Kaiji’s demon elf eyes were focused and intent, all her skills as a servant to the Prince of Komestra were now put to the purpose of serving her Mistress. She was on her knees in front of the master of the kitchens, but he stared down at her without the arrogant, haughty gaze usually reserved for slaves. His hands personally flew over the crude magically created paper, the sound of the scratching quill as he took her order was the only noise he made whenever she spoke.

The dark purple skinned demon-elf at his feet spoke with absolute authority, like the nobility, and it set the hairs of the free human standing on end, his thick bushy brown mustache twitched whenever she added special emphasis on something. “...And it must be ready within the next two hours. And you must not insult my owner by asking me if she’s OK paying for the rush...” She said it like she was projecting to the back of a large room, her face turned up and her every gesture speaking to the urgency behind her words.

He nodded mutely. Knowledge of who her mistress was had not stayed private.

“Now, when I was last here as a free noble, your kitchen prepared some… truly amazing Komestran dishes, or the hotel did, if you’re the one behind it, then do that again.” Kaiji instructed him with a sharp nod at the end, then fell quiet, and he responded. She swallowed when her mouth watered involuntarily.

“Yes, that was me, I learned my trade at the Komestran Culinary Academy. I’m Komestran by birth…” He replied to her, and he felt his pulse ease when the broad smile formed on her face.

“May I stand, sir?” She asked politely, the tone was formal, perhaps humble, but he felt no way to say no.

Kaiji rose to her feet with the easy grace of practiced nobility, and approached him, She leaned close to his ear, bold in her proximity, he drew the paper on which he was writing back against himself, and a chill ran down his spine when she touched his chest.

She whispered into his ear, “This is for your people… for twenty five Komestrans, if you have any love for your former city… if you don’t want to see it forgotten by time and it’s people remembered only for their strong backs… and the food of your youth be remembered as nothing but slave fare, put your heart into these dishes.”

His breath quickened, his deep blue eyes were passionate pools of endless water, the light caress of her fingertips through the white apron of the master chef sent electric shocks through his body. “I will… your mistress, and those she feeds, will praise it to the skies.” He said softly in turn.

“Good. I knew I could count on you.” Kaiji replied, and took a step away from him. “Send the bill to the room, I will see to it when we leave this place for my owner’s new estate.”

She bowed, backed away, and departed, leaving the slightly overweight chef sweating like he’d been standing under the hot sun or over a hot pot rather than in the cool of his office before a slave.

Kaiji rushed out, and into the streets where abundant noise and shouts were everywhere. “Offense to the Prince! Offense to Pas’en! Punished in the arena!” Kaiji heard the shouted words everywhere, and even had she not recalled the arena from her time visiting before, all she had to do was follow the crowds.

‘The mob.’ She mentally cursed, her lips curling in contempt before she forced the expression from her face. She touched the bronze collar that her owner had entrusted her with. Her delicate fingers curled around it, and she gave it a firm tug, it gave not even an inch. She sighed with relief that she barely comprehended when its security was made obvious to her again.

‘She ordered me to the palace but… if what they say is true, then the Prince will be at the Arena. Will I be punished if I go to the Arena instead?’ Kaiji froze still at the border between the grounds of the hotel and the public street. Her heart pounded in her breast. ‘The hand… the life taking hand… if I don’t obey to the letter… who knows what she’ll do to me?’ Fear roared up, pushed through her veins by her beating, pounding, throbbing heart, like ice it froze her blood to think of it.

It was not her first fear of her new owner, but knowing the letter of the order and the spirit of it, meant obedience was disobedience. She chewed nervously on her tongue, ‘Priceless grew up with this terror… my Priceless… my precious Priceless… just to keep living with this… when you come back tonight, I will give you so much comfort and warmth, you’ll forget the bars of the cage we share.’ The tender warmth of the thought brought a brief tremble to her eyes as she made her choice.

She lifted her chin high so that her bronze collar was clearly visible, and raised her hand high, one of the public carriages stopped slowly. The horses nickered and whinnied, proud, dark fur covered beasts that towered over her, they were clearly of the same line. Atop the front of the carriage was a wood elf with no collar, dressed in formal clothing of bright yellow that was common among public coachmen, he was brusque but polite.

“The Arena. As quickly as you can, no stopping, I must see the Prince as fast as possible.” Kaiji replied and reached for the door of the simple covered carriage.

“Costs extra.” he said with slightly widening eyes when she stated her intent.

Kaiji hesitated and tilted her head back to reveal the bronze collar again and replied haughtily, “My owner would be offended at the warning. Just send the bill to the hotel in the name of Nua Calen Aiwenor, you’ll be handsomely paid, I promise you.”

The glinting light of the bronze, and the haughty tone, along with the clinking in the sack that swung at her side, told him to shut up and drive, more clearly than the actual words did.

She was no sooner seated on the plush bright red interior than the carriage lurched forward at a rapid pace. She saw out the window that others were raising hands, but her driver, true to her instructions, paid them no mind at all.

They followed the swift moving crowd, and she listened as best she could, her long elven ears twitched at the open windows as bits and pieces of rumors formed a story for her about what happened.

Most of all though, she kept her face forward and avoided looking out at the bloodlust of the mob that was going to watch suffering begin. She shivered, but could not shut her ears the way she could shut her eyes.

The sun shone down over the city, the streets were barely damp anymore, the passing of the worst of the rainy season still lingered, and the great star overhead that gave them the day and hid to make the night, slowly dried out the once drenched world. “Damn them. And damn everything. If only blood was like water, disappearing when it dried…” She cursed the vicious nature of the many races she saw flocking as one people in the same direction as herself.

But she did not praise her race. ‘Sobella will be there.’ Kaiji swallowed heavily, the bloodlust of the former slave was not less in her mind, than that of the humans, goblins, orcs, or other races. ‘Maybe I’m the strange one.’ She mused as they drew closer. ‘Probably so… hypocrite.’ She chuckled as she thought back on her approach to war, and the way the Servile war had been fought. Her hand touched her collar again in idleness as the memory of that conflict came to the fore.

But her blank face would have told none of her thoughts, though the tremble of her fingers before they fell into her lap where her other hand waited to hold them, to squeeze them, and to not let go until she reached her destination.

She emerged from the carriage, taking up her burden, she ate up ground with long strides. Weaving her way out of the crowd that headed toward the great arches of the public entrance, and going instead to the only guarded way in. The arena was not massive, holding only a few thousand, but it did have a single private box for the Prince and a few guests. Two human guards holding halberds and wearing steel full plate armor blocked the way.

Their halberds closed together, the heads of each crossing each other to create a barrier to entry beyond the sharpness of their blades. “Royalty and guests only.” The guards said in unison. They were large, powerfully built males easily twice as broad and muscular as the average.

“He is expecting me. On behalf of my mistress.” She clarified and raised her chin to reveal the bronze around her throat. They still didn’t move.

“With this.” She said softly, and held the sack out, taking the top in both ends, she opened it, they looked down, and she heard them suck in their breath.

“I don’t want to keep the Prince waiting. Nor the woman from whom these came.” Kaiji said formally, and the halberds gradually returned to their upright position at their sides.

The two humans traded looks of doubt.

“Go on, search me.” Kaiji said quietly, and closing her eyes, she waited. She felt the hands moving over her back, the warmth of a human touch as it lightly tugged through her night dark hair. The fingers that moved over the belly of her garment, and even beneath and around her breasts. She parted her thighs, and felt the patting hand pressing against her flesh. Her pulse raced, her eyes shut tighter. Her hand almost moved on its own to touch the bronze around her throat again. ‘He’s just doing his job… this isn’t the auction block, you’re not stripped. You’re not ashamed. You’re not. You’re not. You’re not. They’re protecting their Prince. That is all. That is all. You never have to be afraid of worse, you’re safe. She’s protecting you.’ Kaiji reminded herself and waited while hands dug through the sack of coins in search of a weapon that was not there.

Finally it was done. “You’re clear.” He said in the clipped, professional voice of a guard who took his job seriously.

He leaned into the dark rising stairway, and grabbing a rope that dangled near it, he tugged. At the top of the dark walk up, a door opened and light flooded the way down, illuminating the wooden stairs all the way to where they stood.

“Th-Thank you, Sir.” Kaiji said a little less crisply than she intended, and made her way up where another guard’s silhouette stood waiting.

The echo of her footfalls was like a gentle rain accompanying her journey to the top. She touched her collar again, and picked up the pace, walking with dignity and confidence until she reached the top and the guard stepped aside.

The Prince, predictably, was on his feet with his back to the arena, with Sobella’s arm wrapped around his waist.

Kaiji wasted not a word, she approached a few paces away, and knelt on the stone, bowing her head low, the chill stone cooled her knees, and she raised the sack of coins. “My mistress commanded I deliver this into your hands, Prince of Pas’en.”

She couldn’t see with her eyes on the stone, but she didn’t need to, she heard the clink of armor and the fall of heavy boots as a guard approached at what must have been instruction, and took the sack of coins from her.

She felt the eyes of the Prince on her, but she felt no wrath or contempt, she felt only a sense of pity, sadness. “Sobella, would you like to?”

Kaiji prostrated herself with her forehead to the stone, her hands cast out before her, but she heard the sound of Sobella’s footsteps, slow and easy, a woman never in a rush, arriving when she wished.

She felt the gentle touch of a feminine hand on the horn that emerged out of the right side of her head, and felt Sobella trace her touch forward to the tip near where Kaiji’s forehead began.

“It’s OK, raise your head.” Sobella whispered, and Kaiji looked up, a small dark wooden box was under Sobella’s right arm. Kaiji looked up higher, there was a fragile look on the woman’s face where tears had obviously been falling, and skin still trembled.

Sobella laid the box on the floor beneath Kaiji’s face. Her small, feminine hands both found Kaiji’s horns then, and with a tiny, insistent tug, she drew the face of the woman of her race up further. Kaiji’s eyes became wide at the powerful gesture, Sobella lifted her chin, showing the throat that was completely bare, and then lowered her chin again. Her voice was cracked, far from the silken playfulness she always had to herself. “Here it is. With this, your mistress has her great estate, and her title. A formal ceremony… another time. The key is here, you know the place.”

Kaiji searched Sobella’s face, the shimmering red pools of her eyes that mirrored her own, the fingers that had given that tiny intimate tug from one demon-elf to another, had the faintest tremors to them. The free woman looked to the slave, and her hands cupped Kaiji’s cheeks.

“Everything will work out, you’ll be alright, do you believe me?” Sobella asked, and her fingers tensed a little against Kaiji’s cheeks.

“I… my Lady…” Kaiji began to answer humbly, and she felt a tiny touch of sharp fingernails in her skin, Sobella sniffled and brought her face closer. “You will be alright. Do you believe me?” Sobella gritted her teeth as she stared into the eyes of the fallen woman.

Kaiji bit her lip, but nodded in a tiny, urgent acceptance of the words of the Prince’s paramour.

Sobella sniffled again, then removed her hands and wiped her face, giving the former great noble a fragile smile again, she got to her feet. “Stay, if you want… but if your mistress requires you…”

Kaiji slowly rose to her feet, taking the document conveying nobility and everything that went with it, gently into her hands. The Prince returned to his throne, and was leaning forward watching intently at whatever took place beyond the rail.

Screaming suddenly filled the air, the sound of ravenous dogs, ripping, tearing flesh, more screaming. More desperate, horrible screaming as flesh was ripped apart. Kaiji winced, and dared venture a step or two closer so that she could see what was happening.

She ended up regretting it for the rest of her life. A man staked out with adamantite chains, naked but for those bonds that drew his body spreadeagle, and hungry dogs tearing at his flesh, everywhere… again… and again… and again. He howled in agony, only for healers standing on a raised platform a few feet away, to take turns healing his wounds, so that he would not die.

‘Basic healing spells, and there must be a dozen casters up there… at least. And are those… the robes, more waiting below for their turn.’ Kaiji shuddered at the bloodlust she felt coming from the Prince, and that of his mate. In the stands, the cheers that began with the first scream, were already fading away as bloodlust from the crowd in the stands, gave way to slowly building horror.

Serious, grave, even pitying expressions took the place of blood hunger, and as Kaiji’s presence was no longer noted, she withdrew, accompanied by silence and screams from a place of blood that would never wash clean, no matter how many times the stars cast rain down over it.