Hun'ep

[Izznet H'unar]

“Dance for your supper, little lost one. You have no home here, earn your keep or be shuffled off with the others.”

Naturally the Matriarch would be cruel and harsh, that was the way of their kind. The fact she was able to walk, much less dance was by the affections of the Matriarch and her sister. They saw the insignificance of a small low class underling as weakness to the House, but the handsome nature of her features endeared her for ‘other purposes’.

Within her own House, Hun’ep was considered inferior. Her training was to provide entertainment to those who desired it. She was taught several styles of belly dance becoming a favored pet to the Matriarch. It was in this training she also learned the fine art of spy craft.

Her skills in battle were minimal at best, but the alluring beauty of her curves and sultry eyes gave her the perfect tools to be ignored and overlooked as anything other than an object. She was greater than her years suggested and had been passed along to several Houses within the Drow community that had all been infiltrated and conquered, thanks largely to her wit and cunning nature.

Her costume was of little significance, her markings were what set her apart. She wore a ‘veil’ across her eyes painted a deep midnight blue. The color was almost obscured by the darkness of her natural skin tone, yet it made her pale lavender eyes shine. Gold rune markings had been etched into her skin when she was very young. The scars had healed to a flawless finish and gold was introduced as way of sealing the marks.

Her face may have been marred away from perfection, but for ornamentation they were elegant and stunning. Using gold chalk residue mixed in fragrant oil she would add other designs to obscure the original scar. In this manner she was able to deliver signs and signals in plain sight.

With each new House, she gained in favor and reputation. It was only onboard a VIXN ship that her nature was revealed. Seducing men was somewhat simple, cater to their egos and they become putty to be molded. Women tended to be more clever to the wiles of a siren, and another Drow walking the top world was next to impossible to deceive.

Isabella saw Hun’ep without the makeup and the costumes, and was well aware of the manner of woman she carried. To the captain, Hun’ep was nothing more than cargo to be sold at a price. Only time would tell if there was a warning that accompanied the sale agreement.

 

[Izznet H'unar]

Generosity and kindness were meant to be exploited and manipulated, yet each time she had been the one on the wrong side of the bargain. Was she a fool, or just utterly useless just like her Matron said she was? The nagging words hounded her heart and soul causing turmoil despite the peaceful surroundings.

Guilt plagued Hun’ep as she sat with her feet in the warm waters of the new bath house. Was she worthy of such a position? Aedon barely knew her, why would he offer her such generous kindness? And why was the Matron Izznet showing her kindness? The questions swam in her mind threatening to drown her.

She wanted to run, but dared not risk losing the peace she found, or finding Penrose around a corner lurking for her. The bath house was glorious and smelled good. The idea of a job that didn’t require giving herself to men for a price was also appealing. To be sure, that notion seemed to disgust Aedon. He had no intention of having her sell her body.

He went against every story of a human male she had ever been told. He was lovely to look at, generous and kind with a hint of ferocity that boasted the ability to protect those in his favor. She wanted with every fiber of her being to remain in his favor. Coupled with the Matron Izznet, the two seemed a formidable pair. The look in their eyes when they looked at her was almost more than she could bear.

The longer they stood talking with her, the more they gifted. He offered her a place in their community! Hun'ep surprised herself at how quickly she accepted his offer. When he mentioned finding a mate of her own, she could feel the room grow dark at the very notion.

She was the least of her House, unworthy of a mate. Even a mate that was of no more value was beyond her reach. She was deemed utterly useless in her House. And this male had told her she was allowed to choose one for herself? Her? Was that even possible? The concept was heady and confusing. She could not see herself in a true light, how could she possibly be able to find a mate who would want to see her for anything other than a piece of property?

For the moment she would throw herself into the practice of massage. Much was required yet, and she was eager to prove her worth. A House that wanted her for skills other than being a female was staggering. But she would try.

 

[Izznet H'unar]

*the secret writings of Hun'ep*

So much had happened in a short amount of time, it was almost more than she could fathom. What an awful lot of petty bother over one who was barely known. Yet mixed with the insanity were glimmers of glory.

The ability to assist a dear friend made her heart sing. To witness the beauty of a rite that offered another freedom to find peace was extraordinary and an honor to be part. Her role was small, yet she felt the love that was offered embrace all who were present giving a glimpse at what was possible.

Hate and deception had long run wild through the lands and in her life. It was intended to destroy, yet in one moment rebuilding was shown to be possible. Her hope for her future was to be worthy of the gifts she had been witness.

 

[Izznet H'unar]

The lush green field that nestled deep in the woods had been a favorite picnic spot. Fragrant wild flowers filled the meadow giving the perfect spot for bees to dance from petal to petal. Cutting through the middle was a cool mountain spring that giggled as it tripped over rocks.

Crouched behind a boulder Hun’ep and her sister could barely enjoy the serenity around them. Thick billows of soot, ash and smoke marred the perfect sky with terror. Racing through the forest their mother was frantic to get her girls to safety, just through the river, they would be safe.

The panic on Mother’s face turned to horrifying agony followed by the blank stare of death as a flaming arrow turned her body into a boiling caldron of fire and oil. The screaming horde that pursued her broke trees and crushed the beauty under the rolling fury.

The girls were no match for mounted warriors hell bent on destruction. They chased them from their hiding place and ravaged their bodies as only men can do. As the field cleared two bodies lay lifeless, one the charred remains of a woman barely recognized as female. The other was a young girl too frail to withstand the massive size of the abusers.

A blood smear in the grass spoke to the one who ‘survived’ being dragged away. Her body bloody and bruised lay naked and limp across the saddle of the one who claimed her. The mocking laugh as she moaned in agony made him ride harder to see how long she would take to die.

She did not die.

Hun’ep was chained by hands and feet in the center of a dark dungeon splayed open for all to see. Her ‘master’ had won her in a bet and as his prize he gave his favorite friends all the time they wanted. She was useless piece of nothing and could be dealt with any manner they could imagine.

The later into the night and the more alcohol that flowed the treatments became more severe. The sound of cracking bone, the pool of blood, and the hissing gurgle of a punctured lung brought the celebration to an abrupt end. A medic was called to remove the toy from its hanging and tend to the wounds.

“Make It better, we’re not done!”

The break was mended enough to continue the ‘festivities’ but the fun had been stolen as she struggled to breathe.

“Fine! She will save for later. Bring the brand.”

The splash of ice cold water over her naked body shocked her to consciousness in time to see the red firebrand. By the time she realized what was going on the searing acrid smell of burning flesh mixed with the screams and laughter of her captors. As the flesh still smoldered he took gold dust and crushed it into the open wound.

Her tears and screams only brought out more laughs, the crushing of gold deeper into her skin only added to his merriment. Slumping back into unconsciousness, her skin still smoldering, the joy of torture was spent. They left her to be cleaned up by the other slaves.

Unlocking the shackles and letting her body hit the floor, the other slave was disgusted at the sight. Dragging her body off to a healer was out of duty with no compassion. Reaching the healer relief was in sight. She was finally clothed and almost warm as she lay in the bed.

Sweet release of deep sleep let her fade into the void of darkness. …

 

[Izznet H'unar]

Tip toeing through the battle traps one calls a soul can be both invigorating and devastating at the same moment. The soul is the essence of a being, the emotions, memories, life, desires, passions rolled into one. When it is severed or broken the individual can lose that which makes them unique and whole.

Many a villain wishes to break the spirit of one deemed inferior. The strength of a soul, or spirit, lies within the individual. When one is strong of spirit the amount of devastation that can be sustained can leave deep scars. The damage is shown not just in the physical body, but also in the fragility of the mind.

Hun’ep had all but forgotten the depth of pain associated with being a “Nothing”. When it was highlighted, quite unintentionally, the outcome was a masterful shut down of her emotions. The waking nightmare that took her on a meandering wander through the brush and thickets of Yew led her to as much unfamiliar as familiar ground.

Glimpses and flashes of memories, distant and recent, plagued her mind. Bright blue eyes that flowed with affection stared into her depths, yet she could barely comprehend the image. Faces floated in a surreal mobile of concern and friendship. Then at the end the emerald green eyes rimmed in crimson forced a peace to wash over the turmoil demanding the hurricane to cease.

Stirring from the deep slumber a wave of shame and embarrassment washed over her. Sobbing into the thick fur of the kitsune she realized he was not upset or angry, but deeply concerned for the damage that had been reawaken. The soft billow of smoke as his body turned from fox to human added an element of mystery in his embrace.

Holding her and rocking he quieted her tears. Gentle whispers spoken into her hair gave reassurances of her safety. Dark days of torture and captivity were over. The beauty of living was now at hand.