• PM To Join • The Art of Being A Slave Is To Rule One's Master

[Faith Augustin]

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40th Saun, 716

Why she was doing this, she did not rightly know. She hadn't spoken to Master about it, not at all. When she woke that morning, she had not intended to do it. But somehow, in the ten trials since she had dreamed of Malcolm dying, she knew that she would end up doing this. Had he died? She did not know, but she did know that this was building up in her like a pressure. When heavy-lidded eyes had lifted this morning, Master had still been asleep and she lay in his arms and looked at him, studying him. In the season that she had been his slave she had experienced more of life than she thought possible before he bought her. He had given her more freedoms than she had ever had before and he had treated her like a person, and a person he cared for, a person he cared about . Was that what she had become? She wasn't sure but as she moved slightly and his arms tightened around her, Faith laid her head back down on his chest and rested her head, listening to his heart beating slowly. As she did that, she felt his arms tighten and move in a way which suggested that perhaps he was no longer entirely asleep and she smiled as she felt an emotion wash over her.

Contentment

That was it, she had realised, later, as she cooked their breakfast; she was content. As she put the poached eggs on to Master's plate and realised that putting some vinegar in the water did help them to hold a more round and even shape, the girl reached for the warm bread which she had lightly toasted with a smile as the realisation of contentment hit her. It was a strange feeling for the young slave and it was mixed up in a variety of others. She was confused by her feelings for Malcolm, her experiences with Lady Elyna were completely a whirlwind to her and she had a gnawing sense of guilt that if only she had done more, or quicker or better somehow, then the war might not have happened or, at the very least, maybe less people would have died or been injured. Maybe if she had recognised the King sooner, or if she had killed Velijorn and then stood and surrendered or something.

Or anything, really, she considered. She had been there, right in that tent and she had run. She would never know if she'd have been able to make a difference but by Famula, Faith wondered it a lot. The earnest young slave never really considered just how much of a difference she had made, what she had done she had done because Master had given her clear instruction, but what she had failed to do was her own. There was a definite contradiction there, but whilst she was aware of it, she could not do anything to shift it. It floated around her head and bounced like bubbles popping in her thoughts and so she considered what she could do to try and start thinking properly.

She kept coming back to one thing. To one place. To one person in fact. Jamal. Master and Paladin and all the people that she had met, they knew of Jamal and many of them had very negative opinions of him but Faith understood him and she believed that he understood her, more than almost anyone. When he had owned her he had constantly questioned her, demanding that she considered her answers, looked deep into her own ideas and then probed further and further. It was part of his job, he had told her once, to make sure that her training was complete and that she was truly a slave in the very core of her being.

There it was.

It was that, that moment which terrified her. Because when she thought of that, when she considered what it was to be a slave to her core, Faith recognised that she had doubts. Jamal had told her she might, but he had told her that they would pass ~ at first she had experienced none at all but then there was the war. From the moment that she had woken Master from his bed to the time that she and Lady Elyna had returned home and Master had told her that she had been braver than a free woman would be, Faith had felt doubts starting to chew at her. They scared her, in truth and as she had lain in Master's arms that morning, long after he had awoken and with the sheets tangled around them as their breathing returned to normal and she simply felt the feeling of his arms around her, his heart beating loudly in her ear and their skin contacting, she realised that she was wondering.

Could it be more? She didn't know, in truth, and she didn't know that she wanted to find out but that she had asked the question was unusual in the extreme for her. Could she ever lay in a man's arms, not because he owned her body but because he held her heart? She knew that Master would tell her that she was free to love who she wanted but, to Faith, love was loyalty, devotion and commitment and so she was not free to love. Because she was not free. If she loved another and Master desired her, then her loyalty must be to Master.

She was not free to love. Not like Malcolm had told her to.

So, she went to seek out the man who had told her this would happen in the hope that he would tell her that it was normal, that all was how it had always been. Her footsteps took her to the streets that she knew so well and there, as she rounded the corner and caught her first glimpse of it, Faith's footsteps faltered as she saw the shop.

"What in Famula's name?" she whispered, fear stealing her voice.

[Faith Augustin]

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Hello?

Songstamp: Hello: Evanescence

Her feet took her forward, moving almost without her permission to do so and she realised that she had broken into a run. The place was closed, locked up and she looked around her as though expecting something or someone to pop up and somehow make sense of what she was seeing. Jamal never closed up the shop, never, and certainly not at a time when there were so many dead. In the rare moments that the shop had been shut, he had put a sign on the door. This wasn't that and it looked like it had been more than a few trials since the shop had closed. Faith had never known Jamal to leave the shop like this and, whilst she had only known him a little over an arc, she felt that she knew him well enough to know that it was out of character for him. She knew for a fact that, even whilst he travelled to Athart to collect her, the shop had remained open.

So, having peered in the windows, Faith made her way around the back. The place was undisturbed and it seemed like there was nothing out of the ordinary, on first glance, just like it was locked up. She didn't buy it though there were things out in shop that wouldn't be there if Jamal had locked up and it just didn't make sense. So, she knelt at the back step and worked loose the stone in the corner, which she removed and from there retrieved the spare key. Unlocking the back door, she stepped in and looked around with a look of concern on her face.

"Hello?" she called "Is there anyone here?"

But of course, there wasn't. But there was a smell here, one that Faith recognised as the smell of death - oh so familiar to this place. There was the smell of death but there was more than that, things unfamiliar. Dust and dead flowers, rotten food and other complete unknowns. Not right, she considered, not right at all. Jamal was a man who was particular, careful and more than that he was predictable in his routines. This just wasn't like him. No Jamal, no Mildred - where were they?

She made her way to the front of the shop and her frown deepened. Notes from the delivery of food, the regular wood supplier ~ he'd gone but not cancelled them? Faith shook her head that wasn't right. It just wasn't right. Looking around she moved over to the reception desk and lifted her hand to the rotting corpses of the flowers which had been freshly here. They were always freshly here.

"Where are you?" she whispered, worry creasing her brow. It was like, she considered, one of the legs of the table had collapsed. Or maybe the walls of the house. Jamal was not here and it was not right. "I have so many questions and I am confused. Where are you, I need to talk to you"

[Yanahalqah]

Yana had been passing by the Undertaker’s many times in the past few seasons. Her motives were simple curiosity. The slave named Faith had piqued her interest back in Ymiden, and back then she had been owned by Jamal, the Undertaker himself. On later trials she’d found herself passing by frequently, looking for a glimpse of the slave, but she’d never entered the shop. She’d seen the slave a couple times, often by accident, as the raven-haired girl went out to complete one task or another. Then, one day, she hadn’t been there anymore. No sign of Faith. She’d found out later that she’d been bought by a Venora, and Yana had stopped walking past the shop. After all, there hadn’t been anything of interest there anymore.

However, sometime during Saun, the Yludih had noticed the shop had closed without warning. There were no signs of life to be detected within. Dust had gathered on the doorstep, and nothing that indicated the door had been opened in trials. Yana had found it suspicious. It woke her curiosity once more, and she wondered if Faith knew about it. Thus, she once more made it part of her routine to pass by the shop, keep an eye on it for a couple bits at a time every day. She was on the lookout for signs of anyone having entered or left, but found none. Until this very trial that is.

From a distance, the Yludih watched as the slave arrived. The girl peered through the windows with a frown on her face. Her body language spoke of suspicion and disbelief, as did her face. The slave walked around the place, and Yana followed quietly, watching as the girl retrieved a key from a loose stone and opened the door. The one-eyed mercenary let the girl have her head start, then she followed, silently stepping inside as well.

In the silence of the shop, it was not hard to discern the young woman’s voice, though making out the words she was speaking was impossible still. However, once she had approached close enough, Yana could overhear with ease.

“Not here, obviously,” Yana said, her voice as flat and monotone as ever. The mercenary hadn’t changed much since Faith had last seen her –well, in this form, that is. The Yludih still wore her red shirt and brown pants. Her hair was loose and coppery in color. One eye was covered by a patch, and the expression on her face was neutral. As always, she had her sword and dagger at her hip. Yana did not cut a very imposing figure, but she did not find she needed to. Potential opponents underestimating her only increased her own chances of winning a fight, should it come to that. Her body language did not speak of any hostility at all though, as the woman had no intentions of battling anyone.

“I was wondering when you’d notice this,” she gestured to the shop, “it’s been like this for a while now. Seems like you never once missed your old place before this trial eh? Not enough to pass by anyway.” Yana did not judge though. “You’ve changed.” It was obvious, even for someone like Yana, who’d only met the girl twice. Even the second time, earlier this season, Faith had been a whole lot different already. Confident, in a way. But now she’d changed even more.

[Faith Augustin]

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Faith did not hear Yana walking in and so she was standing and looking at the vase of dead flowers, her hand touching one and watching the withered petal fall to the counter top. It was the movement that caught her eyes, the thing which mirrored her thoughts at the moment as they fluttered around in her head, Faith turned to look in surprise as she caught sight of what seemd to be an almost fluttering movement in her peripheral vision. Faith looked and frowned slightly. Was that Yana, the woman who had been here last season with a body? It was, she was sure. Now, it was perhaps a strange juxtaposition, but Faith had not thought about or considered Yana once since she had seen her last. Of course, she had seen her more recently than she knew but in truth the mercenary had come and gone and been of no more consequence to Faith than the corpse that she brought with her.

Had she known that she warranted attention, she might have been flattered. But she did not know and so the young woman looked at Yana with an expression of confusion on her face. "How did you.... oh, you followed me in?" She sounded, and was, confused. Was this woman watching the undertakers? If so, why? Maybe she had done something to Jamal and Faith felt a very genuine sense of worry that Yana, who had the ability and knowledge needed, she assumed, to kidnap or murder Jamal, might have done so. Why else would the mercenary woman came around here if there was not something suspicious? As the woman continued in her monotone voice, Faith realised that she must be watching the place. She knew that it had been like this for a while and knew that Faith hadn't passed by. The put her as top of the list of suspects as soon as she realised that, as far as Faith was concerned, the woman was admitting to stalking or staking out the place. Why would she tell her that?

But at the next bit, Faith looked at Yana with calm steel-grey eyes. At the words Seems like you never once missed your old place before this trial eh? Not enough to pass by anyway, Faith raised an eyebrow, then smiled a slight and almost pitying smile. She never missed the old place? What a load of utterly emotional drivel which illustrated one thing and one thing only. It was that which Faith spoke "It is clearly beyond your ability to comprehend. I would not bother yourself with trying" she replied with a calm voice. She was not faking calm, strangely Yana entering had centered her and she felt better. Much more clear. Something had happened here and she was going to find out about it.

Ignoring the comment that she had changed, Faith gestured around the shop. "Obviously, you have been keeping an eye on the place for one reason or another." If she noticed or cared about the phrase 'keeping an eye' in Yana's specific case, she hid it well "When did you first notice that all was not as it should be and how did it manifest?" she asked. Because she was reporting this to the guard, there was no doubting it and, with Master's permission of course, she would investigate it herself too. Top of her list would be this woman, because her actions were beyond dubious and right into frankly suspicious.

[Yanahalqah]

The slave had changed indeed. Perhaps Yana just had never noticed before this trial, but Faith seemed more confident now than before. No meek girl here, calling her 'Mistress', ready to follow any order she might give her. She seemed stronger somehow. And yet, something had shaken her, it was obvious. Something had occurred with her new master, a situation that gave birth to unprecedented doubts or feelings perhaps? Something that she needed guidance with? Something that made her come to Jamal's shop. Or maybe someone had died, that was possible too.

The slave's words were calm. A far cry from the wary and nervous impression she had made just a moment earlier. She'd regained her composure, her confidence. Yana did not raise even an eyebrow. “You're right,” she agreed with the slave, her own voice calm as well, not even insulted by her words. “I don't understand. And it might be beyond my comprehension. But that's what's makes thinking about it interesting.” She gave a smile, but it did not reach her eye.

Gesturing to encompass the Undertaker's, Faith spoke again, trying to get some answers out of the Yludih. An interrogation? She wondered how much she could play with the girl, if at all. It seemed she somehow cared about what had happened to the owners of the shop, and just like the slave had mentioned, Yana couldn't fathom why. Had she not been treated worse than a dog? Had she not been underfed, forced to sleep on the cold floor of a cold room? Forced to complete impossible tasks? According to both her memory and her notebook, she had. Yana saw no reason why Faith should feel anything positive for the Undertaker. But indeed, that was exactly what made this slave worth her time. She did not think like others. She was different.

Yana stared at the slave with indifference as Faith questioned her, the tone of voice used and the harshness of her pale eyes telling the shape-shifter that the girl did not trust her. She probably suspected her of having something to do with this. “Now, now,” the Yludih spoke with uncharacteristic incredulous voice, “you don't think I had anything to do with this, now do you?” She shook her head slightly, her expression mocking Faith –and obviously so. “Then pray tell, if I did, why would I show myself here? So you can point me to the guards?” The Yludih laughed, no emotion in the sound. Needless to say, the laughter was as fake as her previous expressions.

“Besides, what do I stand to gain from making an undertaker vanish? Nothing, I would think, unless someone paid me handsomely. But then again, why would I show myself to you here?” Perhaps to use reverse psychology, though one could say that of anything. “But let me put your mind at ease, girl, I have nothing to do with this. And that it the truth.” She paused for a moment, staring at the slave. Once more, Yana had fallen back into her usual stone-faced expression and monotone voice. Almost, that is. Something of a mocking, almost playful tone remained to lace her words.

For some reason, she could not stop. She did not know where this would lead her, nor why she did it in the first place, but she could not stop. Perhaps playing with this slave amused her. It was not because she was free and Faith was a slave, far from it. Probably because their view of the world was nothing alike. Because they were too different personality wise. Maybe because she found it enjoyable to see the slave distraught at the thought that something had happened to her previous owners. Or maybe because she believed this ultimately might lead her to discover more about the raven haired girl. Mayhap all of the above.

“Give me a good reason why I should tell you anything,” Yana continued, “what do I gain? I don't work for free, and information does not come cheap.”

[Faith Augustin]

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Faith shrugged slightly when Yana accepted that she could not comprehend yet still wished to think about it. "As you wish, it is your time to waste, of course, as you choose" she said and smiled in an entirely perfunctory manner. She wasn't really paying attention, in truth, as her mind worked overtime. But she was still who she was and she made sure that her smile was polite. She had a very uneasy feeling about the woman, in truth, because she had followed her in here, had been watching the shop and it all sounded more than a little suspicious to the slave girl. Way beyond suspicious.

She moved around the shop, checking things that she knew about. What was in that drawer? How about that cupboard? With each opening and closing, each lifting of a box or piece of paper, Faith's frown deepened.Things were not left like they would be even if he was closing the shop for a trial, much less for an extended period of time. She moved quickly around the shop, moving from one place to another and getting more convinced that something was not right as she did.

But then, when Faith questioned her, Yana answered in a way that was entirely unexpected and it made Faith stop in her tracks. She ceased her flurry of activity and she looked at Yana incredulously. For just a moment the slave stood and her gaze was locked on the one-eyed woman with a growing feeling of utter disbelief. But then, as she processed what Yana said and what she had meant and what consequences that had for Faith, the slave came to a realisation, of sorts. It was a very interesting one which, in another time Faith might stop and consider more. But right now, she realised a simple thing. The woman in front of her was lonely. She was lonely and she was alone. It was sad, really, that she had chosen to keep hanging around here, that she had followed a slave in to this deserted place and that now she still felt the need to try and exert power.

But Faith was a very different person than she had been. Because of the zombies that she had fought, certainly. But also because of man who owned her now and more than anything, she was different because she had experienced more and she had changed. Grown, perhaps. Developed, certainly.

"I understand. I am going to lock back up now and go to the guard. I am sure they will contact you" she said scooping up some papers, putting them into her bag and motioning to the back door. "I have nothing to offer you and no time to negotiate. I am sure they will have both. After you" she said and motioned for Yana to leave, so that Faith could close the door and lock it. Unless the woman talked, that was exactly what she was going to do and, if she did not, then in that moment Faith had every intention of taking more extreme action, but she hoped she did not need to. So she motioned and she fully expected the woman with the eye patch to get the hell out of Jamal's shop, where she had no place being in the first instance.

[Yanahalqah]

The slave declined the offer, and Yana gave a shrug in reply. She honestly couldn’t say she was surprised. One glance at those pale eyes had made sure it wasn’t. Faith’s new confidence made her unwilling to work with Yana, it seemed. The slave appeared to have a dislike for the Yludih, but the latter didn’t really care. The offer of information for a price was just a whim, if the slave did not want to take it, that was her problem. The only downside for Yana was that she hadn’t been able to make some coin or get something of value in return for the information.

Idly, the one-eyed Yludih let her gaze wander, falling through the dusty and dirty windows as she was ushered out of the house. Because of the unclean glass, the image was blurry, but nevertheless the silhouette of a man could be seen. He was staring in, the amber skin of his face clearly visible and identifiable against the blond of his short hair. It was not an unknown general description to Yana; she’d seen this man a couple of times this season. He followed her, it seemed, and it was annoying to say the least. However, she did not rush to confront the man, knowing full well he’d be gone the moment she arrived at the spot he’d been standing in. As always.

“I doubt the guards would be willing,” the mercenary said, boots leaving more prints in the dusty floor as she approached the door. “But that’s something for another day,” Yana informed Faith, stopping short from stepping outside, instead turning on her heels and facing the slave girl. “Now, if you would hand over the key and those documents so I could lock up and bring you to the guard, I would appreciate it.”

The Yludih did not show any expression on her face as she voiced her own command to counter Faith’s. She did allow for a pause though, so the slave could think of the implications of her words. Naturally, it was just a bluff, and thus, Yana would not give her too much time to think. “Burglary is a serious crime, one I am supposed to report to the guards, as I’m sure you are aware of.” She held out her hand expectedly, non-verbally asking for the requested items once more. “They might let it slide if you just cooperate. Else I am afraid I will have to use force.” The mercenary had barred the doorway, not planning on letting the girl out. She was taunting her, but Yana’s face displayed only utter seriousness.

“Naturally, attacking me will result in charges of assault, and will –just as fleeing—be seen as proof of your crimes.” Now, what would Faith do? Obviously, those charges would be easy to deal with for a family such as the Venoras, however, those charges were no bluff in of themselves. As a Squire, Yana had been expected to know the law –at least partially—and she was using that right now. Faith may have once lived in this very house, but right now she did not, and most importantly, she had not been invited in. Yana was quite certain of this, since the owners of the shop had not been around for at least twenty-five trials. Thus, this made Faith’s entry unlawful. The fact that she had also pocketed some papers –which wasn’t that big of a deal depending on what was written on them—showed criminal intent. Should it come to it, if questioned by the guard, Yana would naturally claim to have believed them to be important documents.

Nevertheless, those crimes were minor, and a bit of coin could easily solve the problems caused. The Venora family had enough wealth, as had the other seven noble families. However, it would mean they had to spend money on fines committed by a slave of theirs. Faith had once told her she had been born in slavery, raised and trained as one from birth. A slave with such a pedigree –one she seemed to take some pride in even!—would not be able to walk away from such a failure unscathed. It would be a major blemish, would it not?

[Faith Augustin]

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She knew it was too good to be true.

Which, of course, it was. The woman refused to leave, rather standing and barring her way. Faith looked at her and she sighed, a very genuine sigh. "Are you really willing to do that? Because if you try and harm me, I will respond, and my trials of not being allowed to do so are long since over. In fact, I am under very specific orders about such. So, if you wish to use force, or try to, then I will do as my Master has commanded and defend myself whilst screaming for the guard. Slaves in Rynmere can file charges for assault and I will. My Master will back me completely, and he will take what measures he needs to ensure that you never harm or threaten his property again" The woman simply did not understand. Faith had to find out what had happened to Jamal, it was her duty. She had to and this woman was not going to stop her. She would explain if she thought for a moment that Yana would understand, but that was truly beyond her comprehension. Had Faith known that Yana considered that Faith had a dislike of her she would have told her truthfully that she did not, but what she had was experience of her and it was not good.

"I am not fleeing. I have nothing to flee from. Nothing" the flash of emotion in her eyes was clear. Faith had changed since she came back from the rebel camp, she had changed in more ways than simply gaining confidence. It was much more fundamental than that. But equally she had not changed at her core, and she had a duty to do here. But now? Now what was different was that she had people that she could call on.

"If you wish to take this to the guard, then call for them. My Master will be called, Lord Venora of his house. I will ask that the Skyrider Aeon is present, for he and I know each other and Lady Elyna Burhan if needs be will vouch for me and the truth of what I speak, my character. I can call on others and I will, shamelessly pulling in every last favour and friendship that I am owed until you wish to the Seven that you had never set your eye on me. So if you want to do this" she said and she was unwavering in her gaze "Then do it we will. Because I have fought zombie hoardes, battled shadow creatures, held the dying from the remnants of that battle, ridden on the back of a dragon and a hundred other things that you have no idea of and I will not be bullied by a woman who thinks that she can do so because I am a slave." her voice was calm and without emotion as she spoke. Not the monotone of Yana's voice, instead the cold of a woman who had gone as far as she was going to. There was a line, and this was it.

Perhaps it was fear that drove the slave to speak so, but it really did not seem to be. It seemed that Faith was cold as she spoke, cold and calm. She stood, defiance on her face, but determination and pride too "I am a slave. But you have no control over me by law and none by my Master's wishes. I am slave to my Master and his house and I will uphold what he wants of me. I am his, not yours and you will not bully me. No one will, not again. So I give you one chance. Step out now and we forget it. Or do not. Anything other than that and I start to scream. There are guards here, we know it, they will come. So take your choice, what will it be"

She was calm and she was clear. If Yana took a step sideways or towards her, Faith would scream at the top of her lungs. She would not hesitate, would not pause. If Yana attacked her, well she would find that Faith had developed a fairly decent skill at combat. In short, anything that was not Yana leaving, and leaving now, would have Faith screaming for the guard. Because Yana was right, it was a matter of pride. Master had told her that she was a treasure, not an animal, not less than an animal. Not someone to be abused by people like this woman who took advantage of her then-owner's rules to burn Faith's eyes or command her to position from a need to exert power. Master had been clear about that and Faith would follow his command to the best of her ability. If Yana did not leave, then Faith would scream and scream and scream some more and furthermore? If Yana tried to touch her Faith determined there and then that she was going to pluck out her one remaining eye. Whilst her thoughts were not evident on her face, she seemed to quite mean everything she'd said.

[Yanahalqah]

Of course the slave did not make things easy. This one always made things more difficult than they need be. Faith countered Yana's threat of having to use force with the statement that the law did not approve of assault, even when it came to slaves. The Yludih knew about this of course, not having been planning to actually attack. She'd only force the key out of her hands, and papers out of her bag. If she was required to make the first move that is, else she had been planning to keep barring the doorway until Faith decided she'd had enough and did something Yana could claim to be assault. But the slave did not want to move along Yana's plans.

But it did not matter, for the slave gave the Yludih so much better. In the end, her goal had been realized anyway, and it seemed she had gotten the slave just one step further to the line she would not cross. The edge of her control, the beginning of spontaneous anger and outbursts. It was enough for now. But not before the mercenary whipped out her notebook and pencil and started making notes in a hurried pace. Scratches of charcoal on paper formed words at lightening speeds, adding to the information she already had on Faith.

So when the slave was done with her rant, and the Yludih with her writing, she closed the book with a motion of her hand, both journal and pencil returned to their hiding places. The one-eyed woman gave the slave an oddly satisfied smirk, opening her mouth to make some remarks of her own. Just to pull the slave back to Idalos. That sense of superiority that the other woman seemed to have around her was simply that annoying. Before Yana had not been able to pinpoint just why she had set her sights on the slave in the first place, but the adolescent woman's words had enabled the Yludih to put her finger on the itch, so to speak. Now she knew what it was, and now she had gleaned some more truths about herself as well. All in all a very productive meeting, this had turned out to be.

“Let me get this straight,” the false human began, green orb focusing on the spot between Faith's eyes to seem to be staring right through her. “Just because you now have made some friends, serve a relatively powerful master who you think cares about you, and because you have experienced some aspects of the outside world for the first time in your –let us say-- ignorant little life, you believe yourself to be superior to others?” Somewhere during those words the Yludih's eyebrow had slowly been raising itself into a quizzical position. She laughed an emotionless, hollow laugh. “Priceless.”

She shook her head slowly. This slave had a distorted self-image, feeling proud to have been given the fate that she had. The conditioning used in Athart had to be quite thorough and powerful. Still, bullying because of that? Hardly. Yana would “bully” anyone she wanted, when she wanted. Slave or no. Usually the slaves did not even interest her, just because of their subservient and meek nature. Even the rebellious ones were dull, because they were powerless in the end. Though from time to time, she did find amusement and fascination in their struggles. But Faith was the exact opposite, and that was exactly what fascinated Yana. If she had her way she'd have the creature stuffed in a box and shipped to a facility where she would not be found. There Yana would conduct all sorts of research, ranging from this kind of conversations to plain old torture. Maybe she could even have her master delivered to her there too, and see how the slave reacted to him being the one to suffer. The thought made her smile, and she licked her lips sensually -–though inadvertently so.

Yana sighed then. “Anyways, I think I will indeed take my leave here.” Hints of the smile from before still played with the corners of her mouth. “I would thank you for entertaining me, but that would be wasted on you, I think. Either way, I have what I wanted. Until next time.” With that, Yana turned around and stepped out the door, content. Her notes would need to be rewritten in a neater script, and she thought of perhaps buying a quill and ink to prevent the charcoal from smudging the pages too much. There was a lot to do --potentially, that is-- and she was glad for it. This trial had already proven quite productive, and more work would only make it even more so.

And thus the Yludih walked away, pleased with the fruits of her labor.

Off Topic

Well, this did not last as long as I thought it would... hope you don't mind ^^;
Also, Yana kind of thought about ... unexpected things.

[Faith Augustin]

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Moving along to Yana's plans was indeed fairly low on Faith's list of priorities and she made sure that she communicated that. Yana seemed amused, laughed and tried to insult her, but by that point Faith already knew that she had won. The woman had threatened her, Faith had stood up to her and by the Seven, she had won. So, if the one-eyed woman needed to write in her book and fling an insult or two around, then that was up to her. Evidently, she needed to save face, as far as Faith could tell. The slave had been reading around the subject of psychology in her frequent trips to the library and she was starting to understand things more. It was vital to her that she did because, due to her lack of social contact during the first eighteen arcs of her life, Faith was very much still learning about people. This woman controlled the words that she wrote, Faith thought. The deliberately monotone voice, the pretend detachment from the life she lived seemed to Faith to be a defense mechanism for a lonely woman. She was cruel because she was afraid to be anything else, the slave believed, and in that moment Faith felt rather sorry for her.

Yana needed not to believe that she had backed down, she needed to believe that she had chosen to leave. Anything else, Faith thought, would cause too much damage to her obviously fragile ego. What she had read caused her to believe so and so, as Yana forced out a laugh, as she tried to sound superior all the time that she was backing down, the slave simply watched her with calm grey eyes. If she needed to speak, then Yana spoke, but Faith was clear in her mind. Defense mechanisms notwithstanding, the one-eyed woman knew that fundamentally Faith had won this one. So she left with what shreds of her dignity she had managed to gather about her and Faith left her to do so. Once she had gone, Faith locked the back door and cursed herself for not having done so previously. Then, she continued with her checking, gathered all the information that she could and determined that she was going to go home and tell Master what had happened, then report to the guard. And she would report that woman had been watching too, and had followed her in. Considering that, Faith went and opened up the records of when she had met Yana first, although Faith knew her as Rayna. She found the records, including the letter naming her as Rayna Ramsey and she took note of it, also the name of the family that had hired her in the first place.

Just in case, she considered. She made sure that she had all the information that she needed and then she locked up, leaving through the front and taking the spare key with her. Thinking about it, she made her way immediately to the guard house where she reported everything with the kind of meticulous detail that those who knew her would expect.

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Fun thread! Enjoyed it as always! I'll stick this up for review