Ryder Black huddled under the blanket, wrapping it around himself and over his head, trying to shelter himself from the rain. The little black woman had attached his collar and chain to a bronze ring outside the door when three guests had come over, telling Ryder to stay on the swaying porch before shutting the door.
The rain dripped off the makeshit hood he'd managed to fashion with a fold in the blanket, ran down his skin inside the blanket, and in general, made him shiver with the cold. His chest ached with heartburn and he kept getting warm tingles in his arms and legs, which made the cold all the worse when the tingling subsided.
Boots stepped up onto the hanging platform, stopping in his sight. Feet smaller than his hand clad in heavy leather boots, black metal on the toes and heels.
"Did Mistresses Weeli leave you out here, little Xue'nghozi?" a melodic voice asked.
"Yeth," Ryder slurred, the barb jabbing the roof of his mouth. He looked up, straight into the pale violet eyes of one of the little black people. He jerked back, surprised by how close to him she was standing. Almost nose to nose. All he could see within the darkness of the hood was a pair of luminious violet eyes with cat-like pupils.
"Well, that won't do," the little woman said. "I can't understand you, but I know misery when I see it," the woman stated. She made a curt motion. "Get the chain. Matron Plevan was correct in sending us here."
Two smaller ones moved forward, lifting up slightly as if suspended on a invisible cloud. After a moment Ryder felt the two chains attached to his collar loosen.
"If you would follow me, little Xue'nghozi," The woman said, turning around and walking away. Two smaller cloak and hood covered flanked her, one per side, as she apparently glided across the cobbles in the rain.
"Come, bonded one," one of the smaller ones said, stepping off the platform and tugging gently. The other one was silent, copying the motion.
Ryder hung his head, wrapped the cloak around himself, and stood up. The two small women let the slack play out so that the chain didn't pull at him as he rose to his full height. He still stared down as he stepped off the porch, stumbling slightly, and followed the two small women.
What did white supremacy and Western colonialism do to them that they hate me so much? Ryder wondered.
Ryder was led down the road, the carts passing on either side. Over a hundred went by, the animals pulling them along even though their eyes were closed and their muzzles were in feed bags. Each of them had hanging lights with different colors, sometimes there were people standing on the back porches, other times Ryder could hear laughter, voices, and the clinking of silverware from the wagons.
The women were silent, just gliding over the cobbles, until the larger one suddenly turned and stepped onto the back swinging porch of a large wagon that took up two rows. It reminded Ryder of the cargo and community area wagons.
The two holding her chains guided him onto the platform. The three other women, the two smaller ones flanking the larger one, turned and faced him.
Ryder was too sunk into his misery to notice that the chains holding the deck in place were much thicker than the others he had seen so far, made of thick heavy rune graven bronze rather than steel or iron. The runes were inlaid with precious metals and heavy copper wire was threaded through the links.
"Remove that trash he is wrapped in," the woman said, waving her gloved hands.
Ryder looked up, fear surging up inside of him at being stripped. It was then he saw the two massive suits of armor, standing in alcoves on either side of a carved and inlaid door. Naked blades with ornate scrollwork lit by an inner fire were held by each armored figure.
"It is offensive that he was clad so," The woman finished.
Ryder knew better than to struggle, knew it would only bring a painful shock if he resisted. He stood as one of the small women lifted up into thin air, pulling the hood of the cloak back.
"His hair is dishelved," The larger woman tskd.
The other two pulled the cloak off Ryder's shoulders, letting it fall around his feet. One of the ones flanking the other woman stepped forward, kicking it off the platform with one boot, making a noise of disgust as she did so.
Ryder wanted to cover himself, hide the fact the only thing covering him was a narrow loincloth.
"Remove that debris from his loins. It is disgusting that he would be garbed so," The woman said.
The small woman on Ryder's left reached forward, her gloved hand extending from her sleeve holding a sharp, glowing knife that had runes all over the bronze blade. Runes that twisted and glowed with an inner light. Ryder tensed up, afraid of being sliced, but the blade whispered out, slicing through the cord around his waist, looping quickly, and catching the cloth before it fell further than a handspan. With a noise of disgust much like the larger one had made, she flicked it off the the side of the platform where it vanished into the dark and rain.
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Ryder felt tears come to his eyes as the woman stared at him. The red fire pulsed slowly under his skin, blossoming over his sternum, fading as the light spread across his body in a runic pattern before fading away right before it pulsed again over his sternum. Some of the patterns lit up with gold for a breath, or a different shade of red.
"Titan sparked. Mage fired," the larger woman said. "But he is war fired and he should have been entrusted to us before this," she motioned again. "Remove those crude bindings. I find them distasteful."
Ryder held still as the jewelry was removed from his forearms, biceps, and ankles, tossed off the porch and into the dark rain.
The light swelled briefly under his skin, flooding the patterns.
"We shall leave the collar. That is for another to remove, not us," The woman said.
There was murmurs that Ryder didn't quite hear as the larger one turned around, moving up the thick wide steps to the door. She placed her gloved hand on a brass plaque and it lit with runic pattern. When she removed her hand the door seemed to dissolve into glittering dust.
"Come, Ryder Tristan Black," The woman motioned. Ryder recoiled slightly at the proper pronunciation of his name. It felt like ghostly fingers had reached into his chest and plucked at something deep inside. "You are welcome here."
Ryder felt a flutter of fear as he followed the small woman into the massive wagon. The smell of strange incense and other scents washed over him. The floor was tiled, warm beneath his feet, the grooved patten oddly comfortable against his bare sole.
He looked back just in time to see the other two enter and the dust suddenly rise up and solidify into the inlaid door.
It was dim inside but Ryder's eyes quickly adjusted to the light.
Large suits of armor were on either side. The suits were slumped slightly, the helmets tilted slightly forward as if the occupants were sleeping. To Ryder's eyes, more than a few looked as if they were inhaling and exhaling slowly, the chests rising and falling despite the fact that they were solid metal.
"Come, Ryder Black," the woman said, heading deeper into the wagon.
Ryder was surprised that none of the five women undressed, merely gliding deeper into the wagon's interior. Rather than the twinkling odd little "magic" lights, the wagon was lit by braziers carefully covered with wire mesh. Twice Ryder thought he saw a cloaked figure in the shadows but each time when he tried to look closer the figure was gone.
"This is the House of Steel and Blood," the larger one said. "The Lich King War is over. Most of the Lich King Council, as well as IV herself, were destroyed. While bandits may still plague the land, our Consortium is strong enough that only the boldest bandits would try our strength."
Their footsteps whispered on the tile as they moved deeper in. Ryder could feel sweat bead up on his skin, the interior hot and humid to Ryder after having been left outside in the cold rainy night. A dull red light was starting to shine and it took Ryder a moment to realize it was the fire under his skin beginning to light up the wagon around him.
"Stop here," The woman said, turning. She looked Ryder up and down, those eerie violet eyes weighing and judging. "Batteti, Emivati, read his runes."
Ryder looked at the two women just in time to see them pull bronze nails from inside their sleeves. Before he could react they lifted their hands and drove the nails into the purple light. Blood and fluid squirted, the lights went out, and Ryder screamed in fear.
"Be still!" the taller one snapped. Ryder's teeth clicked as he closed his mouth.
Two of the small ones began moving around him. Touching his skin now and then, making the red fire under his skin bloom beneath their hands. They were whispering, a strange sibelent sound that Ryder couldn't understand. The larger woman was nodding as they whispered, perfectly still otherwise.
"That rune I recognized. It is the personal rune of the female. I have seen it in her mage-fire as she is disciplined by young Stelancia," The taller one whispered. "He is bound to her, Skylar Kylee Wintersong, through fate and blood and power. I can hear his soul whisper her secret true name."
Ryder flinched slightly, fear surging up. The little black people were strange, superstitious. The mention of Skylar's name though brought up, unbidden, a sudden memory of how Skylar had looked, naked, being led back to the wagon she had been living in. Her large pert small breasts, her trim wide hips, her generous small buttocks.
He'd even seen that her crotch had been shaved.
"Yes, yes, I see. His body reacts to your warm hands and the memory of her. His heart, his desires, scream her name," The larger one whispered.
Ryder looked down, seeing he was sporting an erection, and went to hide it.
"Be still," The woman's voice was like a whip cracking, making Ryder stand up straight.
"That is the Titan's rune. They are all three bound together," The taller one said. "Yes, yes, those are the marking of the Dusk Walker and the Dawn Strider. They will be leaving our care, see there, the way that spiral intersects with the marking of Bloody Elshon duRalvden?"
The two small ones floated back down to the ground as the larger one turned around. Ryder watched as their hands went back to their hoods. The hands withdrew, holding the bronze nails, and as Ryder watched the softly glowing violet eyes blinked several times, the soft illumination increasing with each blink until it was as strong as it was before. The crudely forged nails dripped blood that vanished into the dimness before the drops touched the tile floor.
For some reason it made Ryder's stomach churn.
"You will follow. You have been kept caged by the ignorant and weak," The woman said. "You should have been turned over to our House of Steel and Blood immediately. Now you are confused, afraid, and your fear is curdling within you, poisoning your soul."
She stopped again, turning around and Ryder finally got a look at her face.
A crude mask, made of black metal, with rivets in it, covered the woman's entire face. The violet cat's eyes stared from the square holes in the mask. Braids of dark hair, woven with barbed wire, squirmed out from under the hood, reaching out across the space between the short woman and Ryder. The braids, the sharp prongs of the barbed wire scraping at his skin, wound around his arms, pulling them away from his body. He struggled, trying to squirm free, remembering how strong he had been compared to the tiny men.
It did not good as the woman watched with cold violet eyes.
"The House of Steel and Blood shall burn away your ignorance, your weakness, Ryder Tristan Black," the five woman spoke at once. "We welcome you, father, brother, son, lover, into this house. Here you may be as you will be. Here you will discover many things."
"You think you know fear," The younger ones said, fading back into the dimness. They blinked, or closed their eyes, and vanished from Ryder's senses.
"You will fear other things, Ryder Tristan Black," The woman whispered from behind her mask. Her hair tightened on his forearms as she lifted slightly off the floor.
"You will learn to fear me."