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Chapter 1
The thud of the gavel echoed through the room, an eerie coldness settling into her gut. Her fate was sealed. The guards on either side of her held her still, her breath quickening, her eyes filled with desperation as they placed a heavy metal collar around her neck.

She struggled futilely as the room around her bustled with the staff getting ready for another trial. *They treated it like normal, like sealing her fate in such a way was trivial.* Her mind fogs, every fibre of her being, her years as an assassin, fighting against an eerie sense of calm that tries to wash over her.

She slumped slightly, her resistance slowly seeping from her muscles. Her damn body wouldn’t listen to her. The guards drag her along the ground out of the room. Her body limp and pliant as she struggles internally, fighting the collar with all her willpower.

Even if she hadn’t already used all her strength to fight the collar it wouldn’t have changed anything. The thick black obsidian cuffs forcing her hands behind her back and their blasted antimagic engravings would block any attempt she made.

The guards hauled her limp body to the rear of the room where they unceremoniously shove her body into a small cage. She drowsily protests “too small…”. The guards just grin wickedly. One of them reading in a matter of fact tone “Section §3.5.0 Caging and housing of the First great royal law of instituted servitude simply states requires it ‘ both is covered from the elements, and doesn’t have anything that could harm the slave’, nothing about the comfort of the slave - darling”.

The guard’s cold detachment sent shivers down her numb spine. Her mind reeling to comprehend their cruelty while fighting against the collar’s lul. Meanwhile the same cruel guard roughly picks up the cage, jostling her against the side harshly, and carries it outside the courthouse. Each step in his journey sends her body tumbling inside the cage.

Finally after what felt like an eternity the guard practically drops her onto a small wooden cart. The jostling sent her careening into the side of the cage. She tries to brace, to resist; but ultimately is helpless with her magic sealed.

She just sat there, sat; nothing to do; nothing to distract her from her enslavement. As she waited she tried to think of something – anything she could do to escape this new hell of hers. But she couldn’t think, couldn’t strategize as the collar bent her thoughts.

The collar continued to bend her mind, a warm feeling spreading through her chest as the trader spurs the horses pulling the wagon into motion. The sickening feeling of Stockholm syndrome creeping in. She fights, fights the feeling with all her willpower, her mind spiraling in dread.

The wagon moved along the cobbled city street, most onlookers not giving it a second glance. A few children give it curious looks, but nonetheless don’t question it. The few adults who do watch her wear a look of false pity on their faces — no one cares that she’s a slave, just that they aren’t.

The subtle creaking and shaking of the wagon as it passed over the rough cobbled road gave her a slight distraction – but even with her training it’s hard to detach from her situation. She looked for something to focus on, something, anything – anything to distract her from her current scenario.

After several treacherous minutes the cart halted in a large square. The driver got off the wagon and secured the horses before turning to her, and the other various cages with obvious contempt. He spits at the foot of the cart, making half the slaves flinch.

His gaze lingered on the cart for a moment before unceremoniously hulking each cage to a platform in front of a nearby stand. The attendant at the stand chatted merrily with the driver before writing some things in a small booklet then slipping it under the counter and fingering over a few coins to the driver – who she finally realized was actually a city-guardsman.

She sat there for what felt like hours that first day. No one giving her more than a passing glance as she curls into a ball inside her cramped cage and tries to fight the feeling of submission creeping into her through the collar.

The day passes and still nothing. At dinner time she’s given a dirty, moldy piece of bread and a small bowl of water. The reeking smell of the bread making her gag – she’d eaten bugs and raw animal meat for her training, yet this was still somehow worse.

She stared at the bread for a moment, considering throwing it away. But then her stomach grumbles, reminding her she hasn’t eaten all day. She sighs lightly, scared she’ll be punished further if she doesn’t eat it and reluctantly takes a bite – fighting against her gag reflex and she swallows it like bad medicine.

She swallowed, the taste lingering in her mouth as she carefully eats the rest of the bread and chugs down the water. She lays down in the cage again. The cold metal of the cage making it hard for her to rest. But as she closed her eyes a final thought filled her mind: why me?

She woke up to a heavy jolt the next morning as the attendant woke up all the slaves by banging their fist on the side of each cage. Her eyes widening as the memories of the previous day come rushing back to her. Her own personal hell, that’s where she was.

She studied the vast plaza again, her mind slightly clearer after a long night’s rest – yet the collar still pulling at her consciousness. She studied the morning crowd, no one was even looking at her — or so she thought until she saw something in the edge of her eye.

A man – a man with heavy metal armor and a long golden sword with magical engravings sheathed on his back was study her. She looked back at him carefully, trying to gauge his intentions. He smiles, just smiles back at her like she wasn’t having the worst day of her long, long elven life.

He stepped towards her cage, each clank of his armor causing her to wince slightly. He continues, unheeded by the passersby as he stops in front of her cage, seeming to study her closely. She shifts uncomfortably under his gaze.

He reached through the cage bars, she shrunk back. As his hand moved towards her she struggled to comprehend — Just who is this man?