Brises (Shorty Story)

The whole story

This is my first story, it is short and a little brutal. I felt like it was ready to be publicized. It wont be my last, and your feedback would be great! My other stories I'm working on are almost polar opposite of this one. So don't fret if you don't like it! There is mature content in this story as well as death. If that upsets you then I recommend finding something different to read! I hope you enjoy or what ever you wish to feel. Leave a comment if your brave, all comments are welcome! :) As always thank you for giving this story a glance!

My name is Brises. I don't know where I was born, but I've spent most of my life trying to survive. I have early memories of growing up with people that resemble what I look like today. They had long dark hair, but mine was always light. We shared the same Sunkissed skin color and some of them had my pale green eyes. I was shorter than the other girls, but I was just five years old. They dressed me in light colored dresses of soft silk and fur. By age seven the camp I lived in with what I'm hoping was my people was attacked. I hid in a tent under some thick furs. They set the tent on fire and forced me to dig myself deep into the ground with only my hands. I dug my way out of the tent and stayed in the long tunnel I made until I became lightheaded. When I got out there was nothing left of my camp, the people of my camp where gone, and with them the ones that attacked. I never trusted anyone and when I was spotted, I would leave my area and move far away, counting three turns of the earth until I made a more permanent camp. I've done this since I was thirteen. That's when he found me. A man on a horse blew past my camp and had me thrown over his galloping horse before I could get my legs under me and escape. He had been tracking me for some time and lost my trail for a few days. I never felt safe since he started after me. We met at a market; I was selling the last of the furs that I had from winter to get me some dried meats the butcher kept for me when I was in town. They where not the best cut of meat, but he took pity on me which helped me more than he knew. His pity got me through a few winters in this area. Its why I would come back. The man on the horse tried to buy my dinner a few weeks back and I refused, left my money to cover my meal, then left. I watched him watch me for some time while sizing him up before I split.

He had a rope already attached to the saddle of his horse, and the way he pulled me over his lap and onto the horse allowed for him to quickly tie me down. I couldn't break loose we both knew it. But I did not give up. He road into the night his hand firmly bunched into the clothes on my back and the rope tied tightly around my waist.

My stomach hurt enough that I felt like my dinner was going to reappear before me by the time we reached his camp. My heart sunk at the size of it. There where thousands of tents, the sun sinking in the distance gave away that much. It was a war party, and I was a captured war prize. But for who? The soldiers where burley, tall, corded with bulking muscle, and getting ready for a fight. The few women that where present had iron rings around their necks, too small to slip off, and large enough to look uncomfortable for sleeping. They where putting out fires, wrapping dried meat, and tending to the men in their area. Slaves. The women avoided the mens eyes and mine, the soldiers did not. They watched us go by, some where curious, some where not. My body shook the farther we went into the camp, every step made it harder and harder for me to escape.

I wrapped my arms around my stomach to soften every step the horse made. It was better than nothing. The walk through the camp was the worst part, my dress was riding up, I was being watched by more people than I was comfortable with, and the feeling that we needed a new plague was not helping my anxiety, because large groups spread plagues. I was in the middle of a large group. He stopped the horse finally, there was nothing around that could give me clues to his importance to the group of men that acknowledged him as he passed. The rope that was grinding into my side was cut off allowing me to breathe better.