Bella Reyna

Whenever I need to escape, I just close my eyes and think about Elajim. I first used to just close my eyes in order to escape my surroundings, but at some point I found that behind my closed eyelids, it’s calm and dark and a perfect canvas to paint my brother’s image in my mind. It’s easy, too; we weren’t separated until well after my parents died, about eight years after they had. Elajim was already 16, two years younger than my age now, when the Guardians came along and started poking around the family property. Having come from a long line of excellent animal tamers, it came as no surprise when we eventually were raided, but I was not prepared for who they came for: me. I always had thought of my brother as the more experienced and therefore more valuable asset to the government, but that’s not how the Queen viewed it, apparently. We knew better than to resist, but we did evade my capture for years by building new hiding spots over the years and keeping me relatively close to the ranch since we caught wind of my importance. Eventually the Queen got tired of the cat-and-mouse games she realised we were playing and sent Guardians to catch us off-guard, where we wouldn’t have an excuse as to why I couldn’t go to the palace immediately.

And, eventually, it happened. When I was eight years old I was outside and the Guardians walked right up to me. I couldn’t say a word in protest, and neither could my brother, so the warriors gave him a chance to say goodbye before I left. With a few tears I was pulled from his arms and carried limply over to the horses the Guardians came on and was taken to the Royal Palace.

“Hey, Elalois! Ela. ELA!” I feel a hand jostle me and I open my eyes lazily, squinting in the bright sunlight up at the person bothering me.

“Yes?” I croak. They sigh and crouch down to become eye-level with me. I notice their blond hair and immediately recognize them as my commander. Before I can say anything (i.e. an apology), they beat me to it.

“Damn, that punishment did a number on you, huh?” He takes my chin in between his thumb and forefinger and uses them to move my head from side to side. Once he’s done and lets my face go, I nod.

“Uh, yes, Sir,” I admit. “I apologise. It won’t happen again.”

“Aw, kid, I believe it. Why’d she punish you so harshly for such a small infraction?” He asks, looking confusedly at my scar-marked arms and legs. I had to leave them exposed due to the pain of cloth touching my still-sensitive skin. “I mean, this is only your second time—”

“The Queen saw it as a possible sign of insurrection,” I tell him robotically, then cough. I lean my head back on the wall, actually partially enjoying the warmth the early spring’s sunlight is casting on me at the moment. “At least, that’s what the soldiers told me.”

My commander just shakes his head as if he doesn’t understand it. I do. I’m the most valuable person in my field of expertise, even more so than my fellow slaves and even more than the paid servants at the castle, solely because of my skill and magic. At this point, I shouldn’t be making stupid “mistakes” like the one I made yesterday—except it wasn’t a mistake, but I can’t tell anyone that or I’ll really be in trouble. The Queen already saw it exactly as for what it was and I don’t want to raise any more alarm bells or confirm her thoughts any more than I already have. I sigh and raise my hands in a surrendering pose, feigning not feeling sharp needles of pain stab throughout my body as I execute the motion.

“Well, I deserved it. I did make a mistake, and I won’t make it again.” I shrug my shoulders at the sullen man in front of me and put a hand on the wall behind me to make standing up a bit easier, dropping the other one to my knee to help support my weight. Before I can rise too much off the ground, though, I pause when my commander puts his hand on my shoulder, this time warm and gentle like the sunshine cast upon us.

“Elalois, you’re not going to just brush your superior’s orders off like that, are you?” He asks. I sit back down hesitantly and despite myself sweat a little bit at the prospect of being in trouble again so soon. I’ve worked so hard to lay low throughout the years and making multiple infractions in a row is not a good look for that reputation I’ve worked so hard to build. I gulp.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

He laughs at my troubled expression and narrowly stops himself from slugging me in the shoulder. “Hey, didn’t mean to scare ya, kid. It’s weird seeing that expression on your face, stop it. You’re not in trouble. I guess you really didn’t hear me earlier.”

I shake my head, telling myself I need to pick better times to escape. The pain was just so much… “I apologise again, Sir.”

“It’s alright, really. Just be more present whenever you’re laying around, even if you are healing,” he adds, eyeing my wounds again. I nod and he continues. “But you need to wash out your wounds before you head to work today, the Queen will punish me if those become infected.”

My commander stands up with a grunt, betraying his age for a split second before he clears his throat. I watch as he pats my head once then leaves his hand there, sighing like he doesn’t want to leave me to my own devices. I don’t move.

“Just…be quick, ok? I can’t cover you for long.”

And with that, he’s gone. It takes a few seconds for me to get moving, but once I do, I don’t stop. Once I’m standing I go back inside and head to the bathrooms in the male barrack and use the water from the sink to wash the burns. I might not like her punishments, but I have to hand it to her, they’re creative. Her soldiers sure did enjoy putting out their cigarettes on me, even asking me to open my mouth so they could burn my tongue as well. Guess they aren’t as stupid as I thought they were, at least when it comes to punishments. Or maybe it’s just a me thing, since everyone else at the Palace seems to have this same vendetta against me, too.

I won’t underestimate them again, I think as I gently swish water around my mouth to get rid of the ashy taste and soothe the pulsing, but subsiding pain. It’s down to a humming rather than a throbbing after pouring cold water over my arms and legs and drinking some, but it definitely doesn’t disappear. I decide this is fine, it’s enough, and head over to the animal stables. I can’t hide forever, as humiliating as it is to let everyone see me covered in the Queen’s marks. Sure, she didn’t leave them there personally, but each scar I have on my body is from her, for her, and is an example of the control she holds over me, even though everyone knows she “favours” me.

But even favourites get punished, I think bitterly as I eye the sight in front of me, assessing what’s going on and what I’ve missed while I was cleaning myself up—if you could call it that. Each burn feels like a small fire still but I push the bile rising in my throat down and will it away as I focus on surveying the inside of the barn my life has centred around since the day I arrived. It’s not what I expect, that’s for sure.

Commander has everyone lined up from tallest to smallest and I quietly slip into the third to last in line, in between two other slaves, although they’re female. I curl my fingers into my palm to calm the rage that always washes over me, fresh as ever, whenever I remember the Queen’s reaction to my height. It hurts to be called a runt to your face, to be fussed over because suddenly your value falls over something you can’t control. And that was before they found out I’m not even a girl. I adjust the bandages squeezing my torso and they don’t budge, making me breath a little easier. At least, metaphorically. These things don’t allow much room for that.

“Hmm…” Commander’s eyes scans over the entire line and he nods at me imperceptibly as his gaze passes over me. I do the same with a small movement of my head and shift my weight to the other leg. The bad thing about burns on muscles is that whenever you use said muscle, the wound (or wounds, in my unfortunate case) screams in pain from the activation. I blow out a puff of air and will myself to stay present, not to let the pain take me away, this must be important.

“Kit, Salar, Ciel, Caster, Zeiphir, and Elalois, step forward,” he commands. I obey and take a step forward, now standing with the five other called-out individuals and clasping my hands behind my back. I only wince a little. I wonder what I’m picked for now? And right after he saw the state I’m in? There’s no doubt in my mind Commander went looking for me to scope out what kind of shape my body’s in and gauge what tasks I can handle these upcoming few weeks while I recover. Commander might be good at following instructions, but he’s also good at dodging around them when he needs to, and can’t he see I’m not in too good a shape to do much? I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. Why can’t I just do my normal tasks today?

I hear an almost silent scoff from behind me and stop myself from turning around. “They always get picked.”

I hear the other huff. I tense, clenching my hands again. “Yeah, must be nice being the favourite. Imagine the opportunities.”

“Look at those burn marks, what do you think he did?” I hear the one to my left whisper. There’s a silence and I can imagine the slave to my right shrugging. This isn’t a normal punishment so I can imagine their confusion. They should consider themselves lucky not to be a “favourite” of the Queen.

“Probably got a bigger head than they could carry,” the one to my left sniggered. Another silence and I’m half grateful to the slave on my right before I open my eyes and find our Commander standing several feet in front of me, whispering to someone standing next to him. The person standing next to him nods and scurries behind us. I don’t dare look but I hear the sounds of the slave to my left being taken out of the line and being hushed as they’re taken out of the barn.

“Congratulations! You all are old enough to graduate and skilled enough to move onto being Master Trainers. Stand in a group to my right.” Commander booms out, making me jump slightly before relaxing and shooting him a grateful look for taking away that mouthy trainee. I did not need that today.

We all shuffle over and huddle together, making sure not to actually touch each other but close enough to not be considered disobeying direct orders. Commander doesn't even look back at us to make sure we’re following instructions, he picked us out of the crowd also partly because we’ve been proven to listen to commands unfailingly. I touch my arm and wince. Sometimes.

“Svenly, Dakir, Haugh, Windix, Wendel, and Saphire, take a step forward. You have been chosen to graduate as well, but you will be sold to other aristocrats and royal families and whoever is willing to pay the price for your skills. Congratulations to you lot! Make a group to my left.”

The called-out group, including the slave that was to my right, steps out of line, some sullen-looking and some trying desperately not to smile, all shuffling over and making a similar-looking clump of bodies diagonally behind Commander.

“As for everyone else, you will continue your training and continue staying here for as long as you need to until you all graduate. Thank you. Everyone who is still in the line, move about with your normal daily chores. Shoo, now!”

Everyone scrambles at the commander’s last words and they disperse around the large barn, some leaving to go fetch water or food stored in a different barn. As everyone scuttles around, Commander turns towards us and smiles widely, clasping his hands together happily. Most of us do not share his sentiment, me included.

“When I say congratulations to you all, I do mean congratulations. I have watched each and every one of you work hard to get where you are, and I want to say thank you personally for all the dedication and commitment over the many years I have known you all. Those of you who are being sold, the auction is tonight. Gather your things in your sack and wash up, then report to Aristelle for proper grooming.” Everyone in the left group nods and leaves, heading towards the slave barrack. I watch as one slave covers their mouth to prevent their sobs from being heard, although their body shakes every few seconds. I recognise her as one of the few slaves here in a relationship, finding that I feel jealousy at best, and nothing at worst. They should consider themselves lucky to be leaving, this kingdom is far from the best in my opinion. Although, it is possible they would be going to a worse kingdom, so I could understand the emotion in that sense. Either way, once everyone files out the barn door, I direct my gaze back to my commander. I jump when I find him already looking at me.

“Elalois, you and everyone else already know that you will be working directly for the queen. Likski is here to introduce you to the trade, he is currently the lead trainer working for the queen, and he is a servant, not a slave, so treat him accordingly.”

I nod, showing my understanding. “Yes, Commander. Thank you for everything.” I bow when I say the last line, showing him my respect in my aloof manner I’ve grown accustomed to slipping over my personality during the years I’ve stayed here.

The fatherly man puts a hand on my shoulder as I stay bowed, awaiting his response before I move away to my bunker for the last time. “Likewise. I enjoyed having you as a student. You were a delight to teach. I hope to see you around the castle.”

His hand moves from my sore shoulder and I stand straight again, keeping my face straight as always as I nod around the circle. Not waiting for everyone to nod back, knowing not everyone will nod back, that is when I make a beeline for the exit. Deep breaths and scolding myself to go slower, yelling at myself I’m being too obvious, and mentally bashing myself in with a rock isn’t working because all I can feel coursing through me was rage. Rage, rage, rage. Once I’m out of the barn I stop holding my emotions down by the stakes I’ve hammered into my mind carefully over the past eight years of my life and I run. To nowhere, to everywhere, to I don’t care—just somewhere away from what my life has become.

It’s only after my mind clears a bit that I realize I’m in the garden. I’m allowed to be here, so that’s not what troubles me, it’s that now even when I’ve slowed down and am catching my breath, I can’t get her out of my mind. Everything, goddamn everything reminds me of her. Her. Her, her, her. The woman who controls my life, my actions, my personality. As her name floats into my mind I feel the indescribable rage pump back into me, leaving no room for the usual fear. I don’t even feel my burn marks anymore, probably due to the adrenalin, but no matter, I know what I have to do, and what I know I can do; my eyes sidle over to where the animals are kept and I imagine a spark dancing in my pupils. Tonight it is.

I can’t keep waiting for my brother to come rescue me through whatever legal or magical means he can get through the Queen—I need to go to him and take matters into my own hands.