With Robert gone, Beth must find a way to get him back. With all of the brotherhood working to find information, all she can do is sit and wait. After discovering something monumental, she decides she needs to go and get him herself.

The biting winter wind rushed past and he tried to shrink even more. The darkness was eternal and gloomy. The wood below him pushed splinters into his feet and he closed his eyes again, trying to wake up from this horrible nightmare.

When he opened them again, he was still standing on the small stage in the large courtyard. He cast a despondent glance around. His eyes almost immediately settled on her.

He almost bared his teeth and snarled at her but stopped himself, aware it would only end with another beating. A small, triumphant smile spread across her lips as she noticed his anger and hatred. She leant back in her seat, her red hair flaming against her white dress.

One of the guards grabbed the back of his neck, dragging him forward.

“Where’s your mother now, vampire?” he asked with a dark chuckle.

He made no response. His broken ribs were constant memories of how it was bad to antagonise the guards.

As he was pushed forward, onto centre stage, there was a collective gasp. So, this lot know who I am as well, he thought bitterly.

“First call,” shouted the man at the podium.

The responses quickly became more expensive and more heated. Over at the other end of the room, her smile began to become wider and wider as everything escalated.

He just stood and watched it with a distanced mind. He felt as though this was happening to someone faraway and he was still at home with the one he loved. He frowned; he couldn’t think of her, not at all. If he did, he knew this disinterest would quickly disappear and he would break inside. Well, even more than he already had.

As he pushed her from his mind, he focused on the sound of the shouting.


Well, this was it: sold into eternal servitude—which was a long time when you lived forever. He glanced up at the buyer, and then at the one who had brought him here. She was clapping along with everyone else, but the smile on her face was devious and sickening. She knew exactly what she had sold him into. This was his punishment.

The guard grabbed him again, turning him around to march him away. The crowd of the upper class eldritch society gasped once more as they got an eyeful of the scars on his back. Yeah, he’d been an assassin, so what?

The guard tightened his grip on the back of his neck, his nails digging in. He didn’t wince because he didn’t feel it. He was numb, as he had been since all this had started, since she’d brought him here. He didn’t know how long had passed, seeing as there was no sun to count the days.

He didn’t look around as he was walked down the corridor; he didn’t want to see the evidence of abuse. The scent of blood and tears was too strong in his nose for it to be anything else that stained the dirt floors. The sound of the quivering masses that were to be sold as slaves was too distinct for him to even try to convince himself it was anything else. He didn’t need to see it too.

He was directed past all this to the small room where slaves were registered, picked up and freed. Though not so much the latter.

Standing in the room, talking animatedly to one of the guards, was his new master. Looking up at him, he swallowed.

He just wanted to go home.


The End

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