The world swirls and fades and it feels oh so wrong. Absolute raging screaming, fills my ears. I open my eyes and all I see is large, gaping jaws full of salivating human teeth and dog teeth mixed together. I scream. I black out again and I'm standing on a misty field, on grass that is somehow wrong. I look around. My comrades are with me, Kata pulling Lilith onto her feet and Anderei looking around disorientedly. We seem to be in front of a wall. It's immense, stretching up and to each side so much that I cannot see its ends. It's brightly coloured with gold and silver accents. The carving is ornate, incredibly ornate. Whoever created these carvings must have spent innumerable time here. The carvings etched upon the wall's stone however, portray a horrific scene.
It's the War. Of course it is. The Great War of Arrangement. We've all heard the stories of it. Of how the Towerpeople, lead by their great Prince Audra, with the help and the blessing of the Fates, took over all the lands. This is the story of how he fought the "dirt savages" and brought them into their "proper places in the world." It's the story of how, with the guidance and support of the four Fates, they waged war against us and enslaved our people. The Towerpeople regard this story as truth but me, I have always wondered how much of it is merely propaganda.
Either way, looking at this scene kills me. The red of blood and the twisting of bodies and the silver glints of swords and spears and the burning horrible eyes of tall, broad, handsome-looking warriors and the untamed matted hair of scrawny, empty-eyed prisoners and dead people. The death and violence painted in bright colours of glory. The conquerors carved tall and strong and powerful and revered. The conquered carved as savage and inhuman. This is a sick piece of propaganda that stretches on and on and on and I know it is propaganda but it still hurts. It is some kind of victory though to be able to see something and to actually get to see it rather than having to anxiously scramble to clean it. I smirk inwardly.
"Damn. Who the fuck commissioned this?" Lilith. Snarky, as ever. She makes me laugh. She makes us all laugh. And the four of our laughter cuts cold and flowing into the muggy air. It's a sad sort of laughter. A destroyed sort of laughter. Gallows humour.
"Well it's just propaganda. Just some bullshit the towerpeople would tell themselves to boost their ego. Don't let it get to you." Anderei's voice is comforting. I know it's just propaganda. But hearing someone say that out loud is comforting.
"Let's... focus on our mission. We don't know how much time we have. What do we do now?" We have to keep going. For our kids. To give them destiny. To give them a better future. To free them.
"Perhaps we should go into the castle. It seems like a place a Fate would live in." Anderei's voice is cautious and not very confident.
"You're right it absolutely is. All this glitz and glamour and this macabre display of make-beleive superiority." Lilith's voice is bitter.
"I agree, a Fate is here. I can just feel it, this whole place feels so very wrong. We've got to go out and face it." I take a deep breath after I speak these words.
"Yeah. We can kill it. I'm sure we can. We have to. I remember what it's like being a child slave separated from my family. It's eating me up inside thinking my children - that any children - are going through the same fucking thing. We have to kill those bastards." He's feeling a father's pain. Of course he is.
"Guys, we have to go. We don't know how much time we have. We can't just wait around in fear. I know you guys are scared. I am too. But we have each other. We can do it. We have to do it. And the only way to win this battle is to move forwards. However we can. Whenever we can. We've made it this far. We've made it this far and that's absolutely amazing. We can make it even farther. We can make it all the way to the end. I just know it. In every part of my soul. And this isn't just hope. It's courage. Trust me. We can do this. Come on, there's a revolution to win."
"You're right, Kata, let's go."
We take unsteady yet sure steps through the field, along the depravity that is the wall. We look for a door yet there doesn't seem to be one.
"Goddamnit it'll break this thing myself!" Anderei exclaims as he slams his open palm into the stone. I fully expect it to do nothing but, no, the chiseled brow of a muscular tower barbarian crumbles, just a little bit, under the soft flesh of his small hand.
I stare wide-eyed. We all do. Katapa smiles. An almost delirious, wind-laden smile.
"How'd you do that?" I ask.
"I don't know. I fucking hate this wall. I hate the way it portrays our people. I thought about all the dirtpeople I love. About my Andronicha and Mafalia and Levi and Pavlin and you guys and my mom and my dad and Aunt Nocta and Aunt Judith and Titi Novell and Dariee and Uncle Hilden and Jaoi and Alessina and -"
"We get it." Lilith smiles at her husband, but it's an absolutely heartbroken sort of smile, laced with fear.
"I remembered how great we all are. How amazing. How resilient. How full of life we are. How much happiness we deserve. How much we make the best situation out of the nothing that we have. How human we are. And I don't know, it felt like something gathered inside me, strong enough to cut diamonds."
"Well damn," Katapa says, cautious eyes filled with wonder. She takes a moment to gather herself. And she hits the wall with her closed fist. A bit of stone gives out under her.
I take a moment to think about the adorable jokes Mafalia cracks about the towerpeople when they're out of earshot. I think about all the times Pavlin asks /why/ and I can't answer them. I think of the way Andronicha solemnly wipes the tears from your eyes. About how Levi sings under his breath before falling alsleep sometimes. And I feel heartbroken. But something wells up inside me and before I know it the bright electric magenta before me chips away leaving jagged marble.
————
Once we've gotten a good-sized portion of the wall broken, we squeeze in, one by one.
The world inside has pure fear thick and damp in the very air of it. We instinctively cling together, my arms around Kata's waist on one side and Lilith's waist on the other.
Statues, tall and large and intricate and shining and looming, fill this courtyard to the brim. A silver, jewel-encrusted chain snakes around each and every statue and every which way in the courtyard.
They're terrible.
Towerpeople looming tall standing up straight as flagpoles, brows arching with disdain and pride.
We pass by a lot of ornate statues carved into a battle scene. Small, wretched-looking dirtpeople. Lying on the ground cut into by the sword or spear of an armour-clad towerperson. Twisting in the arms of warriors in gleaming uniforms. References to The War I'm sure. It's even worse than how I pictured it when I was in church. I cling to Katapa and Lilith harder.
We pass by a new group of statues. Slaves low on the ground, on their knees scrubbing floors beside towerpeple lounging on ornate sofas. Towerpeople draped over ornate canopy beds with sheer curtains, dressed in silk and reading or talking while ragged-looking dirtpeople slept tied up on the stone floors under the beds. This is a practice done by some towerpeople, to make sure their personal slaves are always close at hand. I'm incredibly lucky that it hasn't ever been done to me. I can make no guarantees about what fates might be befalling the young ones. There is a chain of platinum, studded with jewels, wrapped over the statues. These new statues are not propaganda of a war that never happened. They're a depiction of the horrors that inhabit real life. That inhabit our lives. Except instead of being portrayed as the abominations they are, they are portrayed with a grosteque sort of glory. I look at Katapa. Her face is clouded with abhorrence. I look at Lilith. Her face is filled with rage. I look at Anderei. And I can't read what's on his face but he looks so small.
We come to a large, stretching group of statues that depict dirtpeople as faceless masses bending over or kneeling down and tending to fields while towerpeople stand over them in high verandas that almost look like alters gilded in luxury and decadence. They are picking cotton, a staple ingredient in fabrics and clothing. Our people are bending forwards, close to the ground while the Towerpeople stand tall. The chain wraps around these statues too. I used to work in a field, albeit not a cotton field. It's hard, thankless work under the hot sun. There are too many people who hunger and strain to grow the things that keep the Towerpeople's world going. It is probably the work my family is still doing. I ache at remembering them, and their sorrow.
Now there are statues of lines upon lines of dirtpeople, faceless, nameless, sitting on the ground toiling in a factory. Towerpeople overseers, dressed in fine clothes and flowing, bright capes that trail on the floor, stroll through the aisles with their noses in the air. The dirtpeople are sanding wood down into fine, smooth shapes. Again the chain is present. Lilith used to work at a furniture factory when she was but a small child. She carried pieces over the breaks of the assembly line. She said it was dangerous there. That she fears for her family. I look over to her. Her face is a blank sheet of pure rage.
The next group of statues are of slaves at work in a sugar plantation. They bend low, hacking at the sugar cane with their machetes. Their heads are down and their backs are bare. Even the women only wear skirts and wrappings around their breasts. They look wretched. At the end of long rows of sugar cane there is a Towerman sitting reagally on a horse cart loaded with cut cane. He sits above the low dirtpeople loading the cart. The chain coils and wraps its way through the scene. Seeing the way sugar is gathered almost makes me feel guilty of all the times I wished to taste sugar. I clutch Katapa closed to me. Her and Anderei's eyes are filled with sorrow, Lilith's with horror.
The statues we pass by after these are ones that depict a diamond mine. Slaves hang their shoulders, dark and thin and horrible, chipping away at rocks. A Towerperson sits at the base of a pile of diamonds, a large stick in his hands. Katapa's horror and sorrow is slowly giving way to increasing anger. Lilith's anger is a deep, contemplative sort. And as always Anderei's anger is protective. Anderei picks us up when we're at our lowest. Reminds us that we deserve more. For this I am grateful.
The statues we are in front of now show dirtpeople picking fruits. They bend over backwards under towering hard trees, in messy winding rows. Their hair is messy. Their faces are wretched. Their skin is dark and dirt stained. Their feet are bare. They look exhausted. Yet still they work. Walking down the rows of dirtpeople, dressed in fine clothes and wide-brimmed hats, are Towerpeope. They carry large sticks. Their backs are perfectly straight. Their forms are filled out. Their faces confident and smug.
The next statues depict dirtpeople at a factory making jewelry. The forges glow. The metals shine. The people's faces and eyes are absolutely devoid of any light. They sit hunched over on the floor. Their hands are burned and cut. The tools twist and writhe in their hands. The chain drapes around and over them. It also drapes around and over the overseers. They sit on sturdy chairs and look out over the workers. They wear belts of fine leather and rings of fine gems. All of us look at each other. Though we are too overcome by shock and fear to say anything, we find strength in each other. We always find strength in each other. Thank the universe that we're together.
The statues we walk past now show the image of a glass factory. And then we pass by a gold mine. After that is a flour mill. Then a bakery. We pass by a construction site. A cacao plantation. A carpet factory. Each time the statues revel in our wretchedness, and exalt the masters' regality.
We pass by a store that sells fine fabrics. It's worked by a young dirtboy. He kneels in front of a Towerwoman, looking up at her. He looks a little bit like Pavlin. My heart breaks. I can't take this anymore. I can't take my life. But I remember what we have to do.
There are also statues of only Towerpeople. Standing on podiums or mingling at parties or doing a lot of lazy, ostentatious bullshit. They get to live the good life while we have to work. Hatred wells up in my heart.
We pass by more statues. Beautiful Towerwomen with long silken hair stand talking with arrow-straight posture while dirtpeople bend and stoop around them, fitting clothes and jewelry onto their bodies. Towerpeople glower from plush, soft, brightly coloured litters carried on the hunching shoulders of dirtpeople. Lines of dirtpeople looking meekly down as they serve the Towerpeople.
I hate all these statues so so so fucking much. The pain and rage and misery and fear and desolation and humiliation and ... everything ... they make me feel is inexpressible. We were too shocked and horrified to put words to what we felt before. But I feel the shock of the horror crumbling away leaving rage in its place.
"Ugh universe these bullshit statues remind me of too much nonsense," Lilith starts. "But one time when I was six, I was standing in attendance for 'Mistress' Amalita and her friends. More or less I was filling up theirs plates and glasses. And I was being so quiet and meek and obedient just like I was supposed to be. And I hated it. But they were talking about their slaves, including me. Talking about how obedient and efficient they were, comparing human beings as if we were new dresses or like ... things to be used. They were talking about me like I was a thing, like I was property, like I was some kind of tool and not a person. They were not talking about me as a person with feelings and thoughts of my own and rights and dignity. They were just talking about how useful and efficient and obedient and fucking convenient I was, my people were. I had to stand there and be silent and be silent and be polite to people who were being rude to me and take it and take it and I couldn't anymore. I told them to go fuck themselves. I have no idea why I said that. Amalita told me to get on the ground. She ground her fucking shoe into my mouth it hurt so much but even more so it was fucking humiliating. They withheld food from me for two months after that." Lilith's words are steady but she is crying.
"We're going to destroy their entire system, Lily. We're going to burn their world down, don't worry babe." Anderei's voice is full of deep-seated rage, with all the silence of embers growing in heat, ready to break out into wildfire. It is filled with love for his wife. And for his people. Once I heard the Towerpeople talk about how the dirtmen hold no love for their women, not like Towermen do. But seeing the sweet raging selflessness Anderei treats all of us with, I wonder whether it's even possible for a husband or a brother to show more love.
"We've all been subject to unbearable degradation," I tell her, "And we've deserved none of it."
"We've all toiled under their heel for too long it's time that we drown them in their own blood." Katapa is so protective and motherly. And that protection now takes the form of white-hot, blood-red, blinding rage.
"When we win we won't need statues to sing of our victories." Anderei is trying to be optimistic.
"Their blood will sing us victory enough." Katapa states this as simple fact.
"These statues remind me of being a fruit picker on a plantation back when I was just a little young king, back with my family." Anderei's eyes are both reminiscent and sorrowful. "It was hard work. Bitter work. We were tired down to our bones. Even the children."
"They shouldn't make people work like that." Katapa've voice is sorrowful and understanding. "They shouldn't make children work like that. And not their mothers. Not their fathers. Not their parents and aunts and uncles and titis and friends."
"The Towerpeople don't care about children or families," I state honestly, "they don't care about anything but themselves."
Anderei and Lilith share a quick kiss, both of them looking to the other for support and healing. Katapa strokes my hair.
"How about you, Nancee?" she asks, "anything you need to get off your chest?"
"We're all ... we're all so used to working and seeing it from our point of view," I begin, introspective and thoughtful, "but we've never really seen it from the Towerpeople's perspective have we?"
My people hum in approval.
"It's strange. Seeing it the way they probably see it," I continue, "and it hurts."
"They are utilizing our suffering as an ego boost." Lilith's voice is full of resentment. And good for her. "They think that they're so much better than us wretched people. But joke's on them. We're better."
Katapa bursts into laughter. We look at her and start laughing as well.
"They can build all the statues they want." Her voice rings clear like water over smooth rocks. "But it won't change the fact that they're lazy and cruel. It won't change the fact that we're not."
"You're right Katapa," Anderei smiles, "and you always know what to say. Hopefully your words are enough to tide us over. We have to stay strong. Through everything, we have to stay strong."
"We will." I don't know where this optimism is coming from. But each of us is holding it and strengthening it and passing it on to the next person. "We have each other don't we? And we'll always have the love we share with each other even if they tear us apart."
We come together in a group hug. And everything hurts. And my grief drips thick and heavy through me, pulling at my muscles and tendons and bones. But we are, and I don't know how we are, but we are hopeful.
We keep in walking, through the gallery of horrors.
"What do you think of these, Katapa?" Lilith asks.
———
We eventually reach the massive polished ebony doors of the castle proper. They are heavy and several times larger than we are. There is a small window lined with metal that the thick platinum chain goes through. It's too high for us to be able to look in. Trepidation burns through me at this sight. It seems to burn through everyone except Lilith. Kata holds on even tighter to my waist.
"I think we can all agree not to knock," I say. Whatever is behind those doors, it's better for us to sneak up on them, better for us to have the element of surprise.
"Is it locked even? Do you think maybe we could just open it and walk right in?" Katapa's words are thoughtful, calculating. She has a point.
"Well there's one way to check," I say, taking the large shining rose-gold ring on the door, which is carved to look like two snakes eating each other. I pull and I pull but damn this door is heavy. But the rest of my friends also take the door handle and we throw all our weight into it. The door slowly, painstakingly inches open until there's enough room for a single person to squeeze through.
———
Damn everything here is so ostentatiously wealthy whatever lives here is a real snob.
Statues, statues, even more statues. Painted walls studded in jewels. That all depict the same fucking deeply degrading idea. It is dizzying.
There is a long, thick platinum chain that is coiled around all the statues, lining the walls, and stretching out for so long that, once again, we can't see the ends of it.
"Honestly, I'm scared," Katapa states. She's safe with us, we won't judge her, so she can say that. "I'm so full of rage and pain and hate that I absolutely do not give a single fuck though." Her voice is quiet. We all have to make sure to keep our voices quiet. We have had to ever since we came to this land.
"Same."
"Same.”
”Makes sense."
"If we can sneak up on the Fate who lives here that would be ideal. But how?" I pause to think.
"It's not like we know where the Fate is or have a way of hiding ourselves." Lilith looks around intently.
"We have to stay in the shadows, be quiet. If we can get closer to the Fate maybe we can spy a glance at them." I know my idea's not particularly good but it's the best option we have.
Nobody responds but we do hush up and head for cover near a damned forsaken sculpture.
We walk for hours on end, keeping our eyes and ears alert for anything out of place. It's stressful and pressing but we're used to being under stress. Everything about this castle is really incredibly wrong somehow. At least we have lots of cover.
We come across a throne. It is giant and incredibly ornate. I have never seen such extravagant seating arrangements, and that's saying a lot. We're ducked behind a statue so neither us nor whoever is on the throne can see the other particularly well.
"What should we do?" Lilith asks in a hushed voice.
"We need to sneak up on him," Kata whispers, "To trick him somehow. It's obvious he likes to be thought of as someone all high-up. Just look at his throne. Or his posture. Or even his statues. Let's make him believe that, have him revel in his superiority, and them strike the final blow or at least try."
"Yes. Two of us can go out and talk with him, distract him," I start, "and we could lure his vision away. Then, using the cover of the statues, two of us could sneak around to behind his throne. And, that chain thing is the perfect tool to help us climb up. It's so incredibly heavy and thick and all the gems are perfect footholds. And once we're the ones looming over him, we need a way to kill him. Something sharp, powerful."
"Like this?" Anderei carefully, carefully shimmies a spear out of one of the statues, leaving the warrior empty-handed. Katapa runs her finger lightly along the edge of the blade. For all its showmanship it is, in fact, razor-sharp. "We should probably strengthen it though." His voice is thoughtful. "Let's just hope that this works. If not ... no, it will work."
Everything is falling together perfectly. A spear from the land of the Fates is surely strong enough to kill a Fate, if aimed just right. Even still we do the ritual to strengthen the spear. The ritual we learned from church and scripture reading. It was their own mistake to teach it to us. We pass it around in a circle and infuse it with our rage and hate, our hope and love. Until it brims with energy. And it's sure to be enough.
"I think Nancee and Lilith are good with words, and more specifically with lies. They should be the distraction I think. Anderei and I are better on our feet than they are. We can sneak around the back. What do you guys think?"
We all stand there in silence,
"Well I quite like the plan," Lilith states.
"Same."
"It's worth a go," Anderei voices. "You're right, Lilith and Nan are very good with words. If anyone can distract the Fates it's them. They can do it. And we can deliver the killing blow."
"I'm terrified though."
"Me too."
"I'm sure we can do it you guys." Katapa's voice is measuredly calm.
And so we take deep, wavering breaths and give each other reassuring hand clenches. Decide what Lilith and I will say. I'll hate to go out and grovel again. But the Fate's face when he's finally defeated will be so worth it.
Please let this plan work. Please let it work. I don't know who I plead this to but I plead with all my being.
Lilith and I emerge from the shadows, heads hung low. Out of the corner of my eye I see a man dressed in rich furs and wearing a large crown. As we are walking the long expanse of hall that stretches before we arrive at the throne, we keep our postures meek and submissive.
"What filth dares to walk before me?" He bellows out into the room. Lilith and I hunch over even lower, not having to fake our terror but faking our submissiveness as hard as we can.
"We are deeply sorry, oh great lord and master," I say, making my voice as sweet and scared as I can, "we do not know how we came to be in such a glorious and indescribably upstanding magnificent revered hall such as this. We know we are not worthy even to be in your wondrous presence at all. And we are deeply sorry that we have created inconvenience upon your precious time. Oh great and glorious lord and master, you who are master of all, you who are the most exalted one, we know we are not worthy. With the utmost humility we beg of you to please tell us how you would like us to make it up to you." I feel like my mouth is filled with pond water. I'm speaking words I don't even know. What miracle is this? I stretch out my words as much as I can, especially during my words of praise. I think I bought them about two minutes.
"What do you measly dirtpeople trash think makes you worthy of being in my hall? I am a Fate. A God. I am the most glorious and I am the most high. You are less than dirt, less than worms."
"We know, oh great one, oh great Fate, oh great God, oh great ruler and controller of all that there is and all that there ever in all of eternity was and all that there ever in all of eternity shall be. We know that we are less than the dirt under your divine and devastating boot. We know that we are less than worms that crawl under the ground. We know that we are less than even the smoke in the evening air. We are but shadows to the light of your glory, and not even that. We know that we are but dark shades in contrast to the burning blazing of glorious sun that you are. We are beneath you in every single possible way. We realize this truth, oh great master. We definitely absolutely realize the truth that this is."
I repeat Lilith's words, except in an even longer and even more drawn-out and even more grovelling way.
"If you were to decide, oh most exalted and upstanding master, if it came upon you to decide, oh master who is worthy of the utmost and greatest reverence, oh master if it did come upon you to decide to dole out upon us a punishment for being brought here into this place, this most exalted and respect-worthy place in which we don't belong, if it did come upon you oh ruler of light and sound, if it came upon you to punish us, us who are not even worthy to look upon your straight and chiseled countenance. If it came upon you oh master to punish us measly and meager beings of shame and ruination, we would graciously and gratefully with the utmost gratitude accept whatever punishment you in all your wisdom and in all your all-encompassing knowledge see fit." Lilith keeps her eyes low as we walk towards the throne in an incredibly hurried pace. Oh universe this is so incredibly humiliating. Not that I haven't been humiliated before, I absolutely have. But still that doesn't do anything to change the fact.
Once again I repeat Lilith's words except with more flourish and more embellishment. I long for the sweet and precious moment when life drains out of this wretched god and we get to watch him be brought back down to earth. I long to see his blood all over his towering throne, to see the surprise and betrayal in his eyes once he realized what we've done.
But the sheer power, the power, the power emanating from him makes me feel as if we cannot defeat him in one glorious blow like we're hoping. I push these fears aside.
"You wretched slaves know your place, I'll give you that. You know your place far far underneath my power and you know how to keep your place. You don't know your place well enough though. Well, no dirty filth slave knows their place perfectly. It's in their nature to have no wisdom. It's in their nature not to know." His voice is filled with smugness and self-satisfaction, and with hatred for us. I hate voices like that. I've heard so so many voices like that over the course of my life.
"Yes oh most exalted oh most high oh most wise oh most knowledged one. It is you, oh lord and master, who have the most knowledge. ..."
We continue like that, with us singing him praises and singing ourselves depreciation, and himself doing the same in his bullshit smug voice.
We are at the throne and kneeling down in front of it now, we have been for a long while, with our heads hung low, on both knees.
"I must admit, it may take some time for me to figure out what to do with you, you grubby little maggots."
"Oh most great most glorious most wise most bountiful most knowledged most deserving most glorious most powerful most exalted most worthy most revered most magnificent most praised most praise-worthy ruler, and protector, oh most elevated lord and master, what would you have us disgraceful maggots do? What is it that you have chosen is to be your bidding?" I sincerely hope he dies soon. I'm so overwhelmed by the amount of power he extrudes that my heart doubts that will happen. But I push away those thoughts. Now is the time to be brave. For our kids. For all the new generations.
"You can start by licking my boots, perhaps. And then I have some more tasks planned for you." Ugh. Universe. I can't fucking believe this. I make sure to not let the disgust show on my face. A bit of it probably shines through but I doubt he's paying enough attention to notice.
We start crawling towards him with great trepidation but then a bolt of pure panic floods through us as we hear a rasping sound and a couple of screams. Oh dear universe. What happened?
"YOU TRAITORS!!!" he roars with so much power and so much force I start visibly trembling. Pure fear burns through me. I look up and see Katapa, my soulmate, and Anderei, my heart's brother, wrapped up in the thick metal chain. Their eyes are blown wide in terror. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? What the hell are we going to do now? I wish I could just stop existing. But no, we have to find a way somehow. Can we even? Maybe this is how we die. But I look around at my friends. And they're also overwhelmingly terrified. But they /see/ me. And I find in them some small sliver of strength. We'll survive. We might not win right here right now in this situation where we have no power. We might not win yet. But we can survive. If not our bodies then our spirits, our love, our souls can somehow hang on. We can keep going in some form or another, even if just barely. And for now, that's a victory in and of itself. That's what I feel when I look at my friends. They give me hope for survival, not just for me but for all of us slaves. Not a not-dying sort of survival. A deeper, more intrinsic, more hidden sort of survival that's not entirely about whether you're alive. I can't explain it.
"You vile treacherous filth have deceived me!" I can feel the waves of rage rolling off of him in my bones. "Do you truly think you can win against me?! Do you truly think you can defeat me?! I shall show you! I shall show you my power!" He raves while the chain moves to entrap all of us in a neat row, squeezing painfully hard and holding us down.
Fuck fuck fuck I'm so scared. That's a huge understatement. I cannot describe how scared I am. Fuck fuck fuck.
He glares at us, his eyes narrowed in somehow even more pure contempt than there was before.
"I will show you what you are," he says in a deceptively calm voice that doesn't really hide the buzzing, biting fury beneath it.
And all at one I feel my soul, my being, my very life force being pushed down and twisted and wrested until it is wrung out and in pieces. My sense of self, my sense of humanity, it is all being scratched and mauled. I feel like I am nothing. I feel like I am nothing. I feel like I am less than nothing. I feel like I am hollow. I feel like my insides are full of poison and I am drowning in it. I feel like I am full of stinging bees. I feel like I am nine years old again.
I am delirious. Barely hanging onto consciousness. I can grasp though, what he is doing to me. He is putting the full force of his hatred, his power, onto me. He is making me think of myself in the way he thinks about me.
All I can think of is /less, less,less./ Of how I am /less, less, less./ Of how I am less and it is just my purpose to be less and how it is just my purpose to be a shadow, nothing but a shadow, to those who selfishly hoard the light. I feel like I am nine years old again. But unlike then, there is nobody coming to make it a little tiny bit bearable. There is no part of my mind however weak that is able to hold on to my sense of self.
He is smug. His eyes are lit with amusement. Amusement at my pain. Of course.
I am falling, falling, falling.
Lower and lower and lower.
Under his boot, under his heel.
I am fading, fading, fading.
/Less than human./
/Not human./
Fading, fading, fading.
My soul is paralyzed.
I'm ready to give up.
I can't survive this, I just know I can't.
I fall deeper in this well of misery that's beyond misery. Too far gone, too far gone, too far gone.
I can't keep looking at him anymore. My gaze used to be transfixed but now I don't have the energy. My head falls back and I catch a glimpse of Katapa. She is also there, held down, wrapped up in thick heavy chains. The chains glint a dead sort of shine. But Katapa's dark face drenched in fevered sweat is somehow far more beautiful. The earth-brown of her eyes somehow shines in a much more profound way than the blue sapphire and green emerald. Than the silver platinum and the red ruby. Katapa is far prettier than any jewel could ever be.
Suddenly I'm in front of Andronicha. She's six years old. I remember this. She's talking about how much she doesn't know what to do when the towerpeople talk to her like she's nothing. She doesn't know what to do when they talk like that to her. And I see her leaning up against the wall. So broken. So passionate. Like a lost princess. Like a hero wounded and weary from innumerable battles. Like something far more than that either. She is so full of life, so full of childhood. And she is so so so incredibly beautiful. I remember how much I love her. And remember telling her that she knows I'm not and idiot. I remember telling her that I'm her Aunt Nan. And I think the world of her. And if I think the world of her, that's because she means the world.
I'm in front of Anderei and Lilith now. Katapa's holding my hand. I'm fourteen. Lilith's almost black hair dips down as she laughs. She's not laughing because anything is funny. She's laughing because she's so giddy. She's trying to explain how she kissed Anderei. How it was so beautiful. Anderei's eyes are shining with hope and a surreptitious sort of victory. Because the towerpeople want us to have nothing good and sweet and beautiful. But Lilith decided to kiss him and that was more good and sweet and beautiful than anything ever could be. And all of us revel in this victory.
I'm standing in front of Pavlin now. They are three. They ask me, /why do birds fly?/ I tell them I don't know. Their eyes are too large for their face. They are too full of wisdom. And they're not satisfied with my answer. They look up. And they stay that way for a moment, lost in thought, leaning into my chest. /If I know how they flied, I will fly./ I laugh lightly. It's so adorable the way they talk. They haven't quite gotten a grip on how language works. I stare at their curious, shining face. They are right now, not scared. Not as much as they normally are. That's good. They deserve to feel safe. I tell them that maybe one day in the future people will know how birds fly. They say maybe they'll help find out the answer.
Desiree passes me some herbs the field slaves gathered for our sick Andronicha. I thank her. Her wrinkle-edged brown eyes look worried. She looks over the sleeping forms of the kids. She says that she hopes that they will be healthy. That we all will. And I'm so grateful for her. She's like magic. More than magic. The field slaves that put their necks on the line to get us medicine are more than magic. I hope against hope that I can repay them somehow. Before she has to go, we share hopeful a smile.
I'm holding an infant Mafalia in my arms. Her big, dark, beautiful eyes stare up at me and are prettier than the moon, than the night sky around the moon. I press her softly, gently against my chest. Her warmth, it lights something in my heart. It makes me feel so protective. So bright. This baby is so full of life, so full of wonder, so full of love. She's precious. I treasure the moments I have with her. She's growing so fast. That's good though. The sweet precious baby isn't as healthy as she should be. But she's alive, she's here, and I'll hold onto what little blessings we have. Her teeny, tiny itty bitty chin has a little bit of drool on it, and on her tiny soft lips. I wipe it quickly with my hand. She coos. Her voice is so cute.
I am eighteen. Katapa has just kissed me. For the first time in our lives. She is smiling and the smile looks like burning sunlight on fresh winter snow it looks like a promise it looks like heaven. It feels so right being here with her. It felt so good, so right, to have kissed her. I know that our love is a good and beautiful thing, and it is a thing we both deserve.
Levi is five years old. He is giggling. I told him that if I could, I would give him a platter full of ice cream. I said that because, he had just delivered an ice-laden crate and he had wanted to try some. He approached me with stormy eyes and an unsure voice filled with childish longing, asked if he could have some ice cream. I made up a silly story about how I'd steal their ice cream and replace it with sand right as they were eating. He laughed. There was sadness in it. But there was brightness, like a summer breeze. He looks out into the blue sky. As if he is looking for a better world. I brush a hand through his messy hair. He thanks me for the story. He says he'll give his sibling and sisters the ice cream too. And me.
It's a few months ago. When we were still happy. Lilith is telling a bedtime story. She is so good at telling stories. I hold Mafalia in my arms. Katapa has Levi, Andronicha is with Anderei. and Lilith is holding Pavlin. The kids are just about to fall asleep. It's not peaceful, not when we're all so bone-tired. But still, I am among my people.
And I love them.
I think about all the slaves. In this world. And they're my people.
And I can't explain it but I love them.
And I'm back in the Fateworld, or whatever this is. And I am feeling like I'm nothing. But it's not quite so different from every day where I feel like I'm nothing. Because as much as I feel so small, so helpless, so invisible, so broken, so devoid of humanity, I have my people. And because I have my people, there's a part of my mind that reminds me that I'm not nothing, that I'm not a thing. That we're holy. And these two forces battle in me like they always do. And in the end, I can survive. I can still feel the Fate's smug hatred but I can feel my peoples' love and I can survive.
I look at my children's parents, all three of them. Try to give them as much strength as I can through my eyes and my expression, because my voice is still too weak to work. They do the same. Outrage and determination burn in Katapa's eyes. She is a warrior who fights with her mind rather than a sword.
"I am the greatest that there will ever be!" His booming words cut into my ears. "See this chain? It represents every single one that I'm better than. It represents all the ways that I am grand. It represents all the ways that I am powerful. And it represents all the worship and glory I deserve. This glittering, jewelry platinum is made up of my superiority itself. Nothing is larger than it, it stretches on onto eternity!" Oh so that's what we are being held down by. His ideas of superiority. How fitting.
I look at Katapa, she looks at me, and something like forged steel is in her face.
"I know something larger." She states calmly yet surely, the strength of a blizzard behind her composed tone.
"No. You don't. Filth." The certainty in his words are almost physically tangible, like hot tar dripping onto us. But holy fucking fuck my soulmate is brave.
"I know something that is bigger than your glory, greater than your pride." She is so defiant, so confident, it is an amazing sight to behold. She closes her eyes. And from the the centre of the place where her body meets her neck, there materializes this little epicentre of ... some strange energy. It is both the brightest light and the darkest darkness, and everything in between. It is so much, so much, so much. And it is so ...motherly. I feel so inately and intrinsically connected to it. It is ... I can't explain what it is. But it is none of the things that hurt me and feels like everything that could heal. It looks to be no bigger than my hand yet it feels so so big, not in size but in ... in some other form of measure.
"Kata..." Anderei stares wide-eyed at her.
"Look!" Her voice is so fierce. "This is the hope of the slaves. This is the self-respect that we inspire and build in each other. These are the hopes we dare not say out loud. This is the rage that ignites within us. This is our pride and it is stronger and better than your pride. Your pride is a bloated thing that can only grow fat on the gifts that every groveller gives it. Our hope has been attacked and cut and beat on for centuries and yet it remains. Our pride has had to fight the strongest of demons and the most fierce of beasts, every single moment of every single day, and no matter how weak it gets, it does not die. No matter how much it falls, it always rises. Our pride is bigger. Measure it yourself."
Damn. She's so right.
And the Fate is seething in rage. Even how, his pride and my pride fight inside me. And yet still my pride is winning. It's bloody, it's bruised, but it's winning.
"That pathetic thing is so small. It shall never outmatch my grand gold chain. Watch, I don't even have to unentangle you and still my chain would be longer when aligned with your little drop of water. And when you see how pathetic and small and weak the hope of the slaves' is, you shall see that it is only appropriate to bow down at my feet. But before you get the chance to even do that, I shall put you in my deepest dungeons."
Katapa cringes, but continues staring him down like a lion, as he plucks the energy buzzing close to her breast. Immediately he lets out a terrible scream as it burns and frosts his hand, both at once. Somehow. He resorts to using his great shining cane to hold it. He lines it up next to the chain of his pride. And though the little dewdrop is so small, it is somehow larger than the infinite chain. Though it could quite obviously fit into Katapa's hand, it stretches on farther and farther and farther than the thick, heavy band.
He looks incredulous, crazed, and more importantly, terrified. His crowned head is still high in the air, his nose still pointing up. But his eyes look so so fucking lost.
"This is just - this is just because - because it's so coiled and twisted and draped around everything. I will show you filth! I will show you and you will see. Let me straighten this out so that I can let you behold the truth." Looking visibly disturbed, he shakes his head and the chain lets us go. We thud onto the ground, bodies aching from being held down and from hitting the floor. The chain is too wrapped in statues to straighten itself properly though. He looks frantic, and immediately gets to moving the heavy metal off of one of the statues with his magic. His concentration is not on us at all anymore. He is gone somewhere behind the rows and rows of statues, working his magic to untangle the chain. It's funny almost.
Lilith's dark eyes burn with fire, seeming blacker than raven feathers in this strange light. She seems to be both deep in thought and waiting for something.
Anderei smiles. Almost in an amused way. But, not amused at us. Amused at the Fate and how absolutely abjectly foolish the universe's supposed author is.
"Guys!" Katapa's soft interjection cut into our trance-like state. "I know we want to revel in his comedy but don't we need to run?"
Want was always surpassed by need. That was the way of things. You wanted to rest but that was surpassed by your need to work. You wanted to run away but that was surpassed by your need to stay. You wanted to yell at the towerpeople but that was surpassed by your need to be submissive. You wanted to hold the children in your community and tell them stories but that was surpassed by your need to keep fucking working. You wanted to scream but you needed to be quiet. You wanted to kill your owners, almost. You wanted food but you needed to power through the hunger. You wanted to dance but you needed to keep scrubbing. You wanted warmth but you had to keep existing while wearing thin frayed clothes. You wanted peace but you needed to push yourself into the screaming abyss. You wanted comfort but you had to keep going through your screaming body. You wanted a lot but you needed to shut your mouth, grit your teeth through the pain, and keep working, working, working like insanity personified. You wanted to do something about this. But you needed not to. Because they could and would kill your loved ones if you didn't comply. You wanted so much but you couldn't have any of it, could you?
I'm done with all this suppressing.
"Nancee darling, are you okay?" and Katapa's words are so sweet and sincere as she says darling.
"I can't take it anymore."
"Darling I know. But we need to escape him right now. Do you think we're strong enough to take him?"
I think about this for a moment. No, we're not strong enough to fight a towerperson - Fate or non-Fate - head on. Yet. But we're good at surviving. That seems almost tragic to me for a second.
"Nancee?" It's Aderei's soft, unassuming voice that says this to me right now. And his eyes, his eyelashes, his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, everything shines as if they're bathed in morning twilight. His attention is on me but it does not pin me down, does not scare me. It gives me strength and lets me know I'm not alone. And I remember what we're striving for, in our miserable excuses of lives.
"We're on the verge of something beautiful. Don't... don't you feel it coursing through your heart?" Lilith tilts her head up at the sky for a bit. She's flowing with an almost electric sense of hope.
Hope. That's why we try to survive. That's why we push ourselves into the grating strain of our lives. Because we know that one day there will be change.
"We're so close," I say though I don't know whether I say it to my comrades or to myself. We're so close to winning. We're so close to that hope becoming tangible.
Just a little bit more hiding ourselves and then we'll be able to say it to their faces.
"Are you even paying attention, dear? Lass, we have to /go./" Kata's voice is urgent but not pushing.
"Yes. Let's get out of here."
We make a run for it, bare feet barely making a sound on the cold polished tile. Away from this hall of horrors. Dark little birds in flight amidst a screaming carnival of degradation.
We slip out the door and keep running, the sky stretching above us. We slip out the broken-down piece of wall and keep running, the grass stretching under our feet.
"Yes." I hear Lilith say under her breath, in a determined way.
"Yes." Anderei echoes in a triumphant way.
"Yes." I say in a tentatively airy way.
We do not stop running. His hatred, his judgement, it still clutches at our throats and chips at our hearts. But we remember Katapa's bravery. Her silent, unyielding confidence. And it helps us go on.
The Fate is still in his castle, stretching and straightening his gleaming pride, trying to make it surpass the tiny-looking pride of the slaves. And no matter how much he pulls and stretches his ego, it cannot become larger than the little firefly that is the pride and camaraderie slaves have with each other.
We only bought ourselves time. He will eventually realize that we are missing and come after us. But because of our own flickering pride we can, we can continue. We have hope.
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