The Dragon's Slave

Chapter 1

I smoothed the soft rumple of silk at my waist. The dress, both revealing and flattering fit with perfection, the bright red and deep black lace chosen to accent my olive skin and black hair. And it did it's job. Of course it did. Everything in the choosing house was about perfection. Perfection and service and obedience.

The other girls in my section were prepared as well, they had chattered happily all morning, glad to be free of the regular maintenance of the day. They too were dressed with a strict eye to their unique aspects. Feini, Blond and pale as the winter moon, dressed in startling shades of amber and deep gray, her hair bound up and away from her high cheekbones and highlighting the icy blue of her eyes. Kriana, with her dusky complexion highlighted by an an ungodly yellow, a color that would make me cringe on any other, but of course Kriana pulled it off and it made her noble features all the more striking. Then there was Hira, her sweet delicate features surrounded by white lace with startling strands of deep gold and dusky orange. Her brunette hair hung loose in all of its glorious length, expertly curled into a cascade of ringlets. And Mianish, petite in every way, slender and striking, her long thick lashes creating the illusion that she was all eyes and lips and subtle curves.

Five women, something for every man's taste they said. And it was choosing day.

Freedom, just beyond my grasp, and this time I would be able to act upon it.

The last three choosing days I had been deemed ready and lined up with the other girls, like rows of chattel, but I had been passed over. It was possible my indignation at the situation might have bled through my demeanor and the various buyers had passed me over for easier, softer slaves.

Today though, today would be different. I would choose a buyer, a soft middle aged man, with greedy eyes and a dim mind, and for him I would act the part. I would do whatever it took to be chosen. And then, once the buyer broke me free from the choosing house I would make my escape.

The line of potential slaves stood obediently in the entrance hall, a grand room decorated with gauze drapes, soft cushions and dim, suggestive nooks. Every aspect of the presentation was perfect, a grand effort for show and profit.

The managers stood, half-hidden along the rich wooden walls decorated with fine tapestries and gold-plated wrought iron creations. One for each slave sold, a multitude of various talents, developed strenuously.

I cringed. My own artistic ability was a disappointment to the managers, my piece, three years in the making was likely hung in the back, behind a large curtain. No, it was certain that my other talents would be toted first, should a buyer express interest.

Still, I spent time searching for my piece, a wreckage of metalwork in a vague semblance of the dragon guardians that protected the city. Very vague. Searching kept my heart beating slow and my stomach in its place instead of up in my throat where it kept trying to climb.

I would only have one chance, and that knowledge drove my nerves into a tangled mess.

The sound of a rattling groan signaled the beginning of ceremony. Heavy wooden doors, stained dark and meticulously up kept swung inward, guided by two well dressed girls, nearly to the choosing age. A temptation for buyers who did not find what they wished on this day.

Light flowed across the polished stone floor, landing directly at my feet.

I had to blink at the brightness, but it didn't matter since I was supposed to keep my eyes lowered anyway. Still, I managed to peer upward slightly through my heavily coated lashes. I needed to have an indication of what I was dealing with.

A line of figures stepped forward from the outside, difficult to distinguish in nature since the bright light transformed them into silhouettes. But as they came closer, striding deeper into the entrance hall I began to see them clearly. The first three were middle aged men, slightly soft with wealth and luxury, but neat and well kept. Each had several servants trailing them meekly and they smiled at the managers dressed in pristine white who stepped out to greet them. One more followed, a younger lord, servents trailed him as well, along with an aging man that I guessed to be his advisor. I watched him carefully, he had the proud stance of one noble born and he looked over us girls with lustful hunger.