“Fuck! I hate that man so much. I’m sure you feel the same, not that you’ll say anything after what you just went through. Selmet likes to be the smartest one in the room; remember that in the future, it’ll save you some trouble.”

We were walking in a direction that I had never been in before and I was silently adding it to my mental map. After walking a little ways away from the post yard Heirmiss stopped me.

“Let’s get a quick look at you to see if we need to take you to Gerin.”

As she first touched me I flinched back causing the Demon to mutter some curses under her breath. Afraid to anger her, I tensed myself and stood still while she ran her hands over me. I was cold, hurt, and very, very uncomfortable, but I was not going back on the post and did everything in my power to stop myself from squirming even when hands found themselves in places I didn’t want them.

“Fuck. He’s completely broken another one. How the hell did that bastard end up in charge?”

I kept my mouth shut since it was clear that I wasn’t being addressed. I found myself whimpering nervously when a hand found itself between my legs but relaxed slightly when the hand continued downward to check the areas that the whip had hit when it wrapped around my leg.

“I’m not going to hurt you so you can relax a little.”

I obeyed and forced myself to relax a little but at this point the tension in my body was the only thing keeping me standing. Heirmiss sighed and continued to talk to herself as she turned me around and checked my back.

“Join the army they said, earn a name for yourself they said. I didn’t join the army of this, I joined to fight for my country not became a fucking slaver. Why do I always get the shit jobs anyways? Hey kid.”

I made a small noise of acknowledgement and that seemed to be enough to pacify her.

“What the hell did you do to piss Selmet off so badly? Been a long time since he ever went that hard on someone.”

“Got some water.”

My voice sounded small, subdued, and incredibly hoarse to me but Heirmiss didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Really? Selmet must be cracking then. Never seen him go off on someone for something as stupid as that. ‘Bout time too, would love for someone else to replace him.”

I mentally echoed the sentiment but figured that it would be better to keep my opinions to myself.

“Hmm. Wounds are healing but it’s a little on the slow side. Hey kid, turn around and tilt your head forward.”

I did as asked and resisted the urge to pull back as she started to move my hair around as if looking for something. I felt her touch my horns and had to hold myself back from hissing at her. That was a sure way to end up on the post again.

“Pyramids; so that’s what? Nooix tribe? Or at least some of that lineage. Damn shame really. Such interesting people when you get a chance to study them. Head up mouth open.”

A finger was put into my mouth and run along my teeth and I struggled to resist the urge to bite down as hard as I could and an even stronger urge to gag. This woman was treating my body like it was her plaything and it was highly uncomfortable.

“Yeah, those are hollow fangs in there, so definitely some Nooix in ya. Didn’t see the start of a tail and you don’t have any pubic feathers yet, but I’d put money on it that that’s the tribe you’re from. Fucking bird people were a pain in the ass to catch not that it really matters anymore.”

Heirmiss stood while dusting her legs off.

“Right. You look like you’re fine for now and Nooix heal fast so I’ll check you over one more time before you get dressed. For now though just follow me and try not to get lost.”

She set off without looking to see if I was behind her and I followed after as best as I could manage. To her credit, at least she didn’t move faster than I was capable of and I wondered if she had picked her current pace on purpose.

Eventually, the numerous stone buildings and wooden lean-tos gave way to ones made of wooden logs. These buildings were in immaculate condition and it was easy to tell that the residents the housed were the Demons. Heirmiss had resumed muttering to herself under her breath and I was beginning to think that maybe all Demons were crazy, just in different ways.

I was led to what looked like a storage shed and was suddenly very afraid for my life. The shed smelled so heavily of death that I was sure something inside it was rotting but she just continued onwards as if she couldn’t smell it. Inside the shed was clothing of various sizes and shapes but they all had one thing in common, they were made of the same rough canvas material as my previous garments.

Heirmiss started rooting around in the clothing sometimes pulling an article from the pile and looking at it for a moment before throwing it off to the side. She continued to search and I continued to watch since I didn’t want to risk angering her if I wasn’t paying attention when she next called for me. After a few more article of clothing were rejected, Heirmiss finally found one that she was happy with and left the hut while closing the door behind her. It stuck at first but after a few quick kicks it finally closed.

“Stupid door. Right lets see how this fits you.”

The bundle of cloth was casually tossed in my direction and I clumsily caught it. Because of how it had been balled up it took me a few seconds to figure our which end was the correct one to put it on with. This dress was mostly in one piece aside from a few small tears and came down to my ankles. The main thing I noticed was that it was much thicker than the previous dress I had worn, possibly due to being nearly new, and that it had sleeve that were much too long.

With it on, I no longer felt as exposed or vulnerable but I felt vastly more uncomfortable. The dress was big, too big actually and its weight was almost too much for me. The fact that the scents of it’s previous owners still lingered on it only served to upset me further.

“Looks a little big but that’s an easy fix. Sleeves will have to go for the most part too. Hey kid, arms up for me.”

I tried to lift my arms but could only get them part way up against the weight of the cloth.

“Yep, definitely needs to be cut but that’s not an issue. Take it off and follow me.”

I complied and trotted after her as she sped off towards another nearby building. This stone building was much larger than the ones I had seen before and had the smell of water about it. Heirmiss walked into one of the two doors and I followed in after her slightly concerned that I wasn’t supposed to be here. The smell of water got stronger and, after walking through an area filled with cubbies, we entered a room with four large cylindrical holes in the floor.

Without waiting for me, Heirmiss walked over to a corner that held a stack of wooden bowls large enough for me to sit in and carried one off to a spout on the wall. She turned a handle on the spout and water started to come out of it. From what I could see it was actually warm.

“Clever right? One of those academic types figured out that if we stored water in metal barrels on the roof that they would get warm and flow to where we needed it. You’ve probably never used warm water to bathe before.”

We had boiled water if we needed to but that was usually reserved for special cases like festivals eves or those who needed it. I couldn’t recall much more than that but the constant view that I was ignorant of these things was slightly annoying. It was possible, however, that she may have been operating under the assumption that I remembered nothing. I doubted that though as she didn’t seem to really care about the person behind the features.

“Stop standing there and hop in one of the holes. Oh, and leave the dress with me. You can get it once we’re done here.”

I left the dress next to Heirmiss and slowly tried to enter one of the holes. They looked worryingly deep and I really didn’t want to be hurt more today. My speed was apparently not fast enough as I felt a foot on my back give me a strong enough push to cause me to fall in. Much to my surprise the bottom of the hole was softer than stone and felt warm against my hands and feet.

I yelped in shock as water splashed over me and filled the hole up to my knees.

“That should be enough to clean your body off. Do that and when you’re done let me know and I’ll get your back and hair. And make sure you start at the top and work your way down.”

The water was lukewarm but it was better than cold water. I did as I was told and started washing myself the best I could with just the water. Before I had even finished my arms and chest the water had a murky brownish red tint to it. I didn’t say anything and just did my best with what I had. It was nice to have the blood between my legs gone, but I felt dirtier now than I had before cleaning myself off.

“Done.”

Heirmiss stopped what she was doing outside of my vision and came over to the edge of the hole and peered in.

“Yuck. Man you were dirty. Probably still are. Hang on a minute.”

She disappeared from the edge and I could hear the sound of water running again. When she next appeared it was with a towel.

“Come over to the edge so I can get you out of there.”

I followed her command and was lifted out without any real struggle on her part. She then stood and, for the first time since being told to follow her, did I really look at Heirmiss. My head was halfway above her waistline and she shared the similar features of Deamon’s in her ears. She was much thinner than any of the Demons I had seen but it wasn’t an unhealthy thin. There was definitely muscle on her body and I could see it move behind the standard red and gold clothing the rest of the Demons wore.

Unlike Urik whom smelled like a predator or Selmet whom smelled heavily of blood, Heirmiss had a mixture of a few smells I couldn’t place. The smell of blood, sweat, and leather were there as was the smell I associated with most Demons, but, just like Lindi, there was also an underlying scent that I found attractive. A very large part of me didn’t like the fact that there was something about this woman that I liked instinctively, but if was both Vilmar and Lindi had said was true, then this was just something that only I experienced. More than ever I was hoping for a chance to ask Lindi about learning to better control my senses.

While I was looking her over, Heirmiss dried me off. The towel had absorbed the film of muddied water on me and I felt cleaner now that most of it was off of my body.

“Let’s get your back and hair then.”

I allowed myself to be turned and stood while water was poured on my head several times in addition to a hand being run through it. I had begun to shiver because of the temperature of the room and the water on my body, but Heirmiss didn’t seem fazed and continued pouring water on me.

By the time she finished I was sopping wet, freezing, and absolutely miserable. It seemed like Heirmiss had stopped what she was doing and had no intentions of drying my hair so I shook my head to rid it of the water. The action got me swiftly hit upside the head.

“None of that. I’ll dry you when you need it so just stay still. Stupid little animal just like the rest of ‘em.”

The last part of what she said was muttered as an afterthought but it was enough for me to make a final opinion of her. She thought of me as an animal and in turn I would just think of her as a Demon; there as no need for me to try and tell her apart if there was no benefit to it.

My back was lazily cleaned and from how her hands moved over my back I could tell it had fully healed without leaving a single mark. Once she finished, I was left standing and shivering for several minutes while Heirmiss did something behind me. I wasn’t going to turn around since she had already proven that not only was violence in her repertoire, but it was also something that she was fine using.

Eventually I felt the towel that she used go over me again followed by the clothing that was picked out thrown onto my head.

“Get dressed. I don’t have all day to babysit you and you still need to be told what you’ll be doing tonight.”

I pulled the dress off my head and put it on; it fit better now even if the extra length had just been haphazardly cut off with a knife. Heirmiss had already left and I made my way to the door as fast as I could without slipping and falling on the wet stone floor. When I entered the cubby area no one was present meaning Heirmiss had fully left the building.

She was waiting for me outside the building when I exited looking bored and apathetic. I didn’t want to say anything in case it made her hit me again so I stood silently beside her until she noticed me. Aside from the brief glance to confirm that I was there, I wasn’t spared any of her attention as she led me towards the largest building in the area.

This building was made of decorated logs and intricately carved stone, an obvious sign of the importance it held due to the superior craftsmanship it was built with. None of that kept my attention once we were closer since it was the statue of Urik easily twice the size of Vilmar outside the building that drew my eye.

Urik was a totem and thus this should actually be the Urik that was walking around two days ago. When we got closer it was easier to see that over half of the statue was covered in small strange characters that I didn’t know how to read. The same style characters were at the base of the statue and glowing with a slight blue white tint. This all but confirmed for me that this was most likely Urik and this was what a totem in its dormant state looked like if what Vilmar had told me was correct.

I wasn’t given long to look since I was trying to keep up with Heirmiss and I wasn’t quite sure what she would do if I stopped. A set of double doors signaled the entrance to the log building but Heirmiss continued to walk past them and around the side of the building. There was little to say about the exterior of the building due to my lack of interest in it and a lack of aesthetic design in favor of practicality except for the front.

Once we had rounded the side of the building I was led to a single door. Inside was a combination of a storeroom and a kitchen were Demons were scurrying about with various foods that smelled far better than anything I had smelled before including Lindi. Heirmiss approached a clean cut Demon with slicked back hair and a slight potbelly that was busying himself with a large flaming skillet. She had to shout over the commotion to get his attention and even then he didn’t look at her.

“Merix, I brought you another slave for tonight’s affair.”

Merix glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to the food in front of him.

“Don’ look like she’ll be much ‘elp. Too small. Can’t carry ‘nough. Entertainment?”

“No. Selmet’s all but claimed her at this point; broke her today on the post too.”

The man simply scoffed and shook his head in what looked like disbelief while taking the skillet off the fire and blowing on the dish to extinguish it. Once he sat it down on the adjacent counter and covered it, he turned to look at me with scrutinizing sunken eyes.

“Yeh. Y’er a Pip-squeak all right. So ah fetcher then? F’er individual requests?”

“That’s what I was thinking. She’s small and fast enough to do that job and single dishes or drinks shouldn’t be too bad weight wise as long as it’s not like a whole roast or something.”

“N’ah gonna ’appen. Nothin’ of tha’ size this time. Runnin’ low on supplies since we ‘aven’t ‘ad an ‘unt recently.”

Heirmiss nodded in response before looking to me.

“Listen to him. He’ll tell you what to do or give you to someone else who will.” She returned her attention to Merix, “She’s all yours now. Don’t expect any verbal replies. I still think her throat’s raw from all that screaming.”

With a flick of her hair and a wave of her wrist, Heirmiss turned and left without waiting for a reply. Merix sighed again while begrudgingly muttering ‘yes ma’am’. He looked around the kitchen to take stock of it then turned his attention to me. After looking at me for a few seconds he leaned against the stove he was just using and ran his hands over his face before then sending one of them through his hair.

“Fukin’ ‘ell. What ‘m I supposed ta do wit’ ya? Looks like yeh can barely stand. And Selmet claimed ya? Fuck kid, yer better off dead at this point. That man’s ain’t sane.”

He ran his hands over his face again.

“First things first th’n I guess. Yer gonna be a fetcher f’er ta’night. Mean’s if some’n wants some’n specific that ain’t out in the ‘all they’ll get one of yeh to ge’ it from us ‘ere in th’ kitchen. Problem is, ya can’t talk an’ tell us wha’ they want. ‘Ow’s yer throat kid? Try an say some’n f’er me.”

Even though he didn’t seem like he was going to be quick to anger, I still tried to speak only for the words to come out as raspy inaudible whispers.

“Well yeh listen, but Selmet’ll do tha’ ta people. Don’ spare tha’ whip f’er no one.”

While saying this, Merix rubbed his own back before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few small brown bags. The bags smelled of plants and I wasn’t sure what he was going to do with them. He slowly shuffled through them before finding the one he was looking for and putting the rest back in his pocket. He unfolded the top of the remaining bag and pulled out a small dried bulb the size of my thumbnail from it before refolding the bag along the same creases.

“Eat this. It’ll ‘elp yer throat a tad. Don’ chew it, just suck. I’s bit’er but it works.”

I took the bulb from him and, after looking for confirmation that it was okay for me to eat it, popped it into my mouth. He hadn’t lied, it was extremely bitter and stung my throat but once the bulb was wet again I could feel my mouth and throat starting to become slightly numb. Merix nodded in satisfaction before returning to cooking something else, leaving me standing there with no orders or instructions.

Merix didn’t seem too phased that I just stayed behind him and started to prepare a mix of greens in a tangy smelling sauce. It smelled good and looked to have been made in much smaller quantity in comparison to the previous thing he had been cooking. A special order maybe? Once he finished, took it of the fire and set it to the side, he turned around again to focus on me.

“So f’er now yer fine w’ere yeh are. I’ll ‘ave yeh move in a bit once I’m done ‘ere. ‘Ow’s the throat? Bulb ‘elp?”

I nodded and hummed slightly to show that it had had some effect.

“I’s Bulrin’s Bulb. Native ta the moun’ins in ta area an’ further up n’rth. Grows elsewhere but nah much. Likes the cold. But f’er now,” he turned and picked up the pan he had just used and a spoon before turning back to me, “See if yeh can eat any of this. I’s ‘ot but I think yeh know tha’.”

The pan had cooled remarkable quickly even though it had just left the fire moments earlier and I wasn’t one to turn down a meal when offered. I ran into a small dilemma when I realized that I still had the bulb in my mouth and didn’t want to end up eating it by mistake. Putting it on the far side of the pan after scooping the greens into a pile on the near side easily solved this.

Regardless of their smell, the greens themselves had little taste on their own and it was the tangy sauce they were in that brought out a much richer flavor. It was easily the best thing I had even eaten but that wasn’t a hard position to fill sadly. Merix seemed content to let me eat and resumed cooking much larger dished in pans ten times the size of the one I was holding.

I went to take another spoonful only to find that I had already eaten everything that was in the pan eliciting a small whimper of disappointment from me. Merix must have heard me as he chuckled to himself, drawing me out of my hope for more food. I resumed sucking on the Blurin’s Bulb and was happy to note that I could hum without it hurting even if talking still felt a long ways off.

The kitchen was warm so I didn’t have to worry about being cold but I lacked something to occupy myself with until I was given a task to preform. I wasn’t sure what I would be allowed to do but I figured moving to the wall near where Merix was working would be fine and proceeded to sit and hum to myself while identifying various things around the kitchen.

Merix had been nice to me so far and his smell reminded me slightly of Vilmar in much the same way Heirmess had reminded me of Lindi. From what I had experienced so far, it was only a matter of time before I saw the crazy or violent side of Merix and I was hoping that it wasn’t directed at me.

I sat for what felt like a small eternity and nearly nodded off a few times because of the pleasant warmth and smells of the kitchen but eventually Merix did call for me.

“Right then ‘ittle one. I don’ ‘member yer name and He’rmess didn’ remind me wha’ it was.”

I tried to tell him my name and it came out as a gravelly whisper; it seemed like screaming myself hoarse wasn’t something that my healing was going to fix.

“Rea eh? Tha’s good ta know, good ta know. Well it’s time f’er ya ta work and I’ll be taken yeh to the ‘all. Come on now. Follow me.”

Merix left the kitchen by way of a door that swung back on itself after we passed through it and led me through a few short hallways before we arrived at a small antechamber. One of the first things I noticed was that there were several other Deamon in the room. While there were some men present, it was safe to say that the overwhelming majority were women.

There was also the fact I didn’t recognize any of them by look or smell and that they appeared to be in better health signified that they hadn’t had to do the same work as the rest of us. The state of dress they were in was overly skimpy and left nothing hidden with the full intended to sexualize. I found myself running my eyes over a few of them before I noticed what was arguable the oddest addition. Every person in the room was wearing a collar with one of three-colored tags and a different number on it.

While I was left standing where I stopped, Merix left me and walked over to a cabinet on the wall. The inside had a few collars but it was easy to tell the majority of its contents were in use. He took a collar from the bottom of the cabinet and walked back over to me while undoing the clasp on it. I was incredibly wary of allowing the collar to be put on me but it was highly unlikely I was going to get a choice in the matter.

When Merix tried to put the collar on I took a small step back causing him to sigh and make some signal to the Deamons behind me. Two hands found their places on my shoulders and held me in place while Merix put the collar on and secured it. The collar wasn’t pulled tight enough to be uncomfortable, just enough to stay were it was on my neck. Once it was on, Merix started to do something to the front of the collar where the tag was. When I was released, I reached up to touch the collar and was stopped by Merix.

“Ye’ll be able ta take it off if yeh want ta but I’d advise ag’inst it. Just tells how experienced yeh are at this nothin’ more, nothin’ less. Yeh take it off however,” Merix stalled, a look a slight disgust making its way onto his face, “All sorts ah nasty things happen. ‘m sure any ah them can tell yeh tha’.”

He let go of my hands and I still brought them up to the collar and found that I could touch and adjust it without issue. Merix stood and addressed one of the women behind me.

“Tell ‘er what she needs ta know an’ what ta do. Just keep an eye on ‘er and send ‘er back ta me if things get rough got it?”

There was no verbal response so I had to assume the woman nodded as Merix turned and left through the self-shutting door we had come through. Once he had left, I turned to look at the person behind me.

She reminded me of Lindi based on her size and facial features, but, unlike Lindi, she still had a definitively feline tail. Like Lindi, she had a very attractive smell and the clothing, or lack there of, seemed to only make it stronger. The woman gestured for me to follow her and walked off towards the second of three doors in the room we were in. The door was held for me and then shut once I was through and I was gently nudged towards a mirror on the far side of the room.

It was the first time I had seen myself and I had no idea what I looked like. My face was round yet held sharp angles and my nose was small. There was a slight slant to my eyes each with a dark circle under it. Their color was the same as Vilmar’s, a light hazel, and my hair was the same coarse black that his was. I looked scrawny, unhealthily so, and there was next to no fat or muscle anywhere on my arms or face.

I was suddenly able to see all of my body as the dress I was wearing was pulled off of me. Aside from not liking that I had been yet again stripped against my will, I was able to see that my body was in similar shape to the assessment I had made of my arms.

While I looked at myself in the mirror, the Deamon woman had gathered different pieces of fabric and was holding them next to my skin. She eventually found something that she liked because she began to put it on me, attaching bangles to my wrists along with aglets and a cloth strip around my waist. I was still naked but that quickly changed as two strips of fabric were attached to the front of the collar then wrapped across each other to cover my chest before being attached to the cloth around my waist near the small of my back. The fabric was soft but incredibly thin and I was sorely wishing for the coarser material of the dress that kept me warmer.

More fabric was wrapped loosely around my arms and then affixed to the collar and the same was done with the aglets and sides of the belt. My groin was still left exposed but that was changed as one long strip of fabric was pulled under the belt and between my legs before being wrapped over the belt again. Once in place, the woman pulled on the strip of fabric causing it to tighten against my skin and slide between my cheeks, leaving my butt exposed to the cold. I tried to hiss but the action made me cough instead and I devolved into whimpering since it agitated my throat. The fabrics in contact with the belt were secured with a few ornate pins before being left to brush against the floor in front of and behind me, and now that I was covered I felt slightly worse than before.

Having the mirror had, at some point, become a bad thing, as I was now aware of how I looked dressed as I was. I was decorated in a similar fashion as the other woman and was only slightly more clothed because I was so much smaller, causing the highly transparent fabric to cover a larger area. I was uncomfortable and highly uneasy with both feelings only growing the longer I stood there looking at myself. Even with the fabric covering a large part of my body, I felt more vulnerable and naked now than I had when I was truly naked since the nearly see-through fabrics actually covering next to nothing.

I only noticed it because of the mirror, but I was fidgeting with the clothing and shivering but I couldn’t tell if the shivers were from the cold or fear. I didn’t have a reason to be scared, but maybe there was some part of me that wanted to get out of this situation as fast as possible. Regardless of what I wanted to do, it wasn’t going to happen and I just needed to make it through this and it would be over after tonight.

The interesting thing was I recognized the style of how I had been dressed, even if the transparency of the clothing was a new addition. It was ceremonial dress for doing the more important dances and it was being turned into a mockery of its original intent. What was mean to be sacred and special was being turned into a sexualized display piece. We were seen as objects not people and I felt like a small part of me died after realizing this; there as only going to be shame, embarrassment, and discomfort tonight.

“If there is one thing you remember out of what I tell you, have it be that no matter what happens, do. Not. Speak.”

The woman began to speak and it was apparent that she did not do so frequently.

You are hit? Remain silent. Shouted at? Remain silent. Told to do something that is degrading? Do it and do so in silence. See one of us being taken elsewhere? Just watch and say nothing. Touched in ways that you dislike or that hurt? Stay silent. Even if you are told to talk, do not. Silence will keep you safe from the worst of what they will do to you because it will make you boring, a lifeless doll. We are meant to look nice and stay quietly on the sides unless called on to serve so that is what we do. The collar you are wearing, see how it has a number?”

She tapped the tag on the front with her nail. The number was a twenty-seven.

“That is what they will call you by. You don’t have a name here, just a number. You are lucky because you are small. Almost no one will ask for you because of this and that will protect you. So once we leave here you will do what everyone else does. You will wait and be silent. If called upon you will go and do the task that is given to you. Once you are done you return to the wall and wait just like before.”

She stopped talking, seemingly finished with her instructions before reaching down and pulling my hands away from the fabric they were picking on and putting them down at my side.

“Don’t mess or it will fall off and you don’t want that. If one of them pulls anything out of place find me and I’ll fix it for now but you’ll need to learn how to do this yourself if you continue to come here.”

I nodded and resisted the urge to fidget with the cloth again once my arms were released. It wouldn’t help to make the one person who was at least willing to help me, even if it was begrudgingly, stop doing so. The woman walked me over to a desk with a mirror, several vials of colored liquids, boxes with strings of beads inside them, and several brushes. I was sat down in front of the mirror and the woman picked up a wide toothed brush.

“This may hurt a bit since it is clear you are not well taken care of and your hair will have knots.”

True to her word, within the first few strokes of the brush it caught on a snag and was then worked through with a small amount of force. It was enough to cause a few small whimpers but I tried to remain quiet since I knew that it would hurt much worse if more force was applied. My hair was gradually rid of all knots and the woman started to pull the hair behind my ears together into a single long braid that fell between my shoulder blades. The end was tied off with one of the strings of beads and I heard a small chiming sound when the braid was released and made contact with my back.

The woman then moved on to working on the left side of my head, gradually pulling the hair away from my horn and drawing the remaining lose hair into a loop that circled underneath my ear. Once she had done this on both sides, a small set of beadwork was hung off of my horns that intermixed with my bangs and was tied into the top of the braid. I hated the feeling of the beads against my horns, as the irritation that it caused was maddening. My attempt to remove it was met with anticipated resistance and I was told to leave it and that I would get used to it.

While trying to get used to the beads hung on my horns, the Deamon woman dug around in another box and pulled out six incredibly small bells. I didn’t know what she was going to do with them until she gently grabbed hold of my ear that was nearest to her. I felt a sharp painful prick in my ear and when I pulled my head away from her I could hear the juggling of a bell next to my ear. My ear flicked reflexively and the newly attached bell jingled again.

“No bells?”

My voice was small and quiet but it was the best I could do with how raw my throat was still. Despite this, I was heard and that was all that mattered.

“They’re not optional unfortunately; the holes will seal on their own if the bells stay removed for about a week and a half even if the wounds heals over before then.”

I nodded and the woman returned to piercing the bottom of my ears with the bells. I still flinched each time one was attached but I no longer pulled away. The weight of the bells should have been nonexistent, but they felt incredibly heavy. To make matters worse, the soreness from them being pierced was increased by the reflexive flicking my ears did because of the new weight, causing the bells to ring and my ears to flick again in respond to the sounds being too close.

Even after the bells had been attached for over a minute and the woman had moved on to adding small bits of color to my face with the colored liquids my ears still kept occasionally flicking. It was annoying and was by far the worst part of this experience as of yet. The bells hurt, were irritating, and I couldn’t do anything to stop my ears from flicking. If I stopped concentrating on keeping my ears still, they would reflexively flick due to the added weight starting the cycle over again. It got to the point were I simply held my hands over my ears to keep them from moving only to have them pulled away.

“I know it’s bad but you need to get used to it. If you don’t then you can’t be silent and will draw unwanted attention to yourself. So just bear with it okay? It gets better, I promise.”

So far everything that this woman had told me in regards to pain and avoiding it had been true, as I didn’t even register the beads on my horns anymore, so I was willing to let my ears continue to flick if it meant I could avoid worse pain in the future.

At this time, the woman placed a large dab of the colored liquid between my eyebrows and it felt like I had lost access to one of my senses. I started to whimper frantically when I realized that I couldn’t tell how hot things were since I had come to depend so highly on the ability. To her credit, she seemed to realize that it was only the addition of this last bit of color that was the problem and spent a few seconds removing only enough from the center of the drop so that I could vaguely tell what the different temperature of things were.

It wasn’t great and I still felt like I was seeing that information through a thin blindfold, but it was better than having that sense removed completely. By the time I got used to my thermal vision being dampened, my ears had finally calmed down to only flick very intermittently. This allowed me to look at myself in the mirror again and I was shocked to see that I looked so fake, so artificial.

If it wasn’t already clear that the purpose of how I, and the other women, were being dressed up was to be eye candy, then how I looked now solidified that idea. The colors on my face didn’t look out of place and, in fact, it seemed they were chosen to compliment it. The choice of clothing, both in the fabrics color and pattern, and the beadwork on my head also followed this thought process of making me look as appealing to the eye as possible. I was being dressed up like an overly sexualized showpiece that was meant to be sold to the highest bidder and the job had been more than accomplished.

I didn’t like it. It felt wrong on too many levels and there was no good way to hide myself behind these cloths and feel safe. No one would choose to look like we did now of their own free will and I would almost have preferred being on the post again if it meant I could wear my canvas dress instead. There was no other time that I could think of that I felt more exposed and vulnerable as I did right now, and following the woman out into the antechamber with the rest of the Deamon dressed in the same was I was only exacerbated the feeling.

Being around the people that I was now, almost solely women and all of the same race as I was, I still felt highly uncomfortable, a feeling that I was sure would only get worse as the night progressed. It seemed like the few minute that were spent getting me ready were enough for the beginning stages of the party to begin and I was made to help ferry different foods to and from the kitchen with the rest of the Deamon.

Once this task was finished, I was made to line up on the wall that held the door leading back to the antechamber. We stood there for only a few minutes until Demons started to funnel their way in from another room. I could make out maps and various boards filled with writing but I couldn’t read any of it because of how far away I was.

As more people gathered and began to spread around the room, I started to feel like someone was watching me at all times. My attempts to squeeze myself between the wall and the woman who had dressed me were quickly stopped and I settled for trying to cover myself by crossing my arms over my chest and pushing my legs together.

The party found itself in almost full swing before my current guardian noticed how I was standing and my posture was quickly corrected to leave me exposing myself again. In a last ditch effort for some semblance of fictitious privacy; I placed my hands together to cover my groin from view. It seemed as if after the previous time I was being watched, as the quiet yet harsh admonishment that I almost immediately received for this made it clear that I was going to have to weather through the night feeling squicky.

The reality of the situation was that we were ignored for the most part with only the very fleeting glance thrown in our direction. It could have been caused by the fact the party had only been going for a little while and most cases of a number being called were simply to get a specific type of alcohol.

“Twenty-seven, come here.”

A nudged woke me from my half dazed state and I made my way over to the Demon man that had called for me. Leaving the wall and walking into the crowd was like entering a field of giants and it was unnerving. With most of the women I had spent time around, including Lindi, my shoulders came to their waist, but almost all of the male Demons at the party seemed to be at least a full head taller than these women and, by extension, close to twice my height. It wasn’t just the men either, the Demon women were still taller than any Deamon woman I had seen leaving me feeling incredibly small and lost in this sea of people.

When I finally got to the Demon who called my number, I took a quick glance at him before making sure to lower my gaze. He, like most others, was much taller and physically larger than I was and I figured that his height was only slightly below Selmet’s. His clothing was the same red and gold that the rest of the Demon’s wore even if they had been tailored for a more formal setting instead of combat. The hair on his head was slicked back neatly and the short beard on his face was the same. I couldn’t tell if this man had the same smell as Urik or Selmet because the more subtle smells about him were hidden under the smell of booze. It wasn’t overpowering but it was easy to tell this man was no stranger to the drink at the party.

“More Ferinellé and be quick about it.”

He held his empty glass down to me and I took it, scrunching my nose at the overbearing smell of alcohol. Once I had taken the glass from him, the man acted as if I ceased to existed. I had to worm my way through the crowd and back to the wall, but I managed to do so.

Once I was there, I was left without a clue as to what I needed to do. I looked to the dozen or so women that were still against the wall and when I made eye contact with one of them they gestured their head towards the door leading to the kitchen. My walk back through the door was slightly chaotic as there was a steady flow of people moving back a forth between the kitchen and dinning hall.

Arriving at the kitchen didn’t mean I knew what to do next and I instead followed another woman holding several empty glasses. I watched as she pulled several bottles out of a rack and filled the glasses about three fourths full before corking the bottles and returning them to the shelf. Before she could leave, I walked up to the woman and tapped her leg a few times to get her attention. Once I saw that she was looking at me, I held up the glass and tried to repeat the name of the drink I had been told.

“Feri-ferineli?”

“It’s this one here,” she pulled a bottle from the center of the rack, “Make sure to pour anything you get from this rack down the side of the glass and never fill it to the top.”

She sat the bottle on the table next to the rack and left, leaving me with a peculiar situation I needed to address. I was too short to reach the table or the rack and, aside from climbing up onto the table, I didn’t see anyway easy way to remedy this. The problem with the obvious solution was that the ‘clothing’ I was wearing was far from suited to that task.

One of the kitchen staff must have seen me standing there awkwardly because the next thing I knew, a chair was sat next to the table. The person who brought the chair had already left by the time I registered what had happened and I said a silent thanks to them. With the addition of the chair, I was able to get to the bottle and I hoped that it wouldn’t be removed later in the night or after I left.

I did as instructed when filling the glass while doing my best to ignore the pungent smell of alcohol. After I returned the bottle to its place on the rack, I rejoined the flow of people making their way back out into the dinning hall.

Finding the man again was no small challenge and when I did find him I stood next to him with the drink held for him to take it. I stood like that for a full minute until the man’s conversation partner pointed out to him that I was there. He simply took the glass from my hands without saying anything and the lack of a dismissal left me standing there not knowing if I could leave or not.

After standing there dumbly for another minute I decided to try my luck and leave only to hear my number said by the man again.

“Twenty-seven, you don’t leave unless you’re dismissed understood?”

I nodded and the man returned his attention to whom he was talking to. This left me in an awkward position surrounded by people that had no qualms about bumping into me and sending me into another person to be buffeted about repeatedly. In order to avoid this, I stuck as closely as I was comfortable with to the Demon that I was still serving.

As I stood there more people looked at me now than they had when I was on the wall. I found myself moving into a more hunched position to try and hide myself and cover what I could, but remembered that I wasn’t supposed to do that and I had no desire to find out the punishment for it. This left me in a situation where I had to reveal myself and every time I caught someone looking at me I squirmed slightly.

If I continued to watch people look at me I was only going to drive myself mad with anxiety, so I focused on the conversation that my current enslaver was having.

“…Heard news of the thirty second battalion managing to hold a portion of the land we captured near the Iron Dwarf’s mountain range.”

“That’s good, maybe we can start increasing our farmland and solve this famine finally. The war can only do so much to lower the number of mouths that need to be fed.”

“I agree, but Emperor Alikhan wasn’t left with much of a choice. There’s only so much that can be done to feed the populace after ten years of drought and almost no crops making it to harvest.”

“I disagree with that sentiment. There was plenty that could have been done to prevent this war but the Lords and Dukes only care to feed themselves and their wives instead of the rest of us.”

“No, we both agree that the Lords and Dukes failed at their jobs and I’m sad to say our Emperor has been remiss in punishing them. Speaking of wives, how are yours doing?”

The conversation companion took another drink of the alcohol in his glass.

“Both of them are doing well and Cinzia’s pregnancy has been without issue. There was a brief period of time were I thought the two would fight since Santina was angry that she was not the first to get pregnant despite being my wife for longer. What about yours?”

My detainer scoffed and took a large swig of his drink before replying.

“Bah, you know how it is with the three of them. I can never get a say in one way or another and with Ida having just birthed her litter the month before I was last on leave now the other two are clambering to try and be the next one I knock up.”

The other man chuckled at this.

“You knew that going into the third wife Camillo. If you want to wear the pants in the relationship never have more than two wives. That’s why I’ll stay content looking from now on. No need to give the others more scars because I try to handle more than I should. Never works.”

In response to this, the Demon I was in service to tried to take another drink only to find his glass empty again.

“Twenty-seven, more Ferinellé.”

“You should pace yourself old man, you continue at this rate and you be out before the nights come to a close.”

“What do you know? Last time w…”

The conversation fell out of my range of hearing as I fought my way through the crowd. Because I had done it before, I was able to make the trip and refill the cup while thinking about what I had learned. I now knew the context for what Lindi was talking about when she said we weren’t in a healthy enough state to be knocked up anymore and it was the ‘anymore’ that made me shudder. I didn’t want to think about what that meant.

I tried to make my trip to refill the glass as quick as I could not because I wanted to please but because I wanted to hear more of the conversation that was being had. There was a chance I could learn something important if I kept my ears open and paid attention.

Upon my return I debated how to get Camillo’s attention or if I should wait for one of them to notice me. I was going to stay quiet because of the advice I was given so I opted to stay silent and wait. Camillo eventually started looking around for me and when he saw that I was beside him holding the glass up he took it with one hand before cuffing me with the other.

“Next time you get back let me know; don’t just stand there. Stupid bitch.”

The hit to my head had been hard enough to make me tear up and, if what I was feeling with my fingers was correct, make me bleed. I now needed to add a sore head onto my list that already included my arms, legs, and feet. After I blinked the tears away, I looked as Camillo’s hands and saw that the hand he hit me with had rings on three of the five fingers, each of which now had a new red sheen to them.

I continued to stand behind him, fidgeting with different bits of the cloth due to the sheer pressure I felt of people looking at me. In an effort to try and ignore this feeling, I returned my attention to the conversations around me and eavesdropped on one I found interesting.

“I just wish this war would be over already. Staying out in the boonies like this watching over savages is just degrading.”

“You know it’s for the war effort and that it’s been a huge help. Most of the totems being made here go to the twelfth legion and they’ve needed all the help they can get what with the resistance they’ve met.”

“They’re trying to take Human lands what did they expect? It would have been better if we had tried to get some of the Elven territory that borders us on the northeast. Hell, even the Angel’s territory to our far south would’ve been better.”

“That’s a shit idea and you know it. The Angel’s land is nothing but desert and mountains and they’ll fight tooth and nail to keep the oases under their control. And don’t even get me started about the Elves’s casters. Do you think you could create a strategy that survives constant unpredictable magical bombardment?”

“Fine, point taken. But we’ve been in a deadlock with them for over a year now. Seems like there has to be something that we can do short of sending a titan.”

“Twenty-seven, more Ferinellé and bring some Giaza this time.”

I broke myself away from the conversation and slowly wormed my way through the crowd that had finally grown to its full size.

The path back to the kitchen was bustling with Deamons and Demons alike all taking food back to the dinning hall. I made a beeline for Merix once I was back in the kitchen, as I knew that he would at least humor me and listen if I tried to ask for help.

Once I found him, I pulled on the apron he was wearing and took a step back to not get in his way. He glanced in the direction that I was in and looked around for a moment before looking down and seeing me. No words were spoken but he nodded letting me know he was listening as he turned and shouted a few orders to some of the working Demons.

“Gia-giaza?”

“Tha’s easy one. Gimmie a sec’nd an’ I’ll ‘ave it for yeh.”

Knowing that I was going to be helped, I quickly walked over to the area that held the rack of bottles and poured another glass of the Ferinellé. I still thought it smelled awful, but having been around someone that drunk it I was now used to the smell. Glass in hand, I returned to where Merix was and waited for the dish that I had asked him for to finish.

It didn’t seem like a good system for getting food in a timely fashion but, about the time I finished that thought, Merix was handing me a plate with three green blobs drizzled with a brown sauce. The three blobs smelled good and I was able to pick up the scent of cooked meat and the greens I was fed coming from inside it.

With both hands full I made my way back out into the dinning hall and struggled to make any headway into the crowd. I ended up having to take a longer path around to make it back to Camillo and was relieved when I did so and the food was still warm.

My thoughts blanked when I suddenly found myself falling towards him as someone behind me had bumped into me hard enough to send someone of my stature flying. The landing I had was awkward and I more felt the glass break in my hand than I heard it.

The jingle of bells was all I heard as the room went silent around me. I could still hear the sound of people talking but none of it registered for me. I watched as the puddle of the clear yellowish white liquid that had been in the glass slowly spread across the floor while several trails of red quickly mixed into it.

I heard the sounds of movement towards me and looked up in time to have a foot connect squarely with my face sending my skidding into a heap on the ground. My vision was going black around the edges and my head was swimming but I still registered the sight of Camillo’s conversation partner holding him back while telling him he was drunk.

I needed to stand but found that my body wasn’t responding to me and everything seemed to be moving at an increasingly sluggish pace. Camillo was taken out of my field of vision and someone bent down and waved their hand in front of my face leaving a blurred afterimage that persisted. I could hear them talking but all sound was steadily being drown out by the rhythmic yet overpowering beat of my heart. At some point everything I could see just faded to black and I stopped registering anything my sense pieced up.

When I started to register things again, the first sense that returned was for telling the temperatures of things and I was happy to note that I was in a warm environment. I could smell meat, greens, and the alcohol that I had been retrieving the entire night meaning I was back in the kitchen. The combination of a cold and rough texture meant that I was lying on the floor and from how I still felt cold in meant I was either naked or, more likely, was in the clothing that had been put on me for the party.

The sounds of people walking and talking in addition to the clanking of pans and knives came back next and a flick of my ear still resulted in the sound of bells. Opening my eyes flooded them with more light than I was ready for and I had to gradually work my way up to holding them open. When I as able to keep them open my vision swam and it took a few minuets of just lying on the floor for me to see just one image.

I tried to move myself into a sitting position and found that my body was incredibly unresponsive and sluggish. It took a few tried but I was able to sit up and found that whoever had brought me into the kitchen had left me under the table next to the bottle rack. Once more feeling returned to my body, my hand began to itch.

A look at it showed that the glass I was ferrying back and forth had imbedded parts of itself into my hand and no one had removed them. Fortunately, even though the skin had healed, only one of the shards was actually buried underneath the skin. This meant that I got to sit there and try to pull the glass out with my remaining hand. The shaking that seemed to be omnipresent had come back with a vengeance and I struggled to hold my hand steady enough to actually grab hold of the glass turning a simple task into one that seemed near impossible.

It took a lot of patience and pain, but I finally removed all of shards of glass from my hand that I could with the single piece still lodged underneath the skin. I was hesitant to try and push it out and was hoping that I could get Merix to cut my hand so I could pull it out or give me a knife so I could do it myself. As it stood, my dominant hand was now left useless from the damage the glass was causing leaving me to try and use my right hand for everything.

I crawled out for underneath the table and slowly stood until a wave of nausea and dizziness washed over me. My vision swam again and I closed my eyes to wait out the nausea and dizziness. Once everything had passed, I opened my eyes again and finished standing, noting that my neck hurt but was feeling better with each passing moment.

The first thing I wanted to do was find Merix, so I started looking for him and made my way over to him after I found him. Once I reached him I simply leaned myself into his leg in an attempt to not fall over as another wave of nausea and dizziness hit me. I gripped onto his pant leg despite the pain of doing so with my left hand and waited. The feelings passed again and I steadied my breathing so I was no longer hyperventilating.

Merix waited until I let go and was able to take a step back but doing so brought my legs out from underneath me as they lost all of their power. My body still felt heavy and I collapsed against the stove Merix was working at while my breathing increased to match my panic.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. ‘Ow are yeh still up an’ movin’, Camillo accident’lly broke yer neck. By all rights yeh should be dead.”

He quickly looked me over, noticing the wounds on my hand that were still closing up.

“Ah, forg’t ‘bout tha’. I’s why Selmet’s got such an interest in yah. Still, yeh shouldn’ ‘ave survived tha’.”

All I did was let out a long low whimper in response to how I felt about the situation.

“Just stay there f’er now. I’ll get ta yeh in a ‘ittle while.”

I nodded and let him go about his business while remaining where I was. At some point Merix started to talk to me in order to help pass the time.

“Feel bad f’er yah honestly. Yeh remind me of my daughters back home. One of ‘ems about yer size an’ the other’s just a tot. Wives didn’ want me out ‘ere, said it was too close ta the front. I agreed with ‘em but money was tight and this paid well ’nough ta feed ‘em. Miss ‘em all an’ I hate it ‘ere; most of us do.”

Merix paused for a moment to pull a new set of ingredients into his reach and began preparing them.

“What’s been done ta yer people is just wrong but I’m one man, can’t change the minds of every’n. Most Demon think yer lot are below them. Tha’ the fact yeh don’ farm makes yah less then they are. I think it’s a load a bull. I don’ farm but I’m not lesser to ‘em. Nah, this is ‘bout skin color and beliefs. Yah don’ fit the idea the upper folks like so yer animals to ‘em. Yer nah dark ‘nough to be a Demon or light ‘nough to be Human. Yer people believe the moons ‘re goddesses and in love instead’a a pantheon like us Demon’s believe.”

Merix stopped talking for a moment to concentrate on the dish he was preparing before he continued talking.

“It’s a bit weird, two woman lovin’ each other th’ way ah man loves a woman, but each ta the’r own as far as I care. Suppose it’s why Selmet’s so caught up on yah. Yeh don’ like him nor any other man from what I’ve seen of yah, just like yer goddesses. He don’ like tha’, want’s ta make yeh his. ‘Aven’t a clue ‘ow far ‘e’ll go if yah never take to ‘im. Yer important ta ’im caus’a tha’ regeneration far as I can ‘ell. He needs ta ‘urt ‘is mate ta be fertile, all ‘is kind do. Most can’ take it, died from th’ constant abuse but nah yeh. Tha’s why he wants yah. Yer ‘is kind’s wet dream, anythin’ they wan’ ta do th’y can an’ yeh bounce back good as new.”

He sighed as he continued to empty the dish from the pan onto a plate and pass it to a waiting Deamon woman.

“I’s why yer ‘ere e’ery week ‘memberin’ nothin’. Cause he does what ‘e wants an’ it fucks yer ‘ead over leavin’ yah a mess. No one’s meant ta take tha’ kind’a abuse, till th’ bones of yer back are visible from whippin’. Just cause I understand why ‘e’s doin’ what he is doesn' mean he isn’ crazy. An’ you. Yeh didn’ ask f’er any’a this. Jus’ got caught up as collateral. Now then, let’s take a look at yeh.”

Merix had sat all of his pans off to the side so none of them were on the fires and bent down to look me over. He tilted my head side to side looking to see if I reacted in pain to any of the movements. I was sore but nothing he was doing hurt and I held my hand up to him since I wanted the glass out of it sooner rather than later.

He muttered to himself while trying to find out what was wrong with my hand and it took me pressing down on the skin so the indent of the glass underneath it showed for him to realize what I wanted.

“This is gonna ‘urt a bit mind yeh.”

I simply closed my eyes and waited. The bite of the knife was much gentler than when I had been forced to remove a finger and the cut was controlled making it only as deep as necessary. Having Merix try and remove the glass from my hand vaguely reminded me of the bone metal Vilmar had removed when I first woke up. It was painful and there was twitching that I couldn’t stop, but it only took a few seconds for the glass to be removed and the wound to heal over.

With the glass gone, I tried to move my hand and was relieved to see that it was responding to me again. I could stomach pain even if it brought me to tears, but the feeling of having no control that was forced upon me when Selmet drilled his three rules into me was something I was going to avoid ever feeling again.

“I ‘ate to tell yah this, but yer not gonna be able ta stay ‘ere now tha’ yer awake. Yer gonna ‘ave ta keep ‘elpin' out the other women in servin’ every’n out there. I’d let yah stay but then I’d be whipped f’er it by Selmet an’ I ‘ave no intentions ta find myself at the other end o’ ‘is whip e’er again.”

He rose and pulled me onto my feet where I stood shakily trying to maintain my balance. Another wave of nausea and dizziness hit me but it was much smaller then the earlier ones and faded much faster.

Once confident that I was going to be okay moving, I slowly made my way out of the kitchen not because I wanted to, but because the reminder of Selmet and his affinity for the whip was a good enough reason not to linger.

The rest of my time was spent standing on the wall or next to a Demon should they decide that they wanted to use me to fetch things for them. There were a few instances where I was hit for not being fast enough and almost all of them drew blood, but I was never hit with enough force to knock me out again. It seemed like no-one even registered what had happened to me, just another Deamon being punished, and not even the Demon that I was currently serving seemed to care that I was miraculously back on my feet.

Most of the conversations that I listened to told me the same information that I had already learned earlier or it were about some frivolous thing that wouldn’t help me survive. I was ashamed to admit it, but at some point I just stopped caring about people looking at me and my current state of near nakedness. It wasn’t worth the energy or the insecurity that I felt when I recognized the feelings instead of ignoring them.

As the night wore on, the number of Demons present gradually diminished to the point were most of my time was spent on the wall while the few stragglers talked over cold food and lukewarm drinks. There were many times where I started to nod off but forced myself to stay awake since I was unsure what would happen if I was to fall asleep while standing.

After the final Demon left I was instructed to help carry all the dishes and glasses back to the kitchen where I helped wash them. Once this as done, I was taken back to the room and unceremoniously stripped of everything that had been put on me and my face was wiped clean of the now hardened colored liquids. The Deamon women dispersed in a different direction than I needed to head in so I was left to find my own way back to the huts using the light of the rising sun. When I reached the hut Vilmar was in, I immediately fell asleep next to him not caring in the slightest that I still hadn’t reclothed myself.

A nudging woke me up what felt like only seconds after I nodded off and I groaned in response to it. I opened my eyes to see Vilmar a few feet from me holding the hut’s curtain open. He waited for me and I groggily stood to follow him outside while pulling my dress over my head. My eyes felt heavy and I fought to keep them open and, to make matters worse, the sun was only marginally higher in the sky then when I had made it back to the hut.