Selene

 

Selene.

Mercenary, huntress, Warrior.

Fighting alongside the "expendables" amongst the clans, a runaway from her Clan, from the fate her Mother intended for her. Fleeing as far away as possible, hidden as best she could, from an engagement she did not look forward to.

She did not even know a lot about her would-be fianceé, -not more than any commoner of her people did, anyway- but she knew one thing: She did not want to become the possession of no one. Her independence and freedom were precious to her, too valuable to let them be stripped away by customs she did not agree with.

Just because she had old blood flowing through her veins, of a lineage highly appreciated by her people, it did not mean she liked the idea of being another trophy to be hung from the walls of the great hall of a palace in one of the pure lands. She did not know a life of luxury, nor did she terribly long for it, but it had been none other than the heir to the leadership of the clans to whom she had been betrothed. Her consent was not necessary, although her compliance was expected.

It had been a difficult choice to make, to leave behind all she knew, and to venture into the unknown, the effort, the exertion, the pain... the fatigue after each encounter, and the small, fearful joy of coming out of it alive for another day. The monsters were terrible beings, and she had so far seen her fair share of brothers-in-arms taken down by the monsters. It was never pretty, and always terrifying.

That was until that fateful night. A night without her namesake in the sky, a dark night. She navigated the thick of the jungle with her other senses, as her sight was dimmed due to the lack of light. Her touch and scent guided her through the foliage, branches, mud, and vines. It had been arduous and her muscles screamed their pain with every new step. But she needed to find her camp and survive. The raid had been mostly successful. They had barely dispatched the monsters that had come to attack that night, but her remaining companions were now scattered, most of them wounded, others exhausted. She had collected her own set of scars along the process of becoming someone new, but none of them could neither hide her true beauty nor the precious markings and pattern that had her chased by those who wanted her mated off to the would-be leader.

Keeping a low profile, however, had helped. She was only skilled enough to make it out alive for one day at a time, long enough to become as jaded as the other mercenaries, but also thankful that she was there risking her life of her own volition, instead of wasting it away as someone else's prize and decoration.

The stray thought had distracted her long enough to take a step a bit too strongly in order not to lose her footing in the mud. It was for naught, however, as she felt something strong and flexible tighten around her ankle and lift her up, hanging upside down. She thought of bending over and trying to reach her binding, to either claw at it, bite it or cut it with her knife. But it was useless. She was too tired and sore to successfully reach it, no matter how she tried.

What a clumsy and pathetic way to go, she thought. She knew there were at least one or two of the remaining smaller monsters on her trail and now she was trapped and defenseless. Thinking a bit more about her position, she reasoned she had fallen into one of the perimeter traps set around one of the pure lands. Those traps were set to keep those unworthy at bay and avoid them from coming near them, or worse yet, entering.

The Pure lands were inhabited by the Elite of the Clans, those fortunate enough to have been born and/or considered worthy -by their deeds- of belonging there.
She tried her best to avoid them, as the fate she had run away from resided within those lands, moving as they pleased amongst them and for as long as they felt like it.

The deliverers of her clan had read the moon and stars on the night of her birth, and once she became of age, they had shared their findings on her fate with her. They gave her what she should hold a secret: her true name. Such a thing was paramount in their beliefs, as it reflected one's destiny and one could not escape their fate, but if they were fortunate and wise enough to recognize it, they could embrace it. Only in the deepest trust could a secret name be shared, as it was believed it gave the other power over oneself.

It had sounded so different from what she had so far known. A single word containing a million details of a future she wished and longed for, deep within, but had no way of knowing yet. She only could guess it was not meant to be what she fled from.

Her blood should have run to her head in the short time she entertained the memories of her past. as she felt disoriented and somewhat dizzy. 'Cut it down', came the command. It somehow sounded to her as jaded and discontent as she felt. Then the metallic noise of one of the armored ones, a clipping sound, and the inevitable impact with the ground, which hurt for a little while before she felt her conscience fade.

She woke up very slowly, as her senses began to tell her about her new surroudings. From the voices and sounds of activity, it seemed to be a war camp, one of those as numerous and as stylish -with cutting edge weapons and equipment- as only the elite could afford for their "hunts" which they did for sport, as they really did not need a thing that their lands did not provide for them. The lower clans even paid regular tributes to them, and the mercenaries earned back whatever they could by risking their lives to protect not just their clan lands, but the pure lands as well.

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs as none of the names she occasionally heard were the one she feared. But she still had to keep a low profile, in the rare case there had been a bounty placed on her due to her dissapearance. So far, the royal family had not resorted to violence against her clan -she would have known about it by now- but had been rather silent, and she had not cared to find out yet exactly why, content as she was to be out of their sights -and she intended to remain that way-.

A face with eyes fiercer than her own and showing an anger she was not familiar with, appeared before her own. She did not feel like backing down, and so she held his gaze, showing her own discomfort at realizing she was bound by her ankles, wrists and arms, and also gagged. There was something frightening and challenging in that look, something primal, imposing... and hungry.

Countless times she had fought against the monsters, but none of them made her feel like that, as if she was fully naked and being devoured at the same time. Vulnerable.

And that was precisely a state she did not like being in. She felt cornered as he grabbed her arms with his hands, gripping them tightly. His nostrils moved, his fangs bared and a growl seemed to form in his throat, but he contained it. She could feel his breath, hot against the skin of her neck as he moved, she could hear his maw opening and his fangs pressing against her skin. Just when she expected the acute pain of a hard bite, he slowly retreated and left. Orders were given about, but she could not make them out. The only thing she could tell is that no one else came around her. No one but him.

He was the one to come check up on her from time to time, to bring her food and water, to raise her to her feet and unbind her ankles, then placing a collar around her neck,keeping a tight grip on the chain connected to it. She had been taken captive and claimed as a slave. If she had previously thought being a trophy mate was demeaning, her current state gave the word a whole new meaning. She was unarmed, barely clothed and bound, kept on a leash. Commands would come soon, and she could kiss her freedom goodbye... No one dared take away a slave from a master, as only the Elite exerted the right to take them however and whenever they pleased, mostly from among the lower clans, without having to give any explanation at all. Such was the gap between them and its unsurmountability. People from the lowe clans had come to take it as a normal ocurrence and let it go, as they had no means to challenge the Elite clans, nor would such a thing ever end well for them.

But she could not just lay her freedom to die. She had fought so hard to keep it, to lose it so easily.