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by Brastus 1/2/2015, 2:52 pmJuliana I
The time was perilous and full of dread. The hour of midnight enclosed my heart quickly and the enveloping darkness. I felt powerful hands shove against my back with a man wearing heavy armor and a rifle close to his hand. He ordered me to move forward on to the walk of never-ending torment. This was just an insult to my self. Not only was I forced to walk over a bridged built over the ruins of my once prideful city, but also I had to do so with only the barest of clothes. A makeshift top made out of bandages and a small skirt that didn’t help either. My anger and frustration boiled to extremes. I felt that my weary eyes wanted to spew forth tears of wrath, but alas, I had already ran out of tears the day the bombs and the beasts destroyed everything I once held close to my young heart.
The day was September 1 of the year 2267. That day I remember waking up on a hard, stole-like bed that really did nothing for my back, but at least provided me with the comfort of sleep, and the sound of vivid music accompanied by flamboyant dancers and buildings that rose in hues of rainbows. I remember putting on my platinum and white armor, fastening my sword, Justitiam quick to my side and tying my honey brown hair in a tight braid so no hair fell out f place. I was a commander and while I was in charge of the defense of the city I didn’t feel the need to really rouse my troops since it seemed like a serene enough day. I thought about heading down to the royal palace so I could enjoy breakfast with my sister, princess Isabel Von Kronen Valerius, and my dearest friends Rosa Von Waldestein and Nicolas Von Ottoheim. I would not meet my mother since she and I didn’t really like each other but I would enjoy a moment with my friends and my sibling. I recall walking down the cheerful streets of the royal city of Margrace with the citizens waving their hands at me and with bright smiles flashed fast at me. I remember the perfumed air provided by the hanging rose gardens of the city teasing my senses and I remembered the feeling of sensing innocent days pass by with jovial demeanors and hearty laughs.
The last thing I remember from my fair city was the sound of the alarms that signaled the herald of the bombs. I remember the last smile I flashed and the blood that flowed down the streets as concrete and stone fell and smashed ignorant civilians who bore no sins to puddles. I remember the screams of children searching for their mothers, many of which had been reduced to charred bones and no skin. I remember the desperate pleas the masses made towards a God that never heard their prayers. I remember the beasts that ravaged the land and hunted down those who managed to survive the blasts. I remember the fire that consumed the city and the feeling of utter helplessness that took complete control over me. I remember trying to aid a family, only to discover that the path I had told them to run towards ended up blowing up by some fucking bomb that landed on top of them. I remember the march of the imperials who raped my city with their vile seeds of demons. I remember the hands of a brute who grabbed me and threw me against a wall so many times I felt my bones break one by one until he stopped. I remember the taste of his filthy tongue over my breast as he shoved against me and I remember the tears that ran through my eyes as I witnessed the fall of the Kingdom of Narsundia.
That day, the Grand Empire of Aestia, a superpower that gained control over all of the American continent and held colonies on the lands of Africa, Asia and Antarctica, declared war on not only Narsundia’s, but on all of the World. In their vile lust for power, the Empire decided to destroy the delicate balance of the world by invading not one, but four countries simultaneously and without warning. With the Garrison Union of Dalmasca, the Empire of Huang, the Federation of Zula and the Kingdom of Narsundia all falling to imperial control, only the United Republic of Regnum, another superpower that once held colonies on all seven continents but lost it’s American colonies, could rise up and defeat the heinous empire. Only Regnum could defeat Aestia. Last I heard from the news that the forces of Regnum successfully managed to reclaim most of the territory administered by Dalmasca, but that news was from ten days ago so maybe Regnum succeeded in restoring the Union or maybe it failed. I knew not and cared not. Right now my mind was in history but my body was inside a malicious building with dark red walls and ostentatious decorations.
I knew exactly where I was and to be frank, I was not surprised. This was the Human Auction House built just a day after Narsundia fell. This monstrous building towered over many of the other buildings the Aestians builds after their conquered the nation. I growled at the sight of it. Underneath this tower of enslavement was the ruins of an old school where children played around. How fitting that an Empire bent on ruling the world built a house of slaves over the corpses of children! I stopped walking and made the enchained row of citizens that had been brought to be auctioned halt. I could not stand for this wickedness and bloodshed. The same guard that shoved his stubby hand against my back now threatened me with his gun, but I kept my eyes fixed. I saw the wrinkles in his face furrow at the sight of my hazel eyes held in pure stares. He became visually started. I wasted no time and I, with use of my hands and feet deprived from me due to the shackles I wore, opted to jerk my head against the side of his face. Clenched my teeth against his disgusting ear and proceeded to yank with all my strength until the wax-filled organ ripped from the head in a bloody shower that spewed from his side. I wanted to make him suffer but I guess that stealing from him one of his ears would suffice. Afterwards I spat the severed ear down on the ground and proceeded to stomp it with my ensnared feet. The man, now reduced to a screaming [CENSORED], grabbed his side and let out a string of curses that were so stereotypical of a brute. He cursed at me with his eyes set in fire and he used his heavy rifle as a club and proceeded to bash it against my head until I began to see white hazes. Still, I regretted nothing. If anything he deserved something far worst than that.
After some two minutes of beating me with the blunt side of his gun, he aimed the barrel to my head and made as if he was going to fire his gun. I scoffed at the idea. If anything I was precious cargo that was going to be sold to some fucking noble. So I smirked at the man with my nape bloody and I stood my ground.
“Fire you fucking beast! I dare you to fire that gun before I bite off your [CENSORED] and eat it for dinner!” I cursed between snarls to the man who pressed his finger to the trigger and made as if he was going to actually shoot me. I kept my eyes straight in defiance and with my smirk held on constant. The man gritted his ill-brushed, yellow teeth and cursed once again. However upon a flash the sound of a single gunshot was heard, but yet I lived and no blood, outside the one on my head, left my body.
The man who pointed his gun at me had been disintegrated from a single fire of a man with a handgun in his hand and a monocle in his left grey eye. He wore nobility clothes and had the typical air of an aristocrat surrounding him. He looked angry for some strange reason but instead of acting like a human was supposed to and curse, he took out a hander shift and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He then walked over to me with the clanking of his stilettos and sighed in an overly dramatic way. Man, this guy was a peace of work alright!
“My goodness what a barbaric display of animals. However, I didn’t waste money searching for you lot so a lowly peasant kills you. I would have my pockets filled back again before your new masters do what they wish with you.” Exclaimed the man who hid the gun behind his embroidered greatcoat. I wanted to laugh at the way he ruffled himself up. It was just so fake and unrealistic that it was ludicrous!
“Now if we could, I would have us return to the House without any further blood. Am I clear, beasts?” asked the bastard as he turned his back against the row of people and began to walk back to the main gate of the Human Auction House.
After some twenty steps, the mighty, castle-like gates of the House swung open and revealed a hallway laded with gilded statues and glass chandeliers that seemed to go on for an eternity. From this point onward I began to see several nobles from the Empire that took residence on Margrace. They looked at us, the captured ones, as simple playthings. To them they just saw new sex slaves, new gladiators and new servants. They didn’t seen any human beings, just hounds brought to some twisted pound for their amusement. Many where delighted at the sight of the men behind me, while some whispered behind feathered fans rumors and words to amuse each other. They were so disgusting! These bastards were the only sub-humans here.
Eventually, we were brought before a great ampitheather-esque room with a massive stage up front and more than a thousand rows of seats in front of the stage. Surprisingly, they were all filled with excited nobles who were either stuffing their white, make-upped faces with lavish baked goods and expensive wines. They all wore expensive gowns or suits and kept on looking down on us, the new products, with wild tongues and the ever-present spreading of rumors to each other. The master, the man who had shot the guard before, began to have idle chat with some nobles he was acquainted with, but only did so until he snapped his fingers again. Once again we had to walk behind him.
This time we were taken down the stage. This was most likely where the stylists would make sure we all looked desirable enough. Some of the more muscular men had to remain shirt less so they displayed their well-developed chests, and some of the more attractive women had to wear revealing dresses as if to seduce the nobles. I was subjected to a rather regal white gown with a lot of jewels, most likely diamonds, and other accessories like bracelets of platinum, necklaces of silver, earrings and high heels that were the same color as the gown and a small diamond tiara over my combed back honey brown hair. It was like someone, namely my mother, gave these people a list of all the things I hated wearing. I detested the gown, the shoes were uncomfortable, the bracers were too tight, the necklace squeezed against my neck and the way they combed my hair felt more like a scalping. From this point forward I thought there truly was nothing worst in the world, but I was very wrong.
Immediately after the stylists finished putting on my outfit, which I resisted some bit by thrashing around, the master came back to the room with his signature monocle placed on his eye again. He seemed a bit hurried since he anxiously told the Head Stylist something that made him, the Head Stylist, snap his fingers so work was done faster. Much to my delight, I ended up knocking out a few teeth from a kick I delivered to the woman who placed the shoes on me. Although I was received with a powerful punch to the face by one of the guards inside the room. I spewed out a bit of blood from my face, but quickly another stylist came over and applied some cream on my face, the same cream he had earlier placed on the wound on my nape, and instantly my wound was healed. I had to make a mental note to steal a jar of that cream because something told me I would be needing a lot of it in the future. Now that I stood completely dressed, as well as seeing that all my other fellow captured people had all too finished dressing, the master sighed in relief and clapped his hands as if to congratulate the stylists who torture and mutilated us, and mind you a delicate scalp that had never been treated so horribly before! Quickly we were told to make a strict line directly underneath the stage by one of the master’s orders. He had a pad that held all of the information about each person in detail. Most likely he would read out the facts in order to get the bidding started. Speaking of which, after barking out a few orders, we were forced to wait behind a square outlined by red chalk until the indicated time.
The process was brutally haunting! First we had to step into the square after some of the servants of the stage indicated us and then, after three seconds, the master would announce the name of the person and would be launched upwards like a personal elevator where the thousands of nobles broke down into roaring applause that celebrated the presentation of the newest slave. In front of me was a woman with brown hair, blank blue eyes and a skin-tight black dress. She seemed so terrified and hurt. I had to admit she was quite striking, but to these nobles, beauty often meant becoming a sex slave. As the line grew smaller and smaller and the nobles purchased down more and more people, I saw the girl quiver more and more until I placed my hand on her shoulder and gave her the most comforting smile I could.
“Don’t worry. I heard that if you act calmly and don’t respond to anything the master says, the nobles see you as boring. So for your own sake make yourself the most boring you can!” I said trying to calm her down a bit. Of course boring had nothing to do with how these people were but I had to at least give her something to hold on to before going up their or else they would eat her up like hungry beasts.
“Th-thanks.” Whispered the girl who seemed to calm down a bit, well as calm as it was possible during these kind of events. I pitied her completely. She was small, fragile and young, about sixteen or seven years of age the same age as my own younger sister. These were all key indicators that she would be sold to some perverted noble who would use her to satisfy his own lust-borne urges. It repulsed me to imagine what fate awaited the girl but I had to maintain myself calm and collective or else the nobles would see my anxiety and would take me as some saintly virgen.
After five minutes, the girl in front of me was forced to step into the red square and was elevated to the stage. I heard some of the things the master said. According to him, this woman was once the daughter of a rich merchant who managed to make his wealth by selling clothes and was taught how to make nice sets of clothes. I couldn’t make the prizes right but I heard that the starting price was five hundred thousand for being an upper-class resident and for holding a skill, in her case clothes making. I heard several noblemen scream out their offers. I heard numbers go up by the second but after twenty bids the girl had been bought.
Finally, or rather, unfortunately, my time had arrived. Right after the girl with the black dress had been bought I was pushed to the red square. I turned my head behind to see who was behind me, but to my surprise saw nobody at all, which meant I was the special of the day. I closed my eyes, straightened my back and remembered all my father had taught me during etiquette class for noblewoman. I straightened my back, held my hands in front of me and took three deep breaths that proceeded to end after the countdown started.
3…
2…
1…
Immediately I was elevated to the great stage. The first thing that struck me was the blinding white light that destroyed my eyes and forced me to squint. The second thing I noticed was the massive applause that I was received with on behalf of the nobles and the third thing was the master, standing behind a podium with a set of hovering spheres that functioned like microphones over his head. E had a huge plastic smile on his pulled face and waved to the audience. I looked at the nobles with my hazel eyes and suddenly gasped. Those devils dressed in gold were horrible. They had eyes crueler than Lucifer’s plastered on their operated faces and had shining intents of predatory mischievousness that screamed their intent. I was a pretty face to be sold to the highest bidder and my dress made nothing to calm down the nobles. The master proceeded to smile again at the crowd yet this time he looked serious.
“Now let the highlight of the night come out on stage. Today I, Fredric Von Braum present to you the eldest daughter of King Charles Von Agron Valerius, the former crown princess of the Kingdom of Narsundia, the Grandmaster of the Holy Order of the Valkyries, the Archangel of Margrace, Juliana Von Kronen Valerius!” Declared the master, who revealed his name to be Fredric to the crowd before announcing who I was. Yes I was a warrior and yes I was the daughter of my father but I was by no means a silly haired fridge damsel-in-distress princess. I wanted to grimace at the crowd but I decided it was best to keep calm.
“This gorgeous Venus is a warrior said to rival those uncivilized Legates of Regnum in the field of battle and, mind you all, is a beauty without compare! We are truly blessed by God with this most august presentation of sheer perfection! Bidding starts at 100,000,000 imperial pounds!” said Fredric as he slammed his gavel down and began the bidding process.
“150,000,000!” Screamed a woman who raised a card with the number one hundred and ten on it.
“160,000,000!” screamed another noble!
“300,000,000! Screamed yet another noble!
And then out of the riot of numbers and shouts, came out a single number that made sure to crush all other numbers.
“1,000,000,000 imperial pounds!”
With that, all nobles inside the vast room stopped bidding and placed their numbers down. I myself was caught in a state of utter shock. Even Fredric himself was agape after hearing the number. After the nobles calmed and sat down on there seats the bidder was finally revealed. The noble in question revealed himself to be an elderly man well passed his prime with pale skin and a thin, almost skeletal figure. That man had faded blue eyes that weren’t filled with lust or held intrigue in battle but possessed some sort of aura that I could not explain. He had a firm face with a number of wrinkles yet somehow, looked relatively younger than I thought him to be. He was dressed in a blue greatcoat with large ruffled sleeves, a red waistcoat, blue trousers and black leather shoes. His outfit was dusted with gold all over and a large white cravat was fastened to his neck. His white hair was combed backwards and he wore a diamond broche on top of his cravat. He wasn’t powerfully built, nor was he particularly good-looking for a man of his age, but it seemed as though his very presence demanded attention. He must have been one of the more important nobles. A much younger woman who I believed was his daughter since she had the same faded blue eyes that the noble held accompanied him and hair as golden as the coins she probably spent in order to dress herself up with. She was dressed in a platinum gown with golden accessories and a large red ruby the size of a chestnut on her finger. She also fanned herself with what I believed was an ostrich-feathered fan and styled her hair in a way medieval women did. She had a smug face that she partially covered with her hand, hiding the smirk her rouge lipstick held, whle her father’s outstretched hand powerfully extended forward as if to pull me away from the stage and into his side immediately.
“1,000,000,000 imperial pounds going one, going twice, sold! Congratulations Maxilimilian Von Vergoldet, Imperial Viceroy of Narsundia!”
and just like that, without saying a single word, I became the slave of the most powerful man in this portion of the Grand Aestian Empire.
The time was perilous and full of dread. The hour of midnight enclosed my heart quickly and the enveloping darkness. I felt powerful hands shove against my back with a man wearing heavy armor and a rifle close to his hand. He ordered me to move forward on to the walk of never-ending torment. This was just an insult to my self. Not only was I forced to walk over a bridged built over the ruins of my once prideful city, but also I had to do so with only the barest of clothes. A makeshift top made out of bandages and a small skirt that didn’t help either. My anger and frustration boiled to extremes. I felt that my weary eyes wanted to spew forth tears of wrath, but alas, I had already ran out of tears the day the bombs and the beasts destroyed everything I once held close to my young heart.
The day was September 1 of the year 2267. That day I remember waking up on a hard, stole-like bed that really did nothing for my back, but at least provided me with the comfort of sleep, and the sound of vivid music accompanied by flamboyant dancers and buildings that rose in hues of rainbows. I remember putting on my platinum and white armor, fastening my sword, Justitiam quick to my side and tying my honey brown hair in a tight braid so no hair fell out f place. I was a commander and while I was in charge of the defense of the city I didn’t feel the need to really rouse my troops since it seemed like a serene enough day. I thought about heading down to the royal palace so I could enjoy breakfast with my sister, princess Isabel Von Kronen Valerius, and my dearest friends Rosa Von Waldestein and Nicolas Von Ottoheim. I would not meet my mother since she and I didn’t really like each other but I would enjoy a moment with my friends and my sibling. I recall walking down the cheerful streets of the royal city of Margrace with the citizens waving their hands at me and with bright smiles flashed fast at me. I remember the perfumed air provided by the hanging rose gardens of the city teasing my senses and I remembered the feeling of sensing innocent days pass by with jovial demeanors and hearty laughs.
The last thing I remember from my fair city was the sound of the alarms that signaled the herald of the bombs. I remember the last smile I flashed and the blood that flowed down the streets as concrete and stone fell and smashed ignorant civilians who bore no sins to puddles. I remember the screams of children searching for their mothers, many of which had been reduced to charred bones and no skin. I remember the desperate pleas the masses made towards a God that never heard their prayers. I remember the beasts that ravaged the land and hunted down those who managed to survive the blasts. I remember the fire that consumed the city and the feeling of utter helplessness that took complete control over me. I remember trying to aid a family, only to discover that the path I had told them to run towards ended up blowing up by some fucking bomb that landed on top of them. I remember the march of the imperials who raped my city with their vile seeds of demons. I remember the hands of a brute who grabbed me and threw me against a wall so many times I felt my bones break one by one until he stopped. I remember the taste of his filthy tongue over my breast as he shoved against me and I remember the tears that ran through my eyes as I witnessed the fall of the Kingdom of Narsundia.
That day, the Grand Empire of Aestia, a superpower that gained control over all of the American continent and held colonies on the lands of Africa, Asia and Antarctica, declared war on not only Narsundia’s, but on all of the World. In their vile lust for power, the Empire decided to destroy the delicate balance of the world by invading not one, but four countries simultaneously and without warning. With the Garrison Union of Dalmasca, the Empire of Huang, the Federation of Zula and the Kingdom of Narsundia all falling to imperial control, only the United Republic of Regnum, another superpower that once held colonies on all seven continents but lost it’s American colonies, could rise up and defeat the heinous empire. Only Regnum could defeat Aestia. Last I heard from the news that the forces of Regnum successfully managed to reclaim most of the territory administered by Dalmasca, but that news was from ten days ago so maybe Regnum succeeded in restoring the Union or maybe it failed. I knew not and cared not. Right now my mind was in history but my body was inside a malicious building with dark red walls and ostentatious decorations.
I knew exactly where I was and to be frank, I was not surprised. This was the Human Auction House built just a day after Narsundia fell. This monstrous building towered over many of the other buildings the Aestians builds after their conquered the nation. I growled at the sight of it. Underneath this tower of enslavement was the ruins of an old school where children played around. How fitting that an Empire bent on ruling the world built a house of slaves over the corpses of children! I stopped walking and made the enchained row of citizens that had been brought to be auctioned halt. I could not stand for this wickedness and bloodshed. The same guard that shoved his stubby hand against my back now threatened me with his gun, but I kept my eyes fixed. I saw the wrinkles in his face furrow at the sight of my hazel eyes held in pure stares. He became visually started. I wasted no time and I, with use of my hands and feet deprived from me due to the shackles I wore, opted to jerk my head against the side of his face. Clenched my teeth against his disgusting ear and proceeded to yank with all my strength until the wax-filled organ ripped from the head in a bloody shower that spewed from his side. I wanted to make him suffer but I guess that stealing from him one of his ears would suffice. Afterwards I spat the severed ear down on the ground and proceeded to stomp it with my ensnared feet. The man, now reduced to a screaming [CENSORED], grabbed his side and let out a string of curses that were so stereotypical of a brute. He cursed at me with his eyes set in fire and he used his heavy rifle as a club and proceeded to bash it against my head until I began to see white hazes. Still, I regretted nothing. If anything he deserved something far worst than that.
After some two minutes of beating me with the blunt side of his gun, he aimed the barrel to my head and made as if he was going to fire his gun. I scoffed at the idea. If anything I was precious cargo that was going to be sold to some fucking noble. So I smirked at the man with my nape bloody and I stood my ground.
“Fire you fucking beast! I dare you to fire that gun before I bite off your [CENSORED] and eat it for dinner!” I cursed between snarls to the man who pressed his finger to the trigger and made as if he was going to actually shoot me. I kept my eyes straight in defiance and with my smirk held on constant. The man gritted his ill-brushed, yellow teeth and cursed once again. However upon a flash the sound of a single gunshot was heard, but yet I lived and no blood, outside the one on my head, left my body.
The man who pointed his gun at me had been disintegrated from a single fire of a man with a handgun in his hand and a monocle in his left grey eye. He wore nobility clothes and had the typical air of an aristocrat surrounding him. He looked angry for some strange reason but instead of acting like a human was supposed to and curse, he took out a hander shift and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He then walked over to me with the clanking of his stilettos and sighed in an overly dramatic way. Man, this guy was a peace of work alright!
“My goodness what a barbaric display of animals. However, I didn’t waste money searching for you lot so a lowly peasant kills you. I would have my pockets filled back again before your new masters do what they wish with you.” Exclaimed the man who hid the gun behind his embroidered greatcoat. I wanted to laugh at the way he ruffled himself up. It was just so fake and unrealistic that it was ludicrous!
“Now if we could, I would have us return to the House without any further blood. Am I clear, beasts?” asked the bastard as he turned his back against the row of people and began to walk back to the main gate of the Human Auction House.
After some twenty steps, the mighty, castle-like gates of the House swung open and revealed a hallway laded with gilded statues and glass chandeliers that seemed to go on for an eternity. From this point onward I began to see several nobles from the Empire that took residence on Margrace. They looked at us, the captured ones, as simple playthings. To them they just saw new sex slaves, new gladiators and new servants. They didn’t seen any human beings, just hounds brought to some twisted pound for their amusement. Many where delighted at the sight of the men behind me, while some whispered behind feathered fans rumors and words to amuse each other. They were so disgusting! These bastards were the only sub-humans here.
Eventually, we were brought before a great ampitheather-esque room with a massive stage up front and more than a thousand rows of seats in front of the stage. Surprisingly, they were all filled with excited nobles who were either stuffing their white, make-upped faces with lavish baked goods and expensive wines. They all wore expensive gowns or suits and kept on looking down on us, the new products, with wild tongues and the ever-present spreading of rumors to each other. The master, the man who had shot the guard before, began to have idle chat with some nobles he was acquainted with, but only did so until he snapped his fingers again. Once again we had to walk behind him.
This time we were taken down the stage. This was most likely where the stylists would make sure we all looked desirable enough. Some of the more muscular men had to remain shirt less so they displayed their well-developed chests, and some of the more attractive women had to wear revealing dresses as if to seduce the nobles. I was subjected to a rather regal white gown with a lot of jewels, most likely diamonds, and other accessories like bracelets of platinum, necklaces of silver, earrings and high heels that were the same color as the gown and a small diamond tiara over my combed back honey brown hair. It was like someone, namely my mother, gave these people a list of all the things I hated wearing. I detested the gown, the shoes were uncomfortable, the bracers were too tight, the necklace squeezed against my neck and the way they combed my hair felt more like a scalping. From this point forward I thought there truly was nothing worst in the world, but I was very wrong.
Immediately after the stylists finished putting on my outfit, which I resisted some bit by thrashing around, the master came back to the room with his signature monocle placed on his eye again. He seemed a bit hurried since he anxiously told the Head Stylist something that made him, the Head Stylist, snap his fingers so work was done faster. Much to my delight, I ended up knocking out a few teeth from a kick I delivered to the woman who placed the shoes on me. Although I was received with a powerful punch to the face by one of the guards inside the room. I spewed out a bit of blood from my face, but quickly another stylist came over and applied some cream on my face, the same cream he had earlier placed on the wound on my nape, and instantly my wound was healed. I had to make a mental note to steal a jar of that cream because something told me I would be needing a lot of it in the future. Now that I stood completely dressed, as well as seeing that all my other fellow captured people had all too finished dressing, the master sighed in relief and clapped his hands as if to congratulate the stylists who torture and mutilated us, and mind you a delicate scalp that had never been treated so horribly before! Quickly we were told to make a strict line directly underneath the stage by one of the master’s orders. He had a pad that held all of the information about each person in detail. Most likely he would read out the facts in order to get the bidding started. Speaking of which, after barking out a few orders, we were forced to wait behind a square outlined by red chalk until the indicated time.
The process was brutally haunting! First we had to step into the square after some of the servants of the stage indicated us and then, after three seconds, the master would announce the name of the person and would be launched upwards like a personal elevator where the thousands of nobles broke down into roaring applause that celebrated the presentation of the newest slave. In front of me was a woman with brown hair, blank blue eyes and a skin-tight black dress. She seemed so terrified and hurt. I had to admit she was quite striking, but to these nobles, beauty often meant becoming a sex slave. As the line grew smaller and smaller and the nobles purchased down more and more people, I saw the girl quiver more and more until I placed my hand on her shoulder and gave her the most comforting smile I could.
“Don’t worry. I heard that if you act calmly and don’t respond to anything the master says, the nobles see you as boring. So for your own sake make yourself the most boring you can!” I said trying to calm her down a bit. Of course boring had nothing to do with how these people were but I had to at least give her something to hold on to before going up their or else they would eat her up like hungry beasts.
“Th-thanks.” Whispered the girl who seemed to calm down a bit, well as calm as it was possible during these kind of events. I pitied her completely. She was small, fragile and young, about sixteen or seven years of age the same age as my own younger sister. These were all key indicators that she would be sold to some perverted noble who would use her to satisfy his own lust-borne urges. It repulsed me to imagine what fate awaited the girl but I had to maintain myself calm and collective or else the nobles would see my anxiety and would take me as some saintly virgen.
After five minutes, the girl in front of me was forced to step into the red square and was elevated to the stage. I heard some of the things the master said. According to him, this woman was once the daughter of a rich merchant who managed to make his wealth by selling clothes and was taught how to make nice sets of clothes. I couldn’t make the prizes right but I heard that the starting price was five hundred thousand for being an upper-class resident and for holding a skill, in her case clothes making. I heard several noblemen scream out their offers. I heard numbers go up by the second but after twenty bids the girl had been bought.
Finally, or rather, unfortunately, my time had arrived. Right after the girl with the black dress had been bought I was pushed to the red square. I turned my head behind to see who was behind me, but to my surprise saw nobody at all, which meant I was the special of the day. I closed my eyes, straightened my back and remembered all my father had taught me during etiquette class for noblewoman. I straightened my back, held my hands in front of me and took three deep breaths that proceeded to end after the countdown started.
3…
2…
1…
Immediately I was elevated to the great stage. The first thing that struck me was the blinding white light that destroyed my eyes and forced me to squint. The second thing I noticed was the massive applause that I was received with on behalf of the nobles and the third thing was the master, standing behind a podium with a set of hovering spheres that functioned like microphones over his head. E had a huge plastic smile on his pulled face and waved to the audience. I looked at the nobles with my hazel eyes and suddenly gasped. Those devils dressed in gold were horrible. They had eyes crueler than Lucifer’s plastered on their operated faces and had shining intents of predatory mischievousness that screamed their intent. I was a pretty face to be sold to the highest bidder and my dress made nothing to calm down the nobles. The master proceeded to smile again at the crowd yet this time he looked serious.
“Now let the highlight of the night come out on stage. Today I, Fredric Von Braum present to you the eldest daughter of King Charles Von Agron Valerius, the former crown princess of the Kingdom of Narsundia, the Grandmaster of the Holy Order of the Valkyries, the Archangel of Margrace, Juliana Von Kronen Valerius!” Declared the master, who revealed his name to be Fredric to the crowd before announcing who I was. Yes I was a warrior and yes I was the daughter of my father but I was by no means a silly haired fridge damsel-in-distress princess. I wanted to grimace at the crowd but I decided it was best to keep calm.
“This gorgeous Venus is a warrior said to rival those uncivilized Legates of Regnum in the field of battle and, mind you all, is a beauty without compare! We are truly blessed by God with this most august presentation of sheer perfection! Bidding starts at 100,000,000 imperial pounds!” said Fredric as he slammed his gavel down and began the bidding process.
“150,000,000!” Screamed a woman who raised a card with the number one hundred and ten on it.
“160,000,000!” screamed another noble!
“300,000,000! Screamed yet another noble!
And then out of the riot of numbers and shouts, came out a single number that made sure to crush all other numbers.
“1,000,000,000 imperial pounds!”
With that, all nobles inside the vast room stopped bidding and placed their numbers down. I myself was caught in a state of utter shock. Even Fredric himself was agape after hearing the number. After the nobles calmed and sat down on there seats the bidder was finally revealed. The noble in question revealed himself to be an elderly man well passed his prime with pale skin and a thin, almost skeletal figure. That man had faded blue eyes that weren’t filled with lust or held intrigue in battle but possessed some sort of aura that I could not explain. He had a firm face with a number of wrinkles yet somehow, looked relatively younger than I thought him to be. He was dressed in a blue greatcoat with large ruffled sleeves, a red waistcoat, blue trousers and black leather shoes. His outfit was dusted with gold all over and a large white cravat was fastened to his neck. His white hair was combed backwards and he wore a diamond broche on top of his cravat. He wasn’t powerfully built, nor was he particularly good-looking for a man of his age, but it seemed as though his very presence demanded attention. He must have been one of the more important nobles. A much younger woman who I believed was his daughter since she had the same faded blue eyes that the noble held accompanied him and hair as golden as the coins she probably spent in order to dress herself up with. She was dressed in a platinum gown with golden accessories and a large red ruby the size of a chestnut on her finger. She also fanned herself with what I believed was an ostrich-feathered fan and styled her hair in a way medieval women did. She had a smug face that she partially covered with her hand, hiding the smirk her rouge lipstick held, whle her father’s outstretched hand powerfully extended forward as if to pull me away from the stage and into his side immediately.
“1,000,000,000 imperial pounds going one, going twice, sold! Congratulations Maxilimilian Von Vergoldet, Imperial Viceroy of Narsundia!”
and just like that, without saying a single word, I became the slave of the most powerful man in this portion of the Grand Aestian Empire.
