Claimed by Callista

Chapter ✺ 1

The crackle of the fires burning brighter, signify that he is coming. We've all been waiting for him.

"The Magus Sovrex Callista!" he's introduced by our leading Healer, though I cannot see him yet in the fire light, the only light in the dark.

We all line the Firewalk, where Sovrex warriors dance forward left and right to introduce the Magus. The King.

The Sovrex Tribe ruled the Dampwater – a place of plenty.

The rest of our smaller tribes hunted boar, and survived off fat insects or trading rare berries.

While the Sovrex Tribe ate like kings.

I stand at the far back of the girls all presented, keeping my head down, after wearing nothing but a wolf's coat. It covered me. Unlike the girls wearing nothing but beads and paint to attract Callista's attention.

After all, he was here to choose a slave to his manhood. A child bearer, one of us would soon become, to impregnate and probably die giving birth to what monster might arrive into the light of this world.

Drums beat low, fading out, as the rattles of older women cease due to the final approach of Magus Callister. Not just a King of this land but the punisher of the Sleetr; the people below him, outside of his Tribe. If you disobeyed him, you paid in blood.

Now, however, we were needed as we provided use for their lust. They all needed more women of all kinds, and already the first girls are picked by the head warriors, led by their shoulder and pulled into the dance.

Some of the girls are pleased, but some are rightly terrified.

I, however, was different. I had my plan to be avoided.

You see; presentation for the Sovrex was everything.

To appear below average was a spit in the face to their presence. You had to look presentable and desirable.

Which is probably why my mother is so distraught, standing back in the trees, I feel her glare through the back of my head.

She was persistent this morning.

Yehseeka, put your shoes on.

Yehseeka, braid your hair.

Yehseeka, make some paint for your body.

Yehseeka, Yehseeka, Yehseeka. Why don't I eat fucking rocks? I wish I could do that instead, with how out of place I feel right now. I had never felt like the Breeding kind of woman. I feel like, and am, a warrior!

Females could be warriors and often were trained to be – but you could not be just that.

However, that's all I wanted.

That's all I cared about.

I killed a wolf for its skin when I was ten.

I wear that garment now with pride, while I hide at the back.

There were at least a hundred of us, and most at the back were ignored for being ugly anyway. The chances of being interrogated for disrespect were slim to none when there were plenty of other choices anyway.

The only special occurrence of tonight's Sleetr trade, was Magus' presence.

And his Will.

For why would a Magus need a wife, when he could impregnate every female around?

For some reason, now he needs one to serve him.

Everyone wanted to be the Morgan. The Queen to serve him.