The Marked Phoenix: Little Red Bird - Chapter 17

“Let go of me!” Emerine hissed when Digger or Duggie or whatever his damn name was, dragged her by her arm towards a group of cowering people near the animal shed. Her nose crinkled as a horrid smell began to suffocate her.

“The tramp still has a tongue to her,” Rufford snarled before raising his hand yet again.

Emerine didn’t flinch back at the sight, instead, she allowed herself to be smacked. Even when her head whipped to the side and her bangs covered her stubborn eyes, she raised her chin and held herself with stupid pride. Pride that could get her killed. Pride that could ruin her. But she did not care. She’d rather die pridefully than “broken.”

Displeased that she still had the guts to glower back at them with burning eyes, Rufford raised his hand as if he would land another blow before dropping it at the last minute.

If the simple act of smacking her was not enough, there were other things he could do to her. For example, the branding that every slave must go through.

A wicked smile curved onto his lips, “That reminds me. The slaves haven’t been branded yet have they?”

Emerine’s face crumbled the slightest bit. What?

Dugland’s irritated face shifted into equal amusement. “‘Yer right. They haven’t.” His eyes hungrily lingered over Emerine’s smooth, pale skin that was accentuated by the glowing moonlight shining upon her. “Why don’t ‘ye go and ask the leader.”

Emerine’s breath hitched as she struggled to keep her composure.

“Good idea. Bring the whore to the others and we’ll have her branded first.” Rufford relished in her surprised expression. Her punishment was going to bite off more than she could chew.

“‘Aye,” Dugland responded before suddenly yanking Emerine’s hair. She bit down hard on her tongue to prevent herself from crying out in pain. She stubbornly refused to give them the satisfaction even when her scalp was begging for relief.

When her short little legs couldn’t catch up to his fast pace, she felt herself stumble. It was just as he had planned, because the second she tripped over her own footing, he began to forcefully tug her by the hair. He yanked it as if it was a leash until her knees were scraped against the harsh ground.

Emerine grounded her teeth as she forced her yelps of pain down her throat. The pebbles scratched her delicate skin and by the time she was finally dragged towards the rest of the group, her skin was scratched raw.

Dirt stained her bright skin, turning it a dull and unpleasant color. Her soft and milky skin that spoke of wealth and prestige was sullied and tainted with grime.

She no longer had the appearance of Crown Princess Emerine Elaine Kastrel. Even so, she held onto that title and vowed to continue doing so even if it was the cause of her ruin.

– – – – –

Emerine refused to socialize with any of the people surrounding her. Everyone was huddled in a corner and they were too afraid to speak louder than a frightened whisper. Even the pigs oinked louder than these people.

Even in the darkness of the night, where the only source of light was the tall posts of torches stationed around the place, she could see these people were beyond malnourished even more than the damn family that sold her.

Her eyes took in every part of this place. There were different colored tents of all shapes and sizes surrounding the largest one in the middle the spot where she was dragged out from. Men of all shapes and sizes walked around, doing god knows what tasks.

She was quick to pick up on the fact that none of these people had any hint of a magic affinity which meant almost all of them were from a lower birth. Aside from the royal families of each kingdom who was guaranteed to be birthed with an affinity as well as blue-bloods, aristocrats had favorable chances of acquiring an affinity with three-fourths of the population well-versed with one. It was why they reached the position they were in.

Without affinities, a person was deemed useless and defenseless an excuse that was exhausted by the upper class to justify their horrible treatment towards the lower classes.

Emerine always sympathized with the middle-class’s low chances of two out of ten people, but nothing could prepare her for the pity she felt towards the commoners, peasants, and serfs who had zero chances of being born with an affinity. She knew their treatment wasn’t favorable and not many of them had the opportunity to climb up the social ladder, much less, even have the opportunities to do so.

“I wouldn’t behave so rashly if I were you,” said a person beside Emerine.

Emerine ignored the advice and continued to stare ahead of her, even though the majority of the people around her were keeping their heads down in fear of being seen.

All of them were dressed in outfits worse than rags if that was even possible.

Nighttime was vastly approaching and the breeze was brutal. She was shivering in her thin and revealing outfit but stubbornly preferred to freeze to death than warm the leader’s bed.

“Stubbornness will get you killed,” the meek voice babbled on, even though she was aware her words were entering one ear and leaving the next. “T-they won’t treat you as roughly if you quietly follow their orders.”

“You doomed us all, do you know that?”

Emerine clenched her teeth and forced herself to endure the biting cold. With so many people huddled together, you’d think some sort of warmth would emit from their bodies. But it didn’t, since they were all trembling against the frigid night.

“I-if you hadn’t spoken against the masters, w-we wouldn’t be forced to get branded and”

“Does blaming me give you any satisfaction?” Emerine finally responded, her heartless words surprising others.

“I”

“Thank you for your lecture,

but they’re ineffective and I don’t need it.

“Y-you could use some empathy,” the voice continued, even though she was gravely insulted by Emerine.

“I AM empathetic. My name sounds like empathy”

“Every i-inch of you l-l-lacks it,” she continued stuttering, almost as if she found it difficult to speak. There was a slight lisp to her pronunciation as well. “Y-you know, I-I was like you t-t-too.”

Emerine was patient enough to not be irked by the stuttering, even though she wanted to do nothing but tell the girl to shut up and mind her own business.

“F-fierce and s-stubborn, until they c-cut off p-parts o-of my tongue.”

This time, the girl finally had Emerine’s attention. Her head snapped towards her side where she was met face to face with a woman who had the potential to be enticing, had her eyes not been so dull and hopeless. She was covered with filth, but nothing was more upsetting than her eyes, dark, they seemed to lost all faith in humanity. To prove her point, she stuck out her tongue and sure enough, the tip of it was missing.

Emerine felt her throat dry up. “I’m sorry” she whispered, glancing at the ground. “I didn’t mean to be so unempathetic, it’s just”

“D-don’t a-a-apologize and m-make ex-excuses before o-others for-forgive you.” She turned her shoulders where her sleeveless dress revealed markings that would forever haunt Emerine’s soul. There were tobacco burns and welts all over the girl’s uneven skin, but even worse, there were scars of all sorts of symbols running down her arms.

“Y-you s-see, I’ve b-been sold m-many t-times. E-each time, I-I was h-hopeful my parents w-would find me. They u-used to be w-wealthy,” the girl whispered, “B-Before” Her eyes widened and all of a sudden, she dropped her head like the rest of them and stopped speaking.

The hair on Emerine’s body stood up when a shadow loomed over her. She didn’t have to turn around to know whom the quiet footsteps belonged to.

“Well, well, if it isn’t one freak talking to another.”

“Just because I have STDs doesn’t mean I’m a freak,” Emerine muttered in an attempt to keep up with her lies. She hated lying and bluffing because it meant she had to memorize it and try to live with it as long as possible. Her memory span was not that promising, thus, it was always difficult for her to sit through lectures and lessons.

“What was that?” The leader cupped his hand over his ears, “You’d like to be the first to be branded?” His chilly laughter was enough to freeze the blood that drained from her face.