I’ve been unstrapped and released from my embarrassnt of a transportation thod. I was given a small chance to take in what would be my new area of servitude. The mayor’s district wasn’t vast compared to the other districts, just like Squeaks imagined. I could see the stone walls surrounding the entire periter from here. It gave the feeling that I was trapped in here, not that I was being protected. I an, I was trapped here… for now.
The garden that covered the large mansion's outside portions was manicured so that it seed simple. There was no topiary garden depicting animals or baby angels. Every bush, tree, and plant was uniform in shape. Those shapes consisted of finely edged-rectangles and squares.
The only color that seed present besides the overwhelming amount of gray was the orange trees along with the occasional dark green of a bush. The leaves on the trees had turned an orangish-yellow color as they flew about on the air currents and littered the ground.
The mansion itself was sothing I’d yet to see in this world. If sobody combined the idea of a noble's mansion and a military fort, this is what the building would look like. The polished gray stone seed to be the only material used in its construction.
The building was probably about four stories high, give or take, and was as wide as it was long. The entire structure could be best described as “blocky.” The overall design was simple in favor of showing off its natural design rather than giving it any kind of authentic decorations. Sohow it didn’t manage to look like a castle either but an actual mansion if that mansion was built entirely from stone.
It was the exact opposite of the marble palace of Ostela, simple and efficient. Whoever designed and created this mansion was definitely in the military. At this day in age, only a general of high standing would have their seat of power look like this. I couldn’t imagine an ordinary king or emperor living in such a building.
“Enough gawking, move,” Ester ordered with a shove.
I complied and hobbled down the stone path. Even the walkways and roads were of the sa gray stone but they had been cut into blocks instead of being entirely smooth. Without having shoes on, it made the ground very cold and uncomfortable.
At least Ester removed my wrist shackles so I wasn’t so bogged down by all the unnecessary weight. The more ti that went on, the more I struggled to move my own body. It felt like the pain of my injuries never got better, but the chains on my wrists and the collar around my neck kept getting heavier.
Was I imagining this? Or was I just becoming frailer? I couldn’t tell.
Standing in front of the doorway were two people that made my head hurt and surprised in equal parts. Just when I think I’ve seen it all, this world really throws for a loop. What’s next? Is an actual dragon going to fly down from the sky?
In a fresh-pressed yellow and brown butler attire was an old High Elf. At least the oldest Elf I’ve ever seen, he looked to be around his late forties. But the more I looked at him the more I realized he wasn’t just a High Elf; he must be a half-Elf.
How was I sure? Even I don’t know. Perhaps it was so inborn ability for to be able to tell the difference between Elves? Now that I think about it, I knew that girl Sarah in my class was a half-Elf without even asking.
The man stood straight-backed, awaiting our arrival. His well-kept silver hair was in a bun, and he had a silver mustache to match. It was also the first ti I’d ever seen an Elf with facial hair before.
The person standing next to him caught my attention. It seed I was having a lot of firsts today because I’ve never seen a True Beastn before. Dad told about them during a walk into town one day. I vaguely rember him saying sothing about them being a proud race and that there weren’t many of them around. But other than that, I didn’t know much about True Beastn.
I believed it was female judging by her body proportions, but I couldn’t be sure. She had the appearance of a bipedal black jungle cat, most likely a panther. She had dark green eyes and was more beast than man.
Cerila and Sorn looked like an Elf or Human with animal features, but this True Beastn was an animal with Human features. She had five fingers on each hand that included what looked to be an opposable thumb. The True Beastn had on a brown and gray maid outfit. She was watching with a smile, at least I think she is smiling…
Behind the two was a handful of maids and servants in the sa color sches as the maid and butler. The half-Elf man spoke out to in Elven with a clear voice. “A mixed Dark Elf child? You must be the slave Lord Sandervile contracted. I am Sylros, House Sandervile’s head servant and Lord Sandervile’s personal attendant. From today onwards, you live to serve House Sandervile. To be more specific, you will be of service to the Young Master. However, you are not fit for such a task yet. You shall be trained extensively before you even have so much as the honor to serve a mber of House Sandervile. Do you understand?”
Well, that was the nicest way sobody has told that I was a slave. And that I wasn’t even fit to be a slave…
“I believe you are getting ahead of yourself, Sir Sylros. Perhaps you should ask him his na first?” The True Beastn’s voice was soft and had an elent to it that was difficult to explain. It was almost like a feline purring? I couldn’t quite place it, but her voice was gentle on the ears.
Sylros adjusted his collar awkwardly. “Ah, yes, I suppose I have forgotten who I am dealing with. I shouldn’t expect so much on his first day. What is your na, child?”
Mmmm, what is my na? I suppose I can keep my first na as is. If sobody is looking for going by a different na might see them miss sohow. But Squeaks did tell to use another last na.
Ah, I’ve got the perfect one.
“Kaladin Ambersoul, sir.”
Sylros and the maid both raised an eyebrow at . Were they surprised I knew the Human language? Or maybe that I managed to call him sir so easily?
I figured there was no point in resisting these people. It would only prolong my suffering, and I needed to assimilate if I was going to have an easier ti escaping. It was in my best interest to beco the best little slave child as quickly as possible, even if I had to mimic so of my old habits.
I’ll hate every second of this. Being a slave was bad enough but now, being a direct servant to sobody else while also having no freedom was only a single step above being dead to . I never wanted to serve anyone or anything ever again. It didn’t matter if that was a princess or a nation. It seems I’ve found myself to be in an even worse situation.
“Perhaps your previous master taught you so manners. There is a chance this might not be such a difficult task after all,” Sylros mused. “Now then, the first order of business is to fix your… current appearance. We can not tolerate having a servant of House Sandervile looking so rundown. Muriel, see to it that this child is presentable.”
“Yes, I shall see to it imdiately, sir,” The Beastn woman said. “Co now, Kaladin, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Muriel extended an open hand to , I was hesitant to take it, but I did decide that resistance was futile. No need to bite the hand that was going to feed .
She walked through the mansion and began pointing out various areas to . I was half-listening and half observing my surroundings. I wanted to formulate my plan of escape sooner rather than later.
Before, I had tried to escape quickly, and it led straight into despair. This ti I was going to do things the right way. This was going to be a Kronos escape plan, not a Kaladin one.
I began taking stock of everything from guard patrols to servant paths. I needed to know the ins and outs of this mansion. But, of course, this was just the initial reconnaissance. I could only glean so much information in one go. It was going to take ti, but I would achieve my goals.
The interior of the mansion matched the outside. Swords, shields, spears, and various other weapons decorated the building while servants dusted and cleaned them. Tapestries hung from the walls with the symbol of Sandervile on them. The few paintings that were on the walls were militaristic in nature, often depicting a battlefield or knights subjugating so kind of monster.
The hallways were also lined with suits of armor. So were full plate and basic in design, often carrying a single weapon. So were more flashy. The more romantic armor seed less efficient in combat and went for more of the aesthetic approach to plate armor.
One suit of armor was painted bright orange. The helt plu was made of bright blue feathers, and a giant ornate two-handed glaive rested in the outstretched gauntlets. Those feathers… looked like feathers from a Nacut.
A Nacut, huh… it’s been a long ti since I’ve been on a hunt. I miss the thrill, but I miss the people I went with more.
“Kaladin? Kaladin are you paying attention?” Muriel asked with a smile.
“Uh, sorry, ma’am. I zoned out,” I admitted.
“It’s okay, you must be tired, and there isn’t a rush for you to know everything. And you don’t have to call ma’am. Feel free to call Muriel like everyone else,” she said softly.
“Okay, Muriel.”
“Now then, there is one thing you absolutely need to know. As slaves, we are not allowed to be on the third floor of the mansion unless directly ordered. Please be mindful of that rule. It is very important, okay?”
So Muriel was a slave as well. I noticed there was a difference in the attire among the servants. It seems that slaves wore gray and brown outfits while the servants wore yellow and brown. I can’t be sure what the difference between a slave and a servant is. I an, they seem like the sa thing to . Perhaps servants are just civilians?
“Why is that?” I asked.
“The third floor is for the Sanderviles. Mayor Sandervile’s study is up there, along with his personal quarters. His five wives and children also live on the third floor. So as slaves, we are not permitted on the third floor. Now, this might change when you co into service of the Young Master, but until you are told otherwise, please refrain from entering the third floor unless Mayor Sandervile or Sylros order you to.”
I see, so the entire floor is the personal quarters for the Sanderviles. It’s a sha I can’t go up there on my own, so I’ll have to wait for the ti being. But she said “children,” but I’ve only heard people say “Young Master,” not “Young Masters,” so with five wives, how many children does he have? How can I ask without sounding sketchy…
"How many Young Masters are there, Muriel?”
“Well, there used to be two, but now there is just one. Young Master Gal left two years ago to attend the academy, so he lives in the dorms there. So now it’s just Young Master Adria that lives in the mansion,” Muriel inford .
“Okay.”
Five wives but only two children? Those numbers don’t match up. If I look at this situation through the eyes of history, it’s a disaster for the House of Sandervile. Having only two heirs at this point in ti can’t be a good thing. Assassinating two heirs isn’t that difficult of a task, and doing so would cripple the Sandervile royal line.
Mayor Sandervile isn’t that old, but he isn’t getting younger, either. Then again, it’s probably better for the world that there are fewer Sanderviles in it. Hopefully, the House will survive long enough that I can make a clean escape. Having a rebel army kick down the door doesn’t sound very good for my health.
Muriel continued our tour till we reached what would be considered the backmost portion of the second floor. “This is where you will be staying. Only a handful of the servants have their own rooms, so most of us live here. It’s not much, but at least you will have a bed and a roof. Unfortunately, there isn’t much privacy either, so I’m sorry about that…” Muriel said awkwardly.
She led over to a simple cot that would now be my bed. It was as spartan as the entire building. “It’s fine. Nothing I’m not used to.”
At least it was off the ground, and I didn’t have to share it with anyone. It even ca with a blanket… how nice.
“Ah, that’s right…” She said with a bit of sadness in her voice.
It seed Muriel was a kind person. After a long ti of being treated so poorly, it was refreshing to have soone be kind out of the gate. I an, we were in similar situations, but she could have easily pulled rank while being a royal pain about things. Instead, Muriel was more than happy to explain the finer details of things to when I asked.
But I couldn’t let my guard down around her. I didn’t know how far her loyalty ran for the Sanderviles. If she had been a slave her entire life, there was a good chance she would have been completely brainwashed into serving them. So leaking any ill intent might see getting punished, therefore restricting what little access I had.
“This is the washroom. It’s communal; however, n and won bathe at separate tis. But right now, it will be empty so let get you so water so you can bathe.”
I moved around in the washroom and waited for Muriel to return. The room wasn’t anything special; it was all made from the sa gray stone, but there were wooden benches to sit on at least. There were even so tal sheets that had been shined so much you could see your reflection.
I hadn’t seen myself since Ostela…
I thought I looked terrible then, but now I managed to look even worse. Back in Ostela, I was only on the cusp of starvation, but even then, that was enough for my Elven body to deteriorate.
Without proper food for almost a year, I was nothing more than a skeleton walking. Elves weren’t very big in the first place. Keeping muscle and fat seed to be a difficult challenge for our race.
I ran my hands through my hair, but I didn’t get very far. My fingers got caught in my waist-length hair which was matted in most places and looked more akin to a pile of black straw. My hair also stopped growing correctly at so point from all the damage.
“Kaladin? Kaladin are you okay?” Muriel asked hesitantly.
“I’m fine.”
I was sitting with my legs crossed in front of the tal mirror while I examined myself. I probably looked like so ghoul that just happened to see its reflection.
“I have the water for you to bathe and so clean washcloths. Also, we are going to have to cut your hair—”
“I’ll do it myself,” I snapped.
I watched as Muriel winced a bit in the reflection of the mirror. I… I didn’t an to snap like that. I was just tired of breaking promises, and I wanted to keep the one I made to Dad about growing my hair out. I knew I had to sacrifice so of my hair since it was all but destroyed at a certain point, but I didn’t want anyone else doing it.
“Sorry, it’s just I’d like to do it myself, please,” I requested.
“But… I an, are you sure? I just can’t…” Muriel trailed off.
She was hesitant to give the blade to cut my hair. I didn’t get it at first, but now I do. She just walked in on , staring at myself in the mirror like a lost soul, and was worried that I would do sothing rash.
“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t hurt anyone or myself. You can stand and watch if you want,” I reassured her.
Her swirling green eyes never looked away from . She was probably trying to figure out if I was serious or not. Her eyes weren’t cruel or calculating, though. If anything, they reminded … they reminded of Grandpa’s eyes, just a darker green. They had that sa soft glow to them, just like when Grandpa tried seeing through my intentions, sothing he did all too frequently.
Eventually, she gave a warm smile, her pearly white fangs showing. “It’s okay. This is probably going to be the only ti you get to bathe by yourself, so you should take the opportunity to enjoy it. I’ll leave everything here for you, try not to take a long ti, okay?”
“Understood.”
“You don’t have to be formal with when it’s just the two of us. Just talk to like normal, please,” she smiled wryly.
“Uh, sure thing. Thanks, Muriel.”
Muriel left the basin of water and the clippers, along with a few washcloths, and took her leave. I tried to move the water basin a bit closer to but couldn’t pick it up. Eventually, I just settled for using my legs to press it closer to where I wanted it. I silently thanked Muriel again for giving this alone ti. It’s been forever since I’ve had ti to myself in a sowhat private setting.
I set to work on cutting my hair first. I was sadly going to have to cut a lot of it off. I took the clippers and ntally marked off where I was going to start the chopping. I planned on bringing my hair from my waist to just barely past shoulder length. Unfortunately, getting all of this gunk and debris out of my hair was out of the question. It was a sha, and it frustrated but damaged hair needed to be cut.
I finished my handiwork and tried to even it out as best as I could. I was already getting a bit tired from holding myself up for so long and straining to cut my hair. I sat down on the wooden bench, out of breath, and rubbed my fingers across the cold red tal of my slave collar.
I was hopeful that they would take this off of . I didn’t see any of the other slaves or servants wearing one. But I rember what Remi told about Obedience Collars and how they could be made to be smaller. I was worried that I was going to get one of those, and if I did… it would make my escape impossible.
If they try putting one on , what do I do? Do I fight back instantly? Take a hostage, maybe? I don’t see myself ever getting out of here alive if I do sothing like that.
I’m also in no condition to fight. Even if I blasted off my entire mana pool to escape, I wouldn’t even make it to the noble district. I doubt I could even take out Ester, let alone a whole squad of guards. I guess I just have to hope that scenario doesn’t co to pass.
Next, I began washing my body free of gri. The occasional blasts of water that I received during my ti as a slave could hardly be counted as a proper bath. The water was warm, which was a pleasant surprise.
Wrapped in a washcloth that Muriel left, I noticed sothing strange. I unwrapped the item to find a bar of soap. I haven’t had soap since I was ho. Although the soap didn’t sll like anything, it was still a tiny blessing.
Thanks, Muriel.
---
Although I still looked like a ss, at least I didn’t look like a dirty ghoul anymore. I wiped at my face with the washcloth once more and began braiding my hair. It was challenging to braid my hair, but I could manage. I probably didn’t have much ti left, but I wanted to reaffirm my goals.
I needed a solid plan of action.
First, I need to assimilate into the life of a servant here. The sooner, the better. While I’m doing that, I need to map out this entire building and district. If the chance arises, I need to do the sa for the noble and knight districts. I need to know the ins and outs of every habit of guards, slaves, and servants I can.
Second, I need to find the royal escape tunnels. I feel I can do it with a bit of earth magic or just by snooping around in the right places. Those tunnels will be my best bet of escaping without anyone noticing. And if I can’t find the tunnels, then finding an alternative route out will co after. Maybe a mail delivery or sothing.
Speaking of mail, I need to attempt to send a letter out. I’m not sure how difficult it will be, but if I can let my family know where I am and that I’m alive, there is a chance of rescue. But writing a note ans physical evidence that can be traced back to . So I need to be certain that I can pull it off before attempting sothing like that.
Third, I needed to make a decision on where I was going to flee. Going back to Ostela is out of the question. As far as I can see, I have two choices. I can either go south to The Vast Barrens and try to get in contact with the Dark Elves that live there. Hopefully, sobody can help or at least keep safe.
Alternatively, I could escape to the northeast to the Kingdom of Luminar. They are friendly to escaped slaves, and if my mory serves right, Dad told about an old friend in the capital there. I believe his na was Bowen, and he was a teacher at a university or sothing. I’ve also been told that mbers of the Shadow Clan are in the northeast as well.
Mmmm… if I go northeast, I’ll have to travel through another City State and then cross mountain paths. Doing so alone as an escaped slave might prove difficult. I’ll have to make it through so kind of border patrol as well to get to The Barrens, but at least it’s closer. But I’m also running the risk that I might not receive help from my isolationist Dark Elf kin.
Either way, it’s a crapshoot with no guarantees.
Traveling the shorter distance to friendly territory makes the most sense. If and when I escape, I’ll head to The Barrens and seek out help from the Dark Elves. Even if they don’t help directly, at least I’ll be free in a land of people I sowhat look like. I’ll also technically be closer to ho if I go south instead of northeast.
I finished my hair and rolled my shoulders. I was tired, starving, and beaten down. But I wasn’t going to give up again. I had a family to return to. It’s just like Squeaks told , as long as I’m alive, I can be free again one day.
No matter what it takes, I’m going to be free.
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