Chapter 1: Burnt and Starving

Another dinner, ruined.

"What's the point?" He grumbled, staring at the burnt green goop that was supposed to be eggs in front of him. "I have practically limitless power and I can't even scramble an egg!"

"No scramble." His slipper flying friend stated. "No good."

Mozenrath grabbed the eel out of the air and squeezed. "Thank you for your input Xerxes. It's great for stating the obvious."

The eel gasped and squirmed for breath. "Sorry master."

He grabbed the eel's tail, pulled back and sent it flying like a rubber band across the room and into the wall with a satisfying SPLAT. "I feel better now."

Mozenrath stood from his dreaded dish and wave his hand over it; making is disappear to places unknown. Leaving the dinner hall he headed to his lab to take his mind off his empty stomach which growled loudly at him. "Xerxes, come."

His slimy companion peeled himself off the wall and followed his master through the halls. "Master's tummy is loud today."

The young man turned and glared at his minion, raising a finger warningly at it. "What did I tell you about stating the obvious?"

"Sorry master. Xerxes hungry too."

"Ha! Like I care how you feel." The young man snarked. Motion caught his eye and he turned to see two mamluks headed towards the front door. "Where are you two going?"

"Uh." The grunted in unison, their green faces as expressionless as ever, pointing towards the front door.

Mozenrath smiled wickedly. "It seems we have an intruder, Xerxes. Shall we find out who's come to visit?"

Xerxes let out a hiss-like laugh. "Yes master."

The mamluks moved ahead of them and started to pull the massive door open. Out on the steps was a figure, lying face down and motionless. One pale arm stuck out from the mass of sand and covered brownish hair, the body was covered in a mud-red robe and dirty encrusted feet.

Mozenrath's shadow cast itself over the body as he loomed over it, moving down a step to look at it better; dark curls of hair falling around his face where they escaped his turban's hold on them. "This isn't an intruder." He nudged the body with his dark boot and rolled it over, a face becoming visible in the mass of tangled hair. Pale skin patched through muddy, sand coated splotches; the eyes were closed but the round mounds of her breasts moved, still intaking breath. "A woman."

Xerxes slithered over her body, looking up at his master. "Still alive. What to do master?"

Mozenrath smiled wickedly, his dark eyes glimmering with his usual mischief. "The dungeons are full of junk so put her in the back storage room for now." He turned and headed back inside. "Xerxes," He called, waiting for his slithering minion to come to him. "Inform me when she wakes. I want to talk to her."

"Yes master." The eel nodded and went back to the mamluks who were picking her up and carrying her into the palace. "Hurry up! Work faster!"

Honey brown eyes opened to a great view of a ceiling, high up and made of dark sandstone. Her fingers traced underneath her and felt nothing but a grungy old rug. Shifting her gaze to the right she saw boxes: some open, some closed, along with various rugs, tapestries, papers, crates, books and general stuff piled higher and deeper. A storage room she gathered. A door sat on the other side of the room seemed to be the only visible entry or exit. And it was closed.

She sat up and immediately regretted it. Her head was throbbing, her body ached, her mouth was dry and tasted of sand and her stomach growled with a nasty vengeance. But she was alive, which made the whole situation a million times better. With a touch to her head she winced, a large gash and bump present on the side of her head just past her hair line. When she tried to run her fingers through her massive of tangles they stuck, making her wince as the yank of knots made her head hurt all the more.

There was movement out of the corner of her eyes. She gasped at the sight of a slimy grayish brown, eel-like creature was curled up on a nearby box, twitching and muttering in its sleep. Shakily she scooted away from it, bumping into a pile of boxes which instantly started to jolt and fall. She grabbed for it, but her stiff body couldn't catch and support the whole weight. The whole tower came crashing down into a splintering pile of wood, straw, and pottery.

The eel woke with a start, scrambling into the air, frantic faced. It took one look at her, she look at it and each screamed in surprise. It started yelling, "Master! MASTER! Girl is awake! GIRL IS AWAKE!" Flying up and through a high window it disappeared it voice growing fainter sounding as it left.

Panic set in. If that was some sort of lackey or sentential, why the hell did the 'master' look like? What if he wasn't a nice guy? Anyone with a creature like that as a minion can't be good right? She leaned forward and tried to stand, but her achy legs wobbled and buckled underneath her, leaving her tumbling to her hands and knees. Trying again she ended up tripping herself and falling forward onto her face.

"Having trouble?" A voice asked in front of her.

She looked up to see a pair of black boots in the doorway, traveling up the figure and found a man standing just inside it, leaning against the entry, arms crossed over his chest smiling wickedly down at her. He had dark eyes which flickered with cruel intentions and even darker hair that curled around his ears and the back of his neck, the rest of it was hidden, stuffed up underneath a dark blue turban which matched his robes. She could see a patch of brown leather, a glove, peaking out on his right hand from where his arms crossed, but oddly enough his left was bare.

"M-my legs don't seem to want to work quite right yet." She said simply. She met his eyes and instantly regretted it, the look in them reminded her too much of a cat's with a mouse. "W-who are you?"

"I am Mozenrath, ruler of the land of black sand which you are trespassing. And you are?"

She opened her mouth to answer but her brain drew a blank. Blinking she tried to remember, tried to think back, but all there was an empty blackness. "I am...uh..." She tried to think of a name, any name, hers or otherwise. Who she was, where she came from, but still, nothing came to mind. "I don't know."

His face turned angry and she shrunk into the rug behind her. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I can't remember it." She said honestly. "The last thing I remember was a sandstorm, a rock struck me on the side of the head, then spotting the black city. Everything else is blank."

In two quick paces he reached her, grabbing her by the chin and turning her head, pushing back her mass of tangles to spy the amassing bruise. He made a face of disgust and let her loose, glaring down at her. "Well, if you can't remember anything I guess there's no reason for me to interrogate you. Unfortunately for you that also means there's no reason I should keep you alive either."

"Wait!" She squeaked, panicked. "That's not true! I-I owe you my life, surely there's something I can do for you?!"

"Oh really?" He smiled wickedly, which made her very nervous. "How do you figure that?"

"I...um...I can work for you, if you want." She said, fidgeting her hands, rambling whatever ideas popped into her head. "I can clean you palace, wash your clothes, feed you eel or whatever that thing is..."

The last bit seemed to catch his attention. "Can you cook?"

She thought about it for a second. Did she know how to cook? Her gut said yes but her brain was still fuzzy. "I can try."

"Fine." He reached down and grabbed her arm, yanking her awkwardly to her feet and forcing her to move with him out of the room and down a short hall to a larger space, a kitchen, complete with stone oven, various cabinets some open, some not, and a long counter with a few stools on one side. He loosed his grip on her arm with a mild shove forward, letting her catch herself on the counter's edge for balance. "Cook something."

Her eyes widened and she looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "What?"

"Now, cook anything, just make something!" He sounded almost desperate.

"But I don't..."

"NOW!" He cut her off, sitting down on one of the stools at the end of the counter and slamming his gloved fist down so hard the utensils rattled, glaring holes in her.

Awkwardly she started opening various cabinets, stumbling and scrounging around, finding a good sized pan. She put it on the counter and looked at him. "Where do you keep all the food?"

"Door around the corner." He snapped, pointing to the left. He watched her disappear for a second or two before coming back with an armful of vegetables and a small bag of rice. He watched her start a fire in the alcove under the stove pit, putting the pot she'd found and filled with water over it to boil the rice and making quick work of cutting up vegetables with a random knife she'd discovered in a drawer. He watched her fingers move with surprising efficiency as she maneuvered through cutting up a slab of meat, her own gaze varying from focused to confused at her own practiced knowledge. Every minute that passed the room seemed to fill with more and more delicious smells to the point he was practically drooling. He evaluated her work as she maneuvered, still wobbling a bit on the occasional bad step, seemingly now oblivious on how she looked like she'd been in a mud wrestling match with a pig and lost. Hoisting a chunk of stuck-together hair over her ear as she placed a dish of meat, vegetables and rice in front of her they both stared at the dish for a moment. He looked at her, a narrow gaze, trying to determine if perhaps she'd poisoned it in some fashion. To his surprise she smiled at him, offering him a spoon. "I'll taste it for you if you're not sure, but either way I'd blow on it first, it's still hot."

He snatched to offered utensil and scooped up a bite, ignoring the burning heat as he took in a spoonful and froze. A shot of panic filled her stomach before he started to attack the dish like a starved beast, shoveling food in his mouth and scarfing down the rest. He finished the plate in record time, demanding seconds, and then thirds. It wasn't until his fourth helping that he put down his spoon and pushed the plate away. Silently she took the dish from him and licked her dry lips, steadying herself. "So can I stay?"

Can she STAY?! That was the best meal he'd had in ages and she was worried he was still gonna kick her out? The young man had to contain his inner laughter and instead opted for a cool and collected demeanor, that usual wicked grin returning as he stood from his seat. "The food was tolerable enough. However, if you don't follow my orders and do everything I command you to I WILL feed you to my man eating plants. And believe me, that's a KIND death."

Her smile widened a bit with hope. "Is that a yes?"

He looked at her, wrinkling his nose so he appeared to be so he appeared to be looking down at her and nodded. "You sleep in the back storage room. I want my breakfast an hour after sun up , lunch at noon, and dinner at sundown. When you're not cooking, you're cleaning and any other odd jobs I tell you to do. You will not receive any kind of payment except that you get to live another day, got it?"

She nodded. "Yes Master Mozenrath."

He grimaced inwardly. "Just Mozenrath will do. Otherwise you sound like that whiny eel."

"Then you can call me Rena." She smiled. "I thought of it while I was cutting vegetables. It sounded familiar so I guess that's what my name is."

Mozenrath rolled his eyes. "I don't care."

Xerxes came in then, slipping through the air like some flying snake. "FOOD!" He exclaimed and collided with the unfinished plate of food, devouring the leftover morsels similar to what his master had done so much Rena nearly dropped the plate from her arms.

The young man simply ignored the scene and raised his right hand, the glove glowing slightly before he vanished from sight, leaving the woman alone with his starving minion, secretly looking forward to more delicious dinners.