Wanted: One Slave

[Darastrix]

"We wait," Shell affirmed, looking over the contents of Saif's nightstand curiously.

There sat a fresh incense stick, waiting to be lit, a pair of candles set into wooden candlesticks, and a black leather-bound book with an eclipse stamped into the leather. A prayerbook?

"I suppose he's a bit religious," she murmured. "The master isn't that I can tell."

[Kender Bard]

Wonderful, Faelan thought worriedly. "That can be a blessing or a curse, depending on the Force," he murmured quieted to Shell. "The Eclipse... well not unusual. I wonder how devoted he is." He'd have to watch his actions extra closely.

[Darastrix]

Shell spread her hands in a helpless gesture. She had no idea. Further examination of the room indicated that Saif was neat and organized, save when it came to his work area at the desk, had a fondness for incense and scented oils and the like, and of course, a fondness for jewelry.

Saif finally returned to his room, slamming the door open and pointing to Shell. "Attend my father," he said shortly.

Shell bowed deeply, her eyes wide, and hurried off to do as bid.

"You," he said to Faelan, as he walked, back stiff, to retrieve a crop from within the wardrobe, "remove your shirt and kneel."

[Kender Bard]

Oh hell, Faelan thought, a growl to his mental voice as he did as bade. This isn't going to be good.

Repressing a sigh he did as bade, removing his shirt and kneeling in front of Saif.

[Darastrix]

Saif walked around behind Faelan, and, without warning, began striking the slave's back with the crop. As far as beatings went, it wasn't very severe. Saif wasn't especially strong and he didn't seem to have his father's creativity for inflicting pain, or if he did, he chose not to employ it. It was just a repeated lashing with the crop, with little care regarding whether he struck the same place over again or broke the skin.

It wasn't punishment for Faelan; it was purging for him. He needed to vent somehow after dealing with his father, and now he had someone he could pass the evil done to him onto as well.

[Kender Bard]

Faelan grunted in pain and dug his nails into his palm as he took the lashings. He knew he should keep quiet, but, just this once, he had to understand why this was happening.

Through clenched teeth, he asked, "How have I-" he grimaced "-displeased Master?"

[Darastrix]

For a moment, there was no sound but the slap of the thin, leather-wrapped crop against flesh and Saif's own heavy breathing as he considered whether he should bother informing Faelan of his reason. Finally, he decided that not knowing would just encourage him to be difficult if Faelan thought he was just going to lash him at random.

"You haven't," he replied shortly. "This isn't about discipline or punishment. This is to relieve my burden of Evil." He had to wonder, though, how much was needed and for how long? The things his father did...shouldn't he have purged himself completely by now?

[Kender Bard]

Religious indeed, Faelan thought darkly and kept his mouth shut on the matter. There was nothing he would be able to do to avoid this sort of beating. His own breathing had grown a bit harsh as he bit back and swallowed every cry that tried to rise to his lips when he felt cuts opening up.

He kept his head bowed forward so his lanky hair would obscure the angry, resentful look on his face that had forced itself there unbidden. Faelan never could keep anger from showing.

[Darastrix]

Finally, the beating ended and Saif tossed the crop aside. He remained silent as his looked over his handiwork, wishing he understood more about how this aspect of his religion worked. He felt marginally better, so did that mean he had managed to transfer some of his own evil? And when he considered rubbing something more painful into the slightly oozing wounds he'd managed to inflict on his slave, he regarded the idea with contempt. Was he less evil, then? And, as it always did when he started thinking about the process of transference, the thought occurred that, since the Imperator took in Morilanta's collective evil, why did he need to do this at all?

"I don't understand," Saif breathed softly, then shook himself. He was not alone.

"Stay there," he ordered Faelan as he walked across the room to consider the several lidded jars that were scattered about. Saif selected one and removed the lid, blinking as the pungent smell made his eyes water slightly. He returned to his spot behind Faelan and crossed a leg over the other as he telekinetically began to apply the salve to the worst of the wounds.

[Kender Bard]

Faelan made a sound, a sharp, "ah!" as much out of surprise as anything. He regarded Saif with wide, surprised eyes... then quickly looked away to hide his scowl. For a moment, a brief moment, he thought Saif might be acting kindly towards him.

More likely, he was being given treatment to hide signs of his abuse or ready him more swiftly for the next beating.

His lip curled slightly in disgust, but he caught himself and stopped quickly. He had better make the correct gesture. "Thank you, Master," he murmured, struggling to sound genuinely grateful.

[Darastrix]

Saif gave an amused look at Faelan's wide-eyed expression. He imagined that Faelan hadn't been expecting to have his wounds treated with anything. At the young man's words, he only made a noncommittal sound. Slaves never meant it when they thanked you for anything. At least the ones who weren't broken past having a mind of their own, anyway.

Those should probably be bound, he noted. The salve would just get on anything Faelan leaned against and make a mess, or else make his shirt stick. Saif walked back across the room, this time for bandages, and returned to start wrapping the salved areas, again using his sign.

"This won't happen if you earn a punishment, but since in this case, you haven't done anything, there's no reason not to."

[Kender Bard]

You're weird, Faelan thought, though not unkindly. He was very perplexed. Saif didn't have to go this far.

Oh well.

"As it pleases you, Master," he said, not sure if being called kind would go over well all things considered. "I live to serve." Or serve to live, rather. "Does the room's preparations please you?"

[Darastrix]

Saif glanced around the room and nodded. "In the future, if there's any incense set out, light it," he told Faelan as he sat down to begin tugging off his boots. He might, on occasion, if Faelan pleased him particularly well, allow the slave to choose the scent he preferred.

"You may ask more questions, if you have them, though I don't guarantee an answer."

[Kender Bard]

Faelan shook his head. He was tired from a very long day and was looking forward to getting some sleep. "No master, I have none," he replied, bowing low. "Do you have any other tasks for me?"

[Darastrix]

"No," Saif said as he stood. He had considered keeping Faelan in his own room - there was a iron ring fixed to the wall in one corner for the purpose of chaining a slave to it - but keeping a new slave that close to him while sleeping.... No, best to put him with the others, though the thought of his property being available for his father to summon rankled.

"Take your shirt and go back to the basement," he instructed. "You'll sleep with the other slaves."