The Forsaken Hero

"Come along, Filthblood."

I followed Father Ithris as we headed to the training grounds. He was the same Father who I was first healed by in the warehouse, but the past month hadn't softened his attitude at all. In the day or so he'd been following me around, life had been nothing but miserable. He complained constantly, shortened the time I spent at various activities, and kept my contact with Soltair at a minimum.

Following yesterday's judgment, I was assigned a location in the lower levels of the Divine Throne, in the slave quarters. Unlike the warehouse, the slaves here were generally treated fairly and were kept in rooms instead of cages. There was a set curfew when all the rooms would magically lock, but we were relatively free to go about our assignments. Of course, I heard that if you weren't in your room by curfew, it would activate your Slave Crest periodically to "encourage" you to return. Beyond that, food and water were delivered daily, and clothes were provided. They were unbearably simple, especially compared to the dresses I'd gotten used to wearing, but I couldn't complain.

The slaves performed most of the manual tasks around the Divine Throne. I hadn't thought much of them before, but even the maids who cared for Soltair were slaves. They did the cooking, cleaning, and general maintenance of the grounds, and were occasionally called in for special favors among the upper echelon. I couldn't gather much about that, but even hearing the rumors sent shivers down my spine. The fact that only young, female slaves were ever requested said more than enough.

Every slave was bound by similar commands, much like the ones Soltair was forced to give at the bestowal of the Slave Crest. A few other restrictions were in place, but that mostly had to do with the day-to-day chores. Suspiciously, no commands restricted violence or assault amongst slaves, but I figured there wasn't much to worry about. Rumors spread quickly among the slaves, and most kept far away from me. Being known as a dangerous hero had its perks, after all. The most bothersome command was an order to obey any priest, no matter their rank or role in the Divine Throne. It wasn't hard to see how that might be exploited.

"Filthblood, I do not have the time to waste while you ponder whatever is going through your horned head." Father Ithris said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yes, Father," I said respectfully. I learned quickly that any disrespect meant shorter sessions at the Library.

We arrived at the training grounds to find things already in progress. Selena moved amongst the mages, giving guidance and rebuking those who endangered themselves and others with their magic. Her face brightened when she saw us, and she quickly hurried over. I caught a hint of concern in her eyes as she caught sight of the Father, but the elf was all smiles.

"Welcome back! It's been a few days, Xiviyah. I heard some rather... unfortunate things happened." She said, then suddenly paused as if she remembered something and curtseyed, "Father. Forgive my negligence"