Chapter 1 (as yet, unfinished)

Leslie, you must add/edit Nina's doings or preferances or feelings or routine in paragraphs marked with a *, please and tank ya



Nina awoke with a gasp or… what would have been a gasp. A hand covered her mouth tightly, keeping her from making a sound or sitting up. She almost attacked the person above her before she recognized the face as Nikkea’s. He slowly released her after she nodded calmly at him.


She sat up slowly and quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping figures around her. She stood and began to roll up her bedroll. She stuffed it among the two that belonged to her siblings, knowing that none of the slaves in her block would steal from her but not being foolish enough to think that none of the guards or any other slave wouldn’t. The hopeless would do anything and the slave camp was designed to drain all hope.

Her mind strayed to her dream. She’d had that same dream multiple times before so the familiar mixture of hope and despair that sat on her tongue was no surprise. She knew the ending like her siblings’ faces but, every time, she was always shocked at the ending, like she was seeing it for the first time, every time.

Nommia and Nikkea were familiar with her reaction, too. They recognized her sleeping habits when she was having the dream and were always there to make sure she woke quietly. The first time, she had waked up nearly half the slaves in their block and they weren’t too happy about that. So, whenever one of the two would notice her fidgeting in her sleep, one would stay to be sure she remained silent.

She looked over at Nikkea, who was nearly finished putting away his things. She took in the strong jaw, the jet black, neatly kept hair, and the round, jade-green eyes. He was a few inches taller than her and thin, but not like the rest of the slaves. He was all lean muscle, deceptively so, though he didn’t enjoy using it. His passion was knowledge, whether in books or word of mouth, the more he was able to learn, the happier he was. His face had livened up when he finally got moved to the library; if a handful of shabby scrolls and one or two books that were nearly falling apart could be called a library. It was the best they had, though, and it made him happy.

He met her eyes and gave a half-smile. She returned it with her own warm, encouraging one. Sometimes, it was easy for her to forget that he was the optimistic one.

He left a few moments after that, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She thought back on when they used to labor in the fields together; those had been the worst times. Every day was spent in the blistering sun, pushing plows through the scorched earth, or pulling pests from the plants, or harvesting meager bounties. The overseers were cruel with their whips and everywhere you looked, peoples’ eyes held nothing but despair.

She shivered and tried not to let the tears run down her cheeks. She was glad when Nommia entered a minute later.

Her younger sister was the polar opposite of Nikkea in everything but appearance. She was lithe, strong from the lifetime of hard labor, and had the same raven hair as her twin. Her ruler straight hair fell all the way to her mid back and Nina had always puzzled over how she could stand to have all that there to catch heat. Nommia’s heart shape face had the same big, jade-green eyes as her brother and her older sister, but hers held mischief. Her full lips were usually curved in a smirk or pursed in a scowl.

Where Nikkea was quiet, calculating, and even shy; Nommia was often loud, arrogant, and often didn’t think past the initial idea to find the consequences. She enjoyed working with her hands and went from working the fields, to building duty, and she sometimes even lent a hand in the blacksmith shop. The downside to her personality was that she also liked to fight; Nina couldn’t even begin to count how many times her sister’s quick wit and short temper had landed her in a fight with a guard and a whip to her back.

Nommia strolled through the door with her hair in dripping strands down her back. She smiled to Nina and pulled something from her bedroll.

“You should really learn to dry your hair,” Nina whispered.

“It’ll dry on its own,” Nommia shrugged. “It’ll cool me off in the fields.”

“You’re working the fields today?” Nina was surprised. “What about the smithy?”

“Can’t.” the younger answered simply. “I punched out ol’ Crooked Nose yesterday. Got him right on the nose, too! That ba-”

“Nommia!” Nina exclaimed quietly.

“Sorry,” she said quickly but didn’t sound apologetic in the least. “Well, he took me off smithy duty and carpentry for the next two weeks.”

“You should stop fighting,” the older girl said sadly.

“And you should stop fussing,” Nommia answered petulantly. “Shouldn’t you be mothering over the children now or something?”

She turned her back to Nina and finished brushing out her hair with the comb she kept hidden in her blankets. The small, marble comb was one of the only things they had left of their mother and Nommia would have killed to keep it safe; it was a wonder she hadn’t had to yet, after almost sixteen years of living in that hellhole.

Nina left the small, shabby building soon afterwards, deciding not to fight with Nommia for once. She went about her routine and her mind wandered back to the twins.

*Every morning was the same thing; Nikkea would find some place to meditate or open the library early and Nommia would either bathe or stretch out before getting to work. The three of them would meet to go to breakfast together and then the day’s work would begin and they would separate again.

They learned early on that getting up before everyone else was a benefit that was worth losing a little sleep. On the other hand, they had to be sure to wake late enough that the guards didn’t get suspicious and punish them.

The guards were sadistic and cruel. They looked for even the slightest reason to inflict pain.

**Honestly, she wanted to hate them, but she couldn’t bring herself to harbor those feelings for them. Nikkea felt utterly sorry for them and looked upon the men with sorrowful pity, while Nommia hated them with fiery passion. She’d voiced many times how she’d enjoy killing them all for the torment they put the slaves through.

Nommia was punished often though it never seemed to dampen her spirit. If anything, it made her even angrier. She was familiar with every form of punishment used in the slave camp. The worst was probably whipping.

They would take the slave to a raised dais in the middle of the slave quarters so that as many slaves as possible would see, they even pulled some from work to watch. They tied the slave’s arms to the platform and made them kneel on the hard, rough wood. They would make them remove their shirts, men’s would be completely off and women’s would be just pulled over their heads unless the guards were feeling especially cruel. And then, the pain began.

The punishments never had a specific limit on lashes. Some were two or three, others were more like thirty. It depended on whether the guard was having a bad day or had a grudge to settle. Along with lashes, the force the taskmaster used differed too. On a bad day, he could draw blood, and a good day he could just leave a little sting. The only relief they had was that there was only one taskmaster and he only took a preset number of slaves a day, which was announced at breakfast.



*please add Nina's routine. i was thinking she works with the children... maybe
** how's she feel about them???