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123rd Vhalar, 710
Life seemed to finally be falling into a routine for Kirei. It wasn't one that she liked; she hated being a slave, and everything that went along with it. But a routine was...safe. Predictable. It was a far cry from life on the streets. Back in Lowtown, she never knew where she was going to sleep from one trial to the next. Nor did she know when...or even if she would get her next meal. If nothing else, Kirei knew that she had a better chance of survival as a slave than she had as a street kid in Lowtown. Whether she actually wanted to survive as someone's slave...well, that was debatable.
There were a few similarities between life in Athart, and life back in Lowtown. The merciless, often sadistic "masters" had replaced the roving street gangs as a constant source of fear and pain in her life. The latter might not have been as cruel as the winged demons could be, and they had gone after her and her friend because they were weaker than the gangs were, so they were seen as fair game in the fight for survival on the streets. But while the Avriel "masters" were often more cruel than the street gangs had been, and did not have the justification of trying to survive themselves to explain their cruelty...they were at least predictable. Kirei was starting to learn what they expected of her, and what would earn her one of their harsher "punishments" as opposed to a sharp cuff as a reprimand. Slowly but surely, she was starting to learn how to avoid the worst of their anger. It helped that she had a better grasp of Dehasin now, and was able to understand more of what her "masters" were saying.
Another thing that seemed to be quickly becoming a routine was the classes that all of the slaves had to attend. Some of them were being given fighting classes in the arena. Most of these slaves were men, and all of them were strong, muscular looking types. They were the ones who were likely to be sold as bodyguards. Or worse, Kirei had learned that some of the "fighter types" would be sold to arenas as fighters. They would spend the rest of what would likely be a short life fighting just for the right to survive, and the entertainment of their masters. Just the thought of that was horrifying to Kirei. And while she would always remember the trials when knowing how to fight would have saved her a lot of trouble, Kirei was very happy that it was obvious that she was completely unsuitable to be a "fighter type."
Of course, there was one type of slave that horrified Kirei even more than the thought of arena slaves did. The prettiest of the slaves, both male, and female alike were given lessons on how to...please their masters. In bed. Just the thought of being forced into...that made her feel sick. Kirei was no innocent by far. She had been well aware of the threat that street gangs, drunks, and the like could be for the older girls out on the streets. It had been something that had kept her awake out of dread more than once. In a few more arcs, she might have been faced with that fate herself. Kirei thought that she would rather die than be used in that way. If she had to be a slave, Kirei hoped that she would become either a household slave, or a labor slave. Fortunately, judging by the classes they were putting her in, it seemed as though the winged demons thought she was best suited to be a household slave.
The classes themselves were something that Kirei had very mixed feelings about. She was learning practical things such as cooking, gardening, how to tend a farm, and care for a child, or an elderly person. She was even learning basic medicine. Things that she would definitely find useful if she even managed to get free and had to make her own way. Kirei even found herself enjoying the lessons somewhat. But she hated the fact that she was being forced to take the lessons. And the constant presence of fear turned what might have been a fun experience into a nightmare.
123rd Vhalar, 710
Life seemed to finally be falling into a routine for Kirei. It wasn't one that she liked; she hated being a slave, and everything that went along with it. But a routine was...safe. Predictable. It was a far cry from life on the streets. Back in Lowtown, she never knew where she was going to sleep from one trial to the next. Nor did she know when...or even if she would get her next meal. If nothing else, Kirei knew that she had a better chance of survival as a slave than she had as a street kid in Lowtown. Whether she actually wanted to survive as someone's slave...well, that was debatable.
There were a few similarities between life in Athart, and life back in Lowtown. The merciless, often sadistic "masters" had replaced the roving street gangs as a constant source of fear and pain in her life. The latter might not have been as cruel as the winged demons could be, and they had gone after her and her friend because they were weaker than the gangs were, so they were seen as fair game in the fight for survival on the streets. But while the Avriel "masters" were often more cruel than the street gangs had been, and did not have the justification of trying to survive themselves to explain their cruelty...they were at least predictable. Kirei was starting to learn what they expected of her, and what would earn her one of their harsher "punishments" as opposed to a sharp cuff as a reprimand. Slowly but surely, she was starting to learn how to avoid the worst of their anger. It helped that she had a better grasp of Dehasin now, and was able to understand more of what her "masters" were saying.
Another thing that seemed to be quickly becoming a routine was the classes that all of the slaves had to attend. Some of them were being given fighting classes in the arena. Most of these slaves were men, and all of them were strong, muscular looking types. They were the ones who were likely to be sold as bodyguards. Or worse, Kirei had learned that some of the "fighter types" would be sold to arenas as fighters. They would spend the rest of what would likely be a short life fighting just for the right to survive, and the entertainment of their masters. Just the thought of that was horrifying to Kirei. And while she would always remember the trials when knowing how to fight would have saved her a lot of trouble, Kirei was very happy that it was obvious that she was completely unsuitable to be a "fighter type."
Of course, there was one type of slave that horrified Kirei even more than the thought of arena slaves did. The prettiest of the slaves, both male, and female alike were given lessons on how to...please their masters. In bed. Just the thought of being forced into...that made her feel sick. Kirei was no innocent by far. She had been well aware of the threat that street gangs, drunks, and the like could be for the older girls out on the streets. It had been something that had kept her awake out of dread more than once. In a few more arcs, she might have been faced with that fate herself. Kirei thought that she would rather die than be used in that way. If she had to be a slave, Kirei hoped that she would become either a household slave, or a labor slave. Fortunately, judging by the classes they were putting her in, it seemed as though the winged demons thought she was best suited to be a household slave.
The classes themselves were something that Kirei had very mixed feelings about. She was learning practical things such as cooking, gardening, how to tend a farm, and care for a child, or an elderly person. She was even learning basic medicine. Things that she would definitely find useful if she even managed to get free and had to make her own way. Kirei even found herself enjoying the lessons somewhat. But she hated the fact that she was being forced to take the lessons. And the constant presence of fear turned what might have been a fun experience into a nightmare.