Enslaved (Space Mage Book 2)

by Izzy Shows

  Was my listlessness due to the fact that I hadn't been able to reach out and touch Kaidan's mind for eons now? I had tried every day and every night to reach him, to find out where he was and if he was safe, but I hadn't been able to since I was sold on the slave block. He was out of my reach, wherever he was, and it drove me half-mad not knowing what had become of him.

  Had he been sold to a fighting ring as I had? Was he being forced to kill? Or, much worse, were they doing things to him, experimenting on him, changing who he was?

  He'd told me he'd been experimented on back on his home world, Earth, that the scientists there had changed his genetic code and made him into something other than what he had been, and I knew he hated it more than words could say. He hated all scientists now, save for Walter, and I hated to think that he might be forced to relive any of that.

  Is that really the worst thing that could happen to him? What if he's being beaten day in and day out? What if he was sold as a flesh slave, as the other males around you were sold on that block?

  I shuddered at the very idea of Kaidan servicing a cold, heartless female who had bought him only for his body. He deserved to be cherished and loved; he had known a lot of pain in his life, and I could only want happiness for him going forward.

  But happiness didn't seem to be what we were going to get, not if my experience was anything to judge by. Many lives had been taken by my hand, and many more would be taken going forward. It seemed that there was no end to these proving fights, and I couldn't comprehend what would happen when the tournament began.

  I'd gotten no further information about it out of any of the slaves who had attended me before my proving fights. I had seen the first female only one more time, and she had been fine, although she'd said not a word to me. I didn't think I had gotten her into trouble, but I hadn't seen her since, and I worried that she might have been hurt for speaking to me.

  But how would anyone have known that we'd talked?

  Unless there were cameras or microphones spread throughout the club and the arena. I wouldn't put it past the masters to do that; they enjoyed all forms of humiliation, and I doubted they would stop themselves from observing a female in the state of undress. No doubt they would enjoy it.

  I tried not to feel violated by the thought of someone watching me while I dressed and undressed, to remind myself that it was a blessing for others to look on my body, as I had always believed, but it was undeniable that this was a very different circumstance. These males, when they looked at my body, did not see the holy host inside me. They did not see me as a creation of the gods, a blessing put into mortal form. They did not feel reverence as they were meant to, and the sight of my body did not bring them any closer to reformation than they had been before.

  They looked for their own pleasure, no doubt imagining me in various forms of torture and agony, and the thought sickened me. It made me feel cheap and used, and I detested being made to feel such a way.

  I glanced down at my body, again dressed in the hyper-sexualized gladiator outfit, and wondered if I would ever regain even a modicum of self-respect after this torment was over.

  Assuming it would ever be over.

  The blue hue of my skin had never been so muted before; it was so faint that it was hard to see. It was a distressing sight, though normally it wouldn't be. The glow of my flesh, whether it was vibrant or subdued, was an indication of the way I was feeling at any given moment. To have a subdued hue was to be very controlled, and it was highly sought after amongst my people, but the sight of my hue now did not give me cause to rejoice for having excellent control.

  It was an indication of how numb I had become since I had been brought here. That I felt very little now was cause for great concern, and I worried that permanent damage would be done to my soul.

  Would I ever recover from this?

  Oh, Vivoth, why did you put me here? Why did you allow such a thing to happen, after all I have already been through? Is this punishment for not saving the humans when Nytoc first attacked?

  I thought it must be. There was no other explanation for my god allowing such misery to be visited upon me. Truly, he must be dissatisfied for all that I had done in his name.

  Perhaps, one day, if I got out of this, I would be able to make him proud. Even if he had willingly allowed this to happen to me, I could not cease to love him. He was the all-father, the creator of life, and his will was to be respected, no matter that I could not understand it. He would not allow something to happen if it did not serve a purpose. I could not forget that.

  I looked up from my hands to the bars that kept me from the arena, knowing I was about to engage in yet another fight.

  "Are you ready, miss?" a soft voice said from behind me.

  I turned my head to look over my shoulder, surprised that anyone was there. "Yes, of course I am."

  "It's the final fight, miss. I hope you're prepared." She looked worried, which only confused me.

  "What does that mean? Is it different from any of the others?"

  "Oh, yes, miss. The final fight is a battle royal. You will be fighting a third of the remaining females, for one of the final positions in the tournament. It is the worst proving fight, in my humble opinion, and I wish you luck."

  I grimaced. "Luck will not aid me."

  And then I turned back to the bars, finished with the brief conversation. This was the first time another being had spoken to me in quite a while, since the first slave had told me about the tournament, but I drew no comfort from it any longer. I didn't want to speak to anyone who was associated with this business, didn't want to know they had done nothing to stop this from happening.

  I had told the female who had first dressed me that I did not condemn her for her silence in the face of such aggression, but I found it was harder and harder to hold to that statement.

  At long last I heard the gong, the volume of which I had adjusted to over the course of the many fights I'd partaken in, and the bars lifted, giving me access to the ring.

  Again I entered it, holding tight to the curved blade I had been given, my only weapon. At once, I saw that nine other women had been released into the arena as well. It was clear to see by the way they congregated with one another that alliances had somehow been formed before the fight.

  I didn't see how that was possible, considering I had not been allowed to meet any of my competitors, but perhaps they had. Perhaps they had behaved more amicably with their masters than I had, for I still did not show him the proper respect.

  The ten of us met in the middle of the arena, forming a loose ring, and waited for the second gong to sound, which would announce the beginning of the fight.

  It was a long while before it came, and the tension was high, but at last it did, and violence broke out.

  Immediately, I skittered to the back of the skirmish, choosing to abstain from the fighting for as long as I could. I watched in horror as the females tore into one another. They held nothing back, fighting with not just the weapons they'd been given but with their nails and teeth as well. They struck one another with a viciousness I had never seen before in my life, and the bloodshed was great.

  I shivered at the sight, trying to turn my eyes from it, but found that I was somehow riveted to the spot.

  A female spotted me and charged, taking me for easy prey, but I leapt over her at the last moment. I landed in a crouch beyond her and rolled to the side before leaping up and racing around to the other side of the battle.

  I hoped she would give up her chase and rejoin the fight so I would not have to kill her. Perhaps it was cowardly to allow the other females to kill one another before I joined in, but I did not want to shed blood I did not have to.

  It made my heart ill.

  I watched as the females fell, one after another, until only three remained. It was clear to me, having watched the fight, that these three were in an alliance together. They had not fought one another; instead, they had attacked the others as one, and now the thr
ee of them turned to me as one.

  I could see the blood lust in their eyes, and my heart sank. I would not be able to reason with these females, for they were surely the deadliest of the group. Perhaps they even enjoyed the battle. Perhaps they had learned to love it after they had been forced into it. The female slave who had dressed me had said that none of the females chosen for the tournament were picked because they were formidable fighters, but I thought at least some of them must be, if these three were anything to go by.

  Don't make me do this. Please, just go. Turn and go back, and we can all be free of this.

  I could not help but make that silent plea, though I kept it to myself. It was wishful thinking. They would not give up the fight, not now, when they had already killed so many.

  They charged me as a single unit, then broke out to surround me, acting as a herd of predators might.

  For a moment, all was still, and then I heard the sound of boots scuffling behind me and saw the two in my field of vision lunge forward. I threw myself into the air, allowing my light body to glide for a moment until I was beyond the two who had boxed me in. I somersaulted as I touched the ground and twisted as I came up to face them again.

  Wariness was in their eyes. They knew now that I had not survived this long out of pure luck, that I had some sort of skill. They had not seen me fight in the giant skirmish that had taken place just now, but it must have occurred to them that I had made it to this final fight through the killing of other females, just as they had.

  Again, they came at me, and this time I remained on the ground, blocking the first blow with my sword, kicking the arm delivering the second blow, and shifting my weight so the third landed on my armor. It was difficult work, fighting the three of them at once, but I didn't doubt that I would be able to get through it.

  This wasn't my first time in such a fight; many times when I was working to prove myself to the initiates of the Aelodhari, I had had to fight against more than one opponent to prove my skill. But those had never been fights to the death. They had always been a fight to submission.

  Submission would not be enough in this instance, of course. I would have to end the lives of these females, though would bring me great distress to do so.

  The distraction of my thoughts served the females well, and the next thing I knew, two of them had pinned me to the ground and the third was standing over me with her sword raised.

  Death. It's in her eyes. She sees my death, and she rejoices in it.

  For a moment I ceased my struggles, I thought perhaps I would accept the fate they had chosen for me, that I would find a sweet escape in the death they offered, and my torment would be brought to an end.

  Kaidan needs you. You have to get through this for Kaidan! You don't know where he is or what's happened to him. He needs you! Get up and fight!

  That resonated with me, and my will was renewed. With a great effort, I threw the other females off me and rolled to the side, bringing my blade with me to gut the female who had thought to end my life. She fell to the ground with a sickening gurgling sound, and I followed up the movement with a swipe of my blade to her throat, ending her misery.

  The other two regarded me with renewed wariness, clearly not having expected me to do such a thing. They had thought I would roll over and die, that I would submit to the end they had planned for me, and they would have to fight one another for their victory.

  I would not grant them such.

  I moved with blinding speed, cutting through the two women as if they were nothing more than air for me to dance through, and their bodies fell to the ground. I stood over their lifeless forms, watching as their blood coated the dirt beneath them, and then looked at my own hands.

  Their blood was on me, decorating my hands and arms, and I could feel it on my face and torso as well.

  Good. I deserved to be marked for the murderer I was. I deserved for everyone to look at me and know what I had done.

  I looked at the group of masters who had witnessed this destruction, and my heart clenched in my chest. They were enjoying this. They loved what had happened, and they held no regret in their hearts for the lives that had been taken today.

  I hated them for making me do this. No matter what happened, I would visit vengeance upon them.

  Kaidan

  Anxious tension built in my neck as I walked the halls of Tavixi's mansion, heading to her office. She had sent for me a few minutes ago, and I knew better than to keep her waiting. I had stopped what I was doing immediately and headed for her, though I didn't know what it was she wanted.

  She had not ceased her attempts at courtship, and every night she grew a little more aggressive in her attempts to seduce me. I was worried that I was headed towards another dose of that. I didn't want to have to fend her off yet again, but there was little I could do to stop her. If she wanted to touch me, she had every right to, and though I had the physical strength to stop her from doing it, I would only be met with pain if I did so.

  As of yet, I had not dared to stop her, since I didn't want to find out what would happen if I did, but I didn't doubt that she would punish me. I doubted she would take kindly to being denied in such an obvious fashion, and even if she didn't use the pain collar on me, she would find some other way to punish me for my insolence.

  Instead, I tried to weather her attempts at seduction as best I could while still holding her at bay. Perhaps if I managed to continue on in this fashion, I would eventually find my way out without having to allow her to do what she wanted.

  "You called for me, mistress?" I said as I walked into her office, an extravagant room that had more luxury in it than most people would ever look upon in their lifetime. She was sitting at a large desk with a glass top and gold accents, looking at several vid screens. There were no papers to be seen, but that wasn't unusual in this day and age. I had never seen anything on paper except for my orders; those were too classified for telecommunication, which was liable to be hacked no matter how secure you thought your system was.

  A smile burst onto her face as soon as she laid eyes on me.

  "Kaidan! Yes. Thank you for coming so quickly," she said.

  As if I had the option of delaying my arrival. I was at her beck and call. Anything she wanted done, I had to do. She'd never threatened me, but even so, the her owning me had an implicit threat built into it.

  "Of course, mistress," I said, keeping my eyes downcast.

  "I have very good news for you." She stood up and walked around the desk so that she was only a few feet away from me. "I have decided to promote you. You are going to be my personal body slave."

  I arched an eyebrow but still did not meet her eyes, and chose not to respond.

  "Now, this is very unusual, as you have yet to prove your loyalty, and you aren't entirely trained in the proper behavior like domestically grown slaves are, but I am quite certain that you will rise to the occasion."

  Now I dared to dart a look at her, to meet her eyes, and I found an odd amount of excitement there.

  It was obvious that she was doing this in an attempt to flatter me; she'd called it a promotion and then gone on to explain that she was doing something grand and out of the ordinary for me.

  She didn't seem to consider that I didn't want to be a slave at all, let alone her personal body slave, whatever that meant. She was also ignoring the fact that what she'd just said had merit. I didn't know any of the behaviors expected of that position, and I was bound to embarrass her if she brought me out into society, as a body slave would no doubt be required to do.

  "What is a body slave, mistress?" I asked at last, unable to bear the expectant look on her face.

  She frowned a little, clearly put out that I had not expressed my exuberance at the new position.

  "A body slave is never to be separated from his mistress. You will be at my side at all times to protect me, worship me, and ensure that all of my needs are met. You will feed me, clothe me, hand things to me so that I don't have to be emba
rrassed by reaching for something in public, and in general do what needs to be done so that I will be received as an established mistress. But don't worry—with regard to ensuring that my needs are met, there are things I would not make you do. I'm not a monster."

  She was in a rush to tack on that last bit, which only served to reinforce what she'd meant when she'd said 'all of my needs.' It was clear that a body slave would service his mistress in all ways, including sexual ones. No doubt she expected me to do so with a smile on my face, to say I would be happy to look after all of her needs.

  She would be disappointed.

  "I thank you for being so considerate," I said with a grim smile. But I couldn't bring myself to express the joy that she clearly expected from me.

  This felt far more like a punishment than a reward.

  Xiva

  Once more, I was standing before the 3D viewer in a dressing room, though this one was not attached to a combat arena. In place of the sexualized garb they had pretended was armor, I was now being dressed in a gown I had to admit was nice, even if it was cut in a ridiculous fashion. The neckline was so deep that it barely covered my breasts, skimming to just above my nipples, and there were two slits on each leg that came up all the way to my upper thigh. If I wasn't careful, I would expose myself while wearing this, though I suspected that was the point.

  The dress wasn't the only new thing I'd been given. Yesterday, I had been forced to undergo surgery to have a microphone implanted in my jaw and some sort of speaker in my ear canal. That was apparently the next step for a slave who had made it through the proving, because it enabled my master to communicate with me at all times during the tournament.

  It also ensured that I would have no privacy at all. If I hoped to get any information out of the slave who was dressing me, I would be sorely disappointed; none of them would dare to speak to me now that I had been turned into a surveillance system for the masters. I even had to carefully consider what I might say to myself when I was alone, as I had recently developed a habit of thinking aloud. I suspected it was a subconscious effort to make myself think I had more social contact than I did, though I didn't know for certain. That unsettled me; I had never behaved in such a way before, and I worried that the changes I was experiencing would affect me for the rest of my life.