Lura Syllana
I’m paraded through the streets as people either stare wide-eyed or turn their heads. All know they could share the same fate. They bring me to a prison where I’m stripped of my clothes, sprayed down with water, and given a rag to wear. I’m held in a small, single cell with no window in complete darkness. The only thing I have is a cot and a bucket to shit and piss in. Well, except for the invisible ring on my finger. At least I still have that. But it won’t do any good with this collar.
I have no idea how much time goes by before I’m given a maggot-filled slop. It’s cold and damp. The only sounds I hear that are not of my making are rats scurrying about, guards making rounds, and other prisoners groaning, shouting, mumbling, and chatting to themselves.
I have no tears to cry, nor do I regret what I’ve done. That man was a curse upon this city and needed to die. The only regret I have is the thought of losing all my coin that I saved up to free my family. Part of me, a small part, feels I should’ve just endured it. It couldn’t have possibly been worse than what’s already been done to me, but I would rather seek death than let Phraan have any part of me.
The chill makes my skin constantly shiver. The smell of this place alone is enough to make my insides turn. Yet, the physical discomforts no longer bother me. I’ve felt so numb for so long. The pain I’ve endured has become my armor. Unfortunately, I don’t feel anything anymore. No happiness, no joy, or even pleasure. After what that first man did to me… After what all of those men have done to me. Orym, Faidhor Haryrwen, Phraan, and all of those men who just wanted to use me for my body regardless of whether I profited from it – even the ones serving me… It all just left me hollow inside. The pleasure I thought I felt when I had a man on his knees was more about the power I could have over them. The power that was taken from me many times over. I took no genuine pleasure from it. And I despised those men. Half of them had wives and children of their own and yet here they were, with me instead. My father would never have done that. Right?
He’s a good man and would’ve done anything for my mother. He did steal, but that’s nothing like being disloyal. And he changed. He stopped stealing. But… What does it all say about me? I’m the one selling my body for the pleasure of men just for coin. But I’m not the one who enjoys abusing helpless women.
I don’t know anymore. I’ve just come to hate men. All of them. They are all vermin. I guess I’m not so hollow after all. There’s one emotion I still feel.
Finally, the door to my cell opens and I’m blinded by the outside light as I’m lifted off the cot and dragged out. It takes me a long while to adjust to the brightness of the outside. The armed men lead me, stumbling through the halls and up the stairs. I feel so weak. I don’t know if it’s because of being imprisoned or this damn collar.
I’m brought into a courtroom and forced onto my knees before a rather old man. His pointy ears sag and his eyebrows are just as long as his ears. His hair is thin and white. I can imagine he has more wrinkles and splotches than hair.
“Lura is your name, correct?”
“Yes,” I say.
I’m given a swift backhand by the guard standing next to me. “You will show Judge Twinsign proper respect and address him at all times by his title.”
“Yes, Judge Twinsign.” I spit out.
“You were arrested and brought before me for the crimes of using magic without a permit and murder,” he says, as he reads the parchment before craning his neck and looking down at me through strained eyes.
“He tried to rape me,” I say. Another swift smack against the backside of my head. “Your honor…”
“Bah… You’re a whore. Isn’t that what you’re paid for?” the judge asks in a condescending tone.
But before I can retort, the doors to the courtroom open up and a woman with bright golden hair and a white dress walks in. A familiar woman.
“What is the meaning of this interruption?” the judge asks through squinting eyes.
“I apologize for my intrusion, your honor, but it has come to my attention that this girl is on trial for the use of magic. I am a priest of the Church of the Light and we could use talent such as hers. I would like to make a request that she be released into the hands of the church,” the woman says.
“She isn’t just being tried for using magic without a permit. She also murdered a man named Phraan,” the judge says.
The woman stops in front of me and stands tall with her hands clasped behind her back. She seems so sure of herself. So confident. That’s when I realize how I know her. “Yes, I’m quite aware of the situation. The man also tried to assault her. I talked with the Madame of the brothel and she gave me the details. One worker reported to me that she heard signs of a struggle and cries coming from the room before a bright light poured out of the cracks of the door. I can also attest personally that she suffered an assault several cycles ago. She’s been victimized, and I would warrant her action wasn’t one of murder, but self-defense. Not only that, but Phraan has a history of violence towards women and other criminal activity. Therefore, the only crime she should be punished for is using magic without a permit. As decreed by the council, the church has every right to have any who use magic without a permit handed over to the church so they can be taught to heal and serve the people. Unless you wish to go against the council’s decrees and the full weight of the Church of the Light, I suggest you hand the girl over.”
“But… But she is a whore. It is expected that she serves a man for coin,” the judge says.
“Is she not allowed to refuse offers or customers like any other business? Does her position require her to endure abuse and physical violence? The exchange is sex for coin, not to be beaten, humiliated, and forced against your will. With all due respect, your honor…” She says with a weight of judgment. “But the law clearly labels rape as being illegal. Rape is defined as the victim being forced to have sex against their will. The law also states that when death occurs from defending an assault against one’s self, then it is not recognized as a crime. Do you not agree?”
“Well… I…” He spits and sputters. “Perhaps you’re correct.”
“Then it means, and feel free to correct me if I am wrong, but it means that the girl should be handed over to the church since she is no longer being charged with murder,” she says. “I… Well… Fine. So be it. I declare that Lura is handed over to the church. However, I declare her property to be confiscated by the government. Now be off,” he says, slamming the gavel against the block. That last command felt like a punch in the stomach. All my hard work. All those men I had to put up with, was just erased. The coin I worked so hard to accumulate is gone. How am I ever going to free my family?
Be the first 100 to sign up for the Arathoon Newsletter and a FREE Digital copy of Shattered Souls when it is released!
