Elendria’s POV, one month after Sean’s arrival

“Elendria, hurry up! You don’t want to miss seeing a white stag, do you?” My younger brother Olearic called out, rushing ahead through the forest. Like all elves, we were naturally adept at silently moving through wooded areas while leaving the barest hint of a trail. This close didn’t matter, as I could still see the shaking of the coralis vines that marked his passage. Smiling at his exuberance, I followed quickly. If it were a white stag, it would be a sight only seen once every few decades.

“Pushing forty, and yet he still gets as excited as a twenty-year-old.” Duerse, our eldest brother chuckled.

“As if you aren’t as excited. You weren’t even born the last time a white stag was spotted.” I teased him, knowing full well just how excited he was. It wasn’t often that he avoided meeting with the council, though they would understand the reason.

I could almost feel his mirth as he passed me, calling over his shoulder, “Race you!” Laughing, I tore after him as fast as I could safely go through the treetop road. An ugly name from the humans, and wildly inaccurate as well. We were only about forty feet from the forest floor, right where the widest and strongest branches of the trees spread out.

Ten minutes of daring chase later, and we caught up to Olearic. Panting, I nudged Duerse. “Not fair, starting the race before telling me about it.”

“And just how else am I going to beat you?” He asked. “You’ve been faster than me for fifteen years, at least when it comes to the upper roadway.”

“Quiet, you’ll scare it away!” Olearic hissed, and slowly started moving down to ground level. He was taking much greater care to be silent this time, and he was doing a wonderful job. Perhaps he would end up joining the guardian rangers one day. Duerse looked at me before smiling and giving me a go ahead gesture, and I swiftly followed Olearic. Stalking through the forest, we came to the clearing that the stag was supposed to be in. Except it was empty.

“Pareseus.” My eyes widened in horror as all the muscles in my body locked up. Did? Did Duerse cast a spell on me? As the terror gripped my body, smooth hands gathered my hair up and lifted them away from my neck.

“Ah Elendria, so trusting. So naïve. Did you really think we could leave you be, once you started showing that skill?” Duerse whispered in my ear. “Olearic here came up with the white stag, though the rest of the plan was mine.” As he was taunting me, Olearic reached into a nearby hollow and pulled out a metal object.

No. No, it couldn’t be! A slave collar? Where did they get such a monstrosity? Of all the civilized races, only humans trafficked in slaves! And that glow! It had to be an Imperial ranked object, with that telltale golden shimmer. He slipped it around my neck, and I felt the metal flow seamlessly into place.

“There, there little sister, no need to cry.” Olearic cooed at me. “But we just can’t trust someone with soul vision in our court. The potential to abuse it, well, I’m sure you understand.”

I bolted upright in a panic, nostrils flaring as they struggled to suck in enough air for my burning lungs. It only took seconds, but the scent of bodies unwashed for far too long started to penetrate the fear. Eyes aching from holding them wide open for so long, I finally recognized the cage that had been my home for how long now? Forty years? Fifty? Time loses meaning when your days are the same. My hands came up, and touched the bane of my existence. The collar. Curse my treacherous brothers, and their enchanted metal collar. Normal slave collars merely activated when the wearer either broke a direct command or was ordered to by the master. They usually only delivered pain.

Mine was in a class of its own. The magic left no hinge or lock to be picked, and I truly feared that it would be a part of me forever. Master also had a wide variety of punishments he could evoke in my body, to my utter shame. The only blessing was that the collar prevented me from entering a reproductive cycle, so I didn’t have to fear getting pregnant from these foul humans. Rutting around every night, passing me around like some cheap whore, I WAS ROYALTY DAMNIT!

Calming myself, I listed the further insults that one day I would repay to my brothers. All my skills save soul vision were sealed, locked in at level one. Except those that my master specifically listed, and these bastards of course let me grow in skill in the “bedroom arts” as they called them. As if some of the things they forced me to do was an art. Pah. Sealing away 90% of my mana reserves was just cruel. I could use my one skill for a minute at a time, and that was it. It felt as if one of my limbs was lopped off, but not cleanly. I had a stump I could wave around impotently, always there as a reminder of what I once had.

“O’Carrol.” He sat up groggily, blinking away the tiredness in his eyes. I knew he was doing some sort of training at night with his mana, but I didn’t want to know any more. What I didn’t know I couldn’t tell to the slob of a master.

“Yeah? Elendria? Is it morning already?”

“Yes. If you aren’t up, the guards are going to get rid of your food again.” I answered. I still kept a cold attitude toward Sean, though of all the humans I had come across he seemed the kindest. Not that that was a high bar to obtain, but that didn’t matter. Even on his first day he tried to show me a kindness, and that was something I couldn’t forget. No matter the suffering I went through, some sense of honor still remained.

As usual, we ate in silence. Once we were done, I found myself idly fingering the collar I wore as I pondered what to try and teach him today. Like most that come across as power hungry, he greedily absorbed anything and everything related to getting stronger. That and the gods were the only real topics he gave more than a passing care for, much to my dismay. If he got to the power level he wanted he was going to have to deal with politics at some point.

“Today we will go over items.” This was probably another lesson he would pay attention to. “Before we do that, we need to go over some ancient elven history.”

“Seriously?” Came the expected complaint.

“Yes. Unless you want everyone in this world to think you an idiot?” I raised an eyebrow at him, bringing back flashbacks of one of my favorite teachers. That was her way of challenging me, as if implying I was quitting. And the disdain she carried for those who quit too soon. It had the desired effect, as his posture subconsciously corrected itself, leaning forward in anticipation. Yet, everyone already knew this stuff. Why was I having to teach this stuff- *OW!* A shock of pain went through my skull, a surefire sign that I once knew but was ordered to forget. Shaking my head, I immediately moved away from those distracting thoughts and went back to the lesson.

“Better. Now, long ago the elves were not as refined as we are now. We were a fractured people, warring much like you humans do today. One of the greatest warlords of the time was named General Dray’k’vero. Part of his success came from his military genius, but the majority of it can be given to the loyalty of his soldiers. See, unlike many of his fellow leaders, he gave his soldiers the majority of the spoils.”

“Seems like a good idea. Reward those who do well, and let everyone know that they too can earn rich rewards.”

“Indeed. And it led to him becoming one of the greatest generals in elven history. Unfortunately, he ran into problems. One of his major issues was that of magical items. Unless you got each one appraised, it was impossible to get the general value of each one. So he had to come up with a system, one so simple and effective that we still use it today. All items fit into a tier of the Drey’k’vero system, and the system itself has adopted it.”

“From lowest to highest tier, the ranks are as follows: common, uncommon, rare, superb, imperial, epic, and legendary. Common items have no special values whatsoever. Uncommon items are those that have a high quality, though they can’t hold a magical charge. Think of a perfectly made steel longsword, and you have an uncommon item. Rare items are split into enchanted and unenchanted. The unenchanted items have the potential to be enchanted, but there is no distinction in how much they can hold. One that could rise to legendary potential and one that can only maintain a rare rating are both equal in the eyes of the system. Enchanted rare items may only enhance one thing.”

“Superb items and above all have enchantments, and are further subdivided into low, middle, and high. The quality of the enchantment and how often they need recharging separate the sub ranks as well as the quality. This collar I wear is Imperial quality.”

“I was wondering about that, why do they call it imperial?”

“Back in Drey’k’vero’s day, the highest denomination of coin was the gold imperial, and each one was enchanted with magic to give it a slight golden glow. Those items of the imperial rank and higher all have that telltale glow, and it reminded the general of those same coins.”

“Not too bad. Enchanting the coins would help prevent counterfeits, do they still do that today?”

“Yes. Though it is only the highest denominations. There are no other distinguishing traits to determine epic and legendary items, so you will need to find out on your own. Though you should be able to get a feel for what level an item is based on just the feel of the magical power emanating from it. That’s what they had to do in Drey’k’vero’s day, but now we have the system. Common items have black names, uncommon is white, rare is green, superb is blue, imperial is gold, epic is orange, and legendary is purple.”

“Huh, that does make it simpler.” He agreed. “Tell me, say we run across a superb rank item. Can we use it without identifying it somehow?”

“Yes, though it isn’t recommended. The system doesn’t differentiate between enchantments and curses, so all cursed items are at a minimum rare. And a lot of curses can’t be dispelled without powerful help.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense I guess. How do we go about getting things identified?”

“Well, you could learn the identify skill. Of course, that takes at best a couple decades of intensely studying magical lore and theory. Since you humans seem to always be in a hurry, you could also become an enchanter. Once you hit grandmaster in that ranking, you can identify any enchantment.”

“And if I don’t have the time to do either of those? And don’t want to let other people know what equipment I have?”

“Then your best bet would be to go to one of the branches of the mages guild and buying a scroll of identify. They do come in ranks, though the stronger the magical item the more likely it is that a scroll will fail. I think with legendary items the failure rate is estimated at sixty percent, though that is just an educated guess.”

“Lack of data?”

“Indeed.” I nodded. “There just aren’t enough legendary items floating about to have a good grasp.”

“Heh, imagine that. Legendary items are somewhat of a rarity.” He chuckled, shaking his head. These humans laugh at the oddest things, I doubt I’ll ever understand them. “So, anything else I need to know about item rankings?”

“Not really. Though it’s doubtful we shall ever be free, each ranking increases the cost of the item by a factor of ten. That only really works through superb, imperial ranked items really start increasing in cost. And in repairs as well.”

“Bah, that’s no fun. Do you know what the most powerful item is?”

“Probably the sword used by the first hero. Even with its destruction, the shards are still incredible artifacts in their own right. I can only imagine what strength that sword held when it was in one piece.”

“Sean!” One of the bastards called. “Hey buddy! Looks like you two are getting awfully chummy, and we can’t have that. Fifteen minutes of level 2 pain followed by fifteen minutes pain free for the next three hours.” With a grunt, O’Carrol stiffened as the pain slammed into him. No matter how much you prepared, there was nothing you could do to prepare yourself. I moved away from him, lest my mere presence cause more punishment.

As he was nearing the end of the pain, I decided to use my soul vision on him. He seemed different than other humans, but I had been fooled before. By family no less. Looking at him for a few seconds, I was shocked to my core. So bright. So much yellow. Such a happy soul. If that was all, I would simply think him a bit sheltered. But cutting through the soul was such a savage injury. Rough, jagged edges let me know that his was a fresh pain, that time had yet to heal. Nearly cutting the yellow of his soul in two, this bright red streak was sheer agony. It practically throbbed, begging for something or someone to come and heal it.

“I’m sorry for this, but I’ve been wondering. What happened to your family?” I had to immediately drop the soul vision, the resulting flare of red was nearly blinding. Gods above, what did this man go through if the agony is this painful after a month?

“I was taken from them.” He said darkly, and somehow I felt the shifting of fate. I hadn’t felt this, in so very long. I activated soul vision again, as O’Carrol spoke. “I’ll make it back there someday. No matter who tries to stop me. This I swear!” The last was said with such venom, such determination, I was surprised nobody else felt it. As I stared at his soul, the bright yellow condensed into the core of his soul. There it started to form two faces, but it was swiftly engulfed in red, preventing me from seeing them. Then a dark violet emerged from the red, completely encasing his soul. Violet. One of the rarest soul colors, it represents the absolute limits of determination.

In all my decades of seeing souls, there was only once when I saw a completely violet soul before this. Grand Elder Greylana’s soul took on this on the very last day of his life, and it wasn’t nearly this dark. A rogue clan of elves had taken his daughter, and before she was rescued they did terrible things to her. Not only the rogues, but they let her be violated by monsters. The poor girl’s mind broke, unsurprisingly, and one of the clan members was captured alive. The Grand Elder sacrificed not only his life, but his very place in the cycle of reincarnation in order to pass on a bloodline curse for the rogue clan, ensuring that they would be cursed in perpetuity. And yet, even that level of determination paled in comparison to this human!

How? What could possibly drive him to such a degree? Could his love for them be this strong? I couldn’t help myself. “Sean.” He froze when he heard me call him by his first name. “Don’t tell me your plans, I just have faith that you will escape these bonds of slavery. I ask that when you do, take me with you. Take over the slave collar, or find some way to free me, I care not. Just get me out of the clutches of these foul beasts, and treat me with respect, and I’ll follow you to the end of my days.”

“Why?” He asked, as if it were that simple. How do you tell someone that you see the determination in their soul, and you crave even a fraction of the loyalty they show?

“Just now. I was watching your soul with a unique skill.” I started, gauging his reaction. There could be no lies. “I saw your determination. It literally shifted your soul. I’ve never seen that sort of devotion. If you were my master, I know that I would never suffer any of the demeaning punishments I have been forced to live through. That even if I remained a slave, once I earned your trust that I would never feel like a slave unless I did something as foolish as breaking that trust.”

He sat there staring at me, and I couldn’t help but shrink down under his gaze. If he even breathed a word of this, NO! He would never, I just knew it.

“Ok.” Two letters. Such a simple reply, and yet it lifted a weight that had been bearing down on me for so long I had forgotten it was there. I hid the tears in my eyes, smiling as he turned and started working on his body once again. Despite everything, even after a month of humiliation from the guards, he still tried to minimize his sweating. If he were this considerate as a fellow slave, no. I couldn’t allow myself to drift any further down that future. There were still too many things that could go wrong by tempting fate. For the first time in a long time, a broken slave had hope.