Whitesnake Blues [Verena Lorak]

[Vice]

86th of Autumn, 514

Deception.

The rumour mill had run amok as the wave of murders and deaths washed upon the ears of the Kenashian elite. And while no Dynasty was completely immune to the libelous words of Ava Malana, the truth screamed louder than anything else. A truly well-written and sourced article had been published in the Gazette on the 81st, word only truly setting in after a few days, but by the 85th, Whitesnake Estate was rife with pressure from both within and without. And all eyes were upon her.

Yvenna Lorak.

Ordinarily, engaging in an affair with a slave was not a big deal. The Konrath regularly had slaves that were used and even taken in as wives. The Zulaca rose slaves from their stations and into the mark of their banner. And if anyone listened to the words of Glen Radacke, they would know that each Dynasty had at least five members who contributed to the perpetuation of the Caged Sun. In truth, it was likely a slight exaggeration to say five, but the numbers did not lie.

However, things were different with Yvenna Lorak.

For she was prominent. She was not one of the majority that lived their existences quietly profiting their families, all the while keeping to their normal socialite existence. Oh, no. Yvenna Lorak was the captain of the guard at Whitesnake plantation. And furthermore, she was a Lucy with blood ties to the Knighthood, which had visited the city earlier in the season.

There were too many red flags raising under Yvenna's reputation. She could no longer be attached to the Lorak name, a stain upon their pristine reputation. And so, she was brought before the family. Each member of the Lorak Dynasty gathered outside of the manor, a canopy set to cover the family from the admittedly waning sun of fading Autumn. It was a beautiful day in Kenash, though all of the Lorak Dynasty had chosen to wear black.

Zorane Lorak walked with his mother, the woman holding to his arm as she descended from Whitesnake, eyes following both of their movements as Lorana Lorak stared, cold and furious, waiting for them to reach her. The slave, the last piece that shattered the calm fantasy, was tied to the ground, surrounded by guards, each of whom bore a hefty, spiked club, Lorana deciding to wait for just a moment longer before words were to fill the void of silence.

[Verena Lorak]

“You will need to return to the plantation now, Lady Verena,” Luca Ranolus said as soon as the healer exited the clinic. The guard had always thought that the young Lorak looked too delicate and young to work in such a daunting career. He had seen her grow ever since she was a little girl with curious eyes and he could not help pitying her for what she would face after this.

“Why?” she asked. Verena was in the middle of stitching a wound sustained by a Freeborn traveler when Hallan had interrupted her and announced that one of her guards had arrived, demanding to see her right away. It was a distraction and she hated distractions.

He clenched his jaw before answering, “There’s trouble in Whitesnake. It is essential for you to be there. The whole family had already gathered.”

“What sort of trouble?” If there was anything happening in the Lorak estate, Verena would not know. She had been spending the past week in her clinic, preferring the company of her patients rather than her family. Winter was closing in and that means so was Lorana’s plan to marry her off by the end of the year. The thought had crowded her head so much that the healer had dove into her work to stop it. If she stayed at home, she would not be able to stop thinking about it. “What is happening that is so important? There is still a patient inside needing care and I cannot simply leave her for a meeting.”

Luca had expected these questions from the lady, but he did not want to be the one telling her about everything. “I assure you, milady, it is of utmost importance. I would not have to personally escort you otherwise. Magistrate Lorana herself had demanded for your attendance.

”When it was Lorana who insisted on anything, she knew there was little space left for debating, especially when she held the title Magistrate. Verena shifted her footing. “I shall take my things first.”

“There would be no need,” the guard interrupted. “We have to make haste, milady.”

Left with no choice, Verena called for Taloe, explaining that she had to go and that the Konti would have to finish things up. Usually, the slave would have Hallan to assist her – but he was currently at the plantation – and Bella would have to be enough. The patient was at least not in any danger of death.

Verena followed Luca, still asking her questions but the guard merely replied that she would understand once she arrived. Reluctantly, she climbed into the carriage.

It was a short ride, but the time felt abnormally long. As they got closer to the plantation, her heart was pounding louder and louder in anticipation.

She pushed away the curtains and peered outside as they finally approached the towering structure of her home. A large canopy was erected and she could not think of a reason why what seemed like all of her family members would gather under it, clad in black clothing.

Then, she laid eyes on Zorane and her mother walking towards the crowd, their faces grim. They, too, were covered with black clothing. Had someone died? Someone important? But certainly if something like that happened Luca would have just told her. Why would he keep it away from her? As if he had sensed her presence, Zorane turned to look at Verena’s incoming carriage. Even across the distance, their eyes met.

Verena could not explain why exactly she decided to leap out of the carriage and run toward her family. It made no clear sense. No one seemed to be in any hurry and even if she had walked, she would still be able to reach them without any trouble. Not mention it was slightly dangerous, even if the transport was moving at a slow pace.

But maybe, even if her mind was oblivious, her heart was not. Something awful was about to happen. Something to do with her family.

Once she reached the pair, Yvenna turned and smiled weakly at her daughter. “At least I have the chance to see both of you for the last time.”

“The last time? What are you talking about, mother? Zorane?”

Zorane merely shook his head, giving her a bitter smile. “Apparently what we call justice.” He straightened and looked away from her, focusing on the crowd in front of them. No one was answering any of her questions. Every eye turned toward the small family that had finally entered the shade of the tent. They never belonged the way the others did and it was clear now. Yvenna was too foreign, Zorane too vocal and Verena too odd. The Lorak never truly accepted them, it would seem. 

The healer suddenly noticed that she was the only one not dressed in black. She was still in her clinic attire, a deep blue dress with white sleeves. The blood stains left after her treatment earlier seemed more pronounced here. 

Then she saw a slave, chained to the ground and surrounded by men with gruesome weapons. Verena gritted her teeth. It was an execution. A planned murder of a human being. Lorana stood in the center of all of it. Why would she do this? And brought everyone along to watch? The Lorak was one of the more decent families, but what was this?

When they finally stood in front the Head, Yvenna and Zorane stopped. They looked strikingly alike, their eyes fierce and their posture erect. Lorana stared at them coldly, her fury blazing from her ever-changing eyes. Verena stood on Yvenna's other side. 

A lone blue in a sea of black. 

[Vice]

There was no room for decency when survival was on the line. Already, in the past few seasons, the Lorak had been hit many a time by the Rujaro, chastised by their fellows at times. However, when the mantle of Magistrate was upon Lorana's shoulders, it magnified all the more. What kind of Magistrate is this woman? Where will she take Kenash? Questions that echoed as whispers yet louder than a trumpet's blast. Whispered within earshot of each and every family member. How could a family of medics be counted upon to lead? There was scrutiny and now, the time for decency was over. To be as vicious as they were in exchange with their inferiors was how the Lorak family would survive. And Lorana knew this best of all.

Advantages were strewn about in favour of many of the other families, alliances formed and blood rising to fuel the slave ranks of one of the monstrous races. The Magistrate's hands trembled lightly in the fear of what must be done in order to prove her Dynasty capable of ruling with the rest. Yvenna Lorak smiled at her children one last time, offering them both a hug and kiss on the forehead. A last, tender embrace before she brushed past them and moved towards the Magistrate, pity in her eyes as she looked over the slave she had an affair with.

"What will happen to him?" she asked, concerned.

Lorana pursed her lips in thought, looking to the spiked clubs belonging to the mercenaries for a moment before a smirk materialized upon her features.

"As a last gesture of mercy, dear sister, I will not ask you to watch your lover die. Instead,"

The Magistrate gestured to a nearby guard, the man stepping forward as Lorana whispered a few words to him. Nodding, the man walked to Yvenna and offered her his weapon, a fine steel blade.

"You will kill him. And then, you will leave. Take nothing with you, Yvenna."

Lorana's elder 'sister' glared at her for a moment before accepting the blade. Several moments passed in thought. It would be a full chime before the blade arced and was brought down, piercing through the slave's heart as a pained cry escaped both the slave's and Yvenna's lips. Pulling the blade out, blood pooled upon the floor, staining the slave's back as it pumped from both sides of its body. The body would shake and several of the Loraks would look away from the wound, mortified as their vows to Rak'keli coursed revulsion through them.

The family would disperse, Yvenna escorted by two guards to a carriage as the rest of the Dynasty re-entered Whitesnake. Lorana remained behind and instead approached both Verena and Zorane,

"You two will be coming with me. I have words for you."

The woman made sure to catch Yvenna's gaze one last time before waiting for both of the Loraks to follow her.

[Verena Lorak]

The Lorak had witnessed something similar to this event before. A banishment, she realized. A person being kicked out of the family. Why was this happening? What had her mother done wrong to be disinherited by the Loraks?

“As a last gesture of mercy, dear sister, I will not ask you to watch your lover die. Instead, you will kill him. And then, you will leave. Take nothing with you, Yvenna,” Lorana said easily. The healer wondered at how easy it was for the Head to order someone to murder another. How could she disrespect someone’s life so much?

Verena’s mouth shaped the word no, but there was only silence escaping her lips.

Now that she was paying a closer attention, Verena realized she recognized the slave’s striking features. She had seen him around her mother before and once slipping into Yvenna’s bedroom in the middle of the night when she was heading down to the library.

She stepped forward, wanting to interfere. Wanting to help. Wanting to do something.

However, Zorane reacted quicker. He had already expected his sister to do something rash when someone in pain was involved. They could not risk attracting more attention, lest Lorana decided to turn her fury on Yvenna’s two children. His arms went around Verena’s waist, keeping her in place. Sometimes, he wished that Verena could understand situations like this. Every twitch they made was being watched and they could not afford to slip.

Everything was happening so slowly in Verena’s line of vision. She could see the hesitance on her mother’s face as she lifted the sword in an experienced gesture. She noted the widening of the slave’s eyes and the paling of his skin as he realized his end was very near. She glimpsed Lorana’s satisfied smirk as she witnessed the execution.

“Don’t look,” Verena could hear Zorane say.

As the blade sunk into the man’s skin, she turned away, burying her face on her brother’s chest. His arm went around her protectively, but even he could not shield her from the excruciating sounds of pain escaping from the slave’s lips. His scream reverberated through her bones, a mark of another living she had failed to save. Another being she watched die as she stood. Even though she was not looking, Verena could imagine the red blood gushing through the deadly wound, the life Rak’keli so cared for gone to waste.

“Not your fault, alright, Ver?” her older brother whispered. “There is nothing you can do to help him. Nothing.” That was not true. Truly false. There was always something she could do.

Lorana then turned toward the siblings who were still watching their mother go. Zorane’s eyes hardened as he realized that they were being watched, while Verena’s face remained impassive, though that a highly observant person might notice that she looked slightly disgruntled. “You two will be coming with me. I have words for you.”

After a tense chime, Zorane finally urged his sister to move.

[Verena Lorak]

OOCPermission to self-mod Head of House Lorana Lorak granted by Goss

Lorana strode toward the family room without hesitance, her back erect with pride and maybe anger. The Head of House was nowhere near pleased and Yvenna’s children were graced with the worst luck for they would suffer her mood. Luca Ranolus, their head guard, approached Lorana and she whispered something to him before dismissing him. All this was clear to Zorane, his eyes as observing as ever, but he feared that his sister did not possess the same ability. The rest of the family who was still hanging around the main hall went silent as the trio passed, their curious eyes following them. No doubt they would start talking once they were out of earshot.

The healer was still quiet on her brother’s side. She let her head fall, staring at the colorful marble floor below. Getting the image of blood out of her mind was never an easy task. No, she was not scared of the scarlet fluid. She had probably seen more blood a lot more than any Dynasty lady should - which was not at all. Verena had seen violence before too. It was not so rare in a city full of slaves and swamps inhibited by rebels. But to see her own mother do something so cruel, to a man she obviously cared for, left a bad taste in her mouth and a sickening feeling in her stomach.

Zorane squeezed her arm reassuringly and whispered, “We should be careful.” Even as he said it, he could already feel the anger threatening to burst his skull. He could not do anything as his own mother was tossed out with no clear mistake. Banishment is fitting for those who betrayed the family and Yvenna did not such thing. He could clearly see the power play, the statement Lorana was trying to get across. But he had to be more level-headed. Verena was not one to rein her words or even aware what effects her words might have and it was up to him to cover her. At least, if he didn’t decide to punch something first.

As soon as they stepped into the library, a slave slammed doors shut behind them. The fireplace was already stocked with firewood, flames dancing to a silent song. This, between the old papers and wooden bookcases, was Verena’s sanctuary – but not today. It offered her no consolation for what just happened. Finally, the half-Vantha looked up, meeting Lorana’s blazing eyes coolly. “What do you want, Lor?” As usual, Verena’s disregard for social niceties was startlingly present in her manners and it simply fueled the Head’s fury.

The woman whirled to face Verena, placing her hand on the back of a chair. “Do you know why your mother is banished, my dears?” Lorana asked back, as if Verena had never opened her mouth at all. There was not a single hint of remorse, of compassion, in the Vantha’s words. On other occasions, the trio were supposedly siblings, all sharing Calamur Lorak’s blood. But it was no time for familial love. Lorana was Head first and sister later. “Verena?”

“No, I do not. I was summoned here at the very last moment.”

Lorana rose one perfectly arched eyebrow. Even if her face was a mask of calm, her eyes did not lie. “What about you, Zorane?”

“I suppose,” the blonde-haired young man started slowly, his insolence faintly masked by innocence, “because she is dallying in a casual rut with a slave, is it?” Typically, Zorane would have been smarter with his mouth. Unfortunately, the stress was pushing common sense into the back of his head.

Such a reaction was not unexpected to Lorana. However, it did annoy her to think that any other member of their family would not be so discourteous about it as these two were. The only difference between them and her was a status.

To make it worse, these two siblings presented a minor, but growing threat to Lorana. Zorane was far too charming, gaining favors wherever he went. Verena was quickly developing into a better healer than even her. Both were hard to keep on a leash. They were a lot younger than her and it was not unthinkable that one day people were to think that Lorana should be replaced. Fortunately, they were, as some say it, half-bloods. Calamur’s children from a Syliran knight. It didn’t matter that he took Yvenna as a wife. She was an outsider, so it meant they were outsiders.

Not as easily accepted as anyone else. Still, he had to make sure such ideas never entered her brother’s and sister’s minds.

“Certainly you are more intelligent than that, Zorane,” Lorana replied mockingly. “I am sure you have other ideas.”

“You cannot possibly banish her because she engaged in a sexual activity with a slave. Everyone does that, even you, Lor,” Verena interjected. She was getting impatient. She did not care for this stalled conversation. “What is it you want to say to us?”

The Head of the Loraks smirked. “Alright, I suppose I have to lay it out for you two.” She took a step closer to the pair. “Your mother’s actions raise questions and rumors about this family. She was a one of the self-righteous Syliran knights. She was my father’s second wife. And we all know that she cheated with our lovely Uncle Doromer. She’s a liability and she was cut off.”

“And you sent her off to fend for herself,” said Zorane bitterly. “After everything she had done for this petching family.”

“And your sister here,” Lorana nodded at Verena, “is becoming a liability too.”

That made Zorane froze. Verena could feel her brother stiffening, even when she herself gave no reaction whatsoever. It was not a shock for her. She knew that she never did quite fit a perfect mold Lorana would expect from a Lorak. This had been mentioned to her time and time again.

Lorana knew this had caught the siblings off guard – just exactly what she wanted. “Don’t look so surprised, Zorane. You know better than anyone else that Verena stirs even more rumors than anyone here.”

Verena’s violet eyes flicked with annoyance. “What does it matter?”

“Do you know that people are starting to think that you are Doromer’s child instead of father’s? I can’t say I blame them, apparently you both share Rak’keli’s favor and an astounding talent for driving people away.”

Honestly, Verena had no idea where Lorana was going with this. “The rumor had always been around. You never bothered with it before.”

“True, but recently, an even more astounding rumor had sprung about you and I am afraid, it’s just a little bit more controversial.” Lorana nodded to the man who had been standing guard inside the library.

Verena turned her head back just as the guard exited. What was happening? The answer to her question was swift. The doors suddenly swung open widely and the sight of the person entering made her stomach drop. Rak’keli, no.

[Verena Lorak]

The sight of Hallan shoved into the room on his knees, with two guards flanking him and holding him down was far too similar to the execution she had witnessed merely chimes ago. The blood, the swing of the sword, the scream. A shiver ran down her spine as her gnosis sent waves of discomfort. For a brief moment, Hallan’s eyes held hers, just before he glanced down submissively. She didn’t know why, but it eased her worry the slightest bit. The guards then stepped aside, letting Hallan stay in the center of the room with the Loraks.

Verena could not help but immediately checking the slave for injuries. There were no visible bruises or wounds, but it did not entirely stop her from worrying.

“What does my slave have to do with any of this?” asked Verena. Zorane, on the other hand, knew exactly where the course of this conversation was going. He could only pray that his sister could handle this well.

Lorana started circling around the kneeling slave, though her eyes never left her half-sister. “Speculations are circling, Verena. You, you have been so cold to Cassius Paille, your own betrothed. Yet, your slave acts as your shadow. He spent bells in your chambers and no one is aware of what you two are doing while inside.” She ran a perfectly manicured finger across Hallan’s shoulder. Even Verena could tell there was something distinctly threatening about the gesture.

Immediately, Verena regretted all those times she had spent practicing her auristics with Hallan’s hypnotism. She could not bring that up without hinting at the slave’s magic. If they knew what he could do, there was nothing the Lorak could do to protect him, especially when Lorana was furious like this.

“And he is very handsome,” Lorana said sharply as she slipped her hand under the slave’s chin, forcing him to look up. Hallan looked away in response, avoiding the Vantha’s furious gaze. “I should have known letting you keep him was a mistake. I thought it might awaken your humanity, but it seems he awakens a lot more than that. Maybe I can torture the truth out of him.”

The threat pulled a string inside Verena. A string that had been taut enough after her mother’s sudden banishment. “No, you can’t. He is my slave.”

Slowly, Lorana turned to her. “I am the head of our household! You better watch your tongue, Verena.” She let Hallan’s head drop again, taking a step back away. The distance gave Verena a small peace. “Or maybe I can do it on you, instead, sister. I doubt you can hold on from the pain longer than this slave can.”

All her life, Verena had been scolded and chastised by her older sister, but never threatened. Her heart started to race as something primal inside her mind detected the weight of Lorana’s word. Suddenly, she imagined herself being dragged away and whipped, as she had witnessed done to many slaves while she did nothing. Maybe this was Rak’keli’s punishment for her, for not stopping such pain being inflicted on another when she could.

Hallan’s head snapped up. “No, milady. I am willing to take any punishment I deserve, but I swear Lady Verena is not guilty of anything.”

The older Vantha laughed bitterly. “Like mother, like daughter, aren’t you?”

The healer couldn’t tear her eyes from Hallan. An irrational thought had taken root in her mind – that if she looked away, he would get hurt. “I was not sleeping with him.” Verena could not think of a way to get him out of this. She glanced at her brother, pleading for him to help her.

Zorane finally interceded. “Lorana, be reasonable. We both know Verena. She won’t do such a thing, can’t even. It is obvious enough that the slave cared for her, but it does not mean our sister responded to his feelings.”

“The slave seems determined to protect her,” the Head pointed out lightly.

“He owes his life to me. Of course he is.”

It seemed a logical enough answer that Lorana pressed her lips together in annoyance. The woman ran her hand across her skirt, as if smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle. “Whip him.”

“How many, milady?”

“As many as he can take.” At the sentence, Hallan flinched, but he kept his eyes downward.

Verena straightened, her hands clenched into fists. She could not let Lorana hurt more people. It didn’t matter whether it was a slave or a Dynasty. She was getting sick of this. This was not right. A slave’s life seemed to have no weight in Lorana’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? We claim to carry Rak’keli’s grace, yet all we do is hurt people.”

“Do you think I take pleasure in this?” Lorana snapped. How could her sister not understand that this was necessary? Eyes were watching their every move – Verena more than everyone because she regularly visited the city. There were too many stories filling Kenashians’ minds that might cause doubts for the Loraks. Two of their members were said to be mad, another had been rumored to have killed her own twin. Lorana was afraid that such things may be eternally branded on their reputation. She turned to the guards. “Take him.”

Zorane’s hand was suddenly wrapped around Verena’s arm, tightening in warning. He turned to look into her eyes and shook his head. She could tell that he was telling her to do nothing to infuriate their Head. Verena didn’t know how she could understand him so easily, when everyone else was just so confusing.

“Don’t,” her brother whispered so softly, so that only she could hear it. “You are just going to make things worse for him.”

And so, the healer clenched her shaking hand as she watched her guards drag Hallan out. She knew that her brother was right. She might be insensitive, but she was no fool. The Lorak had lived with Lorana or her life and she knew what would set the Head off. Or at least, Zorane had made sure that she was aware of it, constantly reminding her. Their sister was not cruel, but she could be if she wanted to.

“Now,” Lorana continued, face tight with anger. “We still have some more things to discuss.”

[Verena Lorak]

“As you know, your betrothal with Cassius Paille have been dragged out far too long,” Lorana started as she slid into one of the plush armchairs, placing her elbow on the armrest and gesturing at them.

Zorane, who was still holding Verena’s arm, guided her forward. He knew his sister would be too preoccupied to think straight. As cold and indifferent the young woman looked, he knew better than anyone how fragile her sister was, tethering between her role as a healer and her status as a Dynast. This season had been particularly rough on her. He wondered if that was Lor’s plan all along, to shake their sister’s mind so badly before delivering more ultimatum. If it was, she had done the right things.

Verena gave a last glance at the door before sitting across her older sister. She could already see it inside her head. Hallan tied down, crying out as sharp lashes raked the skin of his back. The blood. Her brother gave her arm another, breaking the image inside her head. It was no use imagining what was happening at the moment. She would have to finish this talk with Lorana swiftly, so she could end her slave’s torture as soon as possible.

This is all your fault. He is your responsibility and you let him get hurt.

“With everything that is happening, we need to quickly secure alliances between our family and the Paille’s. We have nurtured quite a pleasant relationship between us, but with still need something more substantial to show the other Dynasties. Steven and I have talked about this. In fact, we have had plans to have your wedding by winter.” The healer stiffened at this. It wasn’t news, she knew this. “However, with your mother’s banishment, I suppose it is only logical to give you more time to cope, to . . . settle in your relationship. How is Cassius?”

“Fine,” the younger Lorak replied briskly, yet feeling the relief swell inside her chest. The talk about marriages had always made her uncomfortable, despite the fact that she knew it was unavoidable. After years, Verena had to admit that she had been getting used to having the Paille slipped between her routine. He gave her considerable space, never forcing her to do anything she did not want.

“I hear you are still refusing his advances,” the Head said mildly, though her piercing eyes drilled into her. “And instead, you started lessons with Caedmon for swordplay. Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him?”

Verena finally met Lorana’s gaze, thankful that her sister’s eyes betrayed the emotions she couldn’t understand by herself. “You told me to end my romance with him and I did. That does not mean I cannot ask him to train me in something he is skilled at.”

Lorana did not seem to have heard her words. “Cassius has no idea even until now, does he? That you slept with his brother? It seems like you and Caedmon pulled off quite a deception.”

“What are you trying to say, Lor?” Zorane interrupted, giving Verena a brief glance.

“I simply want to remind our sister of her duties and her own betrothal. From what I can see, Cassius has started to grow fond of her, maybe even affectionate and I am sure Verena does not want to do anything to break his heart.”

Affectionate? Cas? She did not notice such thing, not that she could. His behavior to her had not changed significantly. He spent more time with her, yes, but did that mean he was giving her more affection? Matters of the heart were always confusing. Maybe she could ask him later.

Lorana continued when her sister did not respond, “You will be allowed to continue your little lessons, but one of guards will always be present too. Just to make sure there are no . . . accidents.”

It was an acceptable request, at least.

Despite her recent actions, Verena had always known Lorana as a reasonable person. She remembered sitting in the library with her when she was younger. The older Lorak told her the story of their family, how they came to rise between the wealthy Dynasties and secure their position. Lorana had changed ever since the responsibility of being the head of the family was placed on her shoulders, but Verena hoped she still meant well.

After the silence stretched long enough, Verena could no longer hold her mouth. “Is this conversation over?”

“It is for you. You may go. Do expect another talk with me about your wedding.”

Wasting no time, Verena stood from her chair and headed straight toward the doors. Her steps were quick and her heart was punding. She would have to get to Hallan as soon as she could. Their guards would not stop whipping him until someone gave the order or until her slave was unconscious. She could not let that happen.

“You are going straight for your slave, are you not?”

Lorana’s words made her pause, but she did not turn back. “Yes.”

“Bear in your mind one thing, Verena. I have allowed you a mostly free reign of your life here. Despite people’s discomfort of your treatment – your fondness – of slaves, I have done nothing for I know that you have a responsibility to Rak’keli and I even try to make other understand. You have proven yourself to be skilled in healing and valuable to our family. However, if I hear a hint, even if it was just a passing rumor, that you had gotten yourself tangled with some other slave, I promise you our next conversation will be less pleasant. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sister.”

[Verena Lorak]

Once the door closed behind her, Verena hitched up her skirt and ran. Some of her family members still lingered in the main hall and their eyes followed her, trying to guess what the healer was doing and what things had been said to the Lorak siblings. All they cared about was useless and petty. They stood waiting, trying to get a whisper of gossip, not caring that a slave had been carted off and punished unfairly. Her slave.

The slave quarters were quite a distant away from their estate, closer to the fields. It was where they would have brought Hallan to hurt him, somewhere where no one could see. Where no one would hear him cry out. The thought sickened her, making the Lorak move faster. Her feet pounded against the lush grass, but every step she took was another one too late.

It took far too long for her to arrive at the quarters. Guards straightened at the sight of her breathing hard and sweating, more than a little surprised.

“Where is my slave? Show me to him now.”

As they led her, the young woman took the time to compose herself. She knew if she was not careful, her every gesture would be used against her – her talk with Lorana was enough to tell her that. Yet, she never knew what she was doing wrong until it was too late.

Once the door opened, Verena swallowed the thick lump inside her throat. They were still whipping him. No sound could escape her lips as she took in the sight in front of her. Hallan was chained to the ground, his head bowed down. His back was nearly unrecognizable, torn and ruined and covered in blood. With every whip, Hallan jerked, but he never made a sound. At least, he was still conscious.

“Stop right now!” the healer snapped as she surged forward. The guard had no choice but to do so as she came close enough for him to accidentally hit her.

Distraught, the Lorak knelt down, uncaring of the blood that would soil her dress. “Hallan, look at me!”

So slowly, the slave glanced up at her. Dried crusts of blood under his nose and at the corner of his lips told her that they had beaten him up before they started whipping him. His eyes were hazy, barely focusing on her. Beads of sweat slipped down his face as he winced. “Lady Verena?” he croaked, his voice hoarse.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered lowly, so that no one else could heAR. It would do no one good if they truly think that Hallan was her lover – even if it was untrue.

“My lady,” the Benshiran said weakly. “I will be fine.” And just like that, he fainted onto her lap.

Later, when people started talking, they would say that Lady Verena had treated the whole affair all too calmly. Something must be wrong with her, they said when she did not break at the side her supposed-lover whipped bloody. No, her mannerism barely changed. Verena commanded the guards blandly and efficiently, telling to bring the man to her clinic.

No one saw the way her hands clenched into fists, her manicured nails nearly breaking skin. Or the shudder that went through every inch of her. This, all this was sickening. A life seemed to mean nothing to all these people, not if it wasn’t their own.

I am one of them too. The ones who stood by and did nothing. Even now.

Every time she tried to help, to do something right, she ended up hurting someone else. Every. Damn. Time. Perhaps she should stop trying. Things had been this way in Kenash for decades. She was the girl who did not blend in, the one that caused too many trouble.

There was nothing she could do.

[Konrad Venger]

Nice job! Your work has pleased The Sloth! Verena XP: Medicine - 1 Observation - 3 Investigation - 2 Philosophy - 1 Socialization - 2 Negotiation - 1 Rhetoric - 1 Lore: The Lorak Dynasty: Special Occasions, Mandatory Attendance Yvenna: Resigned but Dignified Before Death Lorana Lorak: Cold and Furious The Dynasties: Slave Life is Not Real Life Seeing the Power Plays in a Dynasty Hallan: Suffering for My Sins Click Me! : Wow... I am SO glad I started grading in Kenash today! This was brilliantly executed, Verena. I loved how you thought through all the twisted politics of Kenash and put them to paper with such skill and SENSE, not getting tangled up in the webs as you went. You did a great job bringing everyone to life and packed in SO MUCH with comparatively little. Look forward to reading more of this, fan-TASTIC job! Oh, and please make sure you go back and edit your post in the Request Thread to reflect the fact this one is now done and dusted. PM me with any questions and later 'tater!