Fiery as it was, her own glare could not better that of the sun’s as it crested the hills in the horizon. Squinting at the violent rays, her hands twitched to move, rustling the chains that bound each wrist to the shackles at her feet. She sought out the shade of the broader man in front, and as well as painfully chafing her ankles, the veering movement tripped the one behind her, triggering a sudden collision. Nairi misread it as hostility and pulled hard against the other in protest, culminating in a back-and-forth shove. A guard pulled up next to them and quelled the dispute with a warning glance, one that lingered on the Eastern woman longer than it did on the other. It bore the same ferocity as the last few times he’d been forced to reprimand her, and she returned it in its entirety until he looked away, a small smile following after him. It went without saying that she expected to be punished later and was taking as many jabs at her captors until then.

One of the prominent facts of life was that her body belonged to another, made for purposes that would satisfy the wishes of whoever bought her name, and it would never serve her will. This basic principle of slavery was, of course, never accepted. Yet even though the constant teachings, berating and beatings failed to instil her being with submissive obedience, she felt atypically uneasy the first time she met her latest buyer. As the column of flesh and chains neared the summit, that feeling returned in earnest, and with a curious edge to it. Nestled atop the spire of verdant forest and jagged-toothed cliffs, was a magnificent villa. Swinging wide, the gates let them in, and the interior out. Immediately, she fixed a hateful glare on the guards that sorted their lines into a single row, imbuing every movement with a jostle or rough step.

If she was impressed by the make of their escort, then she was completely awestruck by those who came forth to inspect them. Each figure represented a different archetype of the warrior, standing strong in both stature and mana, with an air that carried a palpable energy in every step they took towards and amongst them. She steeled herself whenever one came close, deepening her scowl and meeting their inquisitive gazes with a defiant stare. In them was something she struggled to identify, being so new to her own understanding, and different to any person she has ever met. Later, she would learn the name of it: Pride. The men were giants, who moved the earth as they did their chiselled vessels, and the women were beautiful yet fearsome. A slow look around the enclosure they were now in yielded little else that could aide her enlightenment. Frowning still, she found herself actually caring about her current situation. It dawned on her that there may be a valid reason why her broker expressed such unprecedented glee the moment she left.