Eighteen years ago.

Servilia carefully worked the sliver of wood under her toenails, teasing out the dirt and grime that had accumulated from the days walk. The thick, heavy chains that hung around her arms and legs threatened to drag her down to the ground and into the sweet escape that only sleep could offer, but she refused to fall. Not until she finished her grooming. A few feet away she heard one of the others mutter something under their breath. She ignored them.

She knew how they felt. They thought of her nightly primping as a pathetic attempt to cling to civility. A relic of a life she no longer had. It was an accusation that she had no power to argue against. Like them, she was nothing. A slave. To be traded and sold. But even so, she would not become like the rest. She would not break. She would never give any of them the satisfaction of seeing her crack.

These little chores, chores that she had once scoffed at, they kept her alive. They kept her grounded. They kept her human. She would never give up to the monsters that put her in these chains. The beasts that scorned and spit on her.

She could see it in the soulless eyes of her companions. Their will was long shattered. The hope in their hearts, crushed under the heels of their captors. It was clear from the way they bowed their heads as the masters walked by, cowering at their smallest movements.

It made her sick to see such proud people so broken. To see the flame of hope extinguished so cruelly.

A scream brought her blue eyes over to the master's tent. From the shadows playing off the lamplight, she could see them beating one of the slaves. Why, she did not know, and she doubted an answer would leave her with any less of a sick feeling in her belly. The entire camp went silent, save for the gut wrenching sounds of the abuse. Servilia didn't bother looking at the others, but she knew what they were doing. What they always did. They turned away from the violence. Some stared dejectedly at the ground, others wept silently to themselves, but none watched.

Servilia watched and she did not look away. Fingers clenched into a tight fist she watched the entire scene play out. Watched as the figures inside struck their victim again and again and again, even long after merciful death had come for the unfortunate soul.

She fell asleep without realizing it. Never once looking away from the violence. Embedding it deep in her mind. Imprinting the moment on her soul next to the rest.

No, she would not break.

She would wait.

She would survive.

She would see them all dead.

xXx

"The little ones are slowing us down."

The one Servilia knew to be named Trives spoke loudly from his horse. It was midday and the harsh desert sun was beating down relentlessly, only serving to drive his short temper even shorter. Servilia watched as he turned his pointed face towards the group before his eyes settled on her. He was a thin man, with thinner, greasy grey hair. It disgusted her to have his eyes on her, but she didn't look away, meeting his slimy gaze. He spat on the ground and directed his horse over beside her in the line.

"You got something to say?" he growled down at her. When Servilia didn't answer he lashed out his foot and caught her in the chest. The young girl was sent crashing to the ground, but she did not cry out. In complete silence she rose back up to her feet and stared at her captor with unbridled hatred in her eyes.

The line came to a halt as Trives dismounted.

He towered over Servilia but she showed no signs of fear. Snarling, he backhanded her, his large fist connecting with her cheek. The blow sent her staggering back, but Trives didn't let her get far, grabbing her roughly by the hair. He pulled her back to her full height and bent over, shoving his ugly face only inches from hers.

"I asked you a question, slave." His putrid breath was hot against her face. A dribble of blood began to drip from the corner of her mouth from where he had struck her. He gave her a savage grin. "So, you don't talk? That's probably for the best. They don't like the mouthy ones. Talk to much and you might get your tongue cut out of that pretty little head of yours." He laughed. His men echoed the wrenched noise. The slaves remained silent, doing their best to stay unnoticed.

"Maybe if you're lucky, a nice, well to do family will buy you." Trives continued. "Maybe they make you a nice little servant girl. Dress you up all pretty, and have you serve them all day, every day, until you die. But I don't think you'll be that lucky. Maybe you'll be sold to one of them. Oh girl, you best pray you don't get sold to them. The things they'll do to you… You'd wish I killed you right here and now. You're lucky that I'm in such a generous mood, I'll let you off if you just apologize."

"You're a coward." Servilia said. Her voice, loud and clear, traveled over the silent company. She narrowed her eyes and looked at the others. "Every one of you. Cowards. Bastards. Pathetic, vile creatures. Filth. Scum." Her eyes fell back on Trives "But none of them are as pathetic as you."

A small laugh snuck from one of the guard's lips. Trives turned on the man and silenced him with a glare. Blood pounding in his ears, he turned back on Servilia and raised his fist. Her refusal to flinch, to cower, to show any fear, only enraged him more. He could feel the eyes of his men watching him, judging him.

"You little bitch!" he roared as his fist swung towards her face, only to have his hand suddenly wrenched back by the sudden crack of a whip. The leather wrapped tightly around his wrist and nearly pulled him off balance.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"What?" Trives roared, turning on the man who stopped him. He pulled his hand free. "This is none of your business, Sanron."

"The girls will fetch the highest price, that one included. That makes this my business. She's not worth a damn to me dead, and any damage done will result in a loss of profit," Sanron answered calmly. He was a very tall man. Imposing, with a thick brow and thicker jaw. "You touch another one of them, it will come out of your share. You've already lost gold after your little episode last night, I doubt you can afford to lose any more."

Trives stared up at Sanron and his hand twitched towards the knife on his belt. Sanron casually rested his hand on his own weapon, daring Trives to make the first move. Seconds ticked by before Trives let out a grunt and dropped his hands.

"You got lucky today, girl." Trives bared his teeth at Servilia. "But just you wait, you will get what's coming to you."

"As will you," Servilia replied softly. Trives froze, before spitting on the ground in front of her and turning back to his horse.

"A wise choice," Sanron said, casting an eye over the line of slaves as Trives returned to his horse. This batch would bring a large amount of profit. Combined with the haul from Dumas and Voy, it would be enough to get him an extended stay away from the moronic filth like Trives and his small band of cutthroats. They would no doubt be back on the road long before him, their money wasted away on drink and whores.

He detested working with such unprofessional individuals.

It was almost comical to Sanron that, if pressed, he would likely admit he found the slaves to be more favorable company when compared to his fellow slavers. The thought brought an amused smile to his face. This thought was still in his mind as an arrow whistled through the air and pierced through his chest. In shock, he reached up to grab the shaft protruding from his chest when another caught him in the throat with enough force to send him careening off his horse and to the rocky ground below.

"The Hell?" Trives said as he turned to look at the fallen body. He turned back to his men, only to watch two more fall, arrows protruding from their skulls. Eyes wide, he threw himself off his horse, narrowly avoiding being killed himself as an arrow whizzed past him.

"Behind the slaves!" he roared as another one of his men dropped from his horse as an arrow struck him. He spasmed pathetically on the ground, gurgling as blood filled his lungs before death finally claimed him.

The remaining three men managed to reach Trives, relatively safe behind their human wall.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Shuttup." Trives hissed, drawing his knife. The blade was jagged, with razor sharp teeth protruding at random. A weapon meant to rip and tear. Meant to maim and injure. Meant to cause pain and suffering.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly stepped out into the open, leaving his blade resting against the throat of the nearest slave. The young man whimpered, but did not move as the blade kissed his flesh.

"You come out here!" Trives bellowed. "You come out here, or we'll kill every one of these slaves. You won't make even a handful of coins stealing dead bodies!"

"Steal?" Trives spun to the side as what appeared to be dune of sand suddenly fell away into nothing more than a piece of cloth. Holding it, along with a long bow, stood a thin woman with greying hair and olive skin. She lifted up her bow hand and pointed it at him. "You would accuse me of stealing? You, who steals children from their beds and sells them to the highest bidder?"

Trives narrowed his eyes, taking in her appearance. "You're a Tejkin. What are you doing in Romiatii?"

"You're a Verlan, yet here you are as well," she answered him before pointing to Sanron's corpse. "That man was from Voy, and another in your company is from Dumas."

Trives felt a knot form in his stomach. There was only one reason anyone would know that much information and come here alone. "What's your name?"

"You may call me Jiana."

"Why are you here?" Trives tightened his sweaty fingers around his weapon. "Are you a Hunter?"

"I am here for them," Jiana said, ignoring the question. "Give them to me, and you may leave."

"That's a lie and you know it!" Trives yelled. His hand shook and the blade dug into his hostage's neck. The sudden, sharp pain caused him to flinch away. In the moment of separation, as Trives turned his head and reached for the retreating slave, Jiana nocked her last arrow and let it fly.

Trives screamed as the arrow sunk into his shoulder and sent him falling back to the ground, the weapon dropping from his fingers.

"Kill her!" he shouted as he rolled in pain. "Kill that bitch, now!"

His men hesitated for a moment, before the bravest of the group charged forward, his sword held high above his head. The other followed suit, their war cries echoing over the empty terrain. Jiana waited patiently for them, slowly slipping the bow over her shoulder and drawing a long, single edged sword. She held it out towards them, the thin, straight blade reflecting the sunlight. Just as they came into striking distance, she rushed forward.

Blood gushed and limbs were severed as she swept through the men with ease. The blade flashed in the bright sun as she dispatched her attackers in clean, precise movements. Her face was a mask of calm and indifference as the bodies dropped around her.

As the last one fell, silence once again filled the landscape, save for the heavy, pained breathing of Trives. In the time it took his men to fall to Jiana's blade, he managed to find his feet. Drool dribbled from his lips as he bent low to recover his weapon, his legs unsteady. His shaky finger just brushed the hilt when a small hand suddenly snatched the weapon away. Lifting up his head, he stared at Servilia. With unblinking eyes, she stared right back, the knife held between them.

"Give that here, girl," Trives grit out. He reached for Servilia, but she took a step back.

"I said, give that here!" Trives lunged at her but came to an abrupt halt as something struck him from behind. Mouth agape and hands still outstretched towards Servilia, he looked down at the bloody blade that had pierced through his chest from behind. He blinked once, twice, and then slid forward, the blade pulling free from his body as he slammed to the ground.

Dead.

Servilia stared at his body for what felt like an eternity. The, suddenly heavy, weapon in her hand slipped from her numb fingers and she slowly dropped down her knees. Her malnourished frame begin to shake and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?" Jiana asked as she dropped down to Servilia's level. The young girl shook her head quickly, the tears continuing to fall. Wiping a dirty sleeve across her face, she looked up at her savior's face, unable to contain her smile.

"You're here to save us, aren't you?" Servilia asked, her heart swelling with hope.

"Of course," Jiana answered as though it were the simplest thing in the world. She lifted her head towards the others. "Free yourselves, and tend to your wounds. We will be leaving here soon. There is a transport that will meet us in the next town over. You will be returned home. Those of you that do not have a home to return to are welcome to accompany me back to Voy. I cannot offer you much, but I do promise you fair work and a safe place to sleep." She turned her kind face down to Servilia. "That offer, of course, is extended to you as well. If you wish it."

Servilia didn't answer as she launched herself into Jiana. Though surprised, Jiana reacted instantly, wrapping her arms around the young girl. Behind them, the others began to mill about the dead, finding the keys to their shackles and freeing themselves, most still in shock over the sudden turn of events.

"Why?" Servilia whispered as she clung to the rough fabric of Jiana's cloak. "Why did you save us?"

"Don't you know?" Jiana said as she slowly stood up, keeping a comforting hand on Servilia back. She looked over the group with a small smile on her face. "A Dragon never leaves a child in peril."