Welcome to the first installment of Captive’s Resolve, a gripping fantasy tale that delves into the depths of resilience, hatred, and the enduring spirit of freedom. This freewriting piece sets the stage for a story filled with tension, mystery, and the complexities of a world where power dynamics and cultural clashes shape the lives of its characters. As the narrative unfolds, spanning 2000-4000 words, we’ll journey with Reheia, a prisoner of the cruel rasayak, as she navigates her captivity and the internal struggle for liberation. This is just the beginning, and there’s much more to come—stay tuned to discover where Reheia’s path will lead.
She looked up, her eyes scrunching in pain at the sudden light. He flesh felt raw and stretched too thin over her bones, her muscles creaking as she shifted onto her knees in anticipation. She knew what was coming.
It was always the same. She had been in this spot many a time. They were predictable – the rasayak – the despicable whoresons. She hated them with a passion, a black unwieldy wave of loathing rising in her tamai, her throat tightening with bile, at the sight of her captors. She could hardly access her taimai these days, but the hatred still shone through the cracks of the bond. They had fed on her too long. She was sure that her day would come soon; when she would close her eyes, take her last breath and reopen her soul, now free, to her tamai, her beloved. She was looking forward to it.
They were coming now, the rough boots of their sailor garb, making harsh thumps in the silent world where she dwelled. It was a new one, it looked young, its neck long like the others, but pale, its thick square reptilian face hiding a nervousness she had rarely seen from these creatures. She turned her face up, her chin raised and contempt clear in her face.
“Gartruda fila humtei jognd furi,” it muttered, its tone unsure, a little shaken.
They always spoke in their strange guttural tongue, never in the Amirai, the common tongue of the Megayn.
She wondered if the barbarians even knew how to speak it, were even able to, with their long jaws and hideous necks, perhaps they did not have vocal cords able to form the delicate sounds of Amirai. T’was all for the better, she decided, she would have hated to listen to them butcher her mother tongue with their vile maws anyway.
She shook her head and replied in the same tongue, her mouth clumsy around the words and not quite as sharp as the natives, “Furin un Granada sin borok.” She confirmed that she was ready to comply with their demands, as she always did. This was her yoke, she always gave them her pshychaeia willingly. They hadn’t had to force her since the second time – she was their willing farm animal, their slave, but she was rewarded for it.
It was the same as always. The rasayak male, they were always male, she knew, none of their females was ever let out of the walls of their hideous red city, moved to sit in front of her and then grabbed her head with its massive talons. This one was graceless enough that it sliced her ear; leaving a line of red trailing down her neck. It gasped and mumbled a “Kruinmas,” under his breath, flinching away and re-centering his hands.
She burst into laughter at his apology, a fierce wild grin on her face, which made him flinch. “Chantara achtun, dog.” She ordered him to continue, insulting him in Amirai while doing so.
The gall of this creature, this fleabitten mongrel, this parasite, to act like a decent being while he reaped her pshychaeia for his own benefit, she would not spit on him if he was burning to death. The rasayak were all scum.
It continued and she gasped as her pshychaeia was activated and started swirling from her belly into her torso and up to her head, it leaked out of the orifices of her face, through her nose, her ears, her mouth into his open maw. Tears came to her form the pain, knives digging to her skull, a deep hole punched somewhere near her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. But Reheia did notice any of it, the pain was secondary. They had blocked her access to pshychaeia, with their collar and so this was the only time she could access it, the only way she could touch the golden healing light of her tamai. She focused with all her might on her tamai, to the exclusion of all else, she didn’t know how long it went on, but during that time she rested her mind in the embrace of the mighty bright golden stag that was her tamai.
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