The Curse of the beauty

Misbegotten spoils.

"Your prize has arrived."

A simple statement. Yet it carried weight when that 'prize' was another human being, enslaved against her will. If she could have, Emma would have just refused it, but then, she would have been sold off, and the gold given to her anyway. Fucking stupid tournament rules.

The guards parted at the entrance of her new room, moving to either side of the stone doorway, bringing through another figure.

The woman in black stood in front her, hands folded in front of herself, eyes downcast and expression neutral. Studying her for a second revealed more than she had seen from behind this morning. She was taller than Emma, and curvy, though her breasts appeared to have been restrained with some sort of band under her clothes. She had been relieved of her weapons, and there was a black collar around her neck now, without any visible way to open it. Her black hair flowed down her shoulder, ragged from a recent struggle.

The foremost guard approached Emma where she sat on her cot, and held out his armored fist. It held an open bracelet, ready to clasp over her wrist and confirm that she was the master of this new slave. She took it, then lay it on the cot next to her, leaving it open.

She waved the guards out, and they left in single file, brushing past the woman standing in her doorway, not having moved an inch. The door closed behind them with a dull boom, echoing through the entire room.

For a moment after they left, Emma continued to study her, then spoke in a soft voice, patting a spot on the bed next to her.

"Come, sit down, will you?"

Eyes downcast, the woman did, with precise, mechanical movements.

"What's your name?"

"This one has no name, mistress."

Emma closed her eyes and sighed. Of course she was already acting like any other slave.

"Okay. First rule." She said as the woman visibly flinched. "Never refer to yourself as 'this one' in mine or anyone's presence.

Use 'I' or your name."

"..Very well, mistress."

"Who are you?"

"I am nameless, mistress."

Emma shook her head, yawning a little due to the aches in her body.

"No. Who are you? Who were you before you were enslaved? What's your life story?"

"My name is Tara. Before this, I was the daughter of a wandering warrior, traveling with him on his quest to gain strength. My father's name was Elor. He was a body cultivator. Somewhere along the way we met Lyssen, and his sister Lyac. They were orphans, so my father looked after them. That was maybe two years ago."

"What happened? You've been 'was' when talking about your father.

"He was killed shortly after we met Lyssen. He died in a random battle against bandits when he slipped in a puddle of blood. I started travelling with Lyssen and Lyac, and have been until...today."

"What are you good at?"

"Fighting, I guess. I used to be a really good fighter. I..actually haven't seen much action since we started travelling together."

She frowned, shaking her head, then continued.

"Little to none, now that i think of it. I was...always placed in a support role in battle, distracting enemies. Why would I agree to that?"

Emma had her suspicions about that, but kept her silence.

"Describe your time with Lyssen, if you want."