Shade groaned as he groggily opened his eyes. He stared blankly at the ceiling for a few moments, before reaching for the table next to him, feeling for where he left the bottle of booze. What he felt though was his arm hit something very soft and skin like. “Huh?” He mumbled, as he slowly turned his head to the side. Kneeling right next to his face, mere inches away, was Faylen. “Holy shit!” He yelled, jumping off the couch to his feet. His leg though clipped the corner of the coffee table and he toppled to the ground.

  “Are you ok master?” Faylen asked with some mild amusement in her voice.

  He groaned again, finding he was once more looking at the ceiling, then slowly picked himself up. He wasn’t injured of course, a simple fall couldn’t do anything to him, but like all powerful people, it was the mild inconveniences in life that really annoyed him. He crossed his arms as he looked down at his kneeling slave. “What is it with you and kneeling next to people while they sleep? Some sort of weird kink?”

  She tilted her head in confusion. “I’m sorry master.” She said unconvincingly. “I was trained to wait on my hands and knees for my next orders.”

  “I don’t think they meant that literally.” He replied, then paused in thought and threw his arms in the air in exasperation. “Well, maybe they did, I don’t know, I’ve never owned a slave before.”

  “You’ve never owned a slave before?” She asked.

  “Nope.” He replied. “You’re my first. Congrats, you popped my slave cherry.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Could what he was saying actually be true? Was it just more posturing in an effort to drive up her hope, only to tear it away? Surely it had to be lie, but then again, when he woke up in the field next to her, he seemed genuinely confused at the situation. She bit her lip, then chewed her cheek. Slaves were never supposed to speak out of turn, but if he was telling the truth, then there would be no problem. And if he was lying, like she thought, she would just be tortured, or better yet, killed. Something she had resigned herself to for a long time. She got to her feet, and did a half bow to him, which he raised an eyebrow at. “Master, I know we’re trained to be silent, only speaking when spoken to, but may I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, I don’t care.” He replied, moving to the coffee table and grabbing a bottle of vodka. As he picked it up, he noticed two things. First, the bottle of gin was completely missing from the table, and second, the table was sparkling clean, not a single speck of dust on it.

  “If I am truly your first slave, then why were you at the slave auction? And why did you purchase me?” She asked.

  He though barely heard her as he looked around the room in mild shock. The walls, window sills, floors; everything was sparkling clean. “Did you clean the whole house?”

  She shook her head. He had to change the subject. Even the most basic of questions, and his story of never owning a slave came crumbling down. Why did she even consider the possibility he was telling the truth? She came out of her bow and nodded. “Yes master, you ordered me to.”

  “I did?” He said, momentarily forgetting what he had said before he fell asleep. “Oh right, I did, didn’t I.” He started to walk around the room, looking at every nook, every cranny, all spotless. “What did you even clean it with?”

  “I used some of the towels from the closet. I did clean them off in the tub after I finished, they’re currently drying outside. I hope that was ok.” She said, again in a quick bow.

  He waved dismissively. “Sure, I don’t care.” Then he paused, and turned to her. “Wait, you went outside?”

  “Yes, am I not permitted to? I apologize again master.” She replied.

  He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. What was with this girl? She was terrified of him, but when given the choice to leave, she chose to come with him. Not only that, but when he had fallen asleep, she could have run, but still didn’t. Was it her training? Was she scared he would track her down? Both? But when he peered out the window, his confusion vanished as he started to laugh. Apparently, she had taken two of the spears that were hanging in his bedroom off the wall, then stuck them in the ground and used them as poles for an impromptu clothes line. “Oh, I wonder what the people whose spears those were would say if they saw this. Their pride and joys, their partners in battle, now nothing more then poles for a clothesline.”

  “Should I have not done that, master?” She asked, still waiting for something she did without having explicit permission to be punished, as she was taught would happen.

  He shook his head as he turned back to her, smile on his face. “Nah, I don’t care. But you’re lucky those were made out of Mithril, most spears that size would weigh a ton. I kind of wish I was awake to see the sight though, a tiny girl like you carrying around a 6-foot mithril spear.” He laughed again at the thought, then after a few moments, gathered himself. “Sorry, I’m sure cleaning this place was a lot of work, I shouldn’t laugh. I do actually appreciate it.”

  She cocked her head a bit. He was…. complementing her? For simply following an order? She even did things without asking him first, and he…. didn’t care?

  “Anyway.” He continued, as he sat back down on the couch, on the opposite side from where she was standing, and began to take more swigs from his bottle of vodka. “What happened to the gin I was drinking?”

  “When you fell asleep, it dropped from your hand and spilled on the floor. I cleaned it up and put the empty bottle in the kitchen.” She replied.

  He nodded, that sounded about right. He continued to sit on the couch and quietly drink, but it slowly became more and more awkward. She continued to stand at the other end of the couch, staring at him, waiting for her next orders. The problem was he didn’t have any, he didn’t need anything. He tried to not make eye contact with her, but he could feel her unblinking stare. He wanted to say something, but he was never great at conversations to begin with, and he especially didn’t know how to hold one with a slave. Could you just ask them about the weather? How their day was going? They were slaves, it was probably going pretty poorly. That’s when he remembered, she had asked him something while he was enamored by his newly cleaned house. “Wait, you asked me something didn’t you? What was it again? Sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention, I haven’t seen my house this clean in, well, maybe ever? It was a bit of a shock.”

  What? He was going back to the question he purposefully ignored, but why? Oh, wait, it was obvious. The cleanliness of the house was just a distraction while he thought of an answer to the question, a story he could weave. Fine then, he still wanted to play this game, she would play along, for now. “I was wondering, if you had never owned a slave, why were you at the auction, why did you buy me?”

  “Well.” He said with a shrug. “I have no fucking clue. I’ve been trying to figure that very thing out myself. I think maybe your lack of echos interested me? But honestly, I don’t really remember.”

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Now she was just baffled. He brought the question back up, but didn’t have an answer for it still? What game what he was playing at? “You…. don’t know?”

  “Nope.” He replied nonchalantly. “Sometimes you go out on the town planning to drink your eyes out, and then you wake up in a grassy field a first-time slave owner. Happens to the best of us I guess.” As she was pondering his reason, or really, his lack thereof, silence broke out between the two again. After a few more swigs, and some awkward looking around the room, acting like he was taking in the interior for the very first time, he decided to speak back up. There was no point in not asking what he had been thinking about. “Well, you asked me a question, now I get to ask you a question, it’s only fair.”

  “You could ask me anything at any time, master.” She replied, still somewhat reeling from why he brought back up something he wouldn’t have an answer for.

  “Why did you come back here with me?” He asked, and she immediately shot to attention. “I said I would leave you in that field if that’s what you wanted. I know we were in the middle of nowhere, but you seemed absolutely terrified of me, yet here you are. Why?”

  She tried to gather her thoughts. He was on the attack now. Bringing back up that question she had asked was actually meant to confuse her. Now he was going for the hypothetical kill, before the eventual, actual kill. She needed an answer that would make sense in the situation, and quick. “Well…” She started, rather unconvincingly. “I have no echos, I’m weak and powerless. And as you’ve pointed out, I’m a young girl whose…. well…”

  “Extremely attractive?” He said.

  “Yes. Even if I was freed by you, I would most likely be picked up by some slavers again given enough time.”

  He nodded. “Makes sense. There are a bunch of different slave outfits, so some of them probably don’t know you aren’t actually worth anything, at least, not worth more than one gold coin apparently.” She scoffed, but then quickly put on her usual stoic face. He though noticed the scoff. “That doesn’t explain a few things though. One, you were scared of me eating your soul. Even if you figured you’d be picked up by some slavers again, wouldn’t being a slave for someone who wouldn’t ruin your chances at some fake afterlife be better then being with a soul eating lucifer dragon? And two, you no longer seem nearly as terrified. Like a switch had been hit. First you were like an emotionless doll, then you were terrified, and now you do things like find amusement from me falling and scoff at my comments.”

  On the outside she remained perfectly stoic still, but on the inside her mind was racing. He had gotten her. She had shown her own hand to plainly. What was he going to do to her now? She knew at some point she was going to be killed and her soul eaten, but if she had a choice, she would prefer not to be tortured before that. Her goal had been to follow his orders perfectly, answer him like a good obedient slave, in order to not give the bastard the satisfaction of punishing her, or watching her hope drain away. But if that was her plan, why did she do things without his permission in a test to see what he would do in response?

  “Well?” He asked.

  She began to stutter and fidget as she became lost in what her own plan even was. What was she trying to do? What was she trying to accomplish? What she had told herself she wanted to do went completely against what she actually ended up doing. “I….I….just…well…”

  As she was stuttering, his eyes narrowed more and more as he watched her eyes. That empty emotionless look her eyes used to have was now changed for one with real panic, and he knew why. He could tell from years of interrogations the look of somebody trying to come up with a lie. But then what was her real reason for coming with him? If what she said wasn’t the truth, why did she come back to the cabin with him? And then it hit him, it was obvious. “You thought I was lying, didn’t you?”

  “What?” She said, coming back to reality. “No, I would never accuse my master of lying.” She said, with the convincingness of a child telling you they didn’t eat the last cookie while their mouth was covered in chocolate.

  He nodded, got off the couch, and slowly made his way over to her.

  “I’m sorry master, I promise, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again!” She begged, now no longer pretending it wasn’t a lie. He had seen right through her; he had won their mini battle. But it turned out that wasn’t her only lie. She had told herself that she had no longer feared death, that she had accepted it. Everyone can say that while still living though, but as she watched the huge lucifer make his way towards her, her death now moments away, that fear came rushing back. When he reached her, he reached for her neck, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the end to come. But it didn’t. Instead, she felt the collar release from around her neck, and could hear it clank to the floor. She slowly opened her eyes back up, looked down, and saw her collar on the ground. Almost not able to believe it, she began touching her neck to confirm, nothing was there. She then looked up at the dragon that was towering over her. What she saw was him staring at her chest with eyes so wide, it looked like someone had just told him his entire family had just died. “Master?” She asked.

  Shade had gotten up with a simple plan. She didn’t believe he would let her go? Then there was only one way to prove otherwise. He would free her from the collar, give her a bag of money, and throw her out the door. Surely she would be caught one day by other slavers, but if she did fear he was going to eat her soul, then maybe it was for the better? No, even he couldn’t convince himself of that. But he had no other solution, no place to send her, and giving her some money and sending her on her way was the best he could do, at least with the minimal effort he wanted to put in. But that all changed when he removed her collar. The second it fell off her neck and to the floor, he was engulfed by the feeling of an ocean’s worth of echos. “You…. you said you had no echos?” He stammered.

  “Yea? I don’t.” She responded, confused herself now at the obvious shock plastered on his face.

  His mind raced, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He could feel it, more echos then he had felt in decades. And she was only 20? Who was this girl? No, that didn’t really matter right now, what was wrong with her was the problem. Why couldn’t she use the echos he could feel? And why couldn’t he feel them through the collar? Echos were produced by the soul, and the collar connected to the soul, so if her soul was producing all these echos, then he should’ve been able to feel them. But he felt nothing while he was connected to her. Not only that, but if she couldn’t use echos, then what was he feeling right now? It couldn’t be the residual echos from her using them in the past, as she would’ve never used any in the past. He slowly stared down to the collar, leaned over and picked it back up, inspecting it. Was it some sort of new slave collar he wasn’t aware of, some sort of new invention? But why would they make a collar that lessened the owner’s ability to feel and control the slaves echos? That couldn’t be it. Powerful people giving up power and control? That’d be the day. As he looked closely at the gem on the front, it looked like every other standard slave collar. “Would you mind if I actually put this back on you for a second?” He said, finally meeting her gaze.

  Her face went cold and emotionless again. Yep, freeing her was nothing more than an act, he was just trying to give her hope, then take it away. Of course it was just an act, slavers were all the same in the end. She was eventually going to die, then he was going to eat her soul. But the worst part was that no matter how much she pretended now, she knew she was in fact actually still terrified of it. Then she wondered, was that his goal? To show her he knew that no matter how much of an act she put on, he knew she was still scared of dying and having her soul eaten? She growled internally, that had to be it, and he had gotten exactly what he had wanted, and exactly what she had been trying not to give him. “You are my master; you may do as you wish.” She said with frustration oozing from her voice. But then her confusion came roaring back again as he placed the collar around her neck, connected to it, then instantly disconnected from it and removed it once more. He then did this over, and over and over. What was he trying to do now? Was this some sort of sick joke? Showing her how much control he had over her? How he could do whatever he wanted with her? That her life was in his hands? She already knew all this, was he just rubbing it in? He truly was a piece of shit. But when he finally finished whatever it was he was doing, he left the collar off of her. She narrowed her eyes as she looked up at him, now what was he playing at?

  Shade was baffled. Every time he connected to the collar, the feeling of echos disappeared, while every time he disconnected from it, and removed it from her neck, it was like he was standing in front of a veteran knight commander. While confused as to what was going on, this did at least answer one of his questions. This, this was why he had purchased her.