Chapter Two: Loreliz
A dim torch welcomed her awakening…
Morven noticed that she’s not alone in the chamber she was unfamiliar in to, all she knew was she was feeling a bit daze. But knowing she has companions in sight gave her a painfully sympathetic yet relief of reassurance that all of them are in the same nightmare. She looked further ahead and found another disturbing reality in her line of sight. They were even confined inside the wall of thick cross bars that made it even harder for any escape route. Beyond the bars were men, large enough to break a bone or two who are on guard of the captured ladies. Her sight returned to the women surrounding her, all sitting on the floor weeping, staring, and confused. All were fragile.
Then her eyes narrowed down looking at her wrist finding that there were cold rusty shackles locked on both of them. For a moment she was stunned. For a noble to receive this kind of treatment from strangers, Morven had no clue whether she would scream in fear nor get angry of what was happening to her. The last memory she could remind herself was playing instruments one by one to entertain her guests, until… it darkened. Followed by the deafening screams and panic inside the ball from everyone, gunshots next to it were the sound of people falling into the ground with a thud groaning in pain. It was a horrible night. If the lights would’ve been there she must’ve puked in the sight of probable death count. Just hearing is more than enough to send fear to her together with the smell of rusty, crimson blood flowing down in each and every man who attended her day of birth, she could’ve cried and begged for it to stop.
She moved a little with the shackles clinging from her wrists and ankles. Moving her body sideward to face the closest prisoner beside her. The woman seemed to be acting normal and composed rather than doing a panic and whine. For a moment she was staring at her, until the woman gave a turn and met her eyes. “What is it?” she asked impatiently.
Morven blinked twice before speaking. Probably contemplating whether to continue her thoughts or not. But she decided to go on. “W-where are we?” she asked unsure if the question was something the woman could answer back.
“We’re in Loreliz.” The woman replied.
“Loreliz?” Morven wondered.
“It’s a pirate ship for auctioning merchandise.” She plainly replied.
“What kind of merchandise is that?”
For a moment, Morven was silent again. They were the merchandise. What was happening there?
“If you’re lucky enough to be bought by someone who is not an animal, you’ll stay as innocent and saint as you are today. But if you ended up running into a stupid monkey, I guess you won’t last a day or two.”
“This is insane. Why are we here? This isn’t right.” Morven held her forehead, sliding it up to brush her locks above her forehead. “What’s going on?”
“You’re one of the nobles too aren’t you?” the woman asked. “I’m surprised that you can manage to stay calm like that rather than these women who kept on weeping like lost children.”
Morven stared at her. “How long have you been here?” she asked seriously.
“Two months now.” The woman replied. “I’m Brenda.”
“I’m Morven. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You needn’t have to say that. We’re not going to meet again anyway. Once you’re bought, you’ll never see me. So forget my name and worry about your life instead.” Brenda had a tone of warning. The first time Morven have heard her tone, she already knew how dangerous this departure will become of.
They heard the sounds of tapping footsteps out in the mysterious door. It made all the women turned to that particular direction where the sound had come from. Until a man appeared, dressed into such heavy attire. The people who are guarding the chamber stepped aside to make way for him addressing him as captain before moving out of the opening. He was in his thirties, beard beginning to grow longer in years that reached half his neck. Morven could feel her nerves getting untamed. She began to feel the fear hidden within her the moment the man had appeared.
He was serious. Eyes became colder in years of experiences that she knows nothing of. And those eyes met hers, gazing straight down to her observing eyes. And with those cold locks, his lips curved up into a smirk pointing towards her as the men with him moved forward to her, grabbing both arms and began to drag her towards the man whom had pointed his finger in her direction.