34. Lina
Lina
O ne week. I’ve been in this place for one week, and somehow things are… normal? Not terrible. I find myself forgetting the worst parts. I find myself enjoying conversation with Helena and relaxing in the pool.
I still think of Astella often. Does she think I’m being tortured? Does she think I’m already dead?
Somehow, it feels like a betrayal to feel good here.
It is not good here. But it feels that way sometimes.
I dress on my own this morning to save time.
My hair is more luscious than it’s ever been, and each day I receive more and more compliments on it.
The coils bounce in my hand. My dress today is dark blue, with long sleeves and a hem down to the floor.
Helena brought me a whole different set of dresses to accommodate my Drak’s request for less exposed skin. I didn’t have a say.
While I find the new dresses less pretty than the others, and more conservative than the other Drahkita, I don’t mind being covered. I am not the only one who dislikes leers from men.
It is strange that my own Drak doesn’t look at me that way either.
Not that I want him to. I just don’t understand my place here without it. What exactly does he want with me?
My Dread leaves me alone, for the most part. He is respected—or at least feared. Other Drahkita bow their heads when he enters the room. I have not been taught to do so for others, so I don’t know what that means.
I’ve heard he is from an important bloodline but has previously refused leadership. I don’t know how the hierarchy works. Does his legacy mean more respect than others even if he doesn’t act on it? Or did something change?
Others in the community were shocked to hear that he fought the other warrior for me.
I only see him some nights at dinner. He or Helena walk me back to the room and leave me alone until morning.
Dressed and ready, I stand awkwardly in the small room, and I think of Astella.
It has been a full week. Where is she now? I pray to any god who will hear to keep her safe. Reunite us.
I think of my reading. The silver seer freezing, and never finishing. She’s said three words. Words I’m not supposed to take too seriously because she never finished the reading. Chaos, reconciliation and violence. Were they all part of the reading? Were none of them?
I can’t help but consider the possibility that it means Astella is here.
Maybe my reconciliation will be outside of these walls. I’ll escape and find her again.
I’ve seen little of the underground city. Though I’ve tried to learn as much as possible, we are sequestered to one small portion of the mountain. The pool or the sanctuary are the most central locations I’ve been to.
If Astella were brought here, where would she be taken? Would I ever even see her? Is she here already, being tormented by a Drak or in the pits or being worked to the bone in the kitchens?
I rub my face with my hands. The idea of her being out in the world all alone is terrible, but being here is somehow worse.
Restlessness gets the better of me and I rush for the door. I am surprised to find it opens with ease. I blink at the open hall in front of me.
My heart pounds.
Right now is not the time to explore, unfortunately, because as I look to my right, I see a tan skirt bouncing toward me.
“Drahkita!” Helena says, scampering to meet met in the hall. “You did not wait for me!” She grips my forearms tightly as I let the door to my dwelling shut.
“I knew you’d be along. I figured I’d meet you.” I give her a sweet, innocent smile.
She looks over my shoulder and then over hers.
“Is that wrong? Am I not allowed?”
She curls her arm in mine to guide me down the hall with her. “Well, it is not traditional,” she says under her breath. “Your Drak may not like you being left alone.”
My Drak doesn’t seem to care one way or another. I’m alone often, just in my room. My cheeks warm, though, at the thought of my Drak’s reaction to Rickter staring at me after my first dress fitting. I don’t understand him.
“You want to be careful, that is all.” She forces a smile.
The other Drak warriors don’t even look in my direction. Is that only true while others are around? Is that only true based on rank? If a higher ranking or respected Drak were to take interest in me, would he take me?
My stomach sours at the thought. Not because I have any particular fondness for my Dread, but considering he hasn’t touched me once, it’s highly likely that I wouldn’t fair as well with another.
We reach the pool with rushing water, and I breathe in the damp air. This place is the most beautiful site, with careening blue waters and soft mist. The cascades alone make it hard for me to hate the Drak’yn den.
I remove my dress and quickly step into the warm water.
“You are looking well, Drahkita,” Helena tells me. “Much healthier.” She nudges my waist. I look down at my body. I haven’t noticed much of a difference in myself, but I suppose a few less bones are visible. I sink into the water up to my shoulders near a group of older Drahkitas.
“You glow with love from your Drakien!” Helena tells me, her voice loud and joyful. It catches the attention of the older women.
I suck in a breath. I glow from what?
“It is always a joy to watch a new Drahkita blossom,” Helena’s eyes dart to the other women.
She is not as subtle as she seems to think.
“Some take much time to feel safe. Some do not eat for weeks. You are a very fast learner. And Azkel is very defensive of you, which is a good sign that you are pleasing him too.”
“Pleasing him…”
“It is the Drahkitas’ most important role,” one of the woman says, her eyes steady on mine. Subtle or not, Helena’s baiting worked.
The woman has long, straight hair and freckles across her nose.
I consider my comfort level with this conversation. So far, the other Drahkita have been nice but have kept their distance. Helena gives me a tiny nudge toward them.
Information over comfort, I remind myself. I breathe deeply and then approach the group, stopping still a few feet away but close enough to converse.
“Mothering children is vastly important, but you are first and foremost a companion,” the woman continues.
“It is a hard job that the Drak warriors do. They must face many horrors in their weeks away from the den, but their companions give them something to look forward to. It is an important role.”
I am unsure how to respond to her little monologue, but my mind wanders a bit farther than intended and I find myself blurting out, “Where do they sleep?”
The women go still, brows furrowed, and my stomach immediately drops.
“What do you mean?”
My lips parts, but uncertainty swells up in my stomach. I want to know where my Drak goes at night, but what if it’s not normal that they avoid their Drahkita? What if it reveals my true place here and how I’ll soon be rejected?
“Do you mean when they are out in the outworld on their missions?” Helena asks quickly.
The three Drahkitas look at each other.
“Her Drak has not been on mission since she has been here,” one of the Drahkitas says to the others.
“Yes, but she must be curious about it.”
I force a smile, accepting Helena’s excuse quickly. “Yes, that is what I mean.”
The freckled woman gives me a warm smile. “They make camp with their squad near their drakai. I do not envy their time in battle. It cannot be comfortable. That is why our role is so important!”
“I see. Thank you for explaining.”
I run my hand over the surface of the water. A moment later a question bubbles up from my soul. Maybe it’s another risk, but I have to know. “What happens if a Drahkita does not please her Drak?”
There is a pause as the older women look at each other.
“That is an unpleasant fate,” she answers slowly, as if measuring her words.
I consider pressing them on this further. I want to know what that fate is. I want to know what I am risking by holding the Dread at arm’s reach. Does my survival rest on making the brute desire me?
“Don’t worry, Lina,” Helena says, touching my arm softly. “You are not in danger. It is the ones who refuse to accept their new reality that struggle the most. You are chosen. You were fought for. You are lovely. And you are fitting into the community well.”
“Truly,” the shorter of the three woman says. “You will be with us a long while, I am sure of it.”
But her smile seems forced. Does she herself not believe that I will be here a long time? I don’t wish to be here a long time, but if my time is more limited than I’d realized, I will have to ensure I take advantage of every possible moment.
I am lost in thought for the next several minutes, soaking in the warm water.
My body feels as if it’s being chased by a shadow beast, fearful of some invisible foe. My soul is soft and aching. My mind drifting into nothingness.
The women continue a soft chatter.
“Under the pit?” one whispers in a hushed tone. “What a tragedy.”
I blink, coming back to reality. The three older women are sitting close as they talk, as if it’s something urgent and perhaps secret.
“How long has she been there?”
“Two or three days.”
“Poor thing.”
“Who is a poor thing?” I blurt out before I reconsider. This conversation is obviously not meant for me, but then again, they are close enough they should be prepared that I could overhear them.
“Oh, nothing, child,” one of them answers.
“May as well tell her. She’ll hear about these sorts of things eventually,” the shorter one says and without waiting for a response, continues. “One of the servants was caught stealing recently and is now in the dungeons.”
“Dungeons,” I repeat. I do remember Gordian mentioning them.
“Reserved for only criminals. It’s very sad when one of our own community turns out to be so untrustworthy.”
I frown. That is sad. “What did she steal?”
“Some jewelry, I heard.”
“Oh, I heard it was milk.”
Those are two very different crimes. “Why would she need to steal milk?”
The oldest woman pauses before answering. “The servants have limited rations, based on their needs. She doesn’t need more; she just wanted it. We all must accept our role in this community. It is the way. If you resist, you are cast out.”
“We serve the Drak,” the other two say in unison.
Is being hungry truly a crime? “Do we not have enough food to share with all?”
The Drahkitas exchange a look.
Helena’s brow creases. “Of course we have enough. But different roles have different needs. Your needs are so much more than those who work.”
I jerk back from her. Are they? Doesn’t working require more sustenance?
“And what about you?” I ask Helena. “Do you eat your fill, or are you limited?”
Her lips part. “I am… content.” She bows her head.
“When she is serving a Drahkita, she eats and bathes as one,” a Drahkita answers for her. “When she is not chosen for the right, she is as the other servants.”
So, our comfort here is based on our roles, and it can change at any time. Is this why they believe it is such a blessing to be the companion of the warriors?
Is it truly a blessing, or is it simply the absence of punishment?
I’ve experienced more than my share of hunger and have seen the widespread effects of famine. I can understand limiting food for a large community based on availability, but I am unsure I can accept the idea that some are given more than others.
“What happened to her? The girl who stole the milk?”
“Necklace,” the brunette corrects.
“She was sent to the dungeons,” Helena answers.
“Yes, but… is she fed there? Are there many people there?”
“It is not good to wonder about criminals as a Drahkita. They are… not worth your care.”
I frown. They are people all the same. And if it is a punishment that could happen to any of us for breaking rules, I do believe it worth it to at least understand.
“There are many criminals, yes,” Helena answers. “It is a dangerous place to be. Some live for years, others only a night.”
“Then there must be some kind of sustenance,” I infer.
“If you say so.” She shrugs. All three seem much less interested in me suddenly.
“We should finish up, Lina Drahkita!” Helena says, forcing a smile. “Let me wash your skin.”
The other women take this cue to move into another pool, farther away from us.
I allow Helena to carefully scrub me and rinse while I ponder the dungeons.
“You should not be so crass, Lina,” she says in a hushed-but-urgent tone. “Compassion for those who have betrayed our order is frowned upon.”
I consider her words carefully. “Is my place here so precarious?”
She sighs. “Your place is decided by your Drak. His order and his favor are what matter most. But it is still not good to be rejected by the community. And if he notices their dislike, or hears of your rebellious ways, he may consider you unworthy. It is why you must ensure he is pleased with you.”
I let her words linger for a long while. My Drak doesn’t seem overall concerned about me. He hasn’t touched me. He avoids my presence whenever possible.
But why? Why choose me, fight for me, keep me, and then disregard me?
“What happens?” I whisper. “Tell me what happens to a rejected Drahkita, and I promise I will try my best to fit in better.”
She pauses her scrubbing for a long moment then sighs dramatically. “If they are a mother, they are kept with us. But if they are not, they are given to the other men. They… do what they want. Some are reclaimed by another and kept as a Drahkita. Sometimes, they are discarded.”
My stomach turns. “And if they’re discarded?” I ask, my voice hollow.
“Then, they are sent to the dungeon.”
My brow furrows. “With the criminals?”
“Yes, but it is temporary. They are kept there until the full moon.”
I swallow. “What happens on the full moon?”
“They are bled out, and then fed to the draken.”