All eyes were on me.

The guards, the kneeling male slaves, and most noticeably, the woman on the throne, presumably a queen of some sort.

I shifted uncomfortably on my knees, gazing up at her, feeling her eyes glaring down at me. She had a commanding air about her as she leaned forward in her chair, a slight look of interest on her face. She began to question me, but unable to understand what she was saying, I kept silent. After she had asked a few questions the brown haired guard who had led me to the room spoke up. The queen turned her attention to the guard, narrowing her eyes as the two of them conversed, flashing occasional glances in my direction. I tried to pick out anything understandable but it was all gibberish to me. The words “boord” and “boordo” seemed to repeat, as well as the world “nelak”, though I had no idea of their meaning. It was clear whatever they were discussing it had to do with me.

The conversation continued for some time, my knees and back starting to ache as my legs dug painfully into the hard wood floor. I tried shifting position, moving to sit on my legs a bit to alleviate the pain, but was hit with the side of a spear. I let out a loud yelp and quickly knelt back in position again. My cry of pain seemed to amuse my captors, who broke into fits of giggles. Even the male slaves laughed. I fumed with anger but moved my eyes down to the floor, trying to focus on blocking out the pain.

After the laughter died down the queen squinted hard at me, staring at me appraisingly. An uncomfortable silence followed before she called out a command, which at first I thought was for me. Instead, a response came from a woman to the right of me with long chestnut hair standing by a doorway to another room. I turned my attention for a moment, seeing her give a slight bow and leave the room. The queen’s eyes lingered on me a bit longer, looking me over before leaning back in her chair.

The room was silent for a moment. I swallowed hard, wondering what was to happen to me. Letting me go free was obviously not an option. I would have to find a way to escape. As I pondered how I might accomplish this the chestnut-haired woman returned, followed by a petite looking girl with long red hair wearing not short animal skins, but a flowing white silken robe. Unlike the other women in the room who conveyed strength, she had a soft, delicate, feminine appearance. She carried a white clay bowl in her hands. Approaching the queen, she bowed deeply and addressed her. The voice of the girl in white was gentle in contrast to the commanding voices I had been hearing. The queen nodded gently at the girl and pointed at me. With a soft curtsy to the queen, she turned toward me and approached.

I looked up at her as she approached. The guard behind me nudged me to rise, and I did so gingerly. My body was sore and stiff from kneeling, which caused me to wobble a bit. This elicited more laughter from the room. The girl smiled, yet her eyes gave me a sympathetic look as she held out the bowl to me. I could see inside the bowl as the smell reached me, and I realized for the first time it was food. It was a milky-colored thick liquid, almost like a soup, and had a slightly sweet odor. My stomach rumbled instinctively and I eagerly reached for it. A blonde-haired guard behind me slapped my hand away.

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“Masu”, The guard said.

I looked at them blankly.

“Masu?” I asked. All I wanted was to eat. I stared at them blankly.

The guard nodded, inclining her head towards the girl. “Masu”, she said again.

I looked at the girl. “Masu”, I said.

The guard nodded again. The girl in white smiled sweetly, handing me the bowl. I raised it to my lips, taking a drink. The liquid in it was warm and thick, like a creamy soup with a slight sweetness to it. I closed my eyes, feeling relief wash over me as it warmed my body. I would later learn that masu was the customary word for a request used by the only lowest in the village. It has a connotation of both “please” and “I’m so pathetically low I don’t deserve even to ask this of you” put together.

The girl waited patiently for me to finish, her hands folded in front of her in a graceful fashion. While I originally thought one bowl might not be enough, the food was surprisingly filling. After finishing the bowl I handed it to back the girl. “Thank you”, I said. The girl nodded, tilting her head gently at me. I watched her as she left the room. The fact that my eyes lingered a bit too long on her swaying figure was not lost on the two men sitting by the throne. As they began laughing and pointing at me the female guards around the room joined in with them, mocking me. Some of them mimicked me by pretending to stare in an exaggerated way to the entertainment of the others. The queen gazed on me with a bemused smirk, but otherwise kept her composure as my face flushed with embarrassment.

The room was suddenly silenced as a short older woman arrived, led into the room from outside. She had on simple red and white robes made of a cotton-like material. Her long grey hair was unkempt, and fell down her face wildly as she hunched over, leaning on a cane. The queen stood is if to greet the old woman as a respectful hush fell on the room. Motioning for her to come to the center of the room, the queen pointed at me and said something again involving the word “nelak”. I began to wonder if that word referred to me.

The old woman moved towards the center of the room, waving her hands energetically, as she gave instructions to various women who were standing around. The women promptly left, returning with towels, various liquids, a large black pot with a pedestal to place it on, and other unrecognizable items which they set up in the center of the room. Soon a fire was lit on the platform and the pot was placed on top.

I was nudged towards the pot. As I moved to stand beside it the guards retreated to the edges of the room, murmuring softly among themselves. The old woman moved towards the pot across from me as the room grew once again silent. Placing various items inside it she started to chant various words in a soft, yet somewhat shaky musical voice. As the contents of the pot heated up, smoke begin to billow upward, filling the room with a thick blue colored haze, which shifted to green, and then to a yellowish color.

The colored haze smelled like an odd mix of spices and made me feel sick and dizzy. I felt myself swaying. The women at the edges of the room all started to hum one continuous tone as the old woman continued her chant. Sparks started to fly out of the pot of various colors, flashing with brilliant purple, green, and orange light. “Was this magic?”, I asked myself, my head swimming with dizziness. The room spun around me as everything started to blend into a giant blur. Finally the old woman stopped chanting. “Nelak! Nelak!” she cried out. Those were the last words I heard before passing out.