5 This Slave's Name...

We are coming to another small clearing, though it closely resembles a small triangular gap in-between the giant tree roots. There's an oza with of food, clothes, and weapons. It's a glossy wooden wagon powered by asura. A common form of transportation often used by merchants and travelers because they're cheap and easy to make. The front sitting area can fit two and has a wooden barrier sitting chest high with a steering wheel. It looks to be an old model. Moved by burning asura instead of a spell, causing it to smell like a bonfire when running. The wheels, also wood, are reminiscent of tank wheels. However, I know that this is only for appearances. Often used by the Elites during missions. This appears to be a cheep merchants' wagon, but in actuality, it's the latest model with the ability to fly and resistant to spells.

Other than that, there are three other people — two women standing behind a man. As we jumped down into the clearing, they came over to greet us. When they see me, shock runs across their faces. But I focus on how I'm going to get off Kala without breaking something. She is kneeling, but the distance to the ground is still way too far. Andri lifted me onto Kala earlier, so I didn't notice. I silently curse these giant people able to get on and off pleos with ease. I refuse help getting down, my pride unwilling to bend too far. Carefully maneuvering, I successfully slide down the side of this mammoth creature, a small victory. Considering as soon as I land, Kala thought it would be fun to bop into my backside. I would've gotten a mouth full of dirt if Andri didn't catch me. Kala made a wheezing gasping noise, laughing at me. Lark and Irvin have joined the group, and all of their faces are carefully blank, which somehow makes it worse.

/Oh, how my revenge shall be sweet./

Irvin formally bows. Right fist over the heart, left arm folding behind his back and leaning his huge frame forward. "Allowing for a formal introduction. This soldier goes by Irvin Alexander. Commanding Elite of Unit Thirteen. King Tobias of Miota, has charged us with Princess' safe return home."

Nadia rarely had contact with anyone who wasn't a servant or slave she ended up killing. So, she wouldn't know most of the people here while I do. Though shouldn't he have introduced himself sooner? Furthermore, I probably should've asked before leaving with them. I can't help but think my flawless acting has a few holes.

Lark steps forward, and bows, "Princess, this soldier's name is Lark. Weapons Elite of Unit Thirteen."

/Wow. Is resident playboy behaving himself?/

As soon as I thought it, Lark lifts his head and gives a lavish wink. I snort rolling my eyes.

/Should have known better./

This causes his eyes to sparkle in challenge and Irvin to glare in censure. Lark hangdog expression makes me grin in amusement.

I turn to Andri, "I'm Andri Hugh Singard. Medic Elite of Unit Thirteen," he spun on his heel and left to deal with the captives. I would take offense, but that's how he is with everyone. He says what he means, nothing more or less and it's better he doesn't talk more than necessary. He has the social grace of a drunken cat. Irvin doesn't stop him, he knows better too.

Choosing to instead wave over a paunchy older man who takes a step forward. Graying brown hair reaching his shoulders. Muddy brown eyes are reflecting a man who has gone through more than one should. Making him appear jaded. Wrinkles are showing on pale skin. He manages the castle servants, and most call him Chief. He's a Chaos Mage, but his ability is so low it's practically nonexistent. With the aid of goras, the most he can produce is a matchstick-sized flame, unlike most mages who come from nobility due to the strict control over bloodlines. Scias' is one of the rare anomalies that crop up throughout the mageless population.

He bows low, keeping his eyes cast downward, and says, "This servant is Scias and will be ensuring needs are met."

"Great, can you get me some clothes?"

If I weren't looking right at him, I wouldn't have noticed the way his eyes widened in surprise.

He recovers quickly, "certainly Princess."

He turns, snapping his fingers. Beckoning to the two women standing several steps behind him. When they came, the first thing that became apparent is the large silver bands around their throats and wrists, slave collars. Anger at the injustice and sorrow at the inhumanity threatens to swell, and I quickly discard them.

/Don't think. Don't feel. It's not real./

The two women were in their early twenties. One is painfully pale with straight hair cut into a bob as white as her skin; her eyelashes are also pale. Her colorless iris is barely discernible from the whites of her eyes. Slightly pink lips are the closest thing to color she contains. She vaguely feels familiar, and her face is carefully blank. The other is younger and scrawnier with a shaved head, caramel skin, and deep sea green eyes. She keeps her eyes downcast never daring to look up. Long since beaten by circumstance. I secretly name them Yin and Yang.

He begins giving orders, never introducing them. Dubbing them unimportant and names not worth mentioning. Annoyed, I cut Scias off, "what are your names?" I ask.

Everyone gapes at me, and I stand there trying to decide if I should be insulted by how often they get surprised.

Scias bows, forcing them to follow suit, "Princess Nadia, as the firstborn to the King. The highest of all royalty, there's no need to bother with the names of a couple of low born slaves. These slaves don't compare to the dirt at the bottom of Princess' shoes. This lowly servant will be unable to rest easy knowing such unworthy names have entered the Princess' ears. Please don't concern with them."

I stare at him for a beat, partially amazed he could say all that with a straight face. I sigh knowing if I make it all the way to the castle, it's going to be much worse there.

"Then I guess you're gonna have sleepless nights," I look at the two, "names?" Scias stiffens, but I ignore him.

The younger woman I dubbed Yang bows deeper than necessary and stammered, "T-this lowly slave go-goes by L-Lina." She has a faint tremor in her hands. I pretend not to see.

The other woman bows and says, "This slave is named Ryo." Her pale blank eyes reflect nothing.

Satisfied, I gesture for Scias to finish. He hesitates, confused but unable to question it.

"You," he points to Ryo, "set up Princess Nadia's temporary quarters." He turns to me bowing once more, "This servant will locate suitable clothing."

"Lead the way," I say. Silently, while keeping her head down Ryo begins walking over to the oza.
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