That night I dreamed of darkness, fire, and betrayal.

Unlike the first day I woke up, this time it was on my own terms. The hut still had about two dozen people in it including Vilmar, but I couldn’t see Lindi anywhere. I stood, making sure not to wake Vilmar in the process, and left the hut to go to the nearest latrine. Once I finished there I made my way to the clearing that roll call was taken in and waited. The entire way back I was using identify to get better at it now that I knew my skill with the spell was so poor.

Something was different about the Demons today almost as if they had had a pair of invisible shackles removed from them. They were taking to each other more and had an energy to their actions that wasn’t present yesterday. But this wasn’t the thing that drew my attention the most. No, that belonged to the statues I had seen on my walk into the clearing.

It wasn’t the first time I had seen them either, but now that I was able to identify them I noticed that they were all called either totem or incomplete totem. Judging by the number of them that were being created, these totems were of some importance and I figured that I was going to need to ask about them if I was to understand why we were being used as labor to make them.

After another twenty minutes or so Vilmar joined me and we waited while more people slowly filtered in and formed the same rows that they had yesterday. Once everyone was present, a Demon began to call out names, strokes, and jobs. The demon that was doing this, however, was not Urik but a different Demon that I [Identified] as Selmet. I looked around and realized that I couldn’t see Urik anywhere, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t on the camp somewhere else.

Eventually Selmet reached where Vilmar and I were standing. I made sure not to move or step out of line since that would mean I was going to the post. So when a foot pressed into my chest and sent me tumbling slightly I wasn’t sure how to react.

Selmet calmly walked over to me and I could tell that despite that his intentions were anything but good.

“Looks like you’re out of line. Shame ‘bout that, you were doing so well after your first slip up yesterday. Looks like it’s ten stokes for you.”

“Selmet, I don’t think that Urik would approve of this.”

“I don’t give a fuck about what that windbag would think, how I treat mine is my business and no one elses. Besides, Urik’s recharging right now so I’m not worried. The fuckin’ totem’s too soft anyway. ‘Keep them all alive and healthy’ he says, ’They’ll last longer that way’ he says.”

Selmet spat on the ground.

“Screw that. We’ve already rounded up all of you, every Deamon tribe we could find and then some, so it’s not like we’re short on labor. Let us release a little stress by strangling someone I say. This war’s played hell on our nerves as is. Not like anyone’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

A sneer filled with pure malevolence made its way across Selmet’s face.

“Besides Vilmar, it sounds to me like you want to join your little pet on the post. What do you say to that?”

The two locked eyes and refused to break line of sight. Even though Selmet was physically smaller by about half a head it felt like he towered over Vilmar.

“I still don’t think that Urik would approve if he found out about this.”

“Hmm. Maybe. Rea, Vilmar, ten strokes and you’ll both be in the mines today. Don’t come out until evening roll call. Bit of a loss I don’t get to do it myself but I have other things to attend to.”

Selmet walked away while waving his hand at the demons that were with him. They came and directed Vilmar and I to the posts with much less force than I was expecting them to use. I was once again stripped of my clothing and tied to the post with my toes barely touching the ground.

Even though I had prepared myself for it, the first hit was once again like fire across my back. My legs gave out on the third strike and I was left handing by my wrists as the whipping continued. It hurt enough to make my mind blank and my vision go white from pain, but it felt halfhearted when compared to the whipping that Selmet had given me the day before and that made me happy.

When the ropes around my wrists were loosened I slipped out of them and fell in a heap on the ground. My legs and arms were twitching spastically and the shaking in my hands had come back. I couldn’t get my eyes to focus on anything and was simply kicked to the side while another person took my place on the post.

Vilmar came and picked me up like he had the day before but I wasn’t in control of my body enough to do anything other than twitch randomly and sob quietly. I could feel my back repairing itself again but it felt slower than yesterday. The possibility of my healing failing from overuse was suddenly a very real concern now that I knew it was a possibility.

By the time we reached the entryway to the mines I had managed to gain some semblance of control over my body. Fine actions were going to be a problem for the moment but being able to move under my own power was preferable in my opinion. Vilmar had picked up my dress and I was happy to have the tatters covering me again since they made me feel less vulnerable.

I followed quietly behind Vilmar as he went inside a shed. When he exited he was in possession of a rusty pick and a battered metal lantern with a small jar filled with a yellowish gel attached to the bottom. From there he went to an area that had crudely hammered out metal carts. There were fifteen of them sitting there but it was apparent that there were several dozen more when the mines were empty of workers.

He then placed the items inside the cart before picking me up and placing me inside it. The interior of the cart could easily hold ten of someone my size and I stood griping the sides while Vilmar wheeled it towards the mouth of the cave.

Our journey deeper into the earth was silent aside from the deafening clatter of the cart caused by the rugged ground it had to traverse. The light I had become used to quickly disappeared and was replaced with a stifling darkness that made my skin crawl. Even with my dark vision I was unable to see anything aside from the dull red that was Vilmar and the deep black blue that had to be the cave walls. At some point I started to shiver and knew that I was going to have to ask Vilmar for help if I started to lose health.

The cart clunked and stopped forcefully, throwing me off balance and into the back of the cart. I couldn’t see Vilmar aside from the heat he was creating but he was coming closer and that meant we might have reached where we needed to be. He leaned into the cart and rummaged around for a moment occasionally brushing against me while trying to find something.

“[Ember].”

A blinding spark of fire formed in the hand that was in the cart. It radiated a bright red and I could feel the warmth that it was creating despite it’s small size. Vilmar grabbed the lantern and held the flame to its wick. When the lantern was lit, he pulled it and the pick from the cart and placed the lantern on the ground next to the cart, removing the brief bit of warmth that I had been enjoying.

“I…Um, I have a few questions. If that’s okay.”

“That’s fine, but they’ll have to be quick since I’m going to need to start working soon and it’ll be too loud to talk after that.”

I knew what I wanted to ask and decided to ask in the order I found to be the most important.

“It’s cold here, cold enough to kill me and I’m not going to be able to stay next to you to remain warm. The ember spell you used was warm, would it be enough and can you teach it to me?”

“I agree, the cold’s an issue. Ember will help for a little bit and so will sitting next to the lantern but the mana cost of keeping ember active will drain you pretty quickly. If you want to do any magic you see me use at this point it’s not hard for you to learn it on your own. Just say the word or words and think of what you want them to do. Remember that intent is everything. Also, be careful not to burn yourself. Next.”

“The statues between the sleeping hut and the post area. I identified them and they were all called a totem even if they weren’t finished. Selmet also mentioned that Urik was a totem. Why? What are they?”

“That’ll take too long to explain right now so just focus on keeping yourself warm with ember. Once I need a break I’ll tell you about totems. Anything else?”

I though about asking Vilmar if he thought my regeneration was on the verge of failing but decided against it. It wasn’t something I wanted the answered.

“No. That’s it for now.”

Vilmar nodded and began to swing the pick at the wall we were next too. I couldn’t tell exactly what he was looking for but, after focusing on the area the pick was hitting and using the sparks for light, I could make out a slightly discolored vein of another rock running through the wall. This must be iron and a use of identify confirmed it. Aside from the knife that I had used to peel poetan, I had no memory of ever using something like it; I wasn’t even sure the knife I used was iron. I knew that our tribe hadn’t used metal; everything came from animals and plants.

I struggled to get out of the cart and successfully managed to hurt myself by falling out of it. The ground was cold but not as cold as the cart was which meant I wasn’t gong to freeze as fast as I feared. The lantern’s light was a soft orange glow that cast itself in the small area Vilmar had chosen to stop us. It wasn’t great but it allowed me to make out Vilmar, the cart, and the walls even if most of the details were lost.

As for warmth, it was okay. Not as good as a person, but better that anything I was able to do by myself. With the idea of a small fire in mind I started trying to cast the ember spell into cupped palms.

Most of my initial tries were met with failure and by the time Vilmar took his first break I had only managed to briefly see a single spark of light. I waited for Vilmar to sit against the wall before crawling into his lap.

“So. Totems, where to start on that one.”

“I have another question before that. Why didn’t you use the light spell that Lindi said the miners could use?”

Vilmar sighed and sat down beside me.

“Because I can’t use it. Not everyone can use every spell. Could I try? Sure. But chances are high that I’d never see any results no matter how much I practiced. There are spells like that for everyone where they just can’t get them to click in a way that lets them use it. For you it’ll most likely be spells revolving around cold or ice.

“You have a good understanding of what those are but you instinctively don’t like them. They go against what you naturally look for in a spell because you’re coldblooded and these spells would rob you of your warmth. Is there a chance you find spells that you can use that fall into this category? Of course. But again, you’ll be hard pressed to make any actual progress when trying to get better at them.

"Fire though. That’s something you’re practically bonded to. You want fire because it naturally provides what you desire on a physical, mental, and instinctual level. Not the light it produces, just the heat, the warmth it gives. Darkness is something we are naturally attuned to as well because of out Deamon heritage.”

“Then why does the darkness in these tunnels feel so bad? Like I’m not supposed to be here?”

“Because people have died in these tunnels. By the time they’re found there’s usually nothing left but a pile of bone metal. Its spores are in the air here and even you’ll have problems if you’re exposed to them for too long. Right, I need to get back to work. You’ll get the ember spell soon so just keep at it.”

I could hear Vilmar’s bones creak in protest as he stood, a definite sign that this work was hard on him. We had only been here for maybe an hour at most and already he was exhausted. There was suddenly a very real worry of only one of us leaving this cave today and I didn’t like that idea in the slightest.

The hammering of the pick against stone continued as I struggled to start a fire and keep it burning. There was a pressing need to get this right soon since I was beginning to lose feeling in the tips of my toes and fingers. My concentration was broken by the sound of stone hitting the ground and I looked to see that Vilmar had finally broken off a large chunk of stone containing iron.

“Rea, I’m gong to break this up a little. Can you either lift or roll, whichever is easier for you, the ones I tell you to, to the cart?”

“Yeah. Do I need to try and put them in? Because I don’t think I can lift any of these.”

“No need to put them in, just get them to the cart and I’ll do the rest. Now I believed I still need to tell you about totems.”

I started to roll one of the rocks to the cart while listening to Vilmar through the occasional sound of the pick striking the rock to break it apart.

“Urik is a totem. That by itself should tell you something about them.”

“But Urik wasn’t a stone statue.”

“He wasn’t you’re correct, but he is right now. Totems are statues that are inscribed with stories that personify them. Magic is then used to bring these statues to life.”

“That sounds too simple. Urik smelled like the other Demons. He acted like them too. How could he just be a living statue?”

“That’s the thing about totems, once the magic that brings them to life activates they’re real. They’re as alive as you and me. They can think, have personalities, fears, and desires; they can deviate from the stories inscribed on them to become different.

“Urik is a hero in Demon folklore. In those stories he’s referred to as Urik the Warden because he never lets anything escape him. It’s the main reason he’s here at this prison camp. But in those same stories he is described as cruel and bloodthirsty, much different from the calm and calculating Urik that’s at this camp.”

“So what stopped him from being awake then? He didn’t die did he?”

Vilmar stopped talking for a second to catch his breath signaling for me to wait a moment before he answered my question.

“Sadly he’s still around. Totems require mana to function just like you or I require food and water. They can eat and that will help but they don’t require it to survive. It helps fill a little of their fixed mana capacity since it drains a set amount each day. If they use spells it pulls from this pool as well. Once that mana is gone, so too is the ability to remain real, and they return to being a statue.

“When they’re statues, totems gather mana from the air around them and slowly recharge. If the statue is broken they die and if they’re living and something would kill them they return to being a statue and shatter.

“Any new things Urik or any totem has done appears on their statue as more writing and eventually the statue will fill up completely. Since there’s no room to write more of their tale it has to end; that’s how they die naturally. Better masons can make totems last longer but in the end they all run out of room. The real problem is the size of the totem.

“The larger the totem the more that can be on it. The first Demon Emperor has one such totem. From what I’ve heard, the statue is several times that of the huts we sleep in and the entire history of his two hundred years as a ruler only takes up half his head.”

“Then what are they planning on using all of the totems here for? And there can’t be that many stories are there?”

Another crack and the stone split again, giving me another piece about the size of my head to roll to the cart.

“The stories can easily be changed and having multiple totems with the same story is fairly common. It’s what happens to the totem after it’s been created that determines how its personality continues to develop. So yes, you can have hundreds of the same totem and let’s say that the story you write on it is that it’s a soldier. Not just any soldier, but a fiercely loyal one that will fight until the last man. Now imagine that you made such a totem loyal to your country and that you were at war.

“That’s why we’re here. Those are the totems that we’re making because they make good front line fodder. Most battlefields that I know of are littered with the broken remnants of stone soldiers some large enough to house an entire tribe. People still have to fight though and it means that there are people like us that end up as victims of the conflict even if we wanted nothing to do with it.”

“But how can this be okay? Why are they allowed to do these things?”

“They can do them because no one has told them they can’t.”

Vilmar picked up one of the chunks and hefted it onto his shoulder and brought it to the cart.

“But what about their gods or goddesses? Surely they’ve said not to do it?”

“How many stories of Isra and Asra do you remember?”

“Honestly not very many, one or two at most. But I know about them.”

“Then it also shouldn’t be too hard to realize that they are stories built on half-truths. Most of them are fabrication and we know this. But they exist for a reason. Because Isra and Asra were real and our ancestors did meet them. But Rea, everything in this world dies, even gods.”

“So you think there are no gods left? No one that will help us? That our goddesses are gone?”

“If they still live then they missed their chance to save our people long ago. We’re a shadow of our former numbers. There's only a few dozen of us left from your tribe. Did you realize that? That not everyone here is from the same tribe?

“When Selmet said they had gathered all of the Deamon people he meant it. They’re all here in this camp. All of us. Every relative, every sister tribe, every rival, there are no longer any tribes in this land that have not been found and brought here to work till they die.”

“And how can you be so sure of this? That we’re it and there’s no one else out there still?”

“Because I Know Selmet and he is ruled by his pride. He takes pride in the fact that we’ve been rounded up like animals. To him it’s a personal conquest to watch every last one of us work until death. He’s done it too.”

I could feel myself beginning to tear up.

“So you think this is it? That there’s really no chance of ever getting out of here? That we’ll all die in this camp?”

“No Rea. You’ll survive, as will a few others because you’ll be useful even after the war is over. But I don’t have any delusions of making it out of this myself. Men don’t survive war.”

Once he said this, Vilmar stopped talking and continued to work in silence leaving me to my thoughts. He smelled of anger and I was afraid that it was directed at me. I didn’t want to think about what he had said or the thought that I had inadvertently isolated myself from him so I didn’t. I focused purely on getting the ember spell to work so that way I could try and return feeling to my feet and hands.

I continued to try and cast the spell without putting any real feeling into it. The cold I felt both inside and out was consuming me and it was almost too much effort to fight against it. If I was to survive was there really no way that Vilmar couldn’t survive as well?

It didn’t make sense to me why I would be kept but he wouldn’t be. I wasn’t strong or smart. I couldn’t remember anything that would be of use to anyone while Vilmar had these qualities in spades. What made me worth keeping, what made me worth the effort that Vilmar and Lindi had continuously put into me?

Even when I successfully managed to cast the ember spell I couldn’t celebrate what I had done. The action felt meaningless if there wasn’t going to be a purpose behind it. I continued to sit in silence, watching the shadows cast by Vilmar working and took the time to really sit and think about everything that I had learned, seen, and experienced in the last day and a half.

Things weren’t good here and so far I had only been concerned about trying to learn and survive. But I was doing that for myself not for someone else. Vilmar and Lindi both worked themselves to the bone, I could see them do it, and yet they still found the time to care for someone that wasn’t them, for me.

They had no reason to do it other then the belief that I would be able to survive and continue to live. So they had hope. They were like the people that sat quietly letting themselves get pushed around because they believed that they would eventually be let free when the work was done. Both of them had chosen to put their hope in something that could work though, something that had a chance, but this was only true if I was able to continue living once I either escaped or was let go. And if I was going to survive it meant I needed to be strong.

But I wasn’t strong. I was weak and slow when it came to physical activities and the only magic I knew and could use was to gather information. What I did have though was the ability to listen and go unseen. People ignored me and I could use that; it was even one of my skills. Knowledge would help me plan for the future and with those plans I could survive.

So for now I would practice ember because I needed too. It was a useful spell but it wasn’t helpful in the long run. Thinking back on my status screen I tried to remember what else I could work on while waiting to leave the cave. The only thing that came to mind was mana detection and mana manipulation. I could try to practice them but they felt out of my reach without proper instruction.

But thinking about it, I had already detected mana once before. It had been suffocating just like the darkness in the cave was. There was a chance, a small one, that the cave was actually just rich in mana and that was what made us feel uncomfortable. I had no way of confirming this and Vilmar could sense mana so chances of it being true were low.

There was still a way for me to detect mana though, even if I couldn’t do it with the ambient mana. I was casting a spell fueled by mana and ember was constantly being fed mana as long as I used it. Which meant if I just tried to feel my connection to the fire it wouldn’t be as suffocating. I knew what it felt like too, it was the feeling of something leaving my body that I couldn’t get back by healing.

I looked for that feeling, that connection between me and the lick of fire in my hands, until Vilmar knocked another large chunk of iron off the wall. When that happened I went and helped move the chunks he broke off over to the cart and watched as he lifted them in, straining with some of the lager ones. I wanted to do more to help but I doubted I could even lift the pick let alone swing it.

After the brief break, Vilmar went back to mining and I returned to trying to locate mana. This time I closed my eyes and started looking for the feelings before casting the spell. When I felt the loss of my own energy I followed the feeling the best I could and found myself struggling to do even that. When the spell finished I could no longer detect anything being taken from me even though the spell was still being maintained. I continued to try and look for that feeling and finally felt it again but at a much smaller pull than before.

That was how I spent my time until I felt myself nearing my limit for using magic. My ability to feel what I was loosing had become consistent and I was even able to feel it slightly outside my body. I had also finally figured out that this was the mana that was taking my strength from me to fuel the spell.

Vilmar had worked for nearly the entire time without stopping and it felt like over an hour had passed. I didn’t trust my sense of time though because of the lack of light. He finally dropped the pick and sat down roughly against the wall he was mining, most of his anger and energy spent. His breathing was harsh and ragged and I could tell that it wasn’t from only the excessive amount of exertion he had done without rest. I could hear it in how he breathed, like there was something in his lungs.

“Is there anything that I can do? To help?”

“Yeh, yes. Even th-though we’re stuck here,” Vilmar took a gulp of air, ” You should be able to get water. Think you can do that.”

“I think so. Just up right?”

He chuckled to himself.

“That’s right, just up.”

His breathing had steadied so I was less concerned about leaving him by himself but still sat with him for a few more minutes to make sure he would remain fine.

I wasn’t going to be able to see at all to get out without light and I refused to take the lantern with me. I wouldn’t want to be left in this darkness by myself and I wasn’t about to leave Vilmar in it. That meant I was going to have to provide my own light and ember was to tiring to keep up for a long time.

“Vilmar, what’s the word the others use to make light?”

“It’s just light.”

“Got it. Thank you.”

Ten tries and I had a light. I felt like I had much more control over this spell than the others I used and that was due in part to using mana detection to refine the intent behind my words. The light itself was about the size of my fist, dim, and the color of fire. It hovered where I wanted it to meaning I had some control over it after casting it.

With light in hand I made my way to the surface as quickly and as carefully as I could. I didn’t remember Vilmar making any turns but still found myself coming to intersections that I was going to need to remember on the way back. After about five minutes of walking I was finally able to see light that wasn’t mine.

The mouth of the cave was just as empty as before and I realized that I had no idea how much time we had actually spent in the tunnels. When I exited the cave I looked up to see that the sun had barely finished cresting the horizon and had yet to begin its journey across the sky. It dawned on me that I was going to be on the post again today. I wasn’t going to meet quota since Vilmar was doing all the work and even if that was fine, I was now going to have to leave the cave to get water.

A subtle itch on my back told me what I instinctively wanted to do and those instincts had been fairly good so far. I decided to ignore them and exited the cave fully knowing I was going to be put on the post for it. There was a chance I could talk my way out of this but it wasn’t likely.

Finding the waster wasn’t hard to do and, with two canteens in tow, I headed back into the cave. My trip down the tunnels was slower this time due to the extra weight but they gave me a chance to look at the walls.

There were no distinguishing features between the different stone faces since the marks of a pick was present on all of them. It was the bone metal on the ground that was new to me. Vilmar had said it was a fungus and this was the first time I had see it actually acting as such. There was a thin layer of it on a section of floor along the wall I was walking past. Small red buds protruded from the top of it and I could only assume that this was why there were spores of it in the air.

Vilmar had mentioned that these spores could permanently hurt even me if I was around them for long enough and I increased my pace until I was well past the area that the bone metal was growing in.

When I returned to the area Vilmar had stopped us, I was relieved to see that he was still resting and hadn’t moved on to filling the cart with iron. He took the canteen I offered him and drank from it greedily and I was glad that I grabbed a second one for later or possibly right now. Vilmar stopped drinking and recapped the canteen and handed it to me.

“Back to work I guess.”

“Anything else I can do?”

“Nope. Just help with the iron when you can.”

I nodded and helped move the bits and pieces that I could while Vilmar broke the chunks down again. When that was finished he returned to swinging his pick at the wall and I returned to my place by the lantern and cast ember. There was little to do but wait for the intermittent drain of mana and after another cycle of Vilmar creating rocks I felt something about the spell change.

Casting it was the same as before, but now the drain I felt seemed smaller than previously. It wasn’t by much and made detecting the mana fueling the spell harder, but it was still a welcome change if it meant that I could stay warmer longer.

After three more times of helping move iron to the cart and nearly exhausting myself completely of mana, I felt like I had made a little bit of progress. Detecting mana inside my body and following it as if left was a little easier to do even though I still couldn’t follow it outside myself far enough to sense the flame I was fueling. I needed time to recharge and recover mana before I could use any more magic but fortunately, we needed to take the cart back up to the surface since it was filled.

My trip up had been empty and fairly quick, but the same couldn’t be said for the return trip now. Vilmar had to push the cart by himself and I was doing my best to light the way with the lantern. The tunnels weren’t steep but they still had enough of an incline to cause problems for Vilmar. I was also surprised to see that there were now more people in the mines and that most of them avoided even looking at us let alone offering to help. It was possible that there was also no one in our tunnel because we had been singled out this morning. Either way I was angry at their cowardice and my inability to help Vilmar more.

When we reached the mouth of the cave, the cart was taken from Vilmar and he was brought an empty one. Without waiting for anyone to say anything we returned to the area that Vilmar had chosen to mine. Once we had returned, Vilmar resumed his assault on the wall while I cast ember to try and avoid freezing.

This led me to discover a new problem. I had detected my initial use of mana just fine, but I could no longer feel anything being taken from me like it had been before this point. I was still fueling the spell so the lack of any mana being taken was a highly confusing but welcome change. The main problem was it put a major dampener on my ability to try and detect mana using myself as the starting source.

I had been having very limited success at detecting anything that was outside my body without feeling like I was drowning and it seemed like I was about to need to find a way to deal with that. Knowing where the mana in my body was going to make it to the spell wasn’t an issue since I had been watching that since I started this practice. The trick was going to be to now follow it after it left and try to just detect the lick of fire in my palm without getting anything else. I didn’t know if there was a way to be that refined in my selection of what I detected and it made me think to ask Lindi about learning to better separate out scents and smells that I wanted from a cluster of them.

The remainder of our time in the mines was spent in a similar way to the beginning; Vilmar would mine and I would help him fill the cart. Then, when the cart was filled we would take it to the mouth of the cave to get a new one. The entire time this happened I was casting ember and trying to sense it and nothing else without any success. Hunger had set in and been quickly forgotten about and I doubted I would notice it again until presented with food; my body seemed used to running on next to nothing.

Right before what was most likely going to be our last trip up, I found that I was once again able to sense mana being taken from me but it was also being replenished at the same time. It explained why I didn’t feel any actual loss because there was no loss in mana, just an equilibrium. Additionally, my ability to sense the fire in my palm was nearing success and I figured that I would be able to do it if I had another few hours with which to practice.

After today though, I was tired, sore, hungry, and knew for a fact that I had inhaled something that damaged my lungs since I could feel them itch as they healed every so often. Our exit from the cave was alongside others and all of us headed as a collective group to roll call. I was getting more orientated as I slowly built a mental map, but there were still plenty of places in the camp that I hadn’t been to yet.

Roll call continued with Selmet calling names and strokes and I watched as he gradually moved down the rows of people slowly getting closer to Vilmar and me. When he got to us he dismissed Vilmar without any qualms but he once again stopped in front of me.

“Rea, you disobeyed the orders you were given and you didn’t meet quota. So for that I’m thinking thir-”

“I left to get water which you didn’t say we couldn’t have.”

I spoke quickly and a few people that had already been dismissed turned around to see what was going to happen. Selmet’s features had schooled themselves into those of barely concealed rage and glee.

“Did you just interrupt me?”

I remained silent.

“No it’s fine to talk. I want an answer. Did. You. Just. Interrupt me?”

I swallowed hard.

“Yes.”

“There we go. That wasn’t so difficult to do now was it? I’ll tell you what, I’ll let the water issue slide since you’re right, I didn’t tell you couldn’t have or get it. But interrupting me, that’s a big no no.”

Selmet grabbed me by the hair and dragged me over to the post, ripping my clothing off of me and reducing it to un-wearable shreds. He tied me to the post much tighter than before and I could see blood coming from my wrists.

“Right then ya’ little bitch, do you remember the three rules Urik told you yesterday?!”

The question was near a shout and I nodded my head weakly before crying out in shock as the whip ran across my back.

“Yes or no!”

“Y-hic-yes.”

“Good. So then if I asked you to tell them to me would you be able to?”

I nodded my head frantically only to feel the whip again. Selmet appeared next to my and leaned in to speak quietly and gently as if reprimanding me.

“Verbal answer, verbal answer. So yes? Or no?”

“Y-hic-yes.”

I managed to choke out my answer and Selmet moved away from me seemingly satisfied.

“What was the first rule then?”

“Do what yo-”

Mid-sentence the whip stuck me again causing me me to stop speaking.

“Come on! Keep going!”

“What you’re told.”

The whip hit me again and I fell, putting all of my weight on my wrists making them bleed more.

“The whole rule; can’t start halfway cause the rule ain’t just that part.”

“Do -”

The whip hit me again.

“Do what you’re told.”

I heard Selmet approaching again and tried to get my feet underneath me but failed. He roughly placed a hand on my head and stroked it painfully.

“Good. Good. Just two more okay. Two more rules.”

I nodded meekly and opened my mouth to speak ignoring the taste of snot and tears. My mouth was forcibly closed by Selmet’s hand, the whip in it jarring me. He held onto my face roughly while talking.

“Not yet. When I say so got it?”

Selmet was holding my jaw and by extension my head in place so I did my best to tell him I understood. He let go and walked away striking my side and leg with the whip as he went. I reflexively flinched and was hit for it.

“Second rule then.”

“D-”

The whip came down hard enough that I saw stars and my vision swam. I involuntarily let out a gasping yelp and was subsequently hit again.

“Louder!”

“Don’t try to esca-Aaaah!”

“So close! You almost had it! Come on, one more try! You can do it!”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath breath only to feel the whip again for not going as fast as Selmet wanted.

“Don’t try to escape!”

“That’s two. Only one more. You’re so close, so very close. Now,” another strike, “what’s the third rule?”

“Stay in line.”

“Very good. See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

I shook my head only realizing my mistake too late and flinched in anticipation of the whip but surprisingly didn’t get struck.

“Learned that one I see. So then, since you’re so confident that you know these rules how about you tell them to me again?”

I shook my head vigorously while frantically speaking ‘no’ in a whisper. I didn’t want to be here anymore, I wanted to curl up in a ball and forget everything that had happened.

“Shy about it huh? That’s okay, I have some good motivation here.”

This strike caused me to black out momentarily and when I came to it was because I had been struck again.

“No quitters here, everyone works till they drop and you’re no exception. Now. Start again.”

I was openly crying at this point and, because of that, was speaking through sobs. Selmet didn’t seem to care and would simply hit me for not speaking clearly. I was made to run through the rules three more times while Selmet slowly increased the strength of each hit to the point that they easily knocked me out with one strike.

By the end of the fourth time through the rules, Selmet seemed satisfied and released the ropes from my hands. I collapsed while twitching and noted that I was lying on mud instead of the hard dirt that was normally there. Selmet hadn’t left yet and instead bent down to talk to me.

“I’ll give you credit for being clever little ginga but that just gets you hurt around here. Now.”

He stood.

”Stand up.”

Even though my body protested and my spasming limbs forced me down a few times, I fought my way to my feet and stood while shaking uncontrollably. Selmet eyed me over and gestured for me to come to him. I painstakingly made my way to him, falling and standing and hoping that I was following his order fast enough. When I was in front of him I stared at his feet, afraid to make eye contact and not wanting to know what was coming next.

“Take this.”

A small knife was held out in my direction. It was much sharper than anything I had used before and I touched the blade very carefully as I took it from him.

“Now chop off a finger.”

I swallowed a lump that had gathered in my throat and looked up at Selmet.

“Go on. Doesn’t matter which one.”

My hands were already shaking and this confirmation only made it worse. I closed my eyes as tight as I could and clenched my jaw before slicing off my right pinky finger and dropping the knife.

“Look at that. She can be trained.”

I felt nauseous and kept my eyes closed, not wanting to see the damage I had been forced to inflict on my own body. I could hear Selmet moving around and stayed where I was.

“Eyes open. Don’t close them again until I say so.”

I opened my eyes and blinked the tears away looking at what Selmet was holding out to me. My finger.

“Put it back on.”

I took the finger from him and held it as best I could to the wound I had just inflicted and watched as the skin closed perfectly as feeling from that finger returned. Once it was on, I flexed it a few times and saw that it had reconnected without any issues.

“See? No need to cry it’s as good as new.”

I nodded numbly, my throat to raw to even make noise without it hurting.

Selmet stood up and walked back towards the remnants of the rows for roll call waving his hand dismissively.

“Heirmiss. Clean her up. She’ll be attending our party tonight.”

“Yes sir.”

The Demon saluted Selmet and grabbed me by the shoulder, applying only as much force as was necessary to direct me where she wanted me to go.

“Oh, and make sure she has something to wear.”