Kalin's Story
What did I get myself in to? Kalin wondered, as he had dozens of times in the day since he'd decided not to run away.
"Boy, would you-" Serissa began.
"No." Kalin interrupted her. "I told you yesterday, my name is Kalin. Kalin. Call me anything else, and I'll ignore you." He went back to the dish he was washing, turning away from her.
She rolled her eyes. "I don't see what the difference is," she muttered.
"Okay, girl, I'll explain. When the slavers took me, they told me I wasn't anything but a slave, that I was nobody and nobody would care about me ever again." He paused for dramatic emphasis. "They said I was so unimportant, I didn't even deserve a name; they took it from me."
"So?" she asked.
He slammed a fist down on to the counter, trying to ignore the urge to strangle her. "So I am not nobody, damnit, and I have a name. And no one can take that from me - not you, not your father, no one."
"Okay, okay!" she agreed, trying not to set off his temper any worse than she already had. "I just don't see why it's so important to you."
"Don't see or don't care," he muttered, again wondering why he'd stayed.
[OPENING CREDITS]
Episode 3: An Unexpected Teacher
Elthis observed the lodge critically, then nodded. "Not bad work, Serissa," he admitted. She nodded her thanks, as he turned to Kalin. "You're still here."
"What, I was supposed to leave? Sorry to disappoint you, I'll go now-" he took a few steps towards the door, until one of the Warriors stepped in front of him and with a vicious kick knocked his feet out from beneath him. Kalin hit the floor on his back, the wind knocked out of him for just a moment. He shrugged, folded his arms behind his head, relaxing. "It's a nice view from down here," he commented. "Even the ceiling has been cleaned."
The Warrior glanced at Elthis, who nodded slightly. Kalin caught it and was able to prepare himself for the kick that slammed into his ribs. It hurt, although he was grateful nothing snapped. The gratefulness turned to anger as he was kicked again, this time in a much more delicate area. "Temper, temper," he snarled after he got his breath back and had let out a few curse words, then, "What did I do?"
"You spoke," the Warrior replied, his voice full of self-righteousness and disgust. "Your voice is obnoxious."
The slave pulled himself into a sitting position. "Yours is lovely too, but you don't see me complaining," he answered, bracing himself. This time the kick connected with a shoulder and was strong enough to knock him back to the floor. The Warrior planted a foot on his neck, and pressed down with it. Kalin gasped for air, gurgled, and wondered how long this would continue.
"You will be silent unless told to answer, is that clear?" the Warrior demanded. Kalin didn't have the ability to nod or answer, and the Warrior smirked. "Well, weren't you saying something?" Kalin opened his mouth, as if he was going to try to reply, only to have more weight applied to his neck. "Well?"
He shut his mouth. "Good. See that you keep that in mind." Kalin was too busy gasping in air and too smart to go through that again to say any of the responses that came to his mind.
I don't like him, Kalin thought to himself, trying to think of the man's name. Nothing came to mind, and he decided to ask Serissa later.
After the Warriors had passed into the kitchen to enjoy the meal he'd planned, Kalin stood. Serissa was still there, watching him in wonder. "Why did you do that?" she demanded. "He might have killed you!"
"I'd rather die than live like his dog," he answered, then, "What's his name, anyway?"
"Soran Candis," she answered. "He scares me more than any of the rest."
Kalin rubbed his neck. "I can see why," he answered. "You'd better go join them. They shouldn't hear us talking too much." She nodded, and made her way into the kitchen.
Is it worth fighting the dogs for table scraps? Kalin contemplated, then added, Is it worth the pain I know I'll end up with? He shrugged. Whether it was worth it or not, it was his lot in life, and there was no way he was going to let that Warrior... Soran... Think he'd been scared.
Sighing, he stood.
The next several weeks jumped back and forth between Hell and relatively good for Kalin. The band of Warriors would go out hunting for several days, and then return for several, and Kalin went through a lot of pain while they were at the lodge.
He found himself particularly detesting Soran Candis, who was as vicious towards him as Elthis himself. Excluding Elthis, the rest of the Warriors were content to let him be as long as he didn't bother them, as they would be with most slaves - though Kalin wasn't content to go long without bothering them.
"You seem to get some sort of sick pleasure out of being hurt," Serissa had noted once, after asking why he bothered.
He'd shrugged and replied, "They seem to get a sick pleasure from hurting me, so it works out well," and refused to wonder if it really was worth the pain. However, alone at night, he hadn't been able to block out the question thoughts.
I swore a vow to the Goddess, I swore that I'd escape, that I'd avenge my family, that I'd make the Warriors pay for this. But... I haven't escaped, not even when the chance arose. I barely remember my family. And the best I can do for making the Warriors pay is make a few sarcastic comments, and then I end up in pain.
Why do I bother? Maybe I am a masochist.
He wondered what his family would have thought of him and his attempts to carry out the vow. Would my own mother even recognize me? Would I recognize her? he wondered, trying to remember her face and her voice.
It took a long time, but eventually an image came to him. She was smiling, holding a yellow flower he'd just picked for her. She had deep blue eyes and her shoulder-length black hair was streaked white, and pulled into a small pony-tail at the nape of her neck. A scar had run down one side of her face, but Kalin never noticed it as marring her beauty. For a moment, he could remember the sound of her laughter, her voice saying she loved him -
And then it was gone.
I don't even remember her name.
His father was even more illusive; try as he might, nothing more than a hazy picture of someone with short black hair came to his mind. He sighed bitterly, giving up.
What's the point? he wondered again, as sleep finally claimed him.
Kalin stumbled in to the hut after sundown one night, having finally returned from the hunting trip. The horse he'd been forced to ride had left him in more pain than anything the Warrior's could have managed, and he collapsed into his bed.
"You're still alive," one of the two slaves who shared the hut commented. "What a pity." Without looking up, Kalin recognized the voice as belonging to the loyal of the two.
"Sorry to disappoint you," he answered from between clenched teeth, wishing he had the energy to fight.
"You look awful," the other slave cut in. "What did they do to you?"
"Made me ride an evil demon beast from Hell." He let it hang in the silence for a moment, before clarifying, "A horse."
"So there is something you can't do," came a mocking comment.
Kalin's reply was decidedly obscene, and suggested that perhaps the loyal's sexual preferences ran towards hoofed creatures.
The third slave just sighed. At least they aren't trying to kill each other this time...
Preparation for breakfast the next morning began as usual. Serissa gave Kalin lots of pleading looks, and in answer, he mouthed the word "Later." The kitchen workers ignored Serissa and breakfast continued to sit uncooked -
And then, Soran Candis strode in to the kitchen, looking annoyed. "Problems, Lady?" he asked. She shrugged helplessly, as he glared around at the slaves, and found Kalin perched on a counter. His eyes narrowed. "You. I might have guessed."
"You might have, if you were a good deal brighter," Kalin replied, and as always, didn't bother to fight back while Soran took out his aggression. He was left lying on the floor, feigning unconsciousness, as Soran scared the other slaves into obedience. And, for once, breakfast was on time.
Damned if I'm going to help Serissa become anything like that, Kalin thought, as Serissa stuttered a thank you. Once Soran had left the room, Kalin sat up. "What a bastard," he commented. Most of the slaves muttered agreement.
* * *
Serissa sat on her bed, listening raptly to Kalin's "lesson." He was making it up as he went along, occasionally throwing in something she might find useful and quoting his own experience. I can't believe I'm doing this, he thought as he spoke.
"I don't understand," she interrupted. "You want me to start eavesdropping? Why?"
"You can learn a lot by listening in," Kalin said. "And knowledge is the key to power."
"But-"
"Listen. If I knew something dark about someone's past... Say, Soran Candis-" he spat the name- "and I threatened to tell everyone if he touched me, he'd have leave me alone."
"Why?"
Kalin bit back the urge to call her an idiot, then explained slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "If I knew something he didn't want anyone to know, he'd have to do what I said, to keep me from tell people."
"You'd tell people's secrets?" she gasped.
What an innocent. "If I had to," he said. "If it would get me something I needed."
"That's selfish," she commented.
"It's smart," he snarled in reply. "If you're not going to work with me, I'll leave and you can work this out on your own."
"No!" she exclaimed before he could leave. "Sorry. It just doesn't seem right to me, trying to find out things you shouldn't know. Especially you, I mean, a slave..."
Again, he resisted his urge to strangle her. "It may not be right," he said, annoyance in his voice, "but it'll keep me from getting killed. It can do the same for you."
"No one is trying to kill me," she said.
He clenched a fist, wanting to scream. Why did I agree to this again?
[EYECATCH]
As the next few weeks progressed, Serissa proved herself to be more intelligent that Kalin had given her credit for. She caught on quickly and soon her questions were how to do things, not why they were necessary.
Kalin felt guilty every time he explained anything to Serissa, fearing she'd turn in to someone he'd hate with the newly found knowledge of how to exploit others. She, on the other hand, loved every minute of it.
Serissa would later remember those few weeks fondly. In her memory, they always seemed to be a montage of listening at doors and keeping track of information. It took her a long time to comprehend how ill-gotten knowledge could come in handy, but Kalin always found a way to point out how it could be to their advantage.
She overheard several maids gossiping one day, discussing a well-known and very respectable Healer, who'd apparently had numerous affairs with his hired help. His wife would kill him if she found out, and it would be bad for business, Kalin explained.
"So..." she'd guessed, "If we ever need a Healer and don't want to let anyone else know, we can turn to him. He'll have to do it, or else, right?"
"Right," he answered, ignoring the guilt in his stomach. She gave him a bright, satisfied smile, beaming with joy. He smiled back, surprised to find himself happy for her. He was very surprised as he realized he actually liked her, more than he'd liked any one in a long time.
He hadn't had a close friend in so long... There hadn't been any point; he'd been shuffled between owners and unable to keep in contact with the few he'd made. He'd learned it was easier to stay distant- friendly, but distant - than to be close.
And yet, there was something about Serissa that made him want to be close to her. He found he was happier near her, no matter how sore he was from whatever beating he'd taken. Something about her presence soothed him.
It was driving him insane, and he didn't understand it at all. I should hate her, he thought one night, after they'd spent an afternoon together in the garden, him working and her relaxing. She'd asked him about what kinds of flowers they were growing, and how to make them grow, an had been genuinely impressed at his knowledge.
I should hate her. If it wasn't for her, I might have escaped in the lodge. She's somehow tricked me in to helping her become like everyone else who I hate. But every time I'm near her... I just can't let her go.
If only there was someway to help her and keep her the sort of person I know now... Sleep had, eventually, claimed him but it took longer for his fears to vanish.
When they did, it was as a result of her running to him in tears. "Kalin, please- you have to come help!" she cried.
"What's wrong?" he asked, as she lead him to where a young woman, covered in bruises and a little blood, was lying. She had a lovely face and silky black hair; her skirt was torn and she was lacking a shirt. Kalin realized what had happened to her and felt his stomach knot with repulsion. It was the same thing he'd saved Serissa for the first time they'd met.
"Who did this to you?" Kalin demanded, even as he pulled off his shirt to hand it to the girl. Serissa helped her in to it, and she clutched Serissa, crying hysterically on her shoulder.
"I... If I say... H-he'll kill me!" she managed between sobs.
Serissa hugged her protectively. "It'll be okay," she promised, looking up at Kalin. "Right now, we should...?" her voice trailed off questioningly.
"We should get you to a Healer and make sure you're not going to be with child," he declared. "Can you walk?"
"Y-yes, but no H-healer would... I'm just a slave, wh-why would-"
"Hush, now, Serissa said, helping the girl stand. "You're not just anything, and we..." she paused, then changed it decisively to, "I know a Healer who will help you if I say so."
"Y-you'd do that for me?" the girl asked in amazement.
"Of course," Serissa answered, as they began walking. Kalin lead the way; he knew how to sneak out well enough and assumed they wouldn't want to be noticed.
The girl was okay after her trip to the Healer, who had (very grudgingly) supplied her with herbs that would keep any pregnancy from carrying, and after he cleaned out her scratches and applied ointment to the bruises. Kalin and Serissa walked her to the hut where she lived with her parents.
Her parents had very different reactions. Where her mother burst in to tears and began to thank Kalin and Serissa for being so kind, her father had begun to scream at Serissa in anger. "You're people do this, girl!" he'd accused. "They think they can take what they want from us, do what they want with us, and no one will stop them!"
"Please, sir, I-" she'd stammered, but the man continued until his wife and daughter's crying pleas forced him to stop.
As she and Kalin walked from the hut, she began to cry. "Are you all right? He didn't need to yell like that, you didn't-"
"It's not that," she'd sobbed, as Kalin lead her into his hut. Of his two roommates, only the friendly one was there, for which Kalin was grateful.
He raised an eyebrow. "Ummm..." he'd said.
"Scram," Kalin answered, digging around in the pile of straw that was his mattress and producing a stolen coin. He tossed it to his friend, who caught it and examined it.
"You got it," he decided, pocketing the coin and leaving.
Kalin helped Serissa sit, supporting her with one arm as she seemed ready to collapse. "What's wrong, Riss?" he asked.
"That man was right!" she cried, burying her face in her hands. It was muffled, but he managed to hear her continue, "People do horrible things, and there's nothing I can do to stop them! What happened to her was... She... She didn't deserve it, Kalin, but it happened anyway."
"It's okay, Serissa. You couldn't have stopped it, you-"
"And the worst part is," she declared, interrupting his attempts to comfort her, "that the man who did this won't even get in trouble!" Her tears stopped abruptly. "This is why I want to learn to be powerful," she declared. "I want to stop things like this. I don't want people to get hurt."
Then the tears were back, and Kalin found himself kneeling in front of her. He reached out to pat her shoulder comfortingly, and she leant her head against his chest... It turned in to a long, tight hug, and when they pulled apart, he kissed her forehead. She'd stopped crying, but looked pretty awful as she gazed up at Kalin through tear-soaked lashes.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For helping, for..."
"Thank you," he corrected. "For bringing me to her, and for helping her. I... I was proud of you when you told her she wasn't 'just' anything. You... You're not helpless any more, Riss."
"I know," she said, smiling despite the day's events. "I know, but I've got a long way to go. But at least I'll have you to help me."
"I'll be here," he promised, with no trace of guilt. "I'll help you the best I can. But someone is probably looking for you... And me... Seeing as how we both missed dinner - cooking and eating."
"Then we're both going to get a beating," she groaned, depression coming back to her. "Knowing my father."
Trying to lighten the mood, he stood and offered her a hand up. "Well, you can always blame me," he offered. "What's a few more scars on my back, after all?"
The realization that he still wasn't wearing a shirt came crashing down on Serissa, who blushed furiously. Her eyes traced the scars that criss-crossed his chest, and when he turned around to retrieve another shirt, she could see even more and wondered, yet again, why he brought it on himself.
If I become powerful, she promised herself, people like Kalin won't get scars any more.
[CLOSING CREDITS]