Author's Note: This arc takes place in Roshal, and deals with one of the most vile characters in the story. There are references to torture, slavery, and mind breaking. I will be adding a summary at the end of the chapter for people who do not wish to read about such things.

Sibby appeared.

Something tried connecting with her, but she brushed it away.

Something was different. It was wrong. A connection that hadn't been there before. She tried to snap it... but failed!

A group of men and three capes surrounded her. She recognized the winged man, fire tiger, and plant woman as the capes that had been chasing her before. Most of the regular-looking people were dressed well, if not as gaudy as the rest. The ones that wore the most expensive looking clothes looked eager and wore smiles she normally punished people for. Everyone else looked... tired. Their eyes drooped. Their limbs were hanging limp at their sides. One stifled a yawn. It was as if they'd been awake for days.

But that couldn't be the case. The capes had chased her through the city. Their attacks had destabilized her form again and again. They'd finally been able to corner her in the location where she kept on being re-summoned. That had been just after dawn.

She looked around. The sun was high in the sky. Time had passed from when she'd last popped.

Someone said something, but she ignored it.

She could un-summon herself, but she couldn't do the reverse. Only William or Kevin could summon her. Or, she mentally added, whatever it was that kept reforming her at this location. It had been bringing her back with no delay previously.

Something had clearly changed.

Someone said something again. She ignored whomever it was and craned her neck to try and see beyond the crowd.

Ow.

Something was rubbing against her. Not clothing, but something equally irritating was around her neck!

She reached up to tear it off. Her arm rose halfway before falling limply at her side.

What?

WHAT?

She stared at her traitorous appendage before a voice broke through her thoughts and DEMANDED to be heard.

"Djinni. I am Riqre'ma Medaale, and I am your owner and master."

Sibby glanced at the man who'd spoken. Oh. It was him. She remembered him. He was on her list. Still, she had more important things to do - like getting her arm to work.

"Djinni. I command you to kneel before me!"

The words, once again, demanded her attention. In fact... they resonated with the foreign connection that had appeared. Sibby ignored them. She wasn't a Djinni, whatever that was, so the man was clearly not speaking to her. Instead she raised her other arm to her neck...

It fell limp at her side too!

"Creature! Come here immediately! Do so without delay!"

The words entered the connection, and Sibby immediately responded. Or at least her traitorous body did. It moved by itself and stumbled over to him without any of her usual grace.

"Kneel."

Sibby knelt.

"Good." The man smiled at her. Unlike before, this one reached his eyes. However, the gleam there wasn't happiness or mirth. Sibby usually didn't pay attention to how people smiled. Only a few mattered enough to her to earn that privilege. She had, however, seen a smile like that before.

A smile that promised nothing but pain to its recipient.

She hadn't thought about it in a long time. Back then, she hadn't noticed anything wrong. She could understand the meaning, but past-Sibby hadn't known how... evil it was.

Who was he? She'd heard his name before... Right. 'Riqre'ma something'. Or Riqre, as other people had called him.

Riqre had the same smile as Jack Slash.

Riqre turned his head and looked at one of his [Slaves]. The man instantly bowed, turned around, and sprinted away. The [Slave Master] then turned to his social equal. "Well done! I shall have the rest of the gold and treasures brought here immediately!"

"It is as you say, honored Riqre'ma Medaale." The man dipped his head in respect. "We will now take the Djinni back to the Hall to perform the final checks and ensure that its magic is fully bound."

"No need. No need. And I told you to call me Riqre!" He slapped Yulnos' shoulder. "There is no need to stand on formality between the two of us! Just as there is no need for further testing of your [Slaves]' fine work!"

"Are... you sure, Riqre?" Yulnos swept his arm over the assembled [Slaves] that had been used to cast the days-long ritual. "Such precautions are a simple task and will hardly take two days to accomplish."

"Nonsense, old friend!" Riqre let out a belly laugh. "Has a single Djinni ever failed to be fully bound by the ritual? Roshal has a long history, and I have studied it well. Caution can be a poison just as deadly as anything else."

Yulnos bowed his head again. "You speak the truth. Ever since Roshal's illustrious founding, we have not suffered a single Djinni breaking their shackles on their own."

'On their own' was the key phrase there. Others had broken their shackles in the past, most notably the Death of Chains - may it rot in Rhir for all eternity! Still, Riqre had been away from his home and his experiments for too long. While he could trust his personal [Slaves] to do their best, the fact was that some matters required his personal touch. It had been hard enough making the trek in and out of Lailight Scintillation over this past week.

He needed to be there in person for his latest batch to proclaim their love, but he also didn't dare bring the jars inside the capital city. He had pioneered techniques that even other [Slave Masters] hadn't thought of. Besides, he knew what the 'final checks' entailed. They would force the Djinni to perform every task it could do with its magic. They would tirelessly catalog every single action. Most importantly, they would weave another layer of spells around their captives.

Spells that would not only give them control of the Djinni, but also allow their monitoring of it. The control, he did not worry about. It could not exceed the base shackles that had been woven into the Djinni's very nature. In fact, he approved of other Djinni having it! After all, if their masters died, it was of paramount importance that they had a central authority to bring them in-line. If you didn't, then you risked an adventurer or so-such finding the still-enslaved Djinni.

That was dangerous. Not in the sense of the creature potentially gaining freedom, but in that Roshal might lose one of its strategic resources. It was an ongoing effort to monopolize all the Djinni in the world... but such a thing was also, by nature, a slow process.

No. The real reason that he could not allow such a thing, besides the growing delay, was that he refused to be spied upon. It would be a simple thing to command his new Djinni to stay out of certain areas and to not be present for some of his more innovative training methods.

But Riqre wished to incorporate his Djinni in such things! That was why he had been so thrilled to hear that a new one had formed. The first in a hundred years! Not only were Djinni so rare that he would have a hard time purchasing one regardless of his wealth, but they would have numerous layers of bindings on them. It was worth it to nearly beggar himself to obtain a new-born, and he would not, could not allow anyone else to own it except him!

"No, no, my good friend." Riqre shook his head. "I did not plan to be away from my estate for so long. There are immeasurable tasks that I must attend to. I must away in all haste!"

Yulnos frowned, but didn't gainsay him after that. Shortly thereafter, Riqre's [Slaves] arrived in a procession - carrying two chests of holding between them.

"Checking the payment will take a while yet, Riqre." Yulnos bowed his head again. "Since you will be delayed in any case, why not take advantage of Lailight Scintillation's Djinni examination resources?"

"Right you are!" Riqre laughed. "But I have one task that must be done here, and I'm afraid that my personal involvement is an absolute necessity. Djinni! Follow me!"

The striped humanoid glared at him. Riqre frowned. It had failed to respond to his first command as well. He'd thought that the newborn hadn't heard him, or that the spell was not quite finished, but it had happened again.

"If I may be of assistance, oh great Riqre." Yulnos smiled at him. "This is the sort of issue we have records of at the testing center. May I be so bold as to offer a suggestion?"

Riqre grunted. "Fine. I welcome any insight you might possess. What do you think the issue is?" Could the binding be flawed somehow?

"As you have said, the Djinni is newly created. This one would hazard the guess that it does not know a great many things - including its very nature." Yulnos rung his hands while he spoke. "The binding will force it to listen, obey, and prevent it from twisting your commands, but it does not provide knowledge."

"What knowledge do you speak of, Yulnos?" Riqre raised an eyebrow. "While the thing is a newborn, it can hardly be called a child. As it is now, so shall it ever be. It understands language. It knows how to move. How to fight. Its very essence is magic, and so that informs it!"

"You are correct, of course." Yulnos shook his head. "But understanding and comprehension are two separate things. One might know of apples. One might have heard a description of a red fruit. Yet, if one has not experienced them for himself, could they identify them by taste? What about by sight? There are green and yellow varieties, which could cause confusion. And, while apples are usually of the same size, variation can cause a great deal of doubt that one holds an apple in their hands - especially if their hands are larger, or smaller, than the details they've been told."

Riqre looked at the other [Slave Master]. It was a long winded explanation, and a poor example, but he understood the intended message. "I see. Thank you for your insight, Yulnos." He bowed at his equal in station before turning to address his recent acquisition. "You are a Djinni. Now, Djinni, follow me!"

The monster made no move. It only glared at him with un-hidden hatred. Oh, how he looked forward to changing its expression! But, for now, it still ignored him!

"Mighty Riqre, I fear you must be even more explicit." Yulnos said from the side while smiling. "'Djinni' is a term that could mean any of the four of them that are currently present. This is why we still have labels for them, to avoid any misinterpretations."

"Yes." Riqre stroked his beard. "I see. Well then." He faced the Djinni again. "Until I tell you otherwise, any time I refer to a Djinni, I speak of you. Nod if you understand." The Djinni nodded. "Good." Riqre smiled. "Now, Djinni, follow me!"

He turned to walk away, and the Djinni followed.

Laila didn't know what to do.

She didn't know what she COULD do.

She should've known better than to dream. To ever think that she might be free one day.

She'd tried to put the past behind her. Zehia might not have been the perfect Master, but compared to Riqre, she was the Rebel of String. To think that Laila had thought ill of her old position! Being a bed-[Slave] was the best she could've hoped for. It wasn't hard work, and it had been easy to get into Zehia's good graces.

If only she hadn't been forced to flay herself, it would've been wonderful.

Laila swallowed as she looked around the camp of the person who'd bought her. She wondered what Riqre had offered Zehia to buy her. She wondered what had happened to her former Mistress. She wondered what those Djinni had been doing at Zehia's house.

She wouldn't be getting any answers. Riqre's [Slaves] weren't normal any more. Not really. They wouldn't say a single ill-word about Riqre. They couldn't speak a single disparaging remark about him.

Worst, and unlike Laila, they couldn't even THINK anything bad about him.

She shuddered uncontrollably. Would he put her in a jar? Would he turn her into one of THEM?

Laila wouldn't become like that. She couldn't. Even if she decided it was better to abandon her old self and become someone who truly loved being Riqre's [Slave]... she didn't think she could ever truthfully say that she loved him.

No. If he put her in the jar, she would die an agonizing death over the course of days and days.

A part of her thought she'd be defiant, and tell him 'No'. That she didn't love him.

The more realistic part knew she'd say 'Yes'. She wouldn't mean it, but she'd say it on the off chance that the truth stone wasn't working. Or that it would somehow end her torture anyways.

Or.

Or...

She could let herself starve instead. She might not have either the courage or the capacity to pull at her life-thread, but not eating? She could do that. It would only take a moment's bravery to pour out the water and ruin the food. Then, death would come for her - as sure as the sun rose.

Would that be the best outcome? Or would Riqre treat her better?

He wouldn't flay her again. Even if he did, there would be no point to it. Laila still had nightmares about the single, long strip of flesh that was peeled off of her - like one might skin an apple. Riqre hadn't let the [Flayer] cut her skin off in multiple segments. No... it had to be in one single one, so it wouldn't turn back to cloth. So she could feel the entire...

Laila shuddered.

The other [Slaves] looked at her with concern. They smiled at her, and reassured her that she was lucky. A few even welcomed her back.

She looked in their eyes, and felt her stomach clench. She nearly threw up. Some people had smiles that didn't reach their eyes. Riqre was the most obvious example. His [Slaves] were worst. Their smiles reached their eyes.

...And went beyond. It was something beyond infatuation. Beyond love. They were insane, one and all. They not only would do anything for their [Master], but they eagerly awaited any order he gave, just so they had a chance to obey.

Riqre stood in front of his greatest creation to date. The black and white striped woman kept her head bowed and refused to meet his eyes. He gently cupped her chin and raised it so she was looking at him.

"Ah, Laila. How I've missed you." Her expression remained blank, but he could feel a slight ripple of excitement as her body shivered a little. "The feeling isn't mutual, is it?"

She still refused to meet his eyes. He could command her to do so, of course. He owned her. The circlet around her neck was his - through magic and [Skills] - and so was she. He never should've sold her, but Zehia had been a good customer... and quite persuasive in her own way.

Riqre smiled as he turned away and looked over his camp. Things could not have ended better for him! He was sole owner of the youngest Djinni! While it hadn't been his personal [Slaves] who'd performed the days-long ritual, they had watched closely. Even that, strictly speaking, wasn't necessary. People had, of course, tried to add in hidden restrictions or orders in the chant in the past.

Roshal learned from its mistakes.

The Djinni binding ritual was beyond any single [Mage]. Creating or modifying it was even more-so. [Scholars], [Scribes], [Historians], and [Magical Researchers] constantly refined it. The idea that a single contributor could subvert it was an absolute impossibility.

No. The greatest risk was that someone would be so bereft of intelligence that they'd try. Such actions had ended poorly for everyone involved - both the owner and the saboteur.

Still, one never knew how stupid their potential enemies were, so precautions were a must. Riqre smiled to himself. That was why HIS [Slaves] were the best: They truly loved him.

He glanced at Laila again and let out a sigh.

Or, at least, most of them did. The process did not always work. In fact, it did so less than half the time. As such, Riqre was constrained in whom he could use it on. He did not mind loosing any number of [Warriors] or [Pleasure Girls]. He could always make more.

It was the unique people. People like Laila that had survived a process that had only worked once so far. Or people like the young half-elf. Or beings like the Djinni. Risking them in a coin-toss would be wasteful.

Besides, it wasn't like a sentient mass of magical energy could feel the love he demanded and created. However... His smile grew wider. He knew of how to inflict pain on Djinni. Not physical pain. They had no real bodies, so such a thing was impossible. No. He new the secret to hurting them in a far deeper fashion - their memories.

He wondered. Did his Djinni have any memories that it valued? That it would feel the absence of - even if it could not remember what, exactly, had been taken from it?

Riqre paused and then frowned.

No, it was only a few weeks old. That would make his corrective measures both more and less effective. He could destroy a larger percentage of what it knew, but did any of those memories actually matter?

Then again... His smile returned. He could remove them all. It wouldn't take much for it to become a blank slate...

No. He shook his head. The sense of loss would remain. That was the entire point. Besides, one didn't take such permanent action without cause. Not to irreplaceable assets. Doing so could ruin future growth.

He let out sigh and turned to one of his [Loyal Slaves]. "When does the trial start?"

The man looked at him with pure devotion before bowing. "Not for two more days, Master."

"Hmph." Riqre grunted. It would be nice to see Zehia one last time, even if it was at her trial. He didn't need to be there to deliver his testimony. It had already been verified with Truth Stones and [Spells].

He chuckled. It was the 'truth', but not the 'Truth'. Zehia did indeed have a black and white striped woman hidden in her estate. The Djinni had also been tracked back there. Those two details painted a picture all on their own - a false one.

Riqre glanced towards where his next-to-most-recent acquisition stood. It wasn't as if staying for the judgment had ever been possible. The deal he'd struck with one of Zehia's rivals required that the proof be properly disposed of.

...Or at least removed from Lailight Scintillation.

It was a shame to lose such a loyal customer, but it was worth it to have Laila back. He never would've sold her if he'd known that she'd be the only [Slave] to successfully acquire the [Flayed Slave] class.

Now, to check to see if he'd gotten any more [Loyal Slaves] while he'd been away.

Zehia seethed.

They had her in chains.

They had HER in chains.

After all she'd done for Roshal. After all the people she'd hunted down for them. After all the problems she had solved that no one else could have!

THIS was her reward?

She didn't bother listening to the counsel that was debating her 'crimes'. She'd been on the other side far too often - as a witness, a counsel member, or the person that whispered in their ears. Nothing she said would change a thing. Only guilty people were arrested - or they wouldn't have been taken into custody in the first place. The decision had been made before her arrest. The only question was whom was responsible?

Jeclai? Lirpid? Russel?

The list of people who held a grudge against her, warranted or not, was longer than the transcript from her upcoming trial would be. No. The question wasn't WHO was behind this - not yet. The question was WHAT she was going to do to them.

Or, perhaps more urgently, HOW she was going to do it.

Zehia had a plan. She always had a plan. Even before she'd consolidated her [Class], she'd been meticulous in her contingencies. There was nothing she could do as long as she wore her shackles. They were designed and enchanted to bind [Rogues]. She couldn't use [Pick Lock], [Slip the Knot], or [My Shackles are Yours] to remove them.

Zehia smiled to herself. At least they hadn't under-estimated her in that regard. It wasn't every set of enchanted bindings that would stop a verse-[Skill]. Their flaw was that they were handcuffs. There was a reason that [Slavers] used collars, and it wasn't a fashion choice.

It was, ironically, Roshal's very culture which would see her freed. Only [Slaves] wore collars, and she wasn't a [Slave] yet - not officially until the trial was done. The outcome might already have been decided, but no one would dare set the precedent of collaring a non-[Slave]. Not in public.

If she had been in charge of her own sham of a trial, slapping a proper Slave's Collar on the 'defendant' would've been her FIRST move. Who cared if they got the [Slave] class a few days early? That was every arrested person's fate.

That, or death. Either way, it both didn't matter and left no evidence.

Well, no evidence except for witnesses that might've seen her do it. It was obvious to everyone involved that any testimony or confessions they tortured out of her would be worthless. She'd gotten a [Skill] to passively resist such things a long time ago.

Passive [Skills] - another flaw in her shackles that she could've exploited. Assuming, that was, that she'd had the right [Skill].

No. Her freedom was never in doubt. They might take everything else from her: her house, her slaves, her position, her money. They couldn't make her a [Slave]. She wouldn't let them. There was only one reason why she hadn't escaped yet.

Well, two reasons. The first was that she wanted to get them to lower their guard. That wasn't, strictly speaking, necessary. The second, and most important reason, was to find out who'd orchestrated this sham of a trial.

Oh, she was sure she was guilty of at least a few of the charges they'd brought against her. Who wasn't? The Emirs couldn't rule unless they had the... official ways to handle their opponents. At least in most cases. Dead gods, she'd done their 'unofficial' dirty work for them plenty of times to know how things always turned out.

The 'official' rules for treating [Slaves] were a labyrinth of old laws and new that had been piled on top of one another until everything was both legal and illegal at the same time. Well... ALMOST everything. There were still the oldest laws that restricted some things. Laws that no one would dare cross. Laws that were for the safety of Roshal as a whole.

"Meeria, you only have five more days. Five days to give me the right answer. Tell me please. Do you love me?" Riqre looked at the beautiful creature that his [Loyal Slaves] had lifted from her jar. She wasn't beautiful at the moment, but he saw her potential. How lovely she would be when she accepted her fate. Once she truthfully said she loved him. Once her [Class] changed.

"With all my heart! Riqre, please. I love you so much! So very, very much! Just... don't put me back in the jar. Please?"

Riqre looked down at his truth stone - red. He shook his head. He had been hopeful, but when they mentioned the jar instead of him... it was always a sign that they weren't ready yet. That they had not fully given themselves to him. He glanced at a guard. There was no need for words. All of his personal [Slaves] were utterly devoted to him. They understood his orders without the need for him to speak.

He was the center of their world, after all. How could they anticipate his needs and desires otherwise?

"Noooo! NOOOOO!" Meeria wept as she was put back in her jar. A loaf of bread and a bottle of water replaced the empty bottle from yesterday before the lid was sealed.

Rique only glanced at the previous day's bottle before turning away. It was filthy. Early on [Slaves] tried to put their... waste inside of the provided water container. Some managed to get more-or-less all of it inside. Most didn't. It was a good tipping point. Once the outside of the used bottles was filthier than the insides... the process would soon end, one way or another.

"Next." His guards eagerly jumped to grab the second jar and pried open its lid.

The girl they pulled out couldn't have been more than six. A fine age for training. She, however, hadn't been able to withstand his trial. Riqre frowned. So sad. What a loss. She would've been a great beauty some day. He motioned with his head, and they placed her back inside of her jar.

The remains could be used for something else, later.

"Next." The guards opened the final jar he had that remained of the ten he'd started his journey with. They took out a limp body. Two in one day? That was-

No. She still breathed!

One guard held her by her arms, while the other lifted her head.

"Basnia." He remembered all of his future adoring [Slave]'s names. "Basnia." He gently called to her until her eyes focused on him. "You have two more days, Basnia. Two more days to answer my question. Now, please. Tell me. Do you love me?"

Basnia's head lolled to the side before the guard stabilized it. "..." She spoke, but too softly for him to hear.

"Louder, Basnia. You must speak louder."

She swallowed and wet her lips before rasping out... "y.e..s."

The stone glowed blue.

Riqre smiled and nodded to his guards. They took Basnia away to gently clean and treat her. He was worried about continuing this process so close to Lailight Scintillation. He'd left the boy behind, along with his [Carrion Eaters]. They would've attracted too much attention.

His jars?

His jars had to remain, or else he'd have to waste the rest of the batch. They needed to be tended to daily, and they required his personal touch. Besides, it wasn't much of a risk. No one was allowed in his camp without an invitation. Even if someone snuck inside, unless they saw the actual process... There would be nothing amiss.

Only his devoted [Slaves] and some supplies. And no one would dare search Riqre'ma Medaale's possessions!

He turned to look at his newest possession. He'd expected to see a look of disgust on his Djinni's face. That was the normal response that outsiders had when he took them into his confidence.

Yes. Some disgust was there, but mostly it was anger.

He sighed. It was to be expected. It would take time to shape it into something that was truly his.

Sibby hated this.

Sibby hated him.

She hated him. She hated him. She hated him.

Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

She hated herself almost as much.

It was humiliating to be captured in such a way. SHE was the huntress, yet... she had been caught. What was worse, she had been bound.

If that wasn't bad enough... it reminded her of the bad time. When William had changed. When he'd started ordering her around again.

Sibby had instinctively understood that she was supposed to help William and do what he'd said when she'd first been created. She'd had no real context for anything else. Obeying him felt... natural. Do this. Go there. Tear that person in half... Basic stuff, really.

And, because she'd had no other frame of reference. (That was a phrase Kevin had told her.) Because she didn't know anything else, there was no reason to question William or disobey. It was fine. In fact, it was better than fine! William had taught her so much!

Sibby intuitively knew how to ignore things. Further more, she could react fast enough to ignore things so it was like she'd always been invulnerable to them in the first place. William had expanded on that. William had been the smartest person Sibby had ever known. He'd been a genius. (He'd said so himself!)

Even now, knowing more people... specifically knowing more smart people... She still thought that was true.

She had all the evidence she needed to prove how smart William had been. She practiced with it every day! She wasn't created knowing about gravity. Or photons. Or that matter was composed of waves. William had been the one to tell her that. To teach her.

He commanded. She obeyed.

He taught. She learned.

He had a theory. She proved it.

He was also the one that had taught her how to hunt. Why to hunt. Who to hunt... Which, if she was being honest, hadn't turned out to be that good of a lesson. William might have been a genius, but Sibby had learned he wasn't right about everything.

And even then... He'd grown to respect her. He'd given her good orders, but he'd also given her stupid ones - like wearing clothes. Over time, the orders he'd given had... stopped. She'd ceased to be a power for him to use, or experiment with, or to extract vengeance.

They'd grown into something else. Something better. A way for him to vicariously love Riley. Sibby knew that William had been hurt. He'd never spoken it to her directly. She'd only figured it out because she was so smart! ...And because of the clues he dropped when he went on one of his rants.

Riley had... changed that.

Admittedly, Jack had changed it first. William had been a lot more... stable after Jack recruited her. Stable, but not happy. Sure, Sibby had been having the time of her life, and William got to experience her hunts through their bond... but she hadn't known what she'd been missing until they saved Riley from her boring life.

(At least, that was how it had been phrased to her at the time. Thinking back on it... she wasn't so sure.)

That had all ended with Riley's 'death'. With her and William's shared pain. With Panda's creation. With... Jack's plan. With William's change. His orders. His commands to do something horrible to Riley.

And it HAD been an order. A command she couldn't resist. A reasoning she couldn't follow.

It had been hell.

She'd hated it!

She'd hated it! She'd hated it! She'd hated it! She hated... him.

And now...

She was in the same situation again.

Bios:

Sibby - The Siberian. Now bound to Kevin after he sacrificed his Summoning power to keep her alive when William Manton was killed. Also bound (in a difference sense) as a Djinni. Mostly non-evil these days.

Riqre'ma Medaale - Riqre to his associates - as he doesn't have friends. Roshal knows more about red classes than anywhere else in the world, and Riqre knows more than most. He constantly seeks to shape people by forcing or manipulating them to take certain actions - that their [Classes] will then make a part of them. Evil.

Zehia Maquet - OC. One of Lailight Scintillation's top problem solvers. She didn't get there without making enemies. A saint compared to Riqre. Still not a good person.

Laila Yosef - OC. A [Slave] from a very young age. Has the [Flayed Slave] class. She doesn't like it, and she still has nightmares about how she got it, but it IS a powerful [Class] - in its own way. Can survive having the skin on her head removed. Currently looks like Sibby. A good person, for whatever that's worth in Roshal.

Summary:

Sibby is captured and bound as a Djinni. She is bought by Riqre'ma Medaale who forgoes the 'offer' to test her magical abilities, both out of fear of spying and a need to get back to the women he's torturing into loving him via a system-enforced [Class].

Zehia has been arrested for 'harboring' the Djinni. She's planning to escape and extract some revenge, but is waiting to find out who set her up.

Laila has been taken by Riqre. This is to both remove her as evidence that she was the black and white striped woman at Zehia's house, and for Riqre to get her back. He's the one that tortured her into her special [Class], and now wishes to revisit his failed experiment and see if he can make more [Flayed Slaves] like her.