Survive

In Solis 438, a great volcano erupted out in the western ocean, a blast violent enough to rip land asunder and cause the sea to rush in. A thousand miles away, in Vinay del Zexay, the first sign that anything was wrong was a distant boom that rattled the widows and caused many of the residents to bolt upright in their beds. Most, upon hearing no further sound, promptly returned to sleeping. A few of the more perspicacious offered prayers to the runes of their devotion and then sought their rest.

Hours later, rolling out of the morning mist, the wave arrived. Though its original strength had now dissipated, it was more than powerful enough to toss boats into each other and partially flood the lower reaches of the city. To the north, at Budehuc Castle, a large merchant vessel was driven up against the quays, ruining them thoroughly. That castle's long economic decline was just beginning. Terrified Zexens streamed from their capital city, fearing what the next disaster would bring. However, everything returned to calm. Eventually people began to relax and the process of cleaning up began. Little did they understand that only the first phase of the catastrophe had ended.

Spring would give way to summer before the royal astronomers in Sol Falena, hundreds of miles to the south, began to notice the next phase. The sun was giving less light, day by day becoming more occluded. It was a bad omen, for as the light failed, so did the health of the dying Queen Olhazeta. Her two daughters were already marshalling their forces to contest the throne. The day the queen expired, torrential rain streamed out of the sky, not to stop for months. The Feitas River, normally tranquil and blue, turned muddy brown and raged over its banks. In the east, the New Armes Kingdom began preparing its forces to invade.

Further to the north, the summer was cool, and crops began to fail. The winter that followed did not give way to spring. Jowston and the Scarlet Moon Empire eyed each other warily, both nations filled with citizens that needed food. In Holy Harmonia, people packed the churches, praying to the runes to restore the natural order. Their generals and bishops, meanwhile, were drawing up the plans to conquer Sanadia. In Highland, already economically depressed by the war that had ended four years prior, the tragedy was immense. Unable to feed the population or collect taxes, the government of Agares Blight simply had to watch as much of its army turned to brigandage.

However, for a young girl named Elza who lived on the outskirts of Sajah Village, In Solis 438 was simply the year that the warmth went away.

One business continued on even in the tragedy, or perhaps because of the tragedy. In Unya of the following year, with the snow still half a foot deep in some places and the bitter wind howling, the slavers managed to roll into Sajah. In a normal year, one or two unfortunates might end up being sold from this town. This was not a normal year, and Elza's father knew it.

He considered himself a good man. He, along with the rest of the village, gathered at the shrine once a week to offer their prayers to the runes, the True Earth in particular. Throughout all of last summer, the local priest had exhorted them to pray, to fast, and to offer sacrifices. Nothing had helped; only a few went to the shrine now. The True Runes, if they were out there, were not listening.

He also considered himself a loving father, and if he loved his two sons slightly more than his three daughters, it was only because every father thought that way. After all, a son could help out in the fields and support the family. A daughter, especially one of unmarriageable age, was simply an extra mouth to feed. Moreover, he rationalized his decision by telling himself that a Harmonian slave, especially if she was a lady's maid, would always be well fed.

The deed had to be done quickly, without his wife knowing about it. For she, in her womanly emotional ways, would never see clearly that one child had to sacrificed so that the family might survive. But he also knew that the deed had to be done gently. He needed Elza's willing compliance in the matter, because a child with a good attitude was likely to command a greater amount of potch than a cantankerous child.

Elza, for her part, had just celebrated her fifth birthday. There had been no festivities, as had happened with her fourth birthday. Last year, with sun bright in the sky and the warm south wind blowing, her family had gone down to the nearby lake for a day of splashing and frolicking. When they'd returned, mother had brought out some candied apples, and father had presented her with a wooden toy horse.

That horse had gone into the fire in the winter. The sky was always dark and gloomy, and the lake was frozen. Nobody had any food to spare for treats, every meal was eked out of diminishing supplies, and everybody in the family was growing thin. In fact, the only notice Elza had of her birthday was when her mother pulled her aside one morning to quietly whisper the news to her.

Elza's chore during these times was to collect firewood. Sometimes she was joined in this endeavor by her brothers and sisters. Sometimes she went alone. There was a forest to the west of Sajah Village, and this was where she worked. In the eternal twilight, the woods was a realm of shadows. It was a place of dangers. Ravenous wolves and bears lurked, waiting to prey on the unwary. Villagers were also there, some of them looking for the opportunity to steal the wood that others gathered. After all, corpses were easily concealed in snow banks.

At five years old, Elza was hardly strong enough to go into the forest and chop down trees. A skinny little girl with a mop of yellow hair, she tried to make do by bringing home armfuls of twigs, or dragging larger branches behind her. Sometimes she got them home, sometimes she had to leave them behind to flee the predators, human or otherwise.

So when Elza's father stopped her one morning, before she had gone too far towards the forest, she was not terribly displeased. His mood seemed to be good, and she smiled, glad that her father was not brooding, as he had of late. Before everything had gone cold, he'd been kind and soft-spoken. Now he was often temperamental and prone to hitting people when he grew frustrated. He'd often scolded Elza for not bringing home enough wood.

Now, though, her gentle father returned her smile. "How would you like to walk with me, Elza? I was planning to go into the village today, to get some food."

It never occurred to her to wonder why there would be food in the village when there wasn't food anywhere else. She was in nature a trusting child, and gladly accepted the invitation. Sajah Village was three miles from the family farm, down a rutted road that would've normally been dusty but was now frozen solid. Ice and snow had accumulated in the ruts.

For a while they walked in silence, passing farmsteads with barren fields, stumps of chopped down trees, and empty barns. In places people were already beginning to tear down barns and even parts of houses to provide firewood. After some time, Elza's father murmured. "Are you hungry, my dear? Wouldn't it be grand if you had enough food to fill your tummy?"

Elza had long since forgotten what having enough food was like. She counted herself lucky when she could ignore the pain of hunger for most of the day. Then she remembered her father's words. "But we're going to get food, right? How much will you get?"

Her father didn't answer. Instead, he said, "I was thinking of sending you to Harmonia."

"What's Harmonia?"

"It's a place where there's plenty of food. You could be a lady's maid in Harmonia and have food to eat and a good bed to sleep on."

Elza considered this as thoughtfully as a five-year-old can. "What's a lady's maid?"

"Well, it's someone who does chores for a rich lady, whenever the rich lady asks. In exchange, the maid is given food and a place to sleep."

"That sounds nice," Elza said, her imagination trying to picture what her father described. To her, it sounded a lot like being a daughter.

"If I offered to send you to Harmonia, would you agree to go?" her father asked suddenly.

"But what about you and mother, and-"

Her father's face darkened momentarily, before he smiled and answered, "There's only space for one. Only you can go."

"Oh. Would you come visit, then?"

He nodded. "Of course we would, when we were able. It might be a while before we could. So, will you go?"

"Yes, daddy!" She hugged his leg fiercely.

They arrived in the village a quarter hour later. It was in a truly awful state. If the farmers were in trouble because they had no crops, at least they had stores that could be rationed out. The townsmen, relying on those farms for their food, had nothing. Many houses stood abandoned, stripped for firewood or with roofs collapsed from too much snow. The one road through the center of the village was where the slavers were, a few cage carts, with muddy wheels, lined up at the north edge of town. The horses and men attending those carts were similarly covered in muck. Even the listless, shackled slaves were dirty.

Elza stared at the human chattel in wonderment, while her father sought out the short, thin man who ran the caravan. "You wish to buy, or sell?" the boss demanded, when her father got to him.

"I'm selling. Her." He pointed in Elza's direction. When Elza saw this, she trotted right over to his side, smiling.

The slaver looked Elza over, considering. Elza scrunched up her nose; this man smelled in a way that was different from everyone else. It was unpleasant, but she had enough tact not to mention it. "She's a little scrawny for field work, too young for-"

"She's got a good attitude," her father chimed in. "With a little training, she might make an excellent maid.

"Could be," the man mumbled. "With that coloration, she looks almost full-blooded Harmonian herself. Perhaps some jumped up second class might want her, for the novelty, at least. Five hundred potch for her."

Elza's smile faded as she saw the look of consternation on her father's face, but he looked down at her, swallowed, and carefully took on a blank expression. "Five hundred potch is so little," her father replied. "How will I pay for seed if…when the next planting season comes around."

"That's not my problem. Look," he jerked his thumb in the direction of the crowded cage carts, "it's a buyer's market, not a seller's. Now, you want to make this deal or not?"

Her father hesitated one more time. "I don't want you selling her to some house of ill repute. I don't want her to be some man's plaything. Promise me, please."

The slaver casually put his hand on her father's shoulder. "I tell you what. You're a real man, right? And a man's only as good as his word. So, I promise you she won't get sold into prostitution. Now you can rest easy." He motioned a man carrying several strings of potch over and carefully counted out five. "There you go, and a very smooth transaction, if I must say so. Usually these things occur with the wife and child bawling out tearful good-byes. You, sir, have done this the right way. Easy on everybody."

Elza's saw that her father was holding the potch as far from himself as he could. He backed up next to her, looked down once, and shakily said, "Go ahead over there, dear. That man will take you to Harmonia."

Elza took a few tentative steps forward, trying to balance the promise of food against the slaver's menacing grin. The moment she was close enough, his hand shot out and gripped her around the wrist. "You'll be coming with me, dear."

Perhaps it was the grime under his nails that decided it, perhaps it was just that he wasn't her father, but she suddenly didn't want to go with this man. "Father, wait!" she cried and craned her head around to look for him. He was gone, having fled the scene as quickly as his legs could carry him.

With his other hand, the slaver grabbed Elza's forehead and turned her head back so that she was staring directly into his blood-shot brown eyes. "Your father doesn't want you anymore, but that doesn't matter. You're mine now!" Then, in one motion, he hefted her up and carried her through the open door of the closest cage cart, fitting one of her wrists into a leather shackle. Elza tried to fight back, but even if she'd known how to, she lacked the weight and muscle to do more than amuse him.

Once she was secure in the cart, the slaver called out to the rest of his men. "We're done here, got all the goods that I want. Next stop, Crystal Valley!" With a few more shouted commands, the slave caravan got underway. Elza flinched when a glob of mud from one of the wheels flew up and hit her square on the shoulder. She looked back towards the village one more time, expecting to see her father coming after her. He never did.

The trip to Crystal Valley took twenty-seven days. For Elza, this was a trip made in misery and pain. The carts rolled incessantly, stopping only once per day so that their occupants might be fed and watered. The food was boiled oats served in small wooden bowls.

Of course, just because she received a bowl didn't mean she got to eat the food. Thought most of the twenty-five occupants of the cart were around her age, a few were older. One of the older boys was shackled to her right. Without any words, he simply reached over and tried to take her food. Elza moved the bowl over to her far hand, but the boy grabbed her by her shirt and hauled both her and her food closer.

Outrage building with in her, Elza did the only thing she could, she tilted her head down and bit the boy on his arm, as hard as she was able. She heard him cry out, then pain crashed into the side of her head as he hit her. She kept her jaws nearly closed and worked to maintain her hold, but the second blow knocked her free. When, after a few moments, she was able to orient herself, she found that she still had a chunk of his arm in her mouth. She spat it out in disgust.

At this point, the slave master showed up to find out what all the commotion was about. Seeing the state of things, he cuffed Elza roughly on her forehead and shouted, "Don't go ruining my merchandise, you little twit! Do that again and I'll have you thrown off the cart." She considered biting the boy again, just to get thrown out, but couldn't bring herself to do it. The cart was her world now, and if it was horrible, at least it was something. At least it was going somewhere.

The bite wound that she'd given the boy did not heal, but festered. A few days later, he was too weak to defend his own food, let alone steal anyone else's. A few days more, and he was dead. This improved Elza's standing in the cart, though not in any way that she desired. Whenever she looked at any of them, they averted their eyes, not wanting to have anything to do with her.

The slave master, strangely enough, laughed at the loss of his merchandise. "You're a regular Soul Eater, aren't you? Anybody who gets too close to you is dead." He had his men haul down the body, and they left it by the side of the road, on top of a snowdrift.

The great city of Crystal Valley was centered on a large island in the middle of the Crystal River, though it had long since overgrown its original boundaries and spread to the shore on either side. In a normal year, the broad, shallow valley carved by the river would be verdant with growing crops, the land worked by thousands of slaves under the auspices of a few landowners. There were some crops, surprisingly, tended not by hordes of slaves, but by well trained rune mages, who worked to keep the soil warm and coax what little light there was out of the sky.

The river was frozen over, save for a narrow passage that was being kept open so that the vital ships carrying the bounty of the ocean might make their way to Crystal Valley's docks. The slave caravan worked its way through the slums on the south bank of the river, finally crossing over a great bridge of gleaming white metal.

Elza shook off her lethargy and took in the city with wide eyes. There were people everywhere, and though many were walking listlessly, or were huddled against the ruins of buildings, they were far more than she'd seen in her entire life. The older part of Crystal Valley was richer than the slums, and here the buildings towered into the sky. Dominating all of them, on the highest hill of the island, was the enormous Circle Palace. Twenty-seven tall towers ran the perimeter of a vast dome, all gleaming in shades of blue and white.

It took the whole day for the caravan to reach the sprawling slave pens on the northern part of the island. When they got there however, the caravan boss found that things were not good, for now he was trying to sell to a full market. None of the great slave dealers would even meet with him, so he set his carts in a small circle and camped on the outskirts of the market.

Elza and the other children remained there for several cold days. She had the chance to see many of the other denizens of the slave market. A Winghorde boy alone in a cage, kept trying to fly through the bars, beating his body against unyielding metal while his bat wings flapped vainly. He did this for hours, until he was too exhausted to go on and finally collapsed. There were kobolds, eyes wild with rage, who snapped at anyone who came too close. There was even a Nay-kobold, who was sold for over a hundred thousand potch.

And there were many, many humans, children and adults alike. People bought them and more always appeared to take their places. After enough time, none of this interested Elza any more. She lay back on the floor of the cage cart and stared at the dim, murky orb of the sun.

They were sold that night, though Elza wasn't privy to the negotiations. The buyer bought the whole lot of them, even the carts. Elza yawned and looked up, confused, as her cart began to move through the night. For a time, she could not see where they were going, but eventually saw that they were crossing over a bridge. Some time after that, she fell asleep again.

A slight touch at the leather shackle holding her against the bars of the cage cart brought Elza awake. A young man with short white hair was loosening it. Elza glanced around, trying to take in her new surroundings. A giant black tower caught her immediate attention, the center point of a large, walled enclosure that contained many other squat long buildings. They were outside the city, for she could see much more of the gray sky, but she didn't look at that for long.

The man was making his way around the cart, releasing the bonds of each slave. No one moved yet, and when he was finished, he lethargically said, "Everyone out, but stay together. Don't go anywhere we don't tell you to go."

Elza hopped down from the cart and almost lost her balance because she'd been sitting in there for weeks. She staggered around a bit while several of the other children did collapse. The children in the other carts were also being released. She took the moment to study the people who'd set them free. They were all young men and women who were similarly attired in dark shirts and pants. They all looked well fed and healthy, but none of them seemed very friendly.

When all the children, more than a hundred of them, had been gathered into a group, their minders led them towards the closest long house. Inside were tables and food. "Eat as much as you wish," said one the young women in a detached manner. "Then you shall rest until the orientation, tomorrow morning."

Many of the children rushed off to grab the food as quickly as they could, but Elza remembered her manners. "Thank you," she murmured to the nearest young man. He returned her thanks with a flat look, one that did not hold any friendliness. Elza's burgeoning smile died, and she turned to get some food with decidedly less enthusiasm.

When the children were finished eating, they were led to a room in the back that had rows of bunk beds. For the first time in a long time, Elza found herself in a place that was warm and safe. Her stomach was full. Yet she did not feel particularly happy. As she had watched her new minders, she saw that none of them ever smiled. They didn't speak to each other, they didn't play jokes, and they didn't laugh. They were less a family than the guards who'd escorted the slaver caravan. That thought made her shiver, despite the warm blankets. She wondered what tomorrow would bring.

Some hours later, the minders returned, waking the children and chivying them out of bed. Elza, like the others, obeyed their orders. There was little else she could do. The children were led through another door, one at the far end of the bedroom. It led outside, and even though the light was weak, Elza had to squint for a moment before her eyes adjusted.

"Greetings, new apprentices of the Howling Voice Guild," an older man's voice announced.

Elza got her bearings. She was in a long trench of earth that was deeper than she could jump and as wide as the building she'd just come out of. It was very long, but sloped up at the end, offering an exit. All along the top of the trench stood men and women of many ages, but all of them in the same black dress of the minders. The speaker was a tall, middle-aged man who stood at the top of the trench, just to Elza's left.

"My name is Sauro, an Elder of the Guild. I welcome each one of you into the arms of the Guild. Some of you are from foreign lands, some of you were raised in our crèche. None of that matters. All of you are equal in our eyes." Despite the speech, he didn't sound very welcoming to Elza. He sounded as though he had given this speech many times before. "The Guild exists to serve and protect Holy Harmonia from its enemies. Here you shall find purpose and duty. There are many rules that you must learn, but if you follow them, you shall find your destiny with us." He paused and held up one finger. "However, apprentices, there is one rule that applies above and beyond all others, the only one that applies to you today."

He swung his arm down, a signal, and spoke.

"Survive!"

There were other doors along the length of the trench, and these now fell open. The ravenous creatures that spilled out had wolves' heads, but could walk upright. Their large, muscled arms ended in blunt claws. Teeth glistened with slobber as they sniffed the air, swinging their eyes around to look at the children.

Elza nearly screamed, her legs threatening to give out. Other children were screaming, even as the monsters -ulse, though she didn't know that- approached. However, the Guild Elder's command was ringing in her ears, and even as the first ulse leapt, she was already running.

It landed behind her, the screaming grew frenzied, and then there were children and ulse all around Elza. She ducked around an ulse's leg, flinched when blood splattered against her arm, and ran on, clear of the monsters. She could hear them howling, grunting, and turning to pursue. A glance over her shoulder told her that they loped along on all fours, their knuckles dragging along the ground.

The faster runners among the children were already clear of the main group, sprinting for the slope and safety. Elza was not among them. In fact, she had stumbled, twisted her ankle slightly, and was falling to the back. One of the ulse turned in her general direction, long strides eating up the ground.

Elza looked back again; there was no one behind her but the monsters. Without thinking about it, she reached out and pulled the closest child in front of her off balance. It was a little girl, her brown hair done up in pigtails. Elza flung her to the ground, ran past her, and kept running, even when she heard the girl's final scream and the cracking of bones.

Then she had gained the slope leading up, one of the very last to do so. She ran up and collapsed at the feet of one of the Guild members, not daring to look up. She did look back, though, when one of the monsters started up the slope. Suddenly, there was an overpowering noise, almost a bark, and the monster's throat erupted in a gout of blood. The monster toppled backwards, falling to the turf dead. Elza looked over in the direction of the noise and saw one of the minders, with a long, thin, metal and wood device in his hands.

Behind the dead monster came a little boy, crawling along on his hands and one leg. The other was a mass of blood, gouged out from a bite, and the lower half hung at a grotesque angle. He seemed to be having difficult getting up the slope. "Help me," he cried. "Please!"

The Guild member that Elza was beside suddenly stiffened, and Elza looked up. This one was a very tall young woman with short dark red hair. She, too, had one of those metal devices, and was pointing it in the direction of the boy. Elza cowered when the device barked out, not looking towards the boy. All around the trench, there were other loud reports, each one of them ending the life of a child. After a while, all of the sounds ceased. The remaining monsters were also shot dead.

The young woman at Elza's side suddenly knelt down, ostensibly to check her weapon, but Elza could see that her eyes were moist. The woman looked at Elza, smiled very slightly, and whispered, "Survive, but don't lose sight of hope." Then she wiped her tears, stood, and walked away.

Elza had survived.