“So you’re the one... Hmmm?” the man asked teasingly.

Antirne had long since awakened from her slumber by the fire to find herself staring at a man she had never wanted to see again.

“You’re the one... who went against her own master,” he frowned deeply, causing the humor in his eyes to suddenly vanish without a trace.

Antirne’s eyes grew wide with fear. She knew where she was – what was wanted from her; Oh Goddess! her thoughts screamed. She looked around her like a trapped animal and backed into a corner. Her hands were bound in front of her with a filthy rag; apparently they didn’t think she was important enough for the ropes or the chains anymore.

“Did you know... that Gerald was a good friend of mine?” he asked conversationally. Antirne slowly shook her head, never once taking her eyes off of the man in front of her. Five steps and he would be on her like a cat on a mouse. She jumped as he took a step towards her, malice dripping off his very being; yet still a trace of humor played across his lips. His arms remained behind his back the entire time. She only prayed that they stayed there.

“Do you know how much trouble you have caused me?” he whispered, never taking his eyes off her own. Antirne didn’t move. “Do you?” he repeated, taking another step towards her. She hugged her legs against her chest reminding him of an infant. His smile grew warmer as he let his arms fall from behind his back slowly; letting her take in the leather whip he slowly and methodically uncoiled from itself.

“How could you do that to Gerald?” he asked gently. Antirne began shaking uncontrollably, unable to take her eyes off the whip. Tears began to slowly drip down her face and onto the cold stone floor below her. Suddenly she began to whimper; shaking her head quickly back and forth in a silent plea.

“And he... gave... you... everything......” he stated metallically; his eyes had become flattened and hard. “Everything.” Slowly his smile faded, as he raised the whip.

Half-way up the stairs Angelic stumbled as a scream pierced through the silence like a knife. Shit – she thought as she began to run faster.

Antirne crushed herself into the wall as hard as she could as the lashes rained down on her. – five – six – seven - She could feel blood pouring out of every fresh wound he was blessing on her. That’s what the trainers referred to it as – Blessings – something that had always given the other slaves a feeling of love through abuse. It had always sickened her; the warping of the slave’s mind. – twelve – thirteen - fourteen – Antirne began to scream, a loud blood chilling cry from the very foundations of her soul. Suddenly Tommason stopped – that had been his name, she thought, Tommason. He grabbed a great fistful of her hair and forced her to turn to face him. She tried to pull away but his grip was too strong.

“Why do you scream from my love for you?” he asked angrily and hurtful, as if it were she whom had been whipping him. She tried to hit him with her bound wrists; easily he moved back to dodge it. “Why do you move to strike me?” he asked in a pained voice; to her it dripped with mockery. Slowly he pulled her face to his own and kissed her slowly, but briefly. Antirne blindly kicked his leg out from under him. A gruff curse issued from his lips as his right knee met the floor with an audible crack.

Tommason glared at her for one very long pregnant moment. Antirne met his eyes and though she was still crying, she matched his glare with one of her own. He smiled coldly before picking her up by her hair and throwing her into the middle of the room. Antirne crashed into the cold flagon, her forehead slamming down hard enough to make her see stars. She didn’t even have a chance to draw a breath before the whip bit into her back causing her to shriek like never before.

Angelic burst through the door just as the man raised a whip over Antirne again. Suddenly a crack was heard through the room as Angelic threw out her arms to the doorframe for support. She dug one hand into the wood as the other groped for the leather which had wrapped itself around her throat. The man had a good stance, which did nothing in Angelic’s favor. She looked down at Antirne whom seemed almost unconscious in the way her body lay faced away from her.

“Let... her...go......” she gasped, her face reddening in the effort not to pass out. She watched the man smile triumphantly as her face darkened even further. She quickly began to see black spots dancing in her line of vision. Steading herself half-hazardly as she groped for her dagger and threw it blindly towards her assailant. She heard it strike the wall with a clang not even ten feet in front of her. Shit – she thought angrily. She grabbed the whip with both hands and pulled, trying to loosen it. She looked to the man once more feeling her legs begin to fail her just as the whip loosened from his end. Angelic looked up in shock; the trainer looked back at her questioningly. His eyes glazed over as a small stream of blood crawled from the corner of him mouth and down his chin. Suddenly his body jerked and he fell to the ground like a puppet cut from its strings. Angelic looked at it for a moment before glancing up at Antirne.

Antirne looked back at her steadily, the tears no longer falling. Massive welts and gashes all along her right side and undoubtedly, thought Angelic, across her back. Blood covered her right arm and soaked her shirt - which hung in partial tatters now. Angelic gulped in more air as she took in everything else about the elf. Her eyes were fierce yet completely sorrowful as she stared now at the body. In her hand she held Angelic’s dagger which was covered in blood all the way up to the hilt. |

Antirne looked to the half-elf and slowly walked to her, her eyes never leaving Angelic’s. She stopped in front of her and carefully embraced her – “I’m sorry...” she whispered to the half-elf and walked past her to the stairs. Angelic watched her with a concerned look – studying the elf’s scarlet back before picking up her sword and followed Antirne to freedom.