Chapter 1: Neira
Chapter Text
Giggles filled the cell.
"Shush!" I tried silencing them.
The cell was already too damp; I didn't need their breaths making it worse.
If they didn't stop, we'd all be in trouble. I could already imagine Father's face if he knew what I was doing. That straight, cold, yet disappointed glare was all too familiar.
Amala's locks covered the peephole we had made a week prior.
Abenna Umaale(well, now Abenna Nobilee)had just married Jabari Nobilee in a ceremony yesterday, the 14th of August. After the drinking and dancing games came the dreaded and expected—depending on who was asked—wedding night. Except, they both spent the actual wedding night asleep. We checked. So it was the morning after instead. Jezhara had suggested the idea to us and kept watch through the night. I do wonder how her parents didn't notice her nightly absence.
Both came from good families. Jabari had lived most of his life at the Sea Pearl, representing his family. The Umaales owned much of the farmland surrounding Carevalla and Carevelle, supplying both cities with starches, grains, and vegetation. Meanwhile, the Nobilees provided Carevalla with fresh, clean, drinkable water from their springs—although I overheard Father cursing them for threatening to allocate those springs to others. Nonetheless, the families arranged a sacred union between the two.
Roughly eight days ago, I overheard Nyrenna gossiping—or "intercommunicating," as she would call it—alongside Nala, her closest friend. Evidently, she had heard that Abenna collapsed to her knees in tears when she heard of her marriage.
I don't blame Abenna. I suppose if I were her, I would've done the same. Unsurprisingly, she remained eccedentesiast through the ceremonies.
Despite his family name and notoriety, Jabari was simply too dreary. He had no interest in war or histories. He was far too licentious, in my judgment. I've heard he's often found at the local brothels getting his fair share. But, from what Amala disclosed to me, all men go to brothels—whether for pleasure, enjoyment, or relaxation. It's sinful, yet they still partake in such vile behavior. May the gods have mercy on their souls.
Often I find myself desiring to be a man. Of course, I'd never say it aloud, but just the thought of doing what I yearn for, when I fancy it, excites me. I could venture to Twin cities and beyond, fuck all the whores of the thirteen cities, and make it back home to marry some dull daughter of who-knows-who, then continue doing so. I'll admit, the thought of partaking in war doesn't seem too appealing.
As for his appearance—he wasn't much to look at. Like most, he had a dense mahogany complexion. He had 22 years behind him, yet the face of a 35-year-old. He carried a good deal of meat on his bones, likely from doing little besides indulging in prostitutes.
"Come on, it's your turn now!" She turned her head away from the hole toward mine, her face lit with a mixture of joy and amazement. The other girls made way for me. She scooched over, welcoming me forward. I stepped closer and knelt to the floor. The concrete felt rough yet cool through the skirt of my dress. I pierced my eye through the hole.
They were both already undressed, fully exposed for us to see. Abenna had a tall and slender figure. Her petite breasts hung from her chest, her nipples making a distinct appearance in her silhouette. Her behind was compacted into her thighs. She easily towered over Jabari. Jabari looked much leaner without clothes than with, but he still carried plenty of flesh. His areolas spilled onto his chest. Down by his hips was a cylindrical slab, similar in size to a doorknob, with a sack even bigger hanging freely underneath.
Six years ago, during the windy season of April, Nyrenna's wedding was less than a week away. Amid the hustle and bustle of preparations, Mother pulled her aside into one of her playrooms. My naïve self, with only thirteen years of life, followed behind. I had no ulterior motives—I was simply inquisitive. As they walked to Mother's chambers, I followed closely. Soon after they reached the playroom, Mother shut the door, and I glued my left ear to the polished oak. I couldn't decipher everything that was said. Mother did most of the talking—there and in general. I remember it going something like:
"Now you are a woman, Nyrenna, soon to be wed."
I presume she nodded in agreement.
"In addition comes bearing children. Do you know how children are conceived?"
"No..." she replied.
She was lying. She must have been. How could she live twenty years and not know? She was deceitful in this manner. She would never fabricate the truth for anything important, but she would do so to protect her image—especially with our parents.
"You see, men and women have very different anatomy. Men possess penises, while women have vaginas. Some use much more vulgar terms, but essentially they refer to the same parts."
A cluster of servants walked past, forcing me to move awkwardly before they finished.
Penis.
A penis?
That was my first instance ever glimpsing one. Quite frankly, it wasn't much to look at—or perhaps it was just Jabari's?
They stood facing their matrimonial bed. Abenna seemed uneasy. This was her first time; that couldn't be said for her new husband. He took a few steps toward her, then grabbed her back—first with one hand, then the other. She shuddered at his touch, then lowered her head to his lips. To her surprise, he avoided her mouth. Instead, he tightened his grasp on her and laid her on the mattress. His cylinder? Penis? Thing?—whatever it's called—began to rise and expand as he leaned in closer to his wife until they touched skin. They lay there still on the mattress for a moment, the newlywed bride's face showing visible discomfort. He proceeded to plunge his hips into her. She trembled, but regardless, he continued his thrusti—
Sharp fingers seized my left ear and yanked me away from the peephole. I hadn't even recovered when the fingers released me. I looked up—and to my dismay, Nyrenna stood upright and uptight. She carried a tone of disapproval and silent rage. Because of the cell's nature, I hadn't noticed her movement. Before I could say a word, she grabbed my arm and dragged me out into the hall. The others glanced at me with empathy.
"How could you take part in such activities?" she whispered and yelled at once—much like our mother.
"At our father's court, nonetheless!" By that time, she had released my arm, and we walked at a steady pace.
I peeked briefly at her abdomen—round and quite small for being eight months along, unlike her last four pregnancies. Unexpectedly, none of the infants made it past three months of age.
She wore a v-shaped, low-chested blue-gray dress with intricate designs in other shades near the bottom of its skirt. The sleeves spilled loosely onto her arms, with a silk ribbon of scarlet blue tied just under her bust, ending where her belly grew. The gown was sewn of thinner fabric than was customary—since we were in the midst of the dry season—but its skirt had many layers. The dress was accompanied by a thin veil that barely covered her half-braided, stretched-out coils. All of it topped with perhaps five different gold necklaces draped around her neck.
"I was just curious," I replied, with a hint of annoyance. I hoped she couldn't tell.
"Topics like that are not suitable for someone your age. I should consider telling those young ladies' fathers what I walked in on today."
What a bitch. I found it ironic how she discussed sex with such a scolding tone—as if she hadn't been doing it consistently for the past six years, excluding the thirty-eight months she'd been pregnant. I counted. I knew exactly how babies were made. I tried not to roll my eyes.
"Please don't... they're my friends," I pleaded. Regardless, I knew she wouldn't dare utter a word. I just wanted her to believe I was scared—that she had some kind of power. If that's what she needed, I was willing to play along.
She grew quiet, calmer, more ladylike. We marched another ten seconds as the silence grew louder. It wasn't an awkward silence. It was calming and complete.
"All right, I'm sorry. Behavior like what you saw is inappropriate and won't be repeated."
I didn't intend to follow through on a single word I just uttered, but it would keep her mouth shut—which was what I needed now. Not to mention, she had revealed the secret cellar to me when I was ten.
"Do not fuss, all is forgotten." Her face beamed side to side as her moderately lush lips formed a radiant smile.
We turned the corner, and two gentlemen passed by.
She would never admit it, but she was quite credulous.
"Where do you intend on taking me anyhow?" I asked out of curiosity.
"How could you forget? Today you are to meet with a sculptor." I sighed.
Mother had arranged this before she left... for... well...
Anyhow, it was arranged so that I may find a future husband. It was altogether a lengthy process. I would spend hours in one of the art rooms, still, while a sculptor nitpicked which features of mine to keep, reduce, increase, or erase altogether. Then, whenever the Nieara was portrayed and approved by Father, a mold would be fabricated from the original using scorching tar. That mold would then be filled with inexpensive metals—tin, aluminum, mostly copper to match my complexion—and shipped off to all the men Father deemed worthy of my hand: any man who could politically benefit his agenda or had the largest amount of gold to spend on my dowry. Then the proposal letters would start flooding in. At least, I hoped not. Not just yet. I still had many things to do before I was glued down by a man—and children.
"I heard Father brought one from the capital just for you."
She was as joyous as ever. Sometimes I wonder what she really thinks—about everything, in her life, perhaps in mine. She had been pregnant for most of the recent years of her life, ever since she wed. Similarly, my brother-in-law wasn't much of a gentleman. He wasn't exactly Jabari-level, but it wasn't uncommon to see him return to court at unusual hours. It wouldn't be ridiculous to assume he was in between someone's legs. People wouldn't say it to her face—or mine—but they whispered. Whispered of her "indiscretions." Whispered how she must be cursed. Whispered why she continued to try if the infants all ended up in the ground. The only way I could help her was by being compliant—so she wouldn't have another issue to deal with. So I smiled. Smiled in hopes it would bring her joy and hope. I smiled in helpless empathy.
"I doubt it will change my outcome, but all right."
"You should go to your chambers to prepare," she suggested.
We parted ways, and I headed up the stairs to the fourth floor. I already assumed she had called attendance to my rooms by now. As I ascended, I couldn't help but wonder what Amala and the others did after my departure. They most likely dispersed through the halls as quickly as possible—or maybe they stayed and watched until the end. I wonder what they witnessed. There were two guards stationed on either side of my chamber doors. The left guard opened his side of the double doors and welcomed me.
My chambers consisted of four rooms: a shower room, dining room, playroom, and, of course, a bedroom. I immediately entered the dining area, which was clean and neatly arranged with a seven-foot-long table made from trees all the way from Sewana. They're known for their natural beauty and dense forests—from what I've read. It was polished with accompanying chairs in a dark, shimmery mocha brown, large enough to seat eight comfortably. The table was dressed in a dark sage cloth. At two corners stood sculptures by my favorite artist, Moosy Yoba. One was of Adira, goddess of birth, fertility, and mercy. She was carved of wood and covered with a mixture of copper and iron. She stood, a babe in one arm, the other stretched out welcomingly. Thick cloth flowed around her body from her right shoulder, covering her down to her feet. Her hair rose high in the air—she was a beauty in every sense. Her smile was reassuring, her eyes warm. I prayed to her every time Nyrenna began her labors, and I have yet to see those prayers answered. The second statue was of Jabula, god of wisdom and law. He sat on a small stool with two tablets containing the Laws of Existence—seven on each. He was portrayed as a muscular man, broad-shouldered, about thirty years of age. He wore a single sheet of fabric with sharp folds from his right shoulder to his ankles. His face bore a medium-sized beard surrounding plump lips. His nose was prominent, his scalp covered in neck-length locs with no part visible.
I passed through and entered my bedroom. There, three maids awaited me, dress and accessories in hand. I always preferred dressing on the west side of my chamber, further from the framed glass. They knew that already. Glancing at my frame and mattress—they looked rather plain. The mattress sheet was a subtle cream white, while the cover and pillowcases were dyed crimson red. All of it was topped by Whitestone, of which the Sea Pearl was built. The paleness of Whitestone, combined with the sun of Carvella, made the palace shimmer and scintillate from the Great Sea.
The servants looked rather insipid, as always—lacking much color in their expressions and clothing.
"May we start, young lady?" one of the maids with a head wrap asked.
All the servants I've seen wrap their hair or braid it straight back. I suppose they don't have time to worry about looking elegant.
"Yes, of course, but first, can you show me what gown was picked?"
She nodded and took the gown, which had been folded on one of the other maid's arms, and laid it out on my mattress for me to observe.
It was a strapless orange marmalade gown with three layers of fabric underneath the skirt and a short, foot-long train. Imprinted all around were simplified sun motifs with vertical teardrops resembling jewels at the bottom of each in burnt orange. The breastplates were tailored to my measurements in a warmer, tanner orange, which continued around the upper waist. As I began to appreciate it, the second maid held up the second piece: a double-sleeved mini vest to be worn on top, in the same shade. The sleeves were abnormally large in comparison to my arms. On top of that, there was a second sleeve that began midway down the first and extended further. Looking at the ensemble, it wasn't hard to guess who picked it.
Nevertheless, I let the three servants dress me. As for accessories, I wore three gold chokers, each about an inch thick. I got to choose my earrings, as the pre-made outfit didn't include any, so I picked a pair of chunky oval ivory earrings gifted to me at my fifteenth anniversary. When they finished, I looked at myself in my wall mirror—it was a little foggy, definitely needed a swipe. But I looked all right, except for my hair, which had yet to be done. I sat at my nightstand. One of the maids understood what I wanted and moved to touch my hair. I stopped her before she could.
"Could you please get Amina, wherever she is? She usually attends to this part."
She nodded and headed toward the doorway.
Chapter 2: Amina
Summary:
Amina is a quiet maid who works at the Sea Pearl, the stronghold of the Thabiso clan. She has watched too many people live and die with nothing to show for it. She refuses to let her life pass by unnoticed. Determined to escape her station, she decides to seek a better future, regardless of the cost.
Chapter Text
"Shit" I cursed under my breath
I just slit my palm peeling Yams. The blood, with its vibrant red color, sipped out of slowly onto the tiny creases of my light palm. I stood as quickly as I could from my station at the kitchens and rushed to one of the water barrels at the corner of the open room. Miss Marri would freak if she saw me wasting drinking water. Rynna, who is on her knees grinding spices on a grinding stone, gave me a dirty look as she saw me grab a wooded cup and scoop some water to wash off my wound. I tore a bit of fabric from my already torn dress to stop the bleeding. I would be sent to the streets if one of the high borns found blood in their stew. Before I could make it back to my station to finish my peeling my yams. I notice steps approaching the kitchens. Nia stepped from the stairway into the floor. She scanned the room and called out.
"Mina, the young Lady Nieara requests your assistance."
"I'm coming!"
I stood up, dried my hands on my dress and met her by the stairway.
"Let me guess. her hair" I joked with her.
"Come on now" she giggled a bit while pleading, but I followed her.
The journey to lady Nieara's chambers took at least five minutes from the basements of the Sea Pearl to the fourth floor.
The lady was had only 1 years ahead of mine at 18 years of age. I have only been serving her for 2 years when I managed to get out of kitchen duty full-time at 15. From what I've seen she seemed like all other ladies of her age and status . She looked exactly like her mother, lady Lulit, before she took her life or fell ill as the Thabiso's have but it. Adira have mercy on her soul.
But people whisper, especially those in the shadows. Word around one of the madam's servants found her one morning all grey, hanging with rope surrounding her neck. The next day Azibo Thabiso, Nieara's father, announced to court his wife had passed and that she had been suffering with fever for days. Lies, I saw her the day before she committed she walked up right on her 2 feet as joyous as ever, so did everyone else, but no one dared to question his word. A week later the funeral customs began except for the viewing of the body. It was already strange they waited so long to burn her, but they lack of her body at the wake reassured my belief. I guess he didn't want the world seeing her black and blue as she was with a rope sized bruised around her neck. That would raise to many questions. About him as a man, husband, and father.
They shared so many features like their soft jaw, tenebrous skin, course hair, and round nose. Lulit was quite the beauty , so are her daughters. I just hoped they wouldn't share the same fate.
I wonder why she wanted her hair styled mid day rather then morning.
We finally made it to the fourth level and a guard,with one spear in hand and leather armor, opened the one of the round double doors. I walked pass her private dining hall. I could barely afford to eat and when I did it was nothing compare to what she ate. We reached her room. The lady turned around around smiling warmly.
"Oh there you are!"
She sat at her dresser in an orange dress, with a mirror facing her. They mirror was framed with wood the same dark oak as the dresser and it's chair.
We both quickly took a little bow and Nia met the others who stood by the lady's bed. I approached the lady and untwisted the lumped puffy twist had. I could tell she had done them herself. I opened the drawer under her dresser to find rosemary and shea butter in individual metal containers and placed them on top of the dresser.Rosemary was often mixed with animal tallow to keep it solid during the hotter months. Metal. Metal is expensive. It could've been at least 5 silvers for the can alone. That's how much I would make in a month's times.
Regardless, I began my task and took a large wooden comp by its tail, which was laid on the dresser. I started to come bottom to top to remove the waves those twists left on her hair. I had to be gentle not cause her any discomfort. When I was done, her hair was waist-length, ridged like always and detangled. This made the styling easier.I took some butters and lathered them into my palms, so they may melt. I plughted my fingertips into her scalp massaging the oils through out, then I applied more to her lengthy strands. When I was done her hair smooth as silk.
"Miss what style would you like today?" I asked.
I didn't want to know. In fact, I didn't want to live here or be a maid, and have to follow their every command. But at last, it was this or the streets...
"The same way you styled it last year for Amala's 19th" I noted and smiled. She seemed happy.
"If you do not mind me asking my lady, why do you require you hair styled?" I set about to part her hair right down the middle.
"Father brought a sculptor from the capital for me" Her face lit with joy. She always liked to pretend that she was different she didn't want
No
She didn't need what was handed to her, But she loved it, she would be nothing without it. They would be nothing.
A sculptor all for her for however long. Having a sculpture of her would mean she would be remembered past her life. People would hear the name Nieara Thabiso and picture a face. She would forever live on, while I stayed here and died here...
I separated her front strands till that middle of her scalp from the rest and twisted them so that they may be braided later on.
"That sounds wonderful!" I lied with a bright smile . I always lied. I had to.
"Tolu, can you please bring me some string?" She walked over to the playroom were Nieara did most of her embroidery and came back with a roll of black string most likely made from the finest wool.
I took the string in hand and began to pull sections apart. I continued on to form 2 slick mid-leveled pony tails. I used the string Tolu gave me to strengthen the pigtails, by wrapping it around repeatedly and ended them by knots. I comped the hair that was left out except for the front strands. I then wrapped string once again around the same hair, with some space between. I continued to do so until I reached the end of her coils. By the time I finished I ended up tying the rest of her hair 6 times, I also fluffed each segment so they would be a Circular as possible. I added some small gold cuffs at the end of each cylinder.I copied this routine for her left pigtail. This was only part of it, I then untwisted the front of her hair and divided then. I braided 2 athwart braids on each sides, flat to her scalped which fell and framed her face. As a finishing touch I added 3 rows of wooden hair beads to the four braids. All this took around 45 minutes. When I removed my hand from her braids. She took a couple seconds rotating her head to judge whether or not she favored it.
"It's perfect!" She gave me a warm smile as a thank you.
As the trio of fellow maids left Nieara's room, I followed behind and parted ways.
When the doors banged behind me I sped through the halls and galloped on the stairs back into the basement kitchens. I still had to finish peeling those Yams before supper. And if, just if I finished before nightfall, then I could go visit Nini. I finally made it back to my stool and continued peeling.
The more I peeled the darker and tougher my palms turned. I was used to it by now. My feet were even worse from constant errands and lack of proper foot wear. Not to mention today at night I had bucket duty.
By far the most disgusting part of working here. Every once in a while the nobles would shit in "chamber pots", they really rich had their carved out of copper, which stayed hidden in their shower rooms, while the rest of us had do out business out in the open in a self-dug hole. At night when they all slept we had to be careful not to wake them while collecting their pots to be dumped into Manure's Bay, which I had little fish left. I assume they didn't like the taste of shit in their waters so they moved. Gods
After a while hours I finished peeling roughly around 70 Yams and only had 3 left. The dirt on each yam stained my palms. As I gripped them and imbedded my blade just beneath their thin skin I could feel my hands numbing due to the sheer labor they endured. Until finally I was done . I left the skins there to be used for our dinner. I picked up the large redwood bowl which I had been dumping my peeled potatoes into and moved them to the closest water barrel. I had to walk back to where all containers were stored in order to grab a large cup. I made it back to the bowl by the water barrel and bowl, I popped open its lid and proceeded to transfer water from it to my bowl using the cup I had to retrieve. After the bowl was filled to the brim, I closed the barrel and washed the yams to their original light cream yellow. All that was left was to empty the bowl of water which was done. I walked about 20 feet with the bowl in hand which was twice as wide as I was, to Rynna who was presently by the wood fires with an enormous pot on top of her fire. I dropped the bowl in front of her, the wood of the bowl combined with the hard concrete floor produced a loud bang.
"Be careful not to break that bowl. It'll come out of your pay." She warned me.
Rynna was an old bitter women. She was light, at least lighter then most and thin too thin for a women her age. Her skin had a softer yellow,beige hue with big earthy eyes. Her skin crinkled and folded on itself over the years, but just looking at her now I could tell she was a seductress in her younger years. She had been working here for 53 years, long before I was born, when she was only 6. Because of the length of her duration, most who started working around the same time she did were dead or on their way to be. Giving their age they could rarely recalled their pass years. When servants start getting forgetful, slow, and sick their minds stop working so they stopped working here too. They are thrown out to the streets to be trafficked, killed, raped or worse. Yes, raped. I could never wrap my head around the idea, but I've seen lady's as old as the gods themselves getting their innocence stolen by men not older then me out of the Sea Pearl's walls. They must've have thought older women were easier to pin down.I wonder how those boys lived with themselves after. I suppose Rynna knows this and that's why she such a hard ass. Maybe she is trying to prolong her stay, avoid her faith. From what I know she never married nor did she bear any children. So she was all alone. She was already lucky to make it alive this long.
"I'll be careful next time" I responded.
She submerge the potatoes into her boiling pot. A couple droplets of water jumped and seared her skin but she did not flinch, not once. I guess she was starting to loose her sense of touch. I couldn't help but feel for her. What if I became her in 40 years. I sighed and turned around to the steps to the servant's quarters to get ready for my journey out.
The servant's quarters or slave's quarters because that's what they really were. That's what we really were to them. I shared the 20ft by 20ft with 50 other girls, they separated the rooms by gender to avoid any "accidents". The rooms were stacked side to side with thin straw grass filled mattresses laid out on the hard surface of the floor. I don't know about the other girls as I never cared talked to them much, I wasn't planning on staying here long, but I hide what I didn't want to be shared under my mattress which wasn't much except for my savings, about 100 silvers, my mother's necklace, whoever she was and a special pair of shoes with a brand new dress, it was nothing compared to what the high borms wore but it was better than what I was currently wearing. I planned on using these when I made it out of this shit hole, but I would need to plan. Plus traveling as a girl my age isn't safe so I would need a companion, preferably a man. I didn't know what I would do when I got out but I knew I had to, somehow, regardless of the circumstances. The mattress itself self was strained to a dirty yellow brown from lack of maintenance.
As of my companion I had my eyes on Xolan. He was much taller than me, and nicer then the men I've met. He was 16 and he a stable boy. Meaning he had excess to the horses, which we would need if we were going to make it out of this putrid city. I've heard Carevelle has free access to water. I wasn't sure about the housing situation. Like most of the servants he has was very slim, Getting fat was a luxury only afforded by the rich.
I sat on my mattress and felt for my hair currently it was tied at the back of my neck with a couple stray hairs poking out. I wondered if I should change it. But the journey to Adisa and my nephews was long enough. I didn't need to delay my leave. I took 2 slivers from my savings to buy them so sweets on the way. I placed it in my dress pouch. I stood up and made my way out of the maid's quarters where most people at court lived to the eastern most tower. Where the Xolan's stables is located. Anytime I wanted to go out I always needed a companion. To make sure I returned unharmed physically. I had to take one of the back doors out, the main entrance with the 15 foot long stairs weren't for servants. As soon as I stepped out I was hit with the odor of the city. The stink lingered in my nostrils. It smelled of feces from Manure's Bag which wasn't too far, the lack of hygiene of the people, who would waste money on showing when they barely had enough to drink?, and the scent of rodding body's from outside the walls. The red soil which had been bathing under the glaring rays of the sun for hours, scorched my feet, as they only had a thin sole beneath them. I hopped along to avoid letting my soles touch the soil. Far ahead, I catcher sight of the stables, which was unstably built with dark oak on 3 sides, with the 4th one opened for retrieving horses. This was only 1 of the 5 stables at The Sea Pearl. This one had 8 dividers enough for 8 horses, but other stables are much bigger. Each stall was bedded with dried straw grass. On top of the last stall was a lofted level with a latter where Xolan and kellan slept , covered in dried grass also.
When my feet finally reached the shaded stalls I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt I looked pretty silly hopping my way here. Xolan and his friend Kellan had on pairs of black plain loose fitting pants each which tightened around their ankles due to a ribbon of fabric about 2 inches wide, white torn up shirts which had been greyed by dirt, and opened toed sandals with thick soles to protect their feet from the heat.
"What in the nine hells were you doing?" They burst into laughter. They were feeding each feeding a horse. I admit I looked ridiculous but I was was in a hurry. I rolled my eyes and moved forward.
"It wasn't that funny" I replied with heavy annoyance.
"It was" Kellan replied back. He starts laughing even louder. After roughly 3 seconds they calm down and Xolan asks "Anyhow, what brings you here?" He wiped a tear off his smooth, shining cheek.
"I plan on going to my sister's to visit today as quickly as possible. I was hoping at least one of you guys would come along."
They both paused and looked at each other. I knew common decency wouldn't allow both of them to refuse my offer. They both knew what could happened if I when out there alone.
"What's in it for us?" Xolan questioned me with a sense of pride. They believed they were the highest of men and all men should strive to be them. They did not say it directly but I could. They're asses.
I rolled my eyes.
"The more time you guys spent torturing me the less time I will have to see her. Not to mention it's only about a short walk from here."
"Alright, fine I'll go" Xolan answered. For that I was glad. This would give me some time to try to ease him to the idea of leaving with me.
He dropped the horsefeed he had in hand.
"Make sure you get the rest of them feed, we'll be back by night fall" He communicated to kellan.
Kellan agreed by nodding back.
While we walked at similar pace to the gates we began conversing.
"Do you even like horses?" I asked
"Why would I work in the stables if I didn't." He chuckled. My question amused him.
"Oh" I was stunned. Working for him was a choice?
"So you like your job?" I questioned him with a tone of curiosity.
"I guess so. I mean the pay isn't great, but what jobs actually have good pay, you know" he face wrinkled a bit wondering.
"So you plan on staying here?" A group of fellow servants, a mixed group, passed beside us.
"I don't know. I'm still roughly young I have Time to figure out what I want in life" He kicked a pile of dirt. I could tell he was a bit confused himself. My question scratched his mind. He was unsure of his future, but he needn't be.
"Umm, I see" I placed my hand horizontally across my forehead before looking up at the sun to get an idea of how much time I had left before nightfall. The beams of the sun weakened my irises.
"And you? Do you plan on staying here like forever or just until you can?" I couldn't tell if her genuinely curious about me or just felt it was the polite thing to do.
"To be frank I also don't know. I guess I'm also waiting to see what the future holds"
I lied, again. I knew exactly what I wanted for my future. But I couldn't tell him just yet if I wanted him to agree. He would freak and think I was delusional. Most here are contempt with this life believing there is nothing beyond worth while because that is what they are taught and told, to be good little sergeants and follow rules to honor the Gods their family, spouse, and children themselves. I just hoped Xolan wasn't one of them.
We arrived at the gates with about 4 guards on each side. This wasn't the first time both of had left the palace so the guards were familiar with our faces. They openned one the lengthy wooded blanked doors. The hassle and tassel of the city welcomed as we stepped foot outside the palace's gates.
Chapter 3: Chibi
Summary:
Chibi is a young man living in a brothel in Zubayra, the capital of Thandoré. His mother, a prostitute, died leaving him to care for his younger sister, Esi. For years they have lived under the roof of Ama, a woman who once offered them shelter. Now, Ama wants Esi to begin earning her place in the only home they have ever known. Chibi is unwilling to let his sister pay that price, so he must find a way to provide for them both before it is too late.
Chapter Text
"So what are you going to do about it?" Femi asked, while taking a piece of his bread. It was flat and round with a crème yellow tone accompanied with specs of dark to light to dark brown. As he tore it steam flowed from its layers.
I just explained what Ama asked of Esi to him.
He took the piece of bread to his mouth.
"I don't know, I mean can you fucking believe it" I was enraged
"Actually I can" he giggled a bit. I couldn't believe him, this wasn't funny.
"I mean the lady has been housing you and our sister for practically nothing. It's not strange to see why she would want something in return." He tried to empathize with her.
"but she is only 11, what kind of man would want those kinds of services from a child!" I pleaded with him, I was desperate to try to reason with him.
"If you talk any long you might start growing a pussy" he bursted out laughing.
Femi an average man. He at his age of 21, only one year over mine, he had no wife, rarely any friends whatsoever. I wondered if he thought I'd how much he was wasting his life. In retrospect, I'm also wasting mine. He was average-hight with his long tight curls pulled back into a pony tail, which his father disapproved of. He was clean shaven with moderate lips and a flat round nose. His soft chaw and thing brows framed his face, and his plain eyes didn't stick out much.
I gave him a the demeaning glare. How could he joke about knowing how much Esi means to me? All that we've been through. I tried not to let it bother me much.
"But, I can't let her go down that road." I took a sip of my beer. The bitter sweet tardiness eased my throat.
"How about you find a job? You know a real one" He said with a tone of sarcasm.
As if that hadn't been the obvious answer. As if I myself haven't thought of that but then again who is hiring?
"No shit. You don't think I've thought about it. Even if I didn't what jobs pay's enough to put housing and necessities for 2 or comes with housing where they would allow me to keep her by my side " I laid back on my chair a bit more. His face softened a little.
I assume he felt the weight of the situation.
"My aunt runs a dye shop right here in Zubayra, it's à lengthy walk from here, Closer to the Ivories by the castle, but it pays well and I could put a good word in for you?" He asked not sure if I would take the job.
Ivories was what us regulars called the nobles, who always happen to be carry pounds of gold, jewels, and ivory around them every time they took time out of their previous day to come look at us, like cattle.
A dye shop. I would have spent hours wetting and waxing fabric for ivories to wear. I think Femi thought of it as a more feminine job. That was why he was hesitant to tell me about it. Nevertheless, as long as it pays well I don't really give it too much thought.
"Yea?" I questioned, just to make sure he was not bluffing.
"Yes, and you could rent a bed and breakfast for you and Esi. It wouldn't be a long term plan but it would stop her from getting into whoredom." His voice softened a bit and a small reassuring smirk crossed his face.
"If you're not bluffing, then that would be great." he gave me an agreement nod.
Femi raised his arm and a waitress came by our table.
"More beer please"
"Alright just a second" as she turned around, he made it his mission to get a good look at her ass. I rolled my eyes as he glacéd back me after the deed. I mean who could stop him. This was his father's Inn after all, chances are that waitress needed this job. The large rectangular cabin had an old stretch of liquor and must. I for one didn't mind the smell, it was familiar to my nose, but some would vomit if they stepped in. The bar, which was the first floor of the Inn, was full with mostly men some around my age as me some even older, much older. The table we sat at was old, wooden, and corroded. Unlike the other tables here ours only had 2 people sitting. The waitress came back with 2 cups of beer. I assumed one of them was mine. But I had been here for a while. Not to mention after what Ama asked I shouldn't be leaving Esi at the brothel alone for too long.
I pushed the cups away from myself towards Femi and nodded my head in disagreement.
"I should probably get home now. I can't leave Esi alone there for too long now."
To my surprise he didn't argue and just let me off with a nod.
I pushed the inn's door and was welcomed by the rabble and odious atmosphere of the capital. The street that lead me out of the inn was narrow and crowded with men, women, and an usually amount of children. As I made my way through I made contact with many others, but it didn't bother me I was used to it. The Fire clay tiled roofs of the neighboring buildings shielded my skin from the searing sun. The soil then turned mud, which was wetted by piss,shit, and dirty bath water, slushed in between my toes with each step I took.
I noticed 4 children running through the streets nude. Most mothers didn't bother dressing their young. What was the use of spending coin on clothes they were bound to grow out of it one time. I never understood why women had children. When I got out of that alley I entered a larger street where carriages intertwined with the street.
As I waited for carriages to pass I was able to get a full view of brothel,which was right across the road. That brothel was my home and the only one I've ever know. It was a 2 story Brownstone building, with its edges rounded. As you can imagine it didn't have a lot of windows and the windows that were there were darkened by blinds. The building was hooded by and a dark blue-grey tiled, which poked the sky with its length. On the half-coned tile on one side was a circular window framed with wood. The last carriage rolled by and away from me. I stepped foot on the road and made my way to the building. I swing one of the doors open and it quickly closes its self behind.
I was welcomed in with the blasting sound of moans through out, of both costumers and workers. I tried to block it out I always did.
Fucking.
I always found it strange.
My first recollection of my childhood was sex.
I think I was only 4 maybe 5 the memory is still blurry. I walked in mama with one of her clients. He was old, wrinkled, and grey. His skin drooped off his bone. His boxy chest was meshed with white strands all over, and his slim hairy legs failed to let him stand, so he sat with his hand keeping him up on the mattress. His mouth, which was neighboring his prolonged beard, was wide open emitting a foul noise. Mama was to top, right in his crotch with her legs resting on the mattress. Her torso arched with her arms backwards helping her maintain her motion. She kept on moving forward and back, forward and back and forward slowly. Her breast laid on her chest, following the same motion with her head hanging back and her hair hung high, not making eyes contact with the old man. Her mouth was wide open, wider than his uttering an ungodly sound. Over and over again. She turned her head and saw me. She saw me looking at her, what she was doing and she turned and her back and continued as if nothing had just happened. Juji, she also worked like mama, she walked by and saw me standing there motionless and scooped me into her arms.
The scent of lavender filled my nostrils, Ama always made sure it smelled nice in here, womanly. The moans were deafening to my ears, familiar yet bothersome. I walked throw the hall through the hall connected to the main doors. As I marched, I tried as much as I could to block the multiple bodies stacking, folding, and molding onto each other. I reached the stairs on my way to the garret, where I ordered Esi to stay until I came back. When I stepped onto the second floor, I walked even faster as these were the private rooms. Usually reserved for people with money to spend, people with more specific taste. Their tastes often lead to louder sounds, screams. I assume it's the ladies in pain. The stairs to the garret were narrow and flimsy built with molding oak. The garret was pyramid shaped, at its highest 7 feet tall, where I could touch its tile, and less than a feet at the narrowest. Right in the center was a large thinly filled mattress, where me and Esi slept. The large window on the roof lit our living area during the day. Esi sat on the floor with some corn husks in hand, some on the floor. She looked up towards my direction when she heard the creek of the blanks as I step off the stairway and in.
"Oh there you are!" She exclaimed with a smile on her face. She had on a plain piece of gray-brown cloths wrapped around her chest, which tied itself on her back, and the same colored cloth shaped into a skirt with started a little below her waist and ended just below her knees. She was also currently shoe-less.
I walked up to her and sat down.
"What are you doing?" I asked with a smile. I always liked how she lit up when I asked her anything.
"Making a doll" her gazed had returned to her tusk filled hands. She folded, twisted, and layered the corn husk, while her expression grew frustrated.
"It doesn't seem to be working out so well" I commented while slightly raising my eyebrows in the process.
She rolled her eyes.
"Just wait" she seemed very confident.
I remember when she was born, I was 9. Mama screamed like a lamp being slaughtered, while the other ladies surrounded her. 2 were helping her with the delivery. I remember being afraid, I thought she was hurt, sick of some kind. She was stranding, unclothed, puffy cheeks, and tears in her eyes. Then, she was told to push one last time, her body was drenched with sweat. my ears almost exploded, followed by a gush of liquid coming from in between her legs. An abnormally large creature covered in with white-yellow sludge slipped out from her groin. It cried and cried. Ama took it by its head, the sludge stained her thin vail dress.
She brought Esi over to a wooden tub filled with clean new water and started bathing her. After a short while she finished and Esi was was free of the sludge, but she was still abnormally pale, I thought. Ama returned back and handed baby Esi to mama. Her cheeks wrinkled forming a smile. She was filled with joy as she held the still crying Esi on her chest.
"Come here Chibi come meet your..." she took Esi off her chest and into her arms to get a look at her genitals.
"Sister!" The other girls made way for me so I could finally get a clear view. I walked up to her and she handed Esi.
I brought my hand to her scalp with hair which had been braided flat down, this time with all kinds of swirls and turns, tailing off to the back of her neck. Her hair was a tan dark brown, being closely in color to her skin. Neither me or mama had that color of hair, we both had dark black strands. I guess that's one thing she get from her father.
"And the new hair?" I continued after I was finished observing her weave the husk.
"Akilah did it. It still hurts a bit" She swiftly
brushed my hand off her head. I chuckled a little.
"Can you stop?" her tone grew a little with anger and disapproval as she continued her husk doll, faster.
"You know what i'm talking about now" she softened a bit as if she was disappointed in me. I stayed quiet, I just didn't know what to say. And of course I knew what she meant, she wanted to talk about what Ama told us this morning. That Esi had to start "earning her keep". I was disgusted. Our mother had been her dearest friend for years, and she just sells her daughter like cargo.
We tried to ignore the noise coming from the floors beneath.
Her doll now had a full torso, so she put it down and moved a bit further to look at me directly.
I sighed.
"What she said doesn't matter, it will never happen!" I rose my voice out of anger not for her but for Ama. She was a second mother to me.
"But...but If I don't we end up on the streets" her face started to fold and her eyes turned a light shade of pink.
"And you know what happe—" Her voice cracked and turned mushy and sloppy. She broke into tears before she could finish and her cheeks began to puff up. She brung her palms to her face, hiding her expression.
I moved closer to her and wrapped my arms around her, bringing her face to my chest. We just sat there for a while as her tears trenched my shirt, probably combined with a little snot. With my arms wrapped around her her head, I could feel her small heart beats. My breathing slowed for a bit to let her breath for a while. When she was done weeping she pulled herself away from my chest and wiped off any remaining tears on. She took short sharp breaths trying to stop herself from continuing her weeping. She moved a bit further away from me.
"So what now" her voice was still a little shaken.
" I was just out talking to Femi. He mentioned his Aunt runs a dye shop." I could feel my face brightening with hope.
"And" she was anticipating my response.
"He says he'll but in a good word for me. It's not a great job but the pays enough for a bed and necessities" I could see her face getting a little less puffier as I talked.
"So we have a way out, and Gods forbid you'll never become a common whore" I placed my hand on her left shoulder with excitement. But to my surprise, she wasn't jumping up and down with joy. She held an expression of confusion, as if she was thinking about whether or not this was good.
"But that means we'll have to move, right?" She questioned me.
"Yes" I responded stunt.
"What about Ama, Akilah, Abeni, Babirye,Eshe, and all the others!"
I took a deep breath. I understood her frustrations. Those were her only friends since I didn't let her stay out for too long , she could have been stolen by one of those groups. There're are multiple, they walk around handing sugar canes to little children and the ones who were foolish enough to take it were never seen again. Mostly, likely sold into slavery. It was illegal, but nobody cared enough about them to do anything. They snatched Femi's little cousin, Zeno, a couple months prior. He was was only 7 running around and eating dirt.
We live in a cruel world, I have to protect her from it.
"Her dye shop is closer to the Royal palaces, which is filled with guards men, so it's much safer than there."
We lived on southeastern part of Zubaya, closer to the wall than most.
The wall was at least 15feet thick, made of basalt stone sloppily stacked on top of each other for 50 feet, its cracks filled with a mixture of hardened clay and sand. During the day, they leave the gates opened, so anyone who wished could get in and out of the capital. Most were merchants who came in to sell during market days, others were part of these groups, and in their wagons, when they were on their journey out the capital, were unconscious children.
"So, you can go out and make friends, Ones closer to your age" I chuckled, as she wiped off the final tear off her cheeks and her face filled with delight.
She turned away from me and started making her doll's head. She used a small round rock as the base, then wrapped it with a piece of husk. I stood still simply just observing, as she used dry rice stems to wrap the head around her doll's torso.
she reminded me of our mother, when she was alive.