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Chapter 9: New Masters

The tiles had to be perfect. There couldn’t be any blemish. No smudge from the oils on his skin. No hair or specks of dirt. Perfection. If there wasn’t perfection, Anthony knew that he’d pay for it. His entire body aches for his lack of perfection in his duties and he shuddered at the thought of being up under the ‘care’ of Madam Havnia.

Havnia was a skinny and older snake with rib lines down her entire body, all twenty feet of it. She had arms with long green nails and her scales were black silver and dark green. Her yellow eyes never blinked and her forked tongue was always tasting the air for fear and she savored the air because it was ripe with it.

While most of the slaves here in Ash-Tu-Mac, the name of Baron Sheeza’s manor, bore the scars of years of servitude, Anthony was without a single mark. Humans were too rare and too valuable, like an exotic vase. However, Havnia had other methods that were just as terrible to keep Anthony in line. He had learned that the hard way his first few days when he had tried to escape. Now... now he worked hard because the reward for good behavior was simple not being punished and that was reward enough for Anthony.

The floors were cleaned everyday and yet it remained tarnished every day because there were parties every day. Every single day. Hundreds of the people of all shapes and sizes came to the manor every night where they ate and drank enormous amounts of food, all the while Anthony was paraded around the grand ball room. Naked.

Being naked wasn’t to embarrass Anthony. Humans were just that valuable and rare. Clothing would not be used to cover up what Baron Sheeza had paid for.

Anthony remembered his auction. It was the event of the year for the city. Everyone that could get past the guards and into the auctioning square came to watch. It had been a long and tense wait. He had been put into a cage, gagged and tied up with a heavy sheet covering his cage, then they sold the other slaves. He had been in there for hours when he heard Janice. She was still fighting and the crowd loved it. A gladiatorial sponsor bought her. Anthony didn’t understand their money system, but he was assured that it was a decent amount, her auction went for at least half an hour.

Anthony’s auction lasted two days.

Crazed beings fought over the right to own a human, something that almost never happened. Humans often killed themselves rather than be caught since it was known that they were protecting some great secret that hid within the Kingdom of Sacra. Many had tried to torture the secret out of the few humans that had been captured, but non succeeded in getting anything but a sly grin before the human died. Anthony was sure that a few people died at his auction because there was a lot of noise. He couldn’t see, he was blind folded, but he could hear it.

Now it had been a year and two escape attempts later. Anthony was broken now. He had no intention of escaping. No hope of freedom. He was a slave. With Jason dead, there was no purpose. So, Anthony continued to clean the floors for another four hours without so much as a sigh.

“Very good, Taleq,” Havnia said, calling Anthony by his newly given name. He had been beaten with a torture spell for using his own name before.

Anthony stood silently off to the side. His hands and knees were raw and hurt, but he made no noise about it.

Havnia slithered over the tile, he whole body making a slick and very organic noise as it moved across the freshly waxed floors. He kept low, gazing across the floor for any and all imperfections.

Anthony’s eyes kept straight forward, but he watched through his peripherals. He was terrified. Havnia was a conjurer of pain. She knew how to make any being scream and beg for death without even touching them or leaving a mark. He knew all to well. His first escape attempt had left him on the verge of suicide for days. Just the mere thought of what he went through sent a shiver down his spine.

The thought of Havnia finding something was swarming through Anthony’s Head. The old snake had keen, pitch black eyes that rarely missed anything in the manor she was in charge of maintaining. She had once found a single crumb of bread, a single crumb, on a table cloth after it had been hung up to dry after the wash. The slave in charge of cleaning the cloth, a small red panda that Anthony had not known, had been drawn and quartered. His torso had been hung in the slave quarters for two weeks.

“Very good indeed,” the snake reared up and clapped her hands together. “You humans are truly marvelous in your capacity to learn and adapt. Oh, Baron Sheeva will be most pleased,” she said , but did not smile. She never smiled.

“Thank you, my lady,” Anthony said in a hushed tone, his head bowed.

He kept his gaze away. Looking her directly in the eyes was a challenge, one she took seriously. The last slave to look her in the eyes was eaten. He saw it when it happened. The screams still haunt him. He had seen more these past year than he would have his entire life on Earth.

Havnia waved the compliment away with a flick of the wrist. “The guests tonight will be much the same as last night. You are not new to them. Go to your quarters and do get a special serving from Head Chef on your way.”

Anthony bowed his head again and turned to leave. He was dismissed and entirely relieved as well. It was rare to be let go from work so early. The sun was still out. To get food as well directly from Head Chef was also a big honor. He did very well this night. He just needed to continue it for as long as he could.

Head Chef was not a cruel man. He was actually a very likable being, a mule with a pot belly that showed under his apron. He liked to talk and joke and because the masters never came down to the filth of the kitchens, he could talk and joke as much as he like. However, he was by the book. If one did not earn his meal, he did not give it no matter how starved the slave was. A few had died under his gaze. That was not Anthony though. Being a human had its perks. He was too valuable to let die. He was always fed a rich diet to keep his frame filled.

The kitchens was a very busy place. There was always another dinner party to prepare for, a brunch with important delegates of other families, always something that needed lots of good food.

The hustle and bustle was crazy, plates moving, stack a foot high on platters carried on the end of finger tips. Knives always chopping and hot pots bubbling with green ooze that was appealing to something from somewhere.

In the center of it all and directing it all was Head Chef. The mule with silvery fur and hooded fingers was directing it like an orchestra. Nothing happened in his kitchen without his knowing, including when Anthony walked it.

“Ahhh, the human returns,” Head Chef said with his arms outstretched. A small convoy of mice carrying deviled eggs scattered around his hooves. The kitchen flowed around him without being disturbed. “Madam Havnia said you’d be here. You must have really impressed her this time.”

“I sure hope so,” Anthony said and let out a breath that he had been holding since leaving the snake’s presence. “We all know what happened when she’s less than impressed.”

“That we do, Taleq” Head Chef said and motioned go a small table and barrels that acted as chairs. “Your food will be ready in a bit. For now, sit. Let’s talk. It has been some time since you have been here.”

Anthony sat down, nearly falling. He hadn’t realized that he was that tired. Work had started before sunrise as it always had. It took the entire day to clean the manor anyways.

The manor had a lot of slaves. There were currently one hundred cleaners, seventy-one cooks, forty servers, eighteen for pleasure, five translators, two accountants and of course, one human. They all had their jobs, some got moved around or given additional special tasks, but all in all, they had their respective places. The entire place was very tightly organized and straying from the plan was death worthy. Too easy to die here.

“So,” Head Chef said, though his name was Manuela. “Tomorrow is gonna be a slow day.” Head Chef was savvy on all the little details of the house. All the servers were loyal to him.

“That means workout routine,” Anthony sighed.

Head Chef nodded. “With Kieff, as usual.”

“I’m not gonna be able to stand for a week.” He could still recall the cramps from the intense workout that kept Anthony in shape. It wasn’t always the same workout, but it was relentless nonetheless. Baron Sheeva wanted his human to look good for his guests.

“That’ll be fine because I hear that you’re being moved,” Head Chef said and looked over to one of his cooks the moment the canine with scruffy brown fur finished cooking Anthony’s meal. He handed it off to a server who then brought it to Anthony with a mug of water and sweet milk.

Anthony didn’t say anything. Instead he looked down at his meal. It was a thick beefy soup. Nothing strange or barely edible and he could smell the herbs and spices. He spooned a mouthful. It was hot and a bit spicy, but very flavorful.

“The Templars are on the move in this direction and Sheeva doesn’t want you here if they reach the city,” Head Chef spoke with a grave voice. It was actually bad news and Anthony already knew why.

Vimora, where Anthony was now, was full of the rich. The rich needed slaves and therefore, Vimora was a city where slaves served. Baron Sheeva owner a home in Vimora and Molamse, which was a gladiatorial city. Molamse was a city where slaves died.

“When,” Anthony asked.

“Can’t be more than a month. The Templars and their Angel masters have a long ways to go.”

“Why would they even come here?” It was irregular. The Autumn Woods, although loyal to the demons when it came time to pick sides, were not valuable. There were few natural resources, hence the slave and raiding culture. There was no real reason to wage war in the Autumn Woods.

Head Chef shrugged. It was a very rare gesture. “There are many speculations. The most reasonable one being that they’re here to finally end slavery. Another less, but very interesting rumor is that they’re coming for you.” He put a hoofed finger on Anthony’s chest.

Anthony put his spoon back into his bowl. He wanted to keep eating. He hadn’t had food this good in a very long time. “I’m no one.”

“You’re human.” Head Chef became annoyed, but only for a moment. “Humans have always protected humans and the Kingdom of Sacra is ruled by a fallen angel. Angels are all kin, no matter how much strife may be in their humans.”

“I’m not from Sacra,” Anthony said for what he felt was a hundred times.

Head Chef ignored him. No one believed him though. All humans were from Sacra as far as they were concerned. “They’re coming regardless and Sheeva wants you well out of their reach.”

Anthony finished his soup shortly after. Head Chef had plenty of other duties to attend to and so, Anthony went back to his quarters. They weren’t much, very spartan except for one thing. His phone.

It was miracle that he still had it. Slaves weren’t supposed to be have possessions, but somehow, the piece of plastic and wires that had run out of power a long time ago, had gone unmolested. There was the small hope that he’d figure out a way to get a charge and look at his photos. He could barely remember what Jason looked like any more.

For the first month, Anthony had cried himself to sleep. It was what any sane man would do in his circumstance. He cried because of the pain. He cried because of the loss. He cried because of how mad he was. These thing... creatures had taken everything he loved. He may be too broken on the inside to act on his hate, but he could still harbor it. Small whispers were always there, trying to goad him, but the torture kept him in check. This night was a bit different.

Exhausted, Anthony fell asleep immediately and found himself in a white room. In front of him was a cloaked being with black swirls at his feet. It’s eyes glowed a faint green and his teeth were crooked, sharp and too many too count.

“Long have I watched,” the being spoke with a wretched voice that sounded as if he had been smoking for years. “Long have I shared your agony.”

The white room shifted slightly, dark clouds formed and images of all the horrendous tortures Anthony went through showed and faded away.

Anthony crumpled to his knees and held his hands to his head. “Go away. Go away,” he chanted over and over until the images did go away. What nightmare was this. He couldn’t even escape in his sleep.

The cloaked figures stepped closer to Anthony and knelt down. It wasn’t human. Red skin and horns. More like a saytr from Warcraft. “I can give you your home back.”

The whiteness turned into a forrest. It was the woods back home. There was no double moon, but just the singular and familiar moon of home. There was his house, his car, just as he left it.

“What about Jason?” Anthony asked and looked up at those green goat eyes. “Can you give me him back?”

The eyes seemed to fill with genuine sorrow. “The dead remain.” Then then the eyes lit up. “But I can give you the revenge you seek so desperately.”

Anthony stared for a long second. Every part of his being screamed at him to ignore it. It was a trap. Nothing ever went well through a deal with the devil, but he did want revenge. Make all those that had wronged him pay and as far as he was concerned every single thing about this world had a part to play.

The being held out his hand and Anthony took it. The skin was cold and sticky. It should have been repulsive, but it felt welcoming to him.

“What do I call you?” Anthony asked.

“Call me Malus.”