The ceiling is white. It’s a very smooth, uniform white, like marble. Not the granular tiling of my ceiling. I inhale, then exhale. In, out. In, out. I have been abducted. In, out. In, out. Can I even pay a ransom? In, out. In, out. I look to my right. A wall. A very nice wall. I think that’s a tapestry at the end of my line of sight. The wall itself is a stone I don’t recognize. It’s smooth and blueish-white. I look to my left, and freeze in shock. The room is massive. This bed is pressed up against the right hand wall, so I couldn’t really see it before, but damn. It’s like a quarter of a football field here.
So whoever abducted me is rich. That means they probably don’t need a ransom. Rich druggie kidnaps and strips a kid. Sex trafficking ring. Bloody fuck, I’m in a sex trafficking ring. Out, out, out, out, in, out, in, out, in, out. I get off the bed. No restraints. Are they feeling that secure? Why would they give a whole room to someone they’re going to sell? Plus, why would they target me? I’m not the most handsome person around. Barely above average. Unknown reasoning. Okay. Okay. In, out. In, out. Out, out, out, out, why are my hands so pale, out, out, out, out, my fingers are painted, out, out, out, wheeze. In, out, in, out, in, out. I take a tottering step towards the elegant wooden door on the other side of the room, before my feet collapse underneath me. I bite back a scream of pain, and look down. Out, out, out, my legs are shaved, out, out, out, stop. In, out, in, out. I reach back, and brush my hair. I stop. That didn’t feel normal. My hair is very stiff, and is extremely resistant to any form of combing. This feels like silk in my hands. I turn around and look at the bed. My leg has slowed its throbbing, so I gingerly push myself up onto the bed. If I was sleeping here, some hair would have probably fallen on this mattress. I toss the pillows to the side. Aha! Found i- Out, out, out, out, it’s blue all the way up from the root, out, in, out, in out, in, out. I have no idea what’s going on. I really don’t think I can find answers by staying here, though. I crawl my way off the bed, having learnt my lesson the first time, and make my way to the door. Damn, my knee hurts. Oh well, I guess. There’s a mirror near the side of the wall- who the fuck is that?! I spin around, but there’s no one behind me.
No.
I slowly turn around.
No.
I put my hand up to my face, and watch the pale, blue eyed boy in the mirror do the same. My eyes widen. As if in cruel mockery, the mirror’s expression matches my own. This time, I’m not able to bite back the scream.
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I’m sipping some sort of liquid I have no idea how to identify. I’ve essentially given up at this point. If whoever kidnapped me has the ability to alter bodies, I’m well and truly fucked. There is nothing I can do. A saddening realization, for sure. The people I think are maids and butlers whiz around me, checking up on my knee and asking me questions. They seem to think I’m a noble heir of some sort. I can’t really bring myself to respond to their questions, though.
Tap, tap, tap. Someone is coming towards this room. I look up, expecting to see another maid enter, but instead the door opens to reveal a middle aged woman. She looks quite sleep deprived, and has deep blue eyes and hair. Like me now, I guess. She dashes towards me and starts babbling incoherently. I’m able to make out a few words, like stone and capital and Tezro, but I really can’t put them together. Eventually, the maids pull her to her feet, and they move to a different corner of the room. I can’t make out what they say. They seem to come to an agreement, and the middle-aged woman leaves the room, followed by two maids. I do wonder what they were sayi-
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Ooric. She said Ooric, not stone. Out, out, out, out, out, she didn’t say capital, she said enlante, out, out, out. The butlers left behind grab me. One seems to be telling me to breathe. But I can’t. They weren’t speaking English. They still aren’t speaking English, but I can understand them perfectly. I’m monolingual. There is no possible way I should be able to understand them right now. I double over, wheezing and coughing. I think I spit up a little blood. Not too much. It’s like a couple drops at most. Wow, these blood drops are forming a little circle on the floor. I look at my reflection in the blood, and I black out.
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The next time I wake up, I feel a lot calmer about everything. If whoever kidnapped me can fuck with my mind like this as well as my body, then there’s nothing I can trust. That’s it. I’m done. All I can do is fulfill the role this person wants me to fulfill. So I’m a noble now, huh? I squeeze out a small smile. Aw, my eyes are getting blurry. I think I’m crying. Fuck. If this were a chess game, I’d be a single pawn fighting a board of 16 queens. I want to see my mom again, because I know I’ll never see her again. I want to see my dad. I want to see my friends. I want, want, want, but it will never happen. Never again.
Fuck.
A shout of alarm rings out. One of the maids from before is standing near me. I think she just noticed I was awake. People come close to me, including a man in a reddish-brown coat. He asks me how I’m feeling. I tell him I feel like shit. I think a few gasps rang out. The butler next to me whispers to me that that wasn’t proper conduct. Proper? I gotta be proper? That sounds disgusting. Ew. But I guess I gotta do it.
Because I have no choice anymore.
My crying intensifies. The butler steps back, looking shaken. The guy in the red coat asks about my knee, but I don’t really want to answer, so I don’t. The guy frowns. In one swift motion, he pulls out a small rubber hammer and smashes my knee with it.
“Fuck!”
My ringing shout must have made it all the way to hell. I think that might be the highest pitch I have ever screamed. Everyone winces and takes a step back.
“Now answer my questions. Did that hurt?”, asked red coat guy, who I will now dub as Go Fuck Yourself.
“Nope, that didn’t hurt at all. Not even a little. As you can clearly tell from my fu- from my scream,” I say, catching myself in the nick of time.
“What an ill-mannered brat,” drones Go Fuck Yourself.
“Well, I’m not the one who smashes hammers into people’s knees,” I retort. Perhaps this isn’t the correct course of action. I should probably be making an effort to be more polite. Polite, polite, polite…
“Well, I’m going to do it again. I want you to rate the pain from one to ten, where one is no pain, and ten was that scream from earlier.” He smacks my knee, much gentler this time.
“Four.”
“Your knee seems to be healable. Leave it be for a couple days after this.” What an in-depth examination. Bravo to the well learned doctor we got here. Go fuck yourself, Go Fuck Yourself. Wait, after this? After what? He places his gloved hand on my knee. Before my disbelieving eyes, my wound reknits itself closed in about thirty seconds.
“Plenty of proper rest should finish what I’ve started. Keep him still for five minutes for the healing to finish guiding recovery, and limit movement for an hour.” He stands up and leaves, followed by two butlers. I’m still processing what just happened. My knee is healed now. It’s closing.
“The Chosen of Aperagus really is something else, huh?”, a maid remarks to another.
Aperagus? Aperagus?! The Avrol god of healing, Aperagus?!
Terzin...Avrol...Aperagus… I know how the dots connect, but I really, really don’t want to connect them. Couldn’t it be anything else? Unlikely. Tech this complicated would’ve leaked somehow into the wider world unless it were a prototype, yet this doesn’t seem like any sort of typical prototype test. So, this really could be…
“Avrol...”