
Her door opened, revealing Finson to be standing on the other side. Aelita was confused at first—men usually weren't usually allowed into her chambers—and all of a sudden she realized what was going on. She stood and backed against a wall. "Please, no."
Finson closed the door behind him. He walked over to her, carrying a bottle of wine. He gave it to her, and she sighed as she took it. She uncorked the bottle and poured the wine into goblets on a shelf. He wrapped his arms around her, and she shuddered at his touch. Aelita pulled away from him, and with a forced smile, she handed him the wine goblet. Finson sat on the bed and took a long swig of his wine, and Aelita noticed the dagger on his belt. If she resisted, surely he would use it to kill her—and if he were half as rich as he claimed, he could afford it—but if she were careful…
Aelita realized that he'd asked her something, and she tried to remember what he'd said. She muttered something that sounded about right, and if it had been wrong he didn't notice. Finson kept talking about himself, and Aelita began to wonder if he ever shut his mouth.
"But enough of this. You have a job to do, don't you?" Finson said, standing and approaching her. Aelita shrank next to him, trying to avoid eye contact. She tried to escape on the side with the dagger, but he moved with her, and she reconsidered her plan. "You're a skittish one, aren't you?" Finson asked, and Aelita kept eye contact as she tried to steal the dagger from his belt. Finson caught her hands and tried to guide them himself.
Aelita tore her hands away and wiggled away from him. "Um. Yes. Yes, I'm skittish. Maybe you would be better, I don't know, going home to your wife?" She said as he followed her.
"You are a delightful change from the pale slug that I married." Finson chuckled. Aelita shook her head. He grabbed her suddenly, and she struggled against him. "Stop struggling!" She refused, and she kicked to his side, trying to knock the dagger from its holster. Finson forced her onto the bed, and despite her squirming, he began to kiss her chest.
The feeling of violation was almost enough to freeze her in place and the words of Mamae Asha somehow floated into her mind. For an agonizing minute longer she endured his lips, recalling in great detail all the times she'd been whipped, all the times she'd been tired into horribly painful positions for wanting her freedom, for talking of escape. The sensation of his hands trailing along her arm, behind her back to the strings of her too small top pulled her out of her reverie. Her mind was made up; she'd escape or die trying.
Aelita grabbed the wine bottle and struck him as hard as she could with it. It shattered, and his hand flew to his head as the bleeding started. The elf honed in on his blood and used it to cut the binds that had kept her magic from flowing for two years. She revealed in the magic that now flowed freely, enjoying the power that she could feel. Finson stood angrily, and she grabbed hold of his blood to force him back down.
She could have run. In fact, she wanted to. As she sat up to run, a familiar voice echoed inside her head. It wasn't the spirit of Hunger, no; it was Murray, though his voice hadn't changed in two years. The voice told her to kill the nobleman; it told her to kill all of them for what they'd done to her. For a moment, Aelita thought that she'd gone mad, but Erahalam pierced her chest, though she hadn't seen it since she'd hidden it inside her two years ago. A familiar gleam came from the eye sockets, and she nodded.
Aelita rolled over onto him, smiling. "I guess you don't have to worry about going home to that pale slug, huh?" She mocked him, grabbing the dagger at his side. It was of fine make—the edge of the blade was pure ebony, with swirls and designs carved into it, while the actual blade was made of mithril and very, very sharp. Aelita studied the fox carved into the walnut handle before she drove the blade into Finson's gut, squeezing the blood in his throat when he tried to scream. Aelita stabbed him repeatedly, splashing blood onto her arms, chest and face.
When she was sure he was dead, she jumped off of him, wiping her mouth with her arm, though succeeding only in smearing more blood there. Finson left a large pool of blood on her floor, and Aelita stepped into it. It was warm against her toes, and in that moment, the only thing she could do was laugh.
Aelita spun around the man who had tried to have his way with her, laughing. She was free, and he was dead. She'd won. Aelita danced in his blood; caring not that blood crawled between her toes, and stopped only when one of the bouncers forced the door open. "Witch! WITCH!" The bouncer shouted, and Aelita raised the blood around her to form a ring. She grabbed Erahalam and pointed Murray the Skull at the bouncer. The blood lashed out like a sword, striking at the man's chest. The bouncer stumbled back and leaned against the back wall.
The elf threw the dagger at the bouncer, stabbing him in the throat. She walked over to him, turned the blade and pulled it out. Aelita held out her arms and transformed into an owl. A bouncer observed this and started shouting for his comrades to stop the owl. Aelita flew into the common area, where an off-duty magistrate sat along with the regular customers. One of the bouncers ordered him to silence the owl, and he complied. Aelita was forced back into her elven form, and she was falling towards the floor.
Fighting through the pain, she grabbed a beam near the ceiling and twisted to sit on it. Aelita jumped up and rolled to the side to avoid their arrows. She couldn't use her normal magic, so she sliced open her hand to use her blood. She grabbed hold of one of the bouncers, turning him against his comrades. She watched as they fought the enthralled bouncer, and then one of them turned against her again. Aelita sent a spear of blood towards him, but his arrow found her first. Gritting her teeth, she pulled the arrow out and began to treat the wound, using the entropic energy around her to heal.
Spotting an opportunity, Emily, who had hidden behind the bar with the other whores, grabbed a bottle of wine and broke it over the head of a bouncer who had been cruel to her more times than not. She looted his daggers from his body, dual wielding them as she fought against the bouncers. Emily smiled at Aelita, though there was a flash in her eyes. Had the other slave been putting up a façade? Aelita smiled back.
Aelita jumped down, having fought through the silencing. She used Erahalam to send a lightning bolt at the magistrate before slicing at the throat of a bouncer who charged her with the blade. Another one of the bouncers tried to sneak up on Emily, and she threw the dagger in her hands at him. Emily flinched, but then she smiled and forced her remaining dagger into the bouncer's gut. Aelita grabbed the forehead of a bouncer who rushed towards her, and then she pushed him away. He swelled up, and a look of pure terror spread across his face as he exploded, splattering the walls of the Gypsy with blood and killing two other bouncers. Aelita summoned Hunger and ordered him to tear apart her enthralled bouncer.
Finally, it was quiet. The patrons had fled, security was dead, and the owners were nowhere in sight. Emily and Aelita stood back to back, surveying the damage while waiting for more bouncers to attack them. "I appreciate your help," Aelita whispered.
"You know, I think this 'freedom' thing you keep talking about might be rubbing off on me." She laughed. Emily took Aelita's hand, and together they ran out, rushing away from the Hungry Gypsy. It resided on the other side of a rope bridge in the woods, and once they had crossed the bridge, Emily used her daggers to slice the rope. "This should hold them off. Come on, Aelita, let's bolt."
Emily grabbed Aelita's hand again, and after a bit of running, Aelita determined they were travelling north. Lyoko and Arlathan resided to the west. "Wait! Where are we going?"
"Away from the Gypsy. Where else?"
"And then where? We can't just wander, aimlessly."
"So long as we wander aimlessly away from the Gypsy, I'm happy."
Aelita looked at her toes. They were still caked in blood, though it seemed to have dried. "I'm going to try to gain entrance to Arlathan." She announced as Emily turned and walked away.
Emily stopped walking. "You'll never get in on your own. You would have to join up with a clan of wilders, and none of them frequent that part of Lyoko this time of year."
"Creator willing, the things Edna taught me will be good for something." Aelita muttered. "So I guess you aren't coming with me?"
"I'm not a wilder. I don't belong in Arlathan." Emily thought for a moment. "I think I'll head up to Cortex, at least for a while. I hear they've got the best sailors this side of Nippon." Emily smiled and turned away. "Good luck, Aelita."
Aelita smiled. "Creator watch over you, Emily."
26th of Frumentum, 5:08 Guardian
Aelita looked up, her story finished. The group was silent. Yumi moved over to Aelita's side and embraced her, and the Outcast smiled at her. Jeremie cleared his throat. "It's hard to believe all of those things happened to you. I mean, I can believe it. That's the worst part."
Ulrich blinked. "How do you stay so upbeat? I think you've got a reason to be bitter."
Aelita laughed, and she still giggled as she tried to calm herself down. "I could be less perky if you'd like." She began to speak monotonously. "The darkness of my past has seeped into my soul. The world is black and so is my heart. Every day I live is another day closer to my death. Oh, woe is me. Woe!"
Ulrich seemed uncomfortable. "No, that's okay."
She smiled at him. "I like perky better, too."
Odd crossed his arms. "I guess we should be on the lookout for people looking for you? We're only a few days away from Cayfalls, after all."
Laura sighed. "So now in addition to a witch we're travelling with a former prostitute and the murderer of a nobleman? Wonderful."
Aelita looked up at the night sky and then back to Laura. "Is that really all you got out of that story?"
"No, I also learned that elves give horrible advice." Laura said, and she smirked.
The Outcast shook her head. "Something tells me that you already held that opinion." She sighed again, and she looked off into the distance. "At least now I don't have to worry about you finding out from a different source. It feels good to finally talk about this to someone."
Aelita looked to the north, probably in the direction of Arlathan. She spoke about it often, but all of the Heroes wondered if she had ever made it there. Ulrich cleared his throat. "Anyway, it's getting late. I've got first watch tonight, so the rest of you should head off to bed." The Heroes stood and entered their respective tents, excluding Jeremie and Ulrich. "You going to sleep tonight, captain?" Ulrich asked, though his tone was disrespectful.
Jeremie ignored it, or more likely accepted it. "Probably not for a while; I don't really feel tired." They sat in silence. Jeremie watched the flickering orange and yellow flames of the fire and became lost in his thoughts. He couldn't, wouldn't show his emotions in front of everyone. But his clenched fists, slumping posture and unfocused eyes would tell all anyone wanted to know about his state. He was angry. At the men and woman who made their living off of such victimization. At his fiancée for her cold indifference to all she had suffered. At himself for… everything.
He glanced briefly at Aelita's tent and marveled at the strength she must have had to overcome that experience and to talk to them now. He shook his head sadly and his eyes trailed to Laura's tent. Would she have been able to survive that? Would he himself?
His eyes traced a path back to the ground between his boots. Letting out a sad sigh he glanced up to the stars that Aelita had so much faith in. For a moment he stared upwards into the void above, and then he returned his gaze to the earth. He recalled the date with Aelita and then the first time he'd seen the physical scars of her ordeal.
It wasn't very real then. Now however, try as he might, he couldn't stop the images. He imagined her being stripped and chained that first time. He could almost hear scream as the whip tore open her back, hear her shaking voice, choked with that pain calling out the number of her lashes through the sobs.
Tears slid down his eyes and his breath caught in his throat as he desperately tried not to openly cry. The movie in his head continued. Aelita screaming and crying as some inhuman overseer cracked his whip against her skin, demanding she start the counting over because she mumbled a number in her sobs. He got up, and all but ran for the cover of his tent. Sleep wasn't coming, but at least he could cry quietly and out of sight.