The Mayaware's reign must end.
In a world of demonic beings with a hunger for human flesh and thirst for blood, Hesi Renen knows it well. When her siblings are taken to the harvesting farms, she must do everything she can to get them out, even if it...
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Hesi scampered down the wall to the beat of the water splashing on bare stones. The walkway ended in the fortress' center, right in another courtyard. Buildings as tall as rock formations flanked the open space, each one peppered with arches guarded by balconies across a minimum of five floors.
She tightened her grip on the knife's hilt buried into the mortar and flattened her body against the wall. Down below, about six women hunkered into themselves, shaking like blades of palms against a sandstorm. The Mayaware in the courtyard bore buckets of water, drawn from wells she saw on the way here. Another synchronous swing, and waves of fresh water zipped out of the rim and towards their target. An angry array of splashes rained against the stone.
Much to her surprise, a man sauntered into the courtyard bearing dry towels. He started drying the women, not bothered about the fact he touched them in places not meant for anyone, much less strangers. It must be a harrowing experience, especially for the women. Not only did they witness people get butchered, it also became clear that by some twisted coincidence, they avoided such a fate. And now, they were handled like lost cubs, touched and viewed in ways that weren't proper.
But it wasn't what held her attention the longest. The man, characterized by a dark mop of curls on his head, ran and ushered the women towards the western building. How in the world could a human thrive in this place, even as a servant? Were they simply lucky, handpicked by the general or some other demon playing a god?
Perhaps the Mayaware culture has changed since the Great Shadow. When the demons first took over Ser-Djare, they were nothing but a pack of hungry beasts humans thought were easy to handle. According to stories from veterans and lucky sods who lived past their prime, the Mayaware began attacking with better accuracy and planning after a few years, as though they spent time studying human civilization moments after the historic upheaval. Darpeh, they even adapted and changed much of Berijyet in a few months.
The Mayaware changed in ways humanity couldn't predict, and did it faster than a blink. Now, most people accepted they were merely food, and that survival must be as primitive and essential as an instinct to use in a proper playing field. They became no better than the fowls and critters they used to hunt for meat, and she hasn't processed how she felt about that. Perhaps human slaves were a recent addition and only available in this part of Setene. Maybe it was only in this fortress.
She watched the women do various rituals after an impromptu bath. One had a damp towel around her shoulders, covering most of her chest. Another swiped her fiery red hair off her face and followed the male slave out of the courtyard. As the others fell in line, they jumped over streaking streams of water bearing most of the blood, grime, and traces of the desert that once plagued their bodies. The water, itself, had emptied into the edge of the courtyard, where a waiting trench-like contraption waited for it. It was almost mesmerizing to witness the murky water drain into the trench and, because of an engineered incline, flow past the interconnected network of pipes and trenches leading to who knew where.
