35 Little silence

After an unknown amount of days, they reached some sort of town and brought her to a slave merchant. It was the first time she ever saw the inside of a man tribe but she wasn't in any mood to admire it.

The merchant got angry at her captors right from the get go. That woman was full of fat and older than most of the huntress that caught her.

"What the fuck do you expect me to do with a wingless bird?"

"I don't know, I'm sure you can find something to do with her."

After days of practice, Celtine had managed to stand shakily by herself and was doing so in front of the big woman detailing her with her eyes.

"She can barely stand by herself! You bunch of idiots, the center of gravity of those birds is at the juncture between their wings and the rest of their body. If you remove those things, they just fall forward, look."

She gave a small push to the back of Celtine's head. She tried her best to not fall by swinging her hands, freed for the occasion, but failed and collapsed forward.

"Not only that." Followed the slaver. "Those from that tribe are really weak. She won't be able to do any sort of manual labor."

"Come on, a bit of training can fix that no?" Asked one of the huntress.

The fat laughed in derision.

"You really don't know a thing about them. It's not because they have weak muscles, it's because their very bones are weak. Those things are almost empty. I'm sure any of you could take her arm between their hands and snap it in half. You dragged her up to here, haven't you noticed how light she was? Even if she was to become strong enough to be useful, her bones would snap under any kind of meaningful pressure."

"But she is a storm witch, that has to count for something! She even killed one of us."

"Is that why you gagged her? That just makes it even worse. They can't do manual labor for shit but they do have a good voice, they make for popular bards or songstress but think for a second. Who would pay to have someone sing for them knowing they could kill them with just their voice. That would be utterly insane. Not only that but if I do sell her for that, I could be held accountable for the resulting catastrophe.

Aside from that, she is pretty despite her weird eyes and her long teeth, she could be a good bed slave but wait, she is a cursed-blood! Most would never touch her and those that are into that kind of thing will complain about the missing parts! Really, without her wings, she's no better than trash."

Celtine already knew that without her wings she was just a burden but it still hurt to hear it. Some new tears dripped on the slave dealer's floor.

"Then what? You aren't gonna buy her?"

"At best, I could offer you two and a half silver coins for her."

"That's so low!"

"But truly, I don't even know if she is worth that, the only thing going for her is her looks and there are more than enough women going around already for anyone to pick a slave just by its looks. Then, I will have to teach her something useful but if she doesn't want to learn, I will lose whatever I am investing here."

"How much did it cost us to keep her alive?" Asked one of the girls to their spell caster.

"Around five crowns..."

They all fell silent. Pointless, this whole thing had been utterly pointless.

"Even if you say that, I'm not willing to go any higher." Said the fat one.

"Fine, just take her." Said Tacey, the demon, gloomily. "Don't worry about those five crowns, I'll take responsibility for them. It's my fault after all."

They received their coins and left her there with the slave dealer. She got locked up in a cell for a few days before the fat women decided it wasn't worth it to risk losing on her so she ended up in a group deal for another slaver. Then, that one sold her off to another one and then, another one.

She spent half a year dragged from one place to the next, being passed around by slavers who didn't know what to do with her. The whole time, they kept her gagged to keep her from singing. Her life had no point, she was moved here and there, locked up in cells after cells with nothing to do to pass the time. All she could do was to hope that at some point, they would free her mouth and let her sing again. If they had asked her, she would have told them that the wind would not listen to her anymore but they did not dare let her open her mouth. Every time she tried to say something between bites of her meals, they would rush forward to snap her mouth shut in fear.

Some were so scared they placed two huge guards around her when it was time to eat. They would hold her still as they fed her themselves, afraid she would utter a word.

And so, she waited alone in sadness and waited some more. At one point, she found herself in the stock of a strange guy with a rat-like face. He brought her to a room with nothing but a chair with straps. Two other men tied her to the chair with the straps and left with the slaver, leaving her alone in the room.

It wasn't the first time she was left alone in a room but it was the first time they bound her to a chair. Her back was very painful, it was touching the chair, it hurt. She couldn't move because of the straps, she couldn't get away from the pain. Even now, she still felt pain in her wings most of the time, even though she knew they weren't there. The pain she was experiencing right now was different however. This pain was real, it was the two bits of sawed off bones, digging in her flesh from behind.

Ever since the day she lost her wings, she had not been able place her back against anything at all. Only the ragged clothes they gave her did not bring her intense pain. Sitting in that chair was simply a torture. She wanted nothing more at this moment than for them to come back.

After having complained and moaned through her gag for a while. The door opened once more to let in the rat faced slaver and a mage wearing the usual clothes full of pockets and hanging bits.

"That is the one." The slaver told the mage as they entered the room.

"Alright, let's start then." He looked at her with a smile and fetched a long white thread from one of his many pockets. "Don't worry, It will not take any time and it won't hurt a bit."

Holding the thread in both hands, he approached until he was only a step away from her and reached around her neck to tie the thread. 'What is he doing?' She wondered. He tied it in a knot she couldn't see and turned it so the remaining thread would hang in front of her. Was it one of their strange customs?

Then, he grabbed into another of his pockets and fetched two very tiny beaks. He tied each of them to one end of the thread as he told her what it was.

"Those are cackler beaks."

She had no idea what a cackler was but seeing the reaction of the other man, it wasn't something pleasant. Her back was still hurting very much but she was way too puzzled about what he was doing to waste energy on some pointless struggle.

The mage firmly gripped one end of the thread in each of his fist and crouched in front of her to be at her eye level. Then, he started talking quickly but most of what he said was nonsense. She could tell it was a different language than the one the rest of the man tribes usually used but it made no difference to her.

All languages were from the wind, as long as the words were said out loud, she could understand them. The words themselves didn't matter, she could hear their meaning drifting in the air. Those though, made no sense.

They meant nothing at all, it was all just a jumble of concepts lacking contexts. all she remembered from his rapid speech was that he asked for the thread to seal the truth, whatever that meant.

Then, at the end of his speech, he suddenly yanked at both ends of the white thread with all his strength. Her eyes went wide when she thought he would strangle her with it but instead, he raised his hands and dangled the knot in front of her eyes. The thread had been cleanly cut, just after the knot, it was now just two small length of thread tied together. Did it snap? Then, it meant the rest of it was still around her neck, why didn't she feel it?

The mage smiled and said "All done. Now, let's see if it worked."

He put the remains of the thread and the beaks in an upper pocket of his clothes and untied her gag to her great confusion and the apprehension of the slaver.

"Alright, can you tell me if you are hurting anywhere?"

Of course, her back was hurting so she went ahead and said it.

'Could you please untie me, my back hurts.' Wrong, something felt horribly wrong, what was it? Her voice, no words came out. She couldn't hear her own voice. She felt the blood drain off her face and her hair stood on end. What had he done!

He smiled "Good, the first test is a success. Now, if you can tell me just the one word 'please', I am willing to release you from slavery. Go on give it your best."

She didn't try to say please at all, she just screamed with all her strength. 'What did you do? Please not my voice! What is happening?' But not even wind passed her lips. It was impossible, how did this happen, how did he steal her voice? Her head spun from the emotion. She struggled in the chair as she felt like her mind would collapse.

"It's a great success." Declared the mage.

"Yes, thank you for your services." Replied the slave trader.

"I have no idea who created that spell but it's one hell of a nasty curse, it doesn't even leave a mark. Whoever made it is a genius."

"I feel relieved about that, if I had hired a surgeon to help me instead, the scar would probably have lowered her price even more."

"Of course, a cute thing like her would be really sad to look at with a long scar across her neck."

The two men followed their conversation as they left both the room and Celtine still bound in the chair. She fought against the bindings until she bled and screamed until she was so breathless she blacked out but no sounds ever left the confines of agonizing heart.

They had taken it away and she had not even resisted, it had never even crossed her mind. She had lost her treasured voice to a man she saw for a single minute in her entire life and a piece of white thread.

Fly and sing, fly and sing, that was what she did, that was her life. Fly and sing, that was who she was. Now, with no wings to fly and no voice to sing, what remained of her? What was she now?

After she had spent every bit of energy and emotion she had in her, she collapsed in the chair and moved no more. Workers came back later to bring her back to her cell. They untied her and dragged her in the corridors, she made no attempt to hold herself up, letting her feet scrape the stone floors.

They pushed her in the cell and she made no effort to cushion her fall. She collapsed on the cold floor and hurt her head but made no sound, not because she couldn't but because she had none left to make. This time, she truly had nothing left, nothing to look forward to but pain and misery. She closed her reddened eyes and decided that whatever was to happen to her from then on, she would not move at all. With some luck they would just end her and her torments. As long as she closed her eyes, she could still sing in her head with her mind's voice.

What would her parents say if they were to see her now, like this? They would surely weep. She didn't want them to see her wingless, voiceless self. It would be too difficult to look at her, painful. It would be best if they never knew. She knew that they had probably been desperately looking for her but she wondered if, after half a year had passed, they were still holding hope that she would be brought back alive to them. She hoped not, she didn't want them to be disappointed again.

***

The rat-faced slaver decided that, now that she had no voice, he could train her to do useful things and gain some money from her sale. He quickly found her unwillingness to cooperate. She would not eat, she would not drink, she would not stand up or resist him whatever he tried to do to get a reaction out of her.

Once, he forcefully opened her eyelids with his fingers to have a look. Her eyes weren't dead but she just looked at him like you would a frog standing on the roadside, like an utterly inconsequential creature. Whatever he said, his words did not seem to reach her.

He could not understand why she was doing this to him. He did of course remove her voice but it was for her own good. With it, she had no future. No one would buy her with such a risk attached to her and the slavers couldn't keep her around forever either. Eventually, they would have to part with her, one way or another. Unlike the other slavers she had had belonged to, he had been willing to take a risk and invest in her.

There was a lot of things she couldn't do but he had seen some potential in her. She could not do hard labor but, she was young and pleasing to the eye. If he could only teach her how to stand up properly and dress her up nicely, she would make for a good assistant for a mage or a noble. Provided of course that she learned the letters. After all, who did not want to be assisted by an exotic beauty? Since she was a cursed-blood, wives and lovers wouldn't be all that annoyed either by the charm of the servant.

Not only that, but he was almost never wrong on the quality of the people around him. When looking at someone, he instinctually (1) knew who was talented and who wasn't, who would go far and who was destined to end as a sacrificial pawn. He knew she could do great, she had it in her, she just needed a little help.

First, he had trained her for weeks to stand up. If she couldn't stand and walk, there was no hope and no point in investing. Thankfully, she did manage to keep herself straight after a while. From there, he was quite convinced he could make a lot of profit from her. He had acquired her for half a silver but with some training in manners and knowledge of letters, he would be able to sell her back for gold.

This was where his plans took a turn for the worse. Aside from her back wound which she possessed before he had acquired her, there was not a scar of even a scratch on her. He had been very careful with this fragile item, he even made sure many times that the removal of her voice would not affect her condition and wouldn't leave a mark. Still, when he saw her afterwards, it was like her soul had left her body.

After many attempts to communicate with her, he went to the mage who had placed the curse for him and brought him back to her. He complained that he had done something wrong as she went from perfectly fine to lifeless in less than a day but the mage denied all responsibility. He even failed to provide any input on how to restore her vigor.

He had already spent a lot for that curse, he was very unwilling to give up on her potential profit now. Instead of giving up and cutting off his losses, he chose to invest more in her. He was a great slaver of Bêtéclair after all, he was surrounded by talents of all sorts, surely, someone would have some trick for him to use.

***

After the loss of her voice, the rat faced merchant did a lot of strange things she didn't pay any attention too. He tried to talk to her for hours on end but she just sang over all his words. He tried to shout and he tried to whisper, he tried slaps and caress, food with divine smells and beautiful dresses but none managed to make her even open her eyes.

She did not care what he did, it had nothing to do with herself. Then, when she thought he had given up, he came back with someone in tow. It was a physician. After an examination he concluded that her body was alright, it was her mind that wasn't so he could not fix it. But her mind was alright, it was the world instead that wasn't and she had no reason to stay in it.

Then, The rat-faced slaver brought a new person. That one tried to interest her in a street magic trick but failed so he was brought out. Then, the slave trader brought another and another, each more strange than the last. He brought a snake charmer, a painter, a poet, a dancer, nothing would do. Even the hypnotist failed since she refused to open her eyes.

She was parched and hungry enough to feel painful from all over her body but she had enough, she did not want to stay alive any longer. The Slaver had no choice but to force her to eat and drink. It was not that hard either since she didn't resist, she just let him do what he pleased with her body. It was a prison to her soul after all, she didn't care what happened to it.

After two weeks of being brought strange people every day, she could not help but wonder why wasn't the slaver giving up? Whatever it was he wanted she would not give it to him, why wasn't he throwing her away already? Instead he tried ever stranger things.

One day, he brought in yet another mage. She was dragged to a table, laid on her stomach on top of it and made to drink some foul liquid.

"Do not worry slaver, that's just some glutonek venom, standard procedure. She just won't be able to move for a while as a carve the seal."

"I know all that, it's not what I worry about, she was already unmoving before. What I'm worried about is if it will work or not."

The mage did not answer and used a small knife to carve something on her back, over her heart. It was painful and very close to where her wings once were which made it even harder to ignore. She screamed silently of pain and opened her eyes to look but found herself starring at an empty wall. What were they doing with her back?

"Here, it's done." Said the mage after having butchered her back for almost an hour and having chanted the most complicated and senseless thing she ever heard. "Just let a drop of your blood touch the seal to finish, I'm sure you know how this all works by now."

"Of course I know." Said the slaver. She felt a droplet of liquid fall on her back but didn't feel anything special aside from that.

"Are you sure it was a good idea to spend all that on this one slave? From what you told me, I don't think it will fix your problem." Said the mage.

"Whatever, in the end, it's just a bit of money. If it really doesn't work I'll sell her off cheap somewhere and put my effort into a slave that is at least trying to get a better life."

That was great, that meant it was almost over, all she had to do was fail at whatever he would have her do next.

Much later, in her cell, the slaver came to talk to her again. He opened her eyelids with his fingers again to tell her what he wanted while looking at her in the eyes.

"I know you understand what I am saying. You just refuse to listen. I want to make you fit to serve a noble, don't you understand this is the highest in society a cursed-blood could ever reach? You would be well fed, dressed and never left cold or roofless for the rest of your life. You are wasting the chance I am giving you. I do not understand what it is you are trying to do, I do not understand why you remain motionless. Can't you see I am doing my best to help you?"

He took her voice, that was far from helping her, that was the opposite. She didn't care about the man-tribes leaders, and she didn't care being above or below other slaves. Whatever happened from now on, her life couldn't possibly get any worse and no matter what she did, it would never get any better either without her voice or wings.

"I don't understand you, if your life is so terrible, why aren't working hard to make it better? Because I know that you can and that you have it in you to do great things, I chose to go all in with you. Nobles would never invest in a personal slave that could betray them so I went forward and had a seal engraved onto your back. That seal will kill you if your master dies and pain you if the master will it or you disobey an order. It's true that some use it as some sort of torture device but it is mostly used to ensure loyalty. Right now, I am your master."

That meant that if she could kill him now, she would die as well. Could she do it this time? He was just beside her, if she jumped on him now, maybe even the weak her would be able to kill him. He got up before she could figure out how to do such a thing and placed his back against the nearby wall.

"I will give you one more chance. I will give you a set of orders you will have to follow. If you do, I will once again try my best to better you. If you do not follow them though, I will have no other choice than to sell you off to whoever wants to buy you cheap. First of all, get up."

Celtine got up from the ground with great difficulty. Of course her goal wasn't really to obey him but to reach and chomp on his throat instead but the slaver did not see it that way.

"I knew it! I know you will go far. Now, make a few steps forward." He said excitedly.

She made one, than two steps towards him, because she had eaten so little recently, her strength was feeble. Two steps were not enough to reach him so she made another and another. With the way she looked, The slaver started to realize that something was wrong.

"Okay, that's enough, stop now."

She didn't and got closer to him, she started to feel pain in her heart. She ignored it and kept moving forward.

"I said stop, it's an order! what are you even trying to do?"

The pain became sharp but instead of stopping, she lunged forward and dug her fangs into his neck, taking him by surprise. That was it, she was doing it! The guy screamed and she tasted his blood in her mouth. Then, a pain as powerful as the one that took her wings exploded across her body. The sensation coming from her heart was so intense, she was unable to resist it and fainted with her teeth still planted in his neck.

The rest of her story was simple. Since she woke up, it meant she had failed. Afterwards, the slaver managed to sell her to a man who said he needed a lot of seal-branded slaves.

After a long ceremony to transfer the rights over her life, she was moved once more to a new place and confined in the room she now sat in, with many other slaves, all dressed in green and all seal-branded. They did not seem as miserable as her but she did not really care.

Some were talking to each other about what would happen to them from now on. They knew what was about to happen and seemed hopeful about their future. She on the other hand just wondered how hard it would be to kill her next master, or at the very least, have him kill her.

What was better between doing nothing until her torments ended or putting an end to it herself, she wasn't sure. She closed her eyes and sang in her head again, until it was over, this was all she could do, this was what was left of her.

***

This book was written with the intent of informing our citizens and visitors from far away about what you could expect to see in our vast forests. With this duty in mind, the imperial comity of information and education and myself decided to add an entry about the gods in this bestiary.

The gods are of course not creatures nor some kind of animal but for both your own safety and the prosperity of the empire as a whole, it is important to both know them and how to act in their presence. Your chances of ever meeting one are rather slim to say the least but if you ever do, you will be glad to have read this entry.

First of all, what are the gods? Clearly, their existence is far superior to our own. The gods created all life in this world, from the trees and grass to the monsters and animals including unnameables of chaos and the human race itself. They made us all and are far above us but they aren't ruling us.

In his famous encounter with the god Gluttony, hero Alphonso Gillano asked him why were they not ruling over mankind and giving out those trials instead. Because of how long ago this was and how far away from us this encounter took place, the current translation might be off but here are the words Gluttony answered: "It would be pointless to rule over cattle. Don't worry, I'm not eating humans anymore, the immortal told me to stop because it was interfering with the test."

Gluttony would not answer any more inquiries but many points in his answer ignited the hearts of scholars for generations. Who is the immortal? It seemed to be a title instead of a name like the gods usually use. Who would be able to force gluttony itself to stop eating? What was the test he referred to? Who or what was being tested and for what purpose? We still do not know to this day.

Many others having heard of this legendary encounter asked their own questions to gods they met to the peril of their lives. Answers varied greatly between gods from polite to outright insulting but they all agreed on one point; the humans are too low for them to even bother ruling us, it would be a waste of their time.

As for the immortal, throughout all history, it was only mentioned a second time, in our very own empire by the goddess Life. She was asked by Great-mother Marta the following: "Some gods look like humans, some look like cursed-bloods and some even look like monsters, what makes a god a god." The answer was: "We aren't gods by our own standards, it is just you mortals who keep calling us that. If there is one thing qualified to be called a god in this universe, it will be the immortal." Since then, it has been surmised that the immortal is the god of the gods. That entity has never been seen and has no trial ground but it does exist.

All that knowledge is indeed interesting but far from useful so I will refrain from writing further on this and go back to the topic at hand, how to survive an encounter with a god. Finding a god will either be the best thing to happen in your life or the worse.

First of all, as you should know from the many stories circulating in the empire including the famous "Words of truth" and "The death seer watch", you should never, ever, in any circumstances, disrespect a god. If one insults you, nod in agreement, if you are asked something, answer politely, never lie to one and do whatever is asked of you. They could will the empire out of existence easily and by the morrow, no trace of Steelwood would be found. Keep your head cool, remember who you are facing and stay humble. Boasting in front of one would end just as badly as insulting one.

The second important rule is to be very careful about what you ask of them. Gods aren't evil but are also far from benevolent, they have a strong tendency to twist your words into whatever they find most entertaining and it is a known fact that gods have some strange interpretation of the word 'entertainment'. Asking for something from them is risky at best but people still do it incessantly, thinking that they would be able to outsmart a god. Trust me, this will not happen, they perfectly know what you mean and want and if they ever feel like you are trying to trick them into doing something, you will regret it for the rest of your miserable life. The best would be to never ask anything from them at all. Do the trial, accept your gifts with dignity and leave, never ask for more.

The third rule is, even if you are not in the presence of a god, never speak ill of them, they will know, it is inevitable. If you insult one, even by accident, you can only hope that they will be merciful and you can be sure that they will only be if they believe leaving you alone will be more entertaining than punishing you.

Following those three rules, you should be able to survive the gods, supposing you also survive their trial of course.

Which gods reside in our empire exactly is unsure but some are well known and highly believed to be inside our borders due to the amount of corresponding holders of their blessings seen over the years. The list is as follow: Death, Forest, Life, Love and Truth. Two of them, Life and Love have temples in our imperial capital and royal capitals around Steelwood. As stated in the second rule, I would be cautious of what I ask those two when praying in their temples. Some are relatively safe like praying for good harvest or the safety of your lover but more desperate prayers like saying you would do anything to find love is asking for a disaster to happen.

One would wonder what is the use of such temples if they can hear you from anywhere but the truth is as simple as one would expect. The gods love to be adored and and see in a good light the amount of efforts put into building those temples. They are known to be more receptive to those frequenting the temples than those that aren't. As for why this is the case, why they would listen to the wants of inferior creature not even worthy to be ruled over, the scholars are still in the dark.

-- Common Steelwood Bestiary entry on the Gods.

(1) I indeed mean instinctually here, not instinctively. Those are two very similar yet different things.