Chapter 200: Stars that Vanish in the Dawn

Three months passed. What had once seemed to be light and easy servitude, with food and rest aplenty, was laden with darkness. After that fateful day, Aurle was returned to us, and I learned such occurrences were common. Every few days, Lord Byron personally visited the Slave Chambers and selected a girl to accompany him for the day. They were returned early the next morning, covered in bruises and weeping.

But after I refused him, the pattern changed. Instead of carefully selecting his slave, he came straightway to my cage and asked politely for me to offer myself to him. And each time when I refused, he would simply smile and nod, choosing instead whatever slave had recently treated me well, or even just spoken to me. They would taken away, and I would receive my beating, leaving me bloody and sobbing, unable to perform my duties for the rest of the day.

“Hey, Starlight,” Aurle said, looking at me through the bars, “Want to partner with me today?”

I stared at her for a moment before nodding. More often than not, she was that slave. I had pled with her to stop, to get some distance from me, but she ignored it all with a smile. No matter how bruised or bloody she returned each morning, she greeted me warmly and hugged me the moment I was free of the cage. Why couldn’t she just hate me? Then she wouldn’t have to suffer with me, and I wouldn’t feel this awful guilt and responsibility.

The other slaves took the opposite approach, distancing themself from me. Whenever the butler or a guard was nearby, they were certain to be cold and cruel, often harassing or hurting me to prove their hatred. I could see the guilt in their eyes whenever they struck me, but I couldn’t blame their actions. It meant they would be safe from Lord Byron’s ire.

Their whispers and gossip surrounded me day in and out, repeating the sentiment the Butler had conveyed. It was my fate to break, so why must I fight it? Why condemn the rest of them to pain and agony? In their eyes, the end was written. Lord Byron had broken countless strong wills, reducing them to puppets in his hand and bed. The longer I resisted, the more pain I and others would suffer.

As I dressed with Aurle for another week as a maid, I couldn’t help but sigh. In my heart, I knew I was close. Every time Aurle was returned, she was more battered and bruised, sometimes bearing wounds that took until Master’s next visit to heal. She refused to speak of what he did to her, as all the slaves did, but it wasn’t hard to imagine.

The cleaning was light today, and we found ourselves relaxing in one of the empty reception rooms, gaining a brief moment of reprieve from the day’s labors.

“Hey Starlight, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say where you’re from,” Aurle said, glancing at me with a curious smile.

I paused, weighing her question carefully. Lord Byron had already revealed I was a hero, but the rumors around that had died shortly after. If I were to reignite the interest, word might leak beyond the slaves to the world outside this mansion. If they gained enough traction, Lord Byron would be forced to take action and kill me, upholding his end of the bargain with the church.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said, gripping my skirt tightly. “I can’t say. It’ll only hurt you more.”

She sighed long and hard, her ears drooping. “Starlight, why won’t you understand? We’re sisters remember? You haven’t made me suffer a moment, I’ve chosen it all myself. I won’t ever abandon you, okay?”

My heart sank, heavy with guilt, and tears blurred my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, “It’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” said she without hesitation. “None of this is. It’s Lord Byron who hurts us. It’s Lord Byron who…who…”

She trailed off, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Who what?” A cruel, familiar voice asked.

We looked up in horror to find Lord Byron leaning in the doorway. Aurle and I both held back a whimper as our tails stiffened together, sharing a terrified look. How long had he been standing there?

“Go on, finish it,” he urged, gesturing with his hand. “I’d like to hear it.”

“It was nothing, my Lord. Simply a pleasure to serve you,” Aurle responded quickly, speaking with a confidence I knew neither of us felt.

“I see. You are quite the admirable slave, my dear Aurle. The way you melt in my hands and call my name, your moans in my ears…” he trailed off, smiling contentedly.

Aurle shivered, reaching out for my hand. I allowed her to grasp me tightly, and she relaxed, taking a deep breath.

“Milord, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” she asked, her voice steady.

“I was simply walking by and noticed you had both completed your tasks early. Quite admirable, really, and deserving of a reward.”

I shook my head, my voice trembling. “I-it’s alright. We’re just doing what needs to be done.” Favor with Lord Byron was never a good thing. It often meant ’special treatment.’

“Nonsense, I insist. Normally, I would invite one of you to my chambers, but I couldn’t bear the thought of separating such good friends. Perhaps you’d both like to join me? It’s been long since I’ve had the chance to pleasure two of my dear slaves at once. I wouldn’t mind stepping back and watching you enjoy each other, either. You can finally have a chance to express your feelings without the other slaves watching!”

He grinned widely, thumbing the ring on his finger. I swallowed hard, forcing back a wave of nausea. What kind of sick, perverted thoughts was he having? He wanted to force Aurle and me to…while he watched? I had no doubt it wouldn’t end there, either. He would never rest until he had defiled us both and left us bloody and bruised. This was no reward, but another invitation to hell.

But if I were to refuse this, what was he going to do? It had been three months since he’d begun torturing us with his antics. Each time I refused, his face grew a little tighter, his voice less patient. Was he rethinking his strategy? How long until just raping and hurting Aurle wasn’t enough?

Aurle’s chin trembled and her hands clenched into fists, but she returned my gaze with a nod. There was resolve in her eyes, instilled so deeply it seemed to spring out of her very soul. Tears welled up in my eyes as she squeezed my hand and gave me a small, comforting smile.

“I’m afraid Starlight won’t be able to accept your invitation. She’s feeling rather tired today,” Aurle said firmly. “But you’re welcome to take me, if it spares her.”

She glared at him, clearly conveying her refusal to break. Lord Byron frowned, all playfulness gone.

“To think you’re this stubborn. My patience is growing thin, Starlight. Are you certain you wish to reject me? If you come with me now, I swear to leave Aurle alone for at least a year. All of your pain and suffering can stop. You might even enjoy it.”

“I can’t,” I whispered, broken, “Not again. I’m sorry.”

I directed that last part to Aurle, who gave me a reassuring smile. Then her hand slipped from mine and she stood. Lord Byron shot me a final glare before whirling away.

“Come then, slave. We’ll see how long this defiance lasts.”

“Wait for me,” Aurle whispered, and then was gone.

I was left alone in the room, sobbing. Why had he decided to come here? He only ever made the selection in the morning, and we’d been assigned as maids for the entire week. He’d only just enjoyed Aurle the night before, and she was still sore and stiff. How could I possibly keep her suffering on my conscience like this?

But I couldn’t give in, not on this. I would gladly accept any other punishment no matter how painful or vile. I had lived with my body before, been used, abused, and tortured by drunkards and laymen, anyone who had a coin to spare. It was a cruel, lonely life, one that drove me to end it by my own hand.

This life had been free of that shackle, but I knew the moment I surrendered myself and put on that chain, it would end. Whatever embers still smoldered in my heart would grow cold, forever plunging me into despair.

But why was it so hard? With each passing day, I felt more and more alone. The endless torture broke my body, and even Aurle couldn’t mend the rifts forming in my heart.

I was tired. So very tired. I had given everything I had and more, living on hope I didn’t know I had. If Aurle hadn’t been there to constantly support me, I didn’t even want to think of what would happen.

That hope died the next day.

Early in the morning, before breakfast was served, Lord Byron strode through the doors. He carried a girl with red fox ears and a tail, dragging her by the throat. She was covered in bloody lacerations and deep bruises so dark they yellowed.

“Butler,” he said, nonchalantly, “mark this one off. Things got a little out of hand last night and she didn’t make it.”

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Didn’t make it? I pressed a hand to my heart to make sure it was beating and found it pounding with terror. Lord Byron shot me a snide look, the side of his lips curling up. I could read the challenge in his eyes but didn’t respond, falling limply against the cage.

He breathed in deep, as though filling his lungs with my despair, and said to me, “It was quite unfortunate, I know you were close. But I wonder, who shall I take next?”

The slaves shrunk back, casting withering glares in my direction and generally doing their best to make sure he knew by their hatred alone they held no fondness for me. Fortunately for them, Lord Byron left without saying more, and a collective sigh of relief floated around the room.

The moment my cage was unlocked, I ignored the aching wounds and scars from the previous day and scrambled over to Aurle. She was completely naked, her skin lacking its usually healthy flush. Her chest was still and unmoving. Her eyes stared up blankly into mine, caught in a final twisted moment of agony. One of her ears was gone, ripped free of her head, as were some of her fingers.

Aurle.

The name reverberated through my mind, pounding against my skull over and over. A mournful wail forced up my throat, and tears streamed unchecked. I bent over the foxkin’s corpse and cried, hugging her broken body against my chest and sobbing. Her blood stained my hands, so dark and deep it could never be scrubbed clean.

She was gone, and killed for what? If only I had…if only…

Darkness swirled around me, sweeping through the air and curling about my soul. I ignored it, pressing my face to Aurle, washing away the blood with my tears. I stiffened as a soft hand alighted on my head, resting lovingly between my horns.

“Xiviyah.” Fate’s voice came quietly, barely more than a whisper.

Nothing anymore, but I raised my head anyway. My eyes were blurred with tears, and it took me a moment to realize I was still in the Slave Chamber. A soft, radiant glow bathed the room in golden light, chasing the shadows into the corners. It fell on slaves of all races, illuminating their terror and forcing them back.

From her hand alone, I knew this was no illusion. Fate was here, not in a vision, but in the flesh. She was here on Enusia.

“Oh, child,” she murmured, kneeling behind me and wrapping her arms around me. I closed my eyes, lost in her embrace.

“It’s so dark,” I whispered.

Her arms tightened, but I could feel her sorrow. It was cold and intense, resonating with the sadness I had felt when I first arrived at the Mansion. Had it been her sorrow I was feeling? Silver bits of starlight trickled down her cheeks, falling onto my neck. She held me for a long time, ignoring the frozen stares of the slaves, before saying anything more.

“Fate?” I asked, trembling. “I can’t do this. I can’t keep going.”

“He has won, Xiviyah. They are all gone. Not just my heroes, but my believers. You are the last one.”

Her words sent a shock through me, and I stared up at her in disbelief. “What?”

“It’s dark, child, but I am prepared. It is what fate demands, after all.”

The starless night. It wasn’t about me at all, or even this world.

“Don’t leave me,” I pled, sobbing, “Please, don’t leave me. Not after Aurle…she…”

“I cannot change what is written. My Divine Kingdom falls, soon to be taken up by our enemies. This body you see is merely a memory of myself, an avatar. It is all that remains of a once proud goddess who thought she had mastered Fate. I know now that such things are merely a dream. You cannot fight truth, only accept it, and my truth ends here.”

“Then take me with you!” I pled. “Take me into that darkness, where no one can hurt or make me afraid. Please, I’m so tired…”

She smiled sadly, shaking her head. “You have a promise to keep, as do I. When we first met, I promised to guide you to happiness, but here you lie in the shadows. Even if it’s dawn, and my stars are fading, I will fulfill my word. A goddess can do that much for her final hero.”

Briefly, I wondered what promise I made that she was talking about. My memories of everything before this place were a blur, lost in the endless torture and anguish. I had failed everyone I’d ever known, most especially Aurle. What promise could matter more than that?

“Even in this darkest night, I leave you a single star. Walk, and fate will guide your path.”

Fate began to glow brighter, filling the room with a dazzling array of starlight. Tears streamed down my cheek as I felt her arms grow lighter, more insubstantial, slowly fading away. All too quickly, she was gone. A breath later, the light condensed, streaming toward my hand. In a single breath, something long, warm, and intimately familiar rested in my hand, pulsing with inner warmth.

The door burst open and Byron strode through. “What in the hells is going on?”

He looked around the cowering slaves before resting on me. His eyes widened as he took in the lingering sparkles of starlight dancing around the room like moths around a fire. They settled upon me, sticking to my hair and skin, filling me with the final warmth of Fate’s embrace.

“She’s gone,” I whispered, unable, perhaps unwilling, to stop the tears from flowing freely.

“Of course that slave’s gone! I killed her!” Byron spat. “And where did you get that staff?

I glanced down at the staff in my hands, noticing it for the first time. Tentatively, almost fearfully, I closed my hand around it, feeling the familiar grooves and runes. Sparks danced up and down its haft, leaking from an incomprehensible sense of resolve locked deep inside. I felt something I’d never felt before, a certainty, truth, even, beyond words.

A single star couldn’t light the night sky, but it wasn’t meant to. Instead, it gave direction. It gave hope. And that single, flickering hope was enough.

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