Stranded with the friends of his step-daughter. What to do?
Cadeon, she was almost positive, had previously been in her position. Sayrai was going to have to appeal to that even though the idea left her unhappy. Bringing those types of memories out might be painful for him.
And she had no doubt they were, indeed, painful. She just had to wait until she was with Cadeon, if the Warlord allowed him to come back around.
But as it stood, the Warlord was her only option: she was truly going to have to curb her attitude this time. That was enough to make her want to scream or vomit, whichever her body preferred.
She laid down on the blanket and twisted to get as comfortable as the chain would allow.
Sayrai closed her eyes.
There were images flashing across the darkness: fire, chants, and red. So beautiful and cruel and it was inked on her skin. Embers floated on the air and she watched them as they crafted a story in air. The language was fluid and she knew it was meant for her. Written about her.
She felt the soft dirt under her feet: a path well walked because she had been here before. She followed the embers still dancing, still reciting, still undecipherable.
"Wait...let me..." her words died quickly because she was too far away and if she did not catch up to the story...it would leave her behind. Still, helplessly she watched them float up toward the night sky as expansive as a sea.
And there she saw the embers circle up near the moon. Bright and intelligent like an eye without an iris.
The sight stole air from her lungs.
Sayrai awoke, trying to take in air. It would do no good because the Warlord, as per his habit, had his foot on her chest.
"You laze about as if you have all the time in the world." He drawled, leaning forward to apply more pressure.
Sayrai twisted under the onslaught, fury again taking up space inside of her, "...Stop..." she gasped, then weight on her chest was gone. He had complied with her request and as she took deep breaths she became suspicious.
"Time to get up. I have much to do today. Fortunately, I do have time to spare for you this morning." He reached down to take her by the arms and settled her on her feet. She did not push him away nor did she cow before him.
"And what, sir, does that entail?" her voice raspy from waking up so violently.
He squeezed the flesh on her upper arms and smiled, "To begin, slave, you need to bathe and if you are very good I won't let you starve."
That sounded mundane enough. She felt grimy from last night.
She bowed her head in agreement and the Warlord laughed, "I'm curious to see how long this obedience will last."
He pointed for her to follow him and like the tower room he had put her in, there were rooms off from the main bedroom much larger and luxurious than what she had been provided.
It held a large, steaming pool that smelled masculine and clean. The room had more of the stone she had seen outside of Sytadel and there were large mats that felt funny under her feet. At the far end of the pool, situated higher on wall, was a steady stream of water that poured down creating small churning commotions.
She wondered how it had been constructed and if this was the only room that had it?
"In." the Warlord said curtly, his back to her as he rifled around the large shelving. She took the opportunity to glare at him.
Sayrai carefully walked down the steps that had the same gritty matting, and almost moaned. The water was so warm and it welcomed her body in a smooth embrace. She did not care if the Warlord was watching, did not care that it was childish to be thrilled by water.
It reminded her of the warm springs that had been fed by the sea off the coast of Terithia. When the court of her "stepfather" had been vying for supremacy and giving her glances of disdain-she had escaped and found solace within the water.
Behind her, Sayrai heard the slicing of water being disturbed and was not happy to see the Warlord wading in.
"I don't know what you think-" she start