Completed A Necessary Purchase[Aran, Kaiphur]

[Aran Windblown]

89 Fall, 513AV

Aran walked through Endrykas, a frown on his face. This was uncharacteristic, even for him; normally his expression was simply neutral. However, he had reason to frown.

The Ankal of his Pavilion had put his foot down-- Aran needed to start producing offspring of his own. He needed to have kids. The Ankal had offered him two choices: Buy a slave, or marry. Aran, averse to marriage to someone he barely knew, had opted for the slave option. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he was essentially buying a broodmare.

As Aran approached the clearing where the slave sales were going on, he could hear the auctioneers calling out bids and asking for higher ones, some extolling the virtues of the next slave up on the block. Aran wove through the crowd, trying not to run into anyone. He eyed the slaves on every block, until eventually he reached the block all the way at the back-- this was the slaver who had just come in the day before with a new string of slaves.

"Hullo!" Aran called in Pavi, waving to the slaver. "What have you brought in, and so close to Winter?"

"New women for you men," the slaver said, grinning. He and Aran turned to the string, and Aran listened with half an ear as the slaver explained the different assets of each slave. His eyes caught on a red-haired girl near the back.

"Where did you find her?" he asked, pointing to the girl.

"Her? Idiot was wandering the Sea of Grass, claiming to be a guy named Kaiphur. Won't give any other name, but he's obviously a she. Bit spirited, tried to escape." Aran hummed thoughtfully and studied the slave. Spirit was never a bad thing.

[Kaiphur]

“Her…” “She…” “Claiming…” These words hurt more than the cuts the heavy metal chains had engraved around his wrists and ankles. Kaiphur tentatively glanced upwards as he heard the familiar harsh tongue. His tutor had taught him Pavi, and he could understand it to a degree. He regarded the Drykas carefully- tall, muscular. Everything Kaiphur wanted to be. He hadn’t meant to end up like this, in shackles. He wanted to start anew without any ties or trouble, but already things had become difficult when he’d been snatched up trying to scrape a living from the harsh environment surrounding the nomadic city of Endrykas. He had managed to keep the slaver’s questions at bay, for a while. But when it came to washing, Kaiphur had no option but to strip bare- he had been branded a “breeding girl” from that day onwards. He maintained eye contact with his potential buyer for a few seconds before grimacing. It was better to focus on the grass. It was easier to drown out the sales pitch when he could think of something different. A slave to be bought and sold- he needed a way out quickly. The slaver muttered a price and displayed a sheet of paper- a contract, perhaps? Kaiphur knew little of what to expect if he fell into the hands of a Drykas. He had read about them years ago – horselords, warriors, clansmen – but he had never experienced the true power and scale of one of these giants. He couldn’t fight off a man like that. He felt utterly exposed, but this situation had broken his numbness and elicited a feeling of frustration, of anger… of desperation. “How can you sell me to him?” He gasped, looking up. His bright green eyes met the slaver’s, but he ducked too late to avoid his captor’s heavy punch.

[Aran Windblown]

Aran and the slaver negotiated a price-- twenty-five gold mizas for the troublesome slave. Just before Aran was about to sign the papers, he heard the girl speak.

"How can you sell me to him?"

Obviously the girl was unused to the ways of the Cyphrus region; slavery was common. However, the girl's insolent remark-- although Aran hadn't found it insulting-- earned her a heavy punch. Not just a slap, but a punch.

"Hey!" Aran snarled, lunging forward to grab the offending fist in his own, bending the wrist back until the fragile joint creaked ominously. "You know how we Drykas value women-- You also know the consequences if I report you." He saw recognition flash in the man's eyes. Aran glanced over at the girl, who was now kneeling on the ground, her hands to her face. Aran almost saw red when he spotted a bit of blood. He returned his furious gaze to the slaver's face, now covered with terror.

"Please, I'll do anything, don't report me-- I didn't mean to..." Aran tuned out the idiot's babbling as he raised his other hand to slap it over the slaver's.

"Take another five gold mizas off of the price, and I won't report you-- this time," Aran said coolly, applying a little more pressure to the man's wrist. The slaver whimpered pitifully, nodding frantically. Aran released his wrist. "Rewrite the contract." Once the contract had been re-written, Aran signed it and handed over the twenty gold mizas. The slaver in turn handed him the key to his new slave's manacles, along with the deed of ownership. This Aran tucked into his bag before walking towards the slave and kneeling before here.

"Here," he murmured in Common tongue. "Let me get those off of you." As he unlocked the manacles, he felt anger rising in him again-- they were too rough for the girl's delicate wrists and ankles, which were rubbed raw, another hour's rubbing away from bleeding.

[Kaiphur]

Kaiphur kept his head down as he slipped his hands out of the tight shackles that had bound him for several weeks- rubbing his wrists, he backed away from the Drykas, his brows down and his stance wary. For several seconds he considered running, bolting as fast as he could… But the constant thread of people was too thick and there were guards on every corner. His small frame might have been able to snake through a few ambling people, but it would be pointless. The guards could overpower him in seconds. “So, you own me now.” He stated as calmly as he could muster. His fists were still clenched but he managed to look his new captor in the eyes. Kaiphur looked towards the slaver, his old master, and felt nothing but disgust. “I think we should get out of here. Just… please, get me out of here.” Kaiphur slowly walked away with his new owner. He was wary and guarded, but ultimately his shoulders still sagged and he kept his head down. He now constantly adopted this posture, a posture of submission and defeat. Unaware of what duty of care an owner had towards their slave, he kept quiet about the hunger pains within his stomach and wanted to focus on a more immediate problem. “Look, Drykas. I don’t know your name, I don’t know who you are but you need to understand one thing. That name on the contract – my name – is wrong. I’m not… Caitlin. If you offer me one small token of respect, I ask that you refer to me as Kaiphur.” He spoke slowly and methodically in Pavi... His understanding of the language quickly came back to him when he needed to establish a relationship quickly. He looked up at the towering man. “There are some things I need to clear up with you. Maybe you won’t listen, I guess I’m just a tool to you… But to me I’m still a human being and this whole experience has hurt me. All I ask is that you take me somewhere that we can speak freely and, uhm, in confidence.” Kaiphur felt the fear infiltrate his veins as he allowed his master time to consider. Had he overstepped the mark?

[Aran Windblown]

Aran watched his new slave consider running, and he nodded, pleased, when he saw the slave realize that she couldn't hope to escape in this crowd. He walked beside her, glancing at his slave curiously every so often. The slaver had had her for a couple of weeks, and she already looked-- broken. They left the slave market behind, and once they were back in the main part of Endrykas, that was when Kaiphur spoke.

Aran listened, and when she was done speaking, he recognized the fear in her eyes. He cautiously reached out a hand to lay it on her shoulder-- not holding her in place, more a gesture of comfort, though he usually wasn't very good with people. "My name is Aran Windblown-- you may call me Aran. The only name on the contract is Kaiphur; there is no mention of a Caitlin anywhere. As for you being just a tool, while I did purchase you for... breeding purposes--" here Aran winced "-- we Drykas treat our slaves very well. You will always be treated as human while among us. And if a Strider chooses you, you will become a full Drykas." He considered Kaiphur's last request for a moment, and then offered, "I can take you to Anyalvis, and if you wish, we can ride a little ways from Endrykas."

[Kaiphur]

Kaiphur sighed a little, relaxing. He allowed himself to loosen up. He still felt uncomfortable around a host of eyes, ears and gossiping mouths, but he could discard these feelings for the moment. “Thank you, Aran. You have no idea how much I needed this. I’d like to ride out a little.” Kaiphur liked horses. They were powerful and loyal, and had an inner strength that allowed them to carry you anywhere. They had a hint of the wilds in them still – whether it was the gleam in their glassy eyes or the rustic hues of their mane as catching the wind. Looking after the horses had been one of the only ways he could relax on the old estate where he had once lived. It had certainly taken his mind off of things. An animal had no one questioning what it was. Animals didn’t judge eachother. They relied on instinct. Kaiphur had felt an affinity with these creatures. It was instinct, not experience, that had told him who he truly was from his birth. It was the mind, the natural state, and not his body that factored into his being. The body could be changed… The mind could not. “I don’t wish to offend. I mean, already you seem like a decent man… And you say that the Drykas respect their slaves. I haven’t read up on it in a while, so I wouldn’t know. But that is comforting.” Kaiphur spoke quietly in Pavi, matter of factly. “However, understand that I might not be so keen on the idea. A few months ago, I was free. I hadn’t had the best time of it during my life, but atleast I had my liberty.” He couldn’t let his mind rest on the possibilities. He had to find a way of either escaping, or letting himself go somehow. “Lets go to Anyalvis. Or anywhere, really. We can talk, I can get to know my new… owner? And you can get to know the facts about me.” He sighed and looked away with slight embarrassment. “I may need to ask one thing of you though… I’ve looked after a horse, but never ridden one. You might just need to, uhm… Sling me over your back or sit behind you or something? I trust a Drykas knows more about riding a horse than most other man ever will.”

[Aran Windblown]

Aran listened intently to his slave; he didn't wish to treat her merely as a lesser person or, gods forbid, some sort of object just for his pleasure. Aran didn't know if she was telling the truth about being free before the slaver caught her, but he was inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt at the moment. When he realized she was talking about Anyalvis as if he were an actual location, he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "Anyalvis is my Strider," he explained at her confused look. "And it will not be the first time he has carried both myself and an inexperienced rider." They approached the Windblown family Pavilion, and Aran led Kaiphur around back; he had no wish to talk to his family before talking with Kaiphur. She seemed intent on telling him something important about herself-- perhaps she was infertile? Aran honestly was not sure what his reaction would be if that were the case, although it would fit in with his luck. Buy a slave to bear his children, and she was unable to bear children. Aran whistled, and a claybank stallion picked up his head, pricked his ears, and whinnied before trotting over. Aran grabbed the blanket and yvas, expertly tacking up the Strider before turning to Kaiphur. "You first," he said, giving her no opportunity to protest as he reached for her waist and picked her up, setting her on Anyalvis's back. Then he vaulted up behind her. "Hold on to the yvas handle," he instructed before urging Anyalvis straight into a canter, heading away from the main encampment, looking for a spot where he and Kaiphur could talk in private.

[Kaiphur]

Kaiphur had felt a pang of embarrassment at mistaking Aran’s horse for some kind of mysterious location. Whilst Anyalvis wasn’t some private place, he was strong, lean and fast – a true Drykas horse, moving at the lightest of touches. It was strange to actually be riding such a huge animal, and Kaiphur held on tightly as the city of tents flashed by him. The motion and the speed was slightly dizzying… He closed his eyes tightly as his untidy curls bounced in time to the beat of Anyalvis’ hooves. The horses back at the old manor had been small, sturdy creatures with stout bellies. They had none of the grace of this beast. Leaving the bustling market behind, Kaiphur noticed the frenetic buzz of voices, laughter and music fade behind him. He dared to open his eyes as the horse slowed down to a more comfortable pace. White tents sprouted up everywhere, and the grass here had not been quite scrubbed away by footfall and horsetracks- this part of town was definitely not so busy. It hinted at the nomadic nature of Endrykas, always travelling to pastures new with the change of the seasons. It gave the vegetation a chance to grow again, and a chance for old hunting grounds to replenish with the absence of the Drykas hunters. Kaiphur noticed a patch of undisturbed grass up ahead- the perfect spot. “Aran… Over there…” He raised a hand cautiously, trying to maintain his balance. The horse slowed to a gentle walk, and Kaiphur awkwardly slid himself down towards the safety of solid ground. “Okay. So I… hmmn.” He walked out into the meadow slightly, turning away. He had to be in the right frame of mind for this conversation, and he could already feel the stirrings of fear and anxiety rising through his body. “Aran.” He swallowed, slowly turning to face his captor. “I really don’t know how this will sit with you. You… acquired me for one purpose. I know I am not really in a position to question or, uhm, refute what this purpose is. But I turn to you, now, as a friend… God, I’ve only just met you. I don’t know how I can do this…” Kaiphur walked closer, desperation in his eyes. He had some awareness of Drykas culture. His condition was not common in the area surrounding Syliras, nevermind the passionate and hardened attitudes of the Drykas people. “Okay, right. I’ve already asked a lot of you, I know. But please just look at me and listen. I know that you Drykas can read people pretty easily, and you might have picked up on issues already. My soul, my mind… I was given the wrong body when I was born. Inside, I’ve felt different my whole life. My father has wanted me to be his precious daughter, his little Caitlin, and when I couldn’t be that… he sent me away. He abandoned his own child until I was ready to be who he wanted me to be. I couldn’t do it.” He looked into the Aran’s eyes, hoping he would understand. He found only a hint of sympathy. He wants a breeder, Kaiphur thought to himself. He’s not going to understand you. Get it over with. The voice inside his head found the worst and thrust them outwards. “I’m male. I’m a man. My name is Kaiphur, and I left home to be me.” The voice inside sighed. Now look where you are.

[Aran Windblown]

Aran found himself smiling at Kaiphur's white-knuckled grasp on the handle, and he was already enjoying the feeling of her body pressed against his. When Kaiphur pointed out a spot just beyond the last of the tents, Aran steered Anyalvis over, slowing the stallion to a walk and then a halt. He waited until his slave was on the ground and pacing away before he dismounted; he doubted the girl would go far, considering he was much taller than her and could easily outrun her.

Aran felt himself growing tense as Kaiphur seemed to hem and haw around what the actual issue was, and when she finally said it aloud-- "I'm male. I'm a man."-- Aran felt sure that she was lying. Looking at her-- his?-- posture, and the tight way she was holding herself, though, Aran was forced to conclude that she, at least, believed she was telling the truth.

Aran frowned in confusion. He had heard of people like this-- people who believed they were born in the wrong body-- but he had never put any stock in the stories. "You... believe you are a man?" he asked slowly. Well. This would put a damper on his plans to have children, if Kaiphur truly believed she was a he.

[Kaiphur]

The puzzled intonations in Aran’s voice failed to hint at any mockery, so perhaps that was a good thing. Yet, maybe he was just so astounded that those words had left his new slave’s mouth that he hadn’t been able to fully process it yet. “I know this is strange…” His voice shook slightly as he still hadn’t recovered from his confession. “I think it is too. You had to know, Aran. I would rather die than be paraded around as something I’m not. I couldn’t just stay quiet.” Perhaps it would have been better if he did. Kaiphur had felt the numbness before. He had allowed himself to be consumed by it, let the emptiness well up inside him until he had no need to care of worry anymore. He would simply do what was expected with no hint of emotion of personality. "Would it be better that way?" He asked himself. Would it be better if I had just let things happen? I’m already a slave. "Would it have been so terrible? It might be preferable to being hurt and disgusted by that way I am." These thoughts haunted him, as they had a year ago when he had previously relied on switching off his emotions for extended periods. Kaiphur’s small frame shuddered as a cold, biting wind blew across the meadow, unfurling the thick grass into peculiar and ungainly patterns. “I know this wasn't really in your contract, but you'd have realised sooner or later. The Drykas see what others miss. I tried to get away so I could start over again. That slaver… he captured me. I tried to tell him I was a free man, but he saw me as an easy target and got some of the stronger slaves to hold me down and shackle me. I’ve been imprisoned my whole life in one way or another- my body, my father, my schooling… a slave cart was just my old life in a new form. I wanted to be myself- I still do! I didn’t ask for any of this to happen.” He lowered himself into a seating position infront of the Drykas, his hands absent mindedly picking at the soft shoots of grass and shredding them into smaller slits. “I know you probably haven’t come across this before. Neither have I. But I assure you, I’m not lying. I’m telling the truth. I just need your help.” Opening up like this seemed to slice open old wounds and scars that had been sewn shut for a while- they always hurt, always tingled just a little bit, but by padding them up and tucking them away Kaiphur could fool himself into thinking they weren’t so severe. He felt the pain, raw and angry, building up inside him again. The scars never got a chance to heal. He told himself he wouldn’t cry.