§ two §

Waking could never have been so onerous, so miserable. He can feel and hear a very low hum emanating from the floor. Blearily he opens his eyes to find himself in a box, a cage barely large enough to turn around in. All is smooth metal. He can hear strange voices not so far off speaking in a tongue he does not know. He peers through the grate toward a dim light at the end of a not so long corridor or aisle lined with cubicles the same as his own. He sees two men at a table each wearing red armor, helmets hung on the wall.

"so these were the demons"

It seems they are playing a game with wafer-thin pieces of wood.

"Fordan i set ae luyu, uh?" one says.
"Glada natch'e." says the other. This one smacks the table in apparent glee. "Sodo na ye! HA! HA!"

With that everything shutters and takes a terrific roll sideways and the happy one is thrown from his chair. A mean face comes over him and he rises to his feet. As everything settles he hammers on the wall with his fist, shouting "Grane! Grane!"

He rolls his eyes, "Shada, nu pleya du. Shada nu."

The other stifles a laugh.

The tumult has startled some of the other occupants in the other cages. Some have begun sobbing and crying.

The once glad man, now angry, growls, "Sheta. GHARA GRANE!"

He vehemently makes his way down the aisle, banging on the cages with his stick.

A young girl across from Onuup cries uncontrollably, "Mama, mama! I want my mama!"

She must be five years younger than Onuup, who fervently gestures her to quiet. "Shh....shh."

§

The old man walks with his son through the alleys and streets of Ador. How the years have passed, like petals falling from a Salarian tree. Soft pink flakes dropping one by one. Each a passing day, a month, a year. Some to be blown on the wind never to be remembered again.

What do we have here?

The old man stops at a merchants stall stunned by what he sees there. A Pluygast Danthartegeia skull. Fascinating, that beast is only to be found on the Isle of Grehna'domi in the Sighing Seas, two-thousand miles away. He passes his walking stick to the other hand and leans down. The vendor sits cross-legged in front of his wares. Laid out upon a simple bench are various items: a tooth brush (used), ivory comb, a multitude of small jars (obviously scents, maybe). But this skull; a rarity indeed. The old man picks it up, inspects it.

"Master Punjit." The vendor nods and offers a toothy, yet blackened grin, "I am humbled to have you at my service." The stink of his breath almost causes him to cover his nose, yet dignity and interest prevail.

"This? How much?" Punjit proffers the skull.

"Ah. Three rij, that one." Nodding his head.

The old man pulls out his purse and is about to pay the man.

"Father! Don't wander off like that!" The old man is startled and drops his coins. He can hear the ting, ting, ting...like music. He can't help but grin at that, . He looks up to see his son standing there. So tall now, amazing. He can't help but admire that and smile.

Wander

"Wander? I was...am here," he stammers.

"Yes, yes. You are here. I am here, but we must go before we are all too, too late," Guildmaster Superior Vordennih Shuildin z Goldanna Karahk of the Guild of Monetary Matters and Finance exasperatedly bends down to retrieve the coins.

Punjit glances down to his sandaled toes, "Mmm. I have said to you, son. I have no need of a...helper."

Vordennih rises with the coins in hand and pours them into Punjits purse, "We have gone over this father. With my new post at the guild I can't very well take care of you every passing moment."

He sighs and looks into his fathers eyes which have turned a bit hostile. Punjit spins around and stalks off before swiftly turning back and clapping the three rij onto the merchants bench and pocketing the skull, stalking off again.

Vordennih quickly gains on the old man, "Did you just give that rabble three rij for that piece of bone?"

Hobbling onward and without even a glance toward his son Punjit replies, "I see how ignorant you really are. Have I not taught you anything. Do you realize what this 'piece of bone' is? Never you mind, my money."

"That money, yes is yours, but is your stipend from the guild. You aught to watch your money better father."

"Fine. How about you not make this ridiculous purchase of a slave, then you can save a bit more money, uh?"

"Father, you need someone to be with you, to take care of you, wait on you..."

"Watch me? Make sure I don't wander off? Huh? So my son can forget about his old man?"

They continue on in uncomfortable silence. Punjit slows, slumps his shoulders, "Vordennih, I am sorry," he gazes at his son a moment then again forward, "This old man may very well need a little help now and then." Punjit sighs and catches a hold of his sons elbow and they make their way toward the slave markets.

§

[The following will be omitted for a later chapter. I'm working on a new chapter]

They had spent three days at the slave camp. Upon arriving they were stiffly roused from their cages and herded into a corral of sorts. There they were stripped and deloused with lye. The attendants themselves too were slaves as were attested by their thick black leather collars. The earth was hard-packed and dusty. The surrounding buildings were low stone constructions with flat roofs. And as they were ushered through the flimsy wooden gate

lined up to relieve a