November 15, 2008
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YACAS 1-2
Well well well, finally been writing stuff! Exciting I know. This year's NaNo in totally unedited form! Oh the joys.Summery:(Subject to change) Clyde is a demon trapped on a plane where the magic he has grown accustomed to is forbidden, and is trying to find a way back to his home plane to kill the one who sent him here. However, without the astral magic, he can't return home. With the technological advances of this new world, the continent that was once out of reach became within grasp and ripe for colonization. Here, there are tribes of people that may have a way around the Priest and Priestess, those who created this world and it's order so he can return home. This isn't without it's problems, as Fairfax, a demon from Clyde's home world, was sent with Clyde to make sure the other didn't return home. And with Isabelle, an elven noble who is opposed to slavery trying to abolish the seemingly only means Clyde has to the source of knowledge about the loophole to his own world, things only seem to get harder and harder the closer he gets to home.
Warnings:This story contains things of a religious nature that have been twisted. It also contains mentions of slavery, violence, abuse, and boys love.
Disclaimer:This is a work of fiction. The plot and characters belong to myself and the voices in my head. Any resemblance to any other plot, character, or even real life person or situation is by pure accident and not intentional. I also do not condone slavery in any way, nor abuse of any kind. Please keep that in mind. Enjoy!
Enjoy!
The astral magic was forbidden, making Clyde more irritable than he had been since his sentence to exile. Well, the fools would soon learn Faolan’s true nature, and then they would wish for him back. However, it didn’t seem that he would be able to get back there for some time, until he could find a way around those that governed his new ‘home’. That was the major reason he hated religions and those that decreed what was right and what was wrong and why he hated visiting such places. How ironic that he would be exiled to such a place.
Once he was able to, he went to the Wildlands with the first expeditions, to try to find out if anyone on that side of the sea had found out how to get around the annoying barrier set up by the Priestess and Priest that allowed only the dead and those in the Underworld to use the only method that he had to try to get back home. Not only that, but it seemed that Faolan had the mind to put his annoying subordinate Fairfax in charge to make sure he stayed exiled. Although the other demon made life interesting, he was still more annoying than anything.
Clyde looked out at the fields surrounding his home, and the slaves tending to the crops. He fanned himself, the smaller sun Flay just reaching its high point in the sky while Yutr, the super giant, just rising above the eastern horizon. He sighed a long suffering sky, he had appointments today and it seemed that the unbearable heat wave had yet to break. He hated going to the trade markets on days such as these. Where it made haggling much easier, standing on the block with his merchandise would be hot and uncomfortable. Especially if he was expected to be in formal dress per usual, and for some reason dark colors were still in style and with his light gray skin, it would make the day seem even hotter.
Standing up, the rocking chair seeming like it was moving of its own accord, he decided he should get ready now instead of right before he left, to try to get used to the heat before he would stand on that podium and show off those slaves that were ready to be sold. Yes, this was where most of his profit was made, but he still kept the best workers for himself for his crop counts and such. He was a business man after all and he had years upon years against those native to the planet.
“Senkora,” he said, his voice medium toned and had a sly edge to it that he could never seem to be rid of, even in the most serious of situations. “Please have the preparations for dinner done by the time I arrive home. Also, please prepare extra portions as we may have guests. If not, please make sure it is handled evenly to those who work today. They deserve a reward for working in this damnable heat.”
Senkora the mute bowed, ever near her master’s side since she was nothing more than an abandoned babe, disregarded because she was mute. Clyde raised her to be intelligent and be able to use some mental magic, although she would only command simple sentences with her limited telepathy skills. She was the head slave of the house, and conducted the business to make sure everything was well kept as well as to bring any problems with the laborers straight to him so he could resolve any conflict.
Putting on his coat and large brimmed hat, he went out the door and collected those that were to be sold that late morning, and headed off to the little town that was no more than a mile away from his plantation that grew silk plants and various food products that usually sold very well in the market place. He arrived at the little town of Sheystown a little over an hour later, trying to hide the fact that the journey was harder than it should have been.
He was only selling four slaves today, all in very good shape and would be very good for manual labor such as taking care of the house or fields, whichever their new owner would see fit. He didn’t like selling such good laborers, but the whispers of him having too many as it was finally reached his ears, and so he decided it was in his best interest if he shared a little of his ‘wealth’, even though he was the one making the true profit. As long as it effected his social standing in a positive light, he guessed it didn’t really matter either way about it.
The streets of Sheystown were busy with buyers and sellers of various goods and those trying to get their purchases home with either their children, pets, or slaves in tow. That was why he decided to live so much further out from the city, the hustle and bustle would have become too much for him and plus he wouldn’t have been able to see his profit grow like he had in the past few years since he built his plantation and moved from the other side of the world. He had to admit, he did enjoy the cleaner air than here, which was still cleaner than where he first came from. The industrial revolution was not something Clyde had looked forward to nor enjoyed when it did come. At least it was too early for it to migrate to this side of the ocean, or so he kept hoping. He had lived a lot longer than he looked and knew that some societies advanced more quickly than others.
He made his way to the center of town, the fair skinned slaves dressed in good clothing, as he was hoping that they would get some job that wouldn’t degrade them totally. They were profit makers, and to him, should look the part. He couldn’t help that others didn’t share his views. Maybe it was his old age finally catching up to him. Making him senile. That could have been what had him exiled in the first place.
In the center of town, a rather large group had shown up already, the show not to start for at least another sun tick according to the large dial near the stand. There were mostly buyers, but a few sellers like himself had shown up already, which was good. If there weren’t many at this time, then that meant that there wouldn’t be many others to take away the attentions of the buyers. He wanted at least two of his own to go for higher than even he thought they were worth, and if he played his cards right, they would.
Clyde glanced around the crowd, recognizing a few faces and some new ones, most likely fresh settlers from the other continent, as he made his way towards the back. There were at least five other slave traders, each with at least one and the one with the most had eleven. He couldn’t bear to sell that many slaves at once, at the risk of losing some really good workers in the mix. Then again, some weren’t trained properly and it wasn’t odd for masters to get rid of those that weren’t profitable or didn’t want to retrain them and let them be someone else’s problem. Maybe he would be making a few purchases himself.
As he was pondering if he would take out his purse or even just take a trade, he heard the high pitched squeal that would be from one of the area’s only ‘pleasure slave’ trainers in the area. Not only did she freak him the hell out on more than one level, she seemed to be touchy-feely with anyone she considered a friend or something akin to one. He didn’t feel comfortable with either option, but she was one of the highest bidders for his slaves, although he never wanted to know what became of them. He always hoped that they found something other than the rest of them that she usually bought.
“Clyde,” she said, her dress as revealing as ever, dyed in bright red which was only for high class people, although he wondered what the dress actually looked at before she massacred it. “I didn’t know you were going to be selling today or else I wouldn’t be either! You usually drain the pockets of anyone that is here and knows your reputation for some of the best trained and mannered slaves. I know the ones I…”
“Please, Amelia,” Clyde said, giving her a crooked grin. “I have told you before that I do not want to know what you do with the ones you purchase. I’d rather live with my delusions of what they’re doing than what you actually doing with them.”
“Oh that hurt,” the woman frowned, pulling away and looking at her own she brought for selling, Clyde happy he recognized none of them “Mine this time around are of the highest quality. I suggest you buy one for once. Might get you to loosen up a little.”
“I have no need for such…slaves,” Clyde replied, facial features clearly stating for him that he was appalled by the idea. Amelia wasn’t one to give up, but she decided that today, he wouldn’t’ be a buyer but stayed convinced in her mind that he would buy at least one some day. Even if he didn’t use them for what she and some others that lived in her mansion trained them for. “Besides, I’m sure those out there will appreciate their services more than I would.”
“You know, that’s not all they do, Clyde,” she smiled slyly. “They are very good at taking care of other slaves as well. In fact…”
“Please, Amelia, stop,” Clyde said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have no desire to buy any of yours as much as you say you like to buy mine.”
The worried looks of the four he brought relaxed a little as Clyde refused the offers, and how Amelia didn’t seem interested in buying any of them. The slaves Amelia brought were all in their late teens, dressed to show off their unmarked bodies and to entice buyers. One could tell easily between the two types and what they were meant to do. Even if they felt sorry for each other.
“Half a tick,” another woman, dressed conservatively in a dull blue dress. Age had taken its toll on her, wrinkles on her face and what was visible of her hands, solid, slate gray hair tied tightly in a bun on the back of her head. This was Vivienne, the one who organized the trades and made sure that no one became too rowdy. She was also the one who started and stopped the trades at her descression, although most of the time they ended after the last slave went to its new owner and the trader was paid the desired amount. The few times it had been shortened was once when a brawl broke out and the rest over bad weather where most of the trades went on in the town hall. “The order will be as usual, whoever got here first will be first in line and will continue down. No more traders will be allowed so you may all make your preparations now.”
“Small turnout today,” Amelia grumbled, looking at the few traders that had come after her. “That means the prices will be lower because there aren’t a lot here and they know we’ll be desperate.”
“You and I will do fine,” Clyde nodded, grinning as he looked at the podium. “The rest of them should be the ones worrying.”
“Self confident as always,” Amelia laughed behind a hand, something she only did when highly amused, which seemed to be very often. Definitely one of those that was distracted often and easily.
“Of course. When have I ever done badly at one of these trades?”
“Can’t say I remember a day.”
“I can,” Corey, a trader who never seemed to do very well because of the physical condition of his slaves as well as his inability to haggle properly. “In fact, I can remember one auction I actually did better than him. “
“That was a long time ago,” Clyde replied with a dry look. “However, I learned my lesson. It still seems that you haven’t learned yours. I’m sure one day you’ll get it.”
Corey shrugged, looking at his rag tag looking group. “Well, I have to say they look better than they could. Doc says that I’m getting better about my outbursts so hopefully that’s enough to maybe get a little extra out of the sales today.”
“Well, at least it’s progress,” Amelia nodded, looking up at Flay and Yutr. “Although I wish it would hurry up already. This dress is getting stuffy.”
That had Clyde and Corey just looking at her, and thinking along the same lines of ‘she’s barely wearing anything’. Amelia too wrapped up in taking a small white fan from her corset and fanning herself in the beginning of the afternoon heat, where it was usually said was inhumane for even slaves to work, at least not until the later afternoon when there was only Yutr left blazing in the sky.
After more waiting, the trading had finally begun. It seemed to take forever for those ahead of him to finally get their auctions and such over with, and he was finally on that blasted podium, in the full force of both blazing suns and the only shade he had was the large brimmed hat. He straightened his suit, and began his auctions, gathering a rather nice chunk of change for his laborers. With most of these buyers farmers or those in need of someone to care for the house because they were either too lazy to do it or too poor to hire an actual maid, he wasn’t surprised when he sold all four, and proud that he was able to up his prices enough to where he made a very nice profit.
With that, he said his goodbyes, collected what was due, and headed home, to hopefully dinner. It seemed that those that were out in the fields today were going to get a good dinner, since he didn’t feel like socializing too much. Too bad he didn’t know he was being followed as he whistled to the trees and whatever was around to listen.
Isabelle wasn’t a quiet girl, even at birth it was said by her father that she screamed up a storm and wouldn’t quiet down for days after. As a child, she was always the one shouting for the others to behave themselves or even to prove her point by yelling louder than they could. As she grew, she learned that being loud to the point of being heard over others wasn’t going to place her well in society, no matter who her family was, and that she needed to learn that there was a place and time for such things. So she started getting involved with causes in her middle teen hood, and had been in the anti-slave movement ever since.
She was a young adult elf now, pretty long golden hair and sharp forest green eyes gave her the illusion that she was nothing more than another pretty face in high society. When she was quiet, she looked pretty with her fair skin and often white frilly dresses and silver jewelry that had many suitors at her father’s door more often than not, until they heard her speak with that harsh voice of what she demanded of them, which had them running home faster than they came.
With great debate, her father, Denholm, head of the settlement, betrothed her to Maddox, the leader of the settlement with an enemy country’s son to strengthen the relationship between the two. Joel wasn’t a bad person, although he did own a slave as an attendant, Isabelle wasn’t too keen on the sudden engagement nor the fact that she was betrothed to a slave owner. She instead kept looking for at least one person in high society that wasn’t one like herself, but had yet to find them and therefore, the engagement and marriage was still valid until she did or the wedding day came.
She stood at the auctioning, flames burning in her eyes at the sight in the center of town where everyone could easily see and take part if they wished. Such a public display of total humiliation was unjustified to her morals and will and reminded her of what she opposed and what she was fighting for. Would it be too much for those who worked these beings from birth until death proper pay and even education so they could pursue other jobs or even gain some self respect? There was still so many that had yet to be found in the Wildlands, especially with how little was still explored and how many other beings could be integrated into their growing society that would perhaps never get the chance because of the booming slave trade business.
She followed Clyde Devor into the woods that led to his large plantation, on the small dusty path that would most likely cause her maid, whom she paid very good money to, headaches in getting all the dust out of her pearly white dress. She was pretty sure he didn’t know she was following him, and liked to keep it that way, since it would work in her favor. He had only sold four, which wasn’t as bad as some of the others, but his had sold for the most money. She had already tried to talk to Amelia Kovest, but that was a lost cause as the woman dared to try to sell her one of the poor slaves, although in hind sight, she could have at least set the poor creature free.
It wasn’t until he was half way to his estate that he noticed that someone was following him, stopping and looking behind him, not very surprised to find out it was Isabelle. They had encountered many times about the same subject, neither gaining ground but still able to remain civil towards each other in words, although not so much in thoughts. He was sure that they were going to have another one of their ‘chats’ which meant he was going to have to tell Senkora to make more for dinner so he could at least reward his laborers. She would never understand his point of view although he had caught the hint of hers more often than not. It all depended on how cooperative and objective he wanted his thoughts on the subject at hand be.
“Good afternoon, Miss Isabelle,” Clyde bowed, taking off his hat in a sweeping motion, revealing his dark brown, bordering black hair to the sunlight. Straightening, he put his grin and hat back on, hoping that today wouldn’t lead to any arguing. “What did I do to deserve the pleasure of such a fine young woman following me and not making a sound? Surely you must have a reason for doing so and not announcing your presence.”
“You have sold your slaves for the highest price today,” she replied formally. “I just thought it would be proper to congratulate you on your success.” She hissed the words like they were vile and made an equally sneering face.
“Then I must invite you for at least some tea and maybe even supper since you’re out this far. If you would like, I’ll even arrange a carriage to get you back to your father’s to make sure nothing will attack you on the long trek home,” he offered, although he was doubtful she would accept. At least to the carriage part. If she could, she tried to do anything without the help of slave labor.
“I’ll take the tea and supper but will take a hired carriage home,” Isabelle replied, crossing her arms stubbornly. She wasn’t sure how late it would be until she would finally get home, nor what would happen if her father found out that she walked home in the twilight if it became that. It may be better than when the settlement was built with less animal attacks on the roads, but they were not unheard of once both Flay and Yutr settled behind the western horizon. “You know my views on such things as using your laborers at any time you please and for whatever work.”
“As you wish,” Clyde replied, turning back around and heading down the path. “Please, do keep up, Isabelle. There have been increasing reports of animals seen near this area. Don’t want you to end up in their claws now.”
Gritting her teeth, Isabelle kept up easily, the path mostly smooth and with few obstacles in the way. It wasn’t long until the large white estate rose from the trees that gradually thinned as they reached the plantation. Most of the laborers were in their small cabins, resting from the intense heat and maybe even having a bite to eat before they were back out in the fields. They weren’t paid, but the hard work was bearable and Clyde was not a harsh master and even rewarded them if they had done a good job. Something a few that were bought by Clyde from other people were thankful for.
Isabelle always wanted to live in such a house away from the town, although with nothing in the fields but paid laborers and a house with a fully paid staff instead of those born into this warped society. However, until that day came, she was cooped up in a large house in the city instead, ever looking at the paved streets and horse drawn carriages that carried people to and fro from Sheystown and Victoria, the neighboring settlement where her groom lived. Shaking her head, she had to focus on the topic at hand, and try yet again to argue her point to Clyde, who seemed to be the only one in the town who at least considered her ideas, although he never seemed to take note of them after words.
They were greeted at the door by Senkora, who bowed to the both of them as they entered, as well as by the sweet scent of food cooking. She took Clyde’s coat and hat, hanging them up in the closet as she led them to a large room with a very high ceiling that kept the room at a tolerable temperature no matter how warm it was outside. Small tables, chairs, and couches were kept here, as well as a large fire place that was only lit on the coolest of nights, mostly during the rainy season. Soft burgundy carpet covered the floor, and the walls were a deep Persian blue with portraits of those that Clyde had deemed important as he lived out his exile on this world. It was where if he held parties where the guests could mingle while they either waited for the weather to clear up or food to be passed out, or even for quiet chats with closer friends or those wanting to speak with him.
“Senkora,” Clyde smiled at her,” thank you for preparing dinner, although I would like if you could make some extra as it seems as I have a guest. I would like the reward sent out to the tables of the cabins first, if you will. Also, could you tell the kitchen to prepare some tea and biscuits? I don‘t want to disappoint the guest.”
The woman nodded, heading off to make her master wish’s known to the others, Isabelle’s glare not going unnoticed. He dared to give commands while she was in his presence! Although it was nicer than most of the other master’s she had witnessed, it was still wrong in her opinion. Just because one person treated their workers well didn’t mean that all of them fared the same, of which she was fighting so hard for.
“Now that we are here, Miss Janeb,” Clyde started, taking a seat in a plush chair nearby a small table, with another one right across from him. “We may talk about whatever you would like.”
“Well, at least you treat your slaves as if they have dignity and some sort of soul and feelings,” Isabelle admitted. “But that still doesn’t quell my thirst for their freedom.”
“I figured,” Clyde nodded, leaning on the table with a propped up elbow. He knew that this little ‘chat’ could turn into an hours long debate, although he hoped that it wouldn’t turn into that. He did have other things to get done, such as take inventory and check on the fields. That and make sure that some arrangements he had earlier in the week were being taken care of. Such were the trials and tribulations of running two successful businesses at once.
“Don’t take me lightly,” Isabelle said, her voice raising, daring to go higher. “I’m not going to give up just because society looks the other way at how you people treat your laborers!”
“Calm down, Miss Janeb,” Clyde said, sitting up properly. “I still have many things to do before the day is out, and I’m sure you have a lot to say about how I run things here, and how society as a whole runs itself. However, raising your voice will gain you no ground with me, so please calm down.”
Settling herself down, smoothing out a wrinkle in her dress, she composed herself like a proper lady ought, as to gain respect from those around her. “Please, excuse my outburst,” she said dryly, not being able to friegn the apologetic tone at all. “I do get worked up on this topic and with so many not even willing to listen to what I have to say, I’ve been falling back into old habits.”
“Just as long as we are at an understanding,” Clyde nodded, returning to his leaning position. He rarely had company, although he wished that it was someone other than Isabelle at the moment. Even Fairfax and his annoying ways would have been an improvement. “Ah, Senkora. Thank you for the tea.”
The mute placed the tea on the table with little effort and left just as quickly as she came. Isabelle always had a respect for the slave, the woman able to slip in and out of places quickly and quietly without much notice from anyone else at all. She could have been so many other things, something better than her current life, or so she thought. Yes, those with such disabilities were still looked down on, one battle at a time, she thought, as it would be the best way to win against the ways of society.
“High quality as always,” Isabelle tried to keep the sneer from her voice, focusing instead on the portraits around the room. “you never disappoint a guest, do you?”
“I try not to,” Clyde replied with a sly smirk. “Now, are you going to yell at me to change my ways or are we just going to dance around each other like children at play? Although, I do believe that we have little to talk about let alone any new subjects. Maybe this will be done before supper is even finished.”
Isabelle scowled, wondering if following him here was a good idea after all. After all, it was plain to see that he wasn’t interested any longer in their impending conversation, and she really shouldn’t have strayed far from home without at least informing someone of her house. Rising, she curtsied, and tried to use a pleasant voice, although even she had to admit that it didn’t sound very becoming of herself.
“Then I will excuse myself,” she said, going to the door. “There is still plenty of day light left and I should make it home well before anything starts to move about. I thank you for the invitation to tea and supper, although I’m afraid that I won’t be staying for the latter.”
“have a safe trip,” Clyde said, rising himself to see the young woman to the door, glad that now he had time to attend to some of his business matters. Paperwork was always such a chore, but it had to be done at least on a weekly basis, something that he rarely looked forward to.
Heading to the kitchens, apologizing for the inconvience, he asked for regular portions since their guest had already left, so they just needed enough for himself, them, and those working out in the fields today. With that, he went to his small office room to do his much dreaded calculating.
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