Shaking my legs to get the fuzzy feeling out of them i heave myself from my bed,

carefully listening for movement in front of my door i remove the wooden beam.

I try to be as silent as possible as i sneak through the corridor towards the

washroom in this layer. I am not the first in the room but the red hood deters

all too eager gazes. The water is a bit murky but the quick wash is still an

improvement.

Donning my robes again and pulling the hood deep over my head i make haste

to the relay, a small stand where a servant from the upper layers hand out our

daily rations. A small brown bar that honestly tastes like stale bread, but whatever

it is made from a single bar keeps an adult alive for a day. Three bars disappear

into my pocket the servant knows me, and impersonating as a Rancar is

a crime punishable by death down here. Some have tried, but it was a pain

to remove the blood after the execution.

Worfing down one of my bars I arrive in front of Mr Frisks office.

POV change Mr Frisk

I nearly missed the tender knock at my door, it is the freak again, I try to

ignore the feeling but she gives me the creeps. At least this is hopefully the last

day I have to deal with her. Shall Madame Sinclere deal with this menace.

“Come in!”

The heavy door opens and the hooded Rancar I detest so much enters the room.

Her bare feet make not a single noise, if I did not clearly see her, I would swear

that I was alone in the room.

She gives a servant bow and looks at me through this thick leather band over her eyes.

Slightly tilting her head she stares at me, like a bird or something worse.

Someday I could swear it glows behind that black ragged piece of leather. I had nightmares

where she took it off and there was a mouth behind that thing.

Honestly she gives me the creeps, she is too thin and pale, and her lacking

presence makes her seem like a ghost.

“You are hereby ordered to report to Madam Sinclere she will be your

superior until further notice!”

She nods and disappears only the door makes a small creaking sound as it falls back into

its frame.

A lone drop of sweat runs down my back, dear mother Gaia please I implore you,

I want to NEVER see that aberration again, please....

POV change Mare

Well that was weird the old Frisk that snarky weasel is sending me to the upper layers

and he even transferred me to a Madame Sinclere whoever that is.

Not that I mind to finally be rid of that stinking man. Those small beady eyes of his

always muster me like a spider. Cold and unrelenting. Also I am sure he has something

against me if not for the red hood he would have gotten me killed long ago.

With a small skid in my step I head towards the staircase to the basement floors.

Two guards in shiny plate-mail armor and a halberd stand before a heavy metal

door.

Seeing my approach one of them stands up and addresses me with a cold and commanding voice:

“State your name and purpose”

Coming to a stop roughly 5 meters in front of the guard close to the guard zone, an

area we are only allowed to enter with the guards approval.

“Name is Mare I have to report to a Madame Sinclere on the upper floors by command of

Mr Frisk.”

The other guard draws a parchment from a case skipping over its content.

“Slave Mare one of the guards behind will take you to Madame Sinclere.”

He says after a nod to the sitting guard.

“Open the gate!” The sitting guard yells, then his voice is overshadowed

by the immense cranking and screaming of metal on metal as the massive gate is

slowly heaved upwards.

From the other side a man in full plate armor appears, the quality of his gear way

superior to the guards inside. “Follow me.” Is the only thing he states as he disappears

through the door. I make haste to catch up to the giant clad in more metal than I have

ever seen(not counting the door).

The world that awaited me behind the gate I would have never dreamed to ever see it,

while brightly illuminated the walls are made of clean and dry set stone. There are tables

and chairs, servants in colorful robes hurry from left to right, like an ant-hive deep in

the catacombs. All busy everyone has its role.

I do not remember how long the walk towards the office we ended up in front of was,

everything here was clean and sparkling. No speck of dust showed itself on the

weird shining wood all the furniture seemed to be out of.

Is it possible to polish wood? It looks polished but how did they get it to not splinter,

I tried with my table but it only splintered.

The guard knocks at the door with his metal glove, the booming sound results

in a sharp “Please come in.” from the inside.

When I entered I saw the most unbelievable sight I had ever seen. Sitting behind a

wooden desk the size of my chamber (there is wood that big?) was a woman that

defied all my knowledge about how a woman was supposed to be.

Long curly yellow hair, a lightly brown skin and piercing blue eyes. I could not rate

how old she was, her face showed some wrinkles but not as bad as one of the older

apprentices. But the real catch was her chest, how by all great elementals is she walking

with these?? Can she even stand up? Please mother gaia if that is my fate as woman if

I get that old I rather succumb to the drain of a package right here and now.

“Welcome Mare you might be wondering why you are here, well to make it short

we are in need of a special kind of maid and you fit this role perfectly.”

Her voice was sweet and melodic it had kind of a soothing effect on me.

“You see, we will get some high standing visitors very soon and we need a maid

that cannot read, write and is unaffiliated with any of the great houses out there.

Come here and let me see with what I have to work here.”

She waved me over and showed me that my initial assumption was wrong,

walking was indeed still possible with these.

She pulled back my hood, then the world erupted in pain, she took my band.

Contorting in pain on the floor I could only scream “it hurts” as I pressed my hands

in front of my eyes.

“Do you need a healer?” She asked, her voice drenched in worry. Then pleasant darkness

fell over me, she had thrown some kind of blanket over me.

POV change Madame Sinclere

The first moment was a shock, I knew light was something people from the catacombs

were not really used to but the reaction that little girl showed was something I did

not expect. My heart felt a short pain as the denied mother in my old chest saw the small

life in front of me contorting in pain.

My first reaction was panic and the stupid question “Do you need a healer?” before my

head snapped back into action and I threw a blanket over her.

Instantly she got calmer. I reduced the brightness of the illumination crystals with a short

wave of my hand. (That little education on magic came in handy). As I turned back to the girl

I saw something that shocked me, I saw her eyes glow through the blanket.

“Dear are you alright? I have never seen someone react that bad to the light. Is it getting

better?”

She sat up under the blanket and nodded. She looked small and vulnerable down there,

another pain jolted my heart as my instinct clawed at the confines my logic hat shackled it in.

She was a slave and also a Rancar but if my duty had not ingrained discipline into the last

50 years of my duty I would have adopted the little one ON THE SPOT.

Shaking my head a little to regain my bearings I pushed the leather band under the blanket,

painstakingly avoiding any entrance for more light.

She immediately put the band on again. “Is it alright to lift the blanket I have reduced the light?”

I asked her. She nodded again.

Carefully I took the blanket off her and put it back on the couch where it was supposed to be

and awaits its use to warm my old bones a little.

“Please little one remove your clothes, I need to see what I have to work with, but keep

the band I don't want to cause you pain.”

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Author corner for those interested, i am not a native speaker and mainly

write for myself. Updates depend on inspiration and my mood. Feel free to leave a

comment MfG : Dr_Dac

Edit: Added fiction cover, not my own i do not claim ownership.