the ritual- chapter 4

Murphy

     The pain in my head radiates down to my shoulders. I open my eyes and immediately regret it when the dull throbbing sensation pierces my vision. Much to my relief the room stops spinning. Slowly the space around me comes into focus. I look around and can't help but wonder Am I dead? If so, I always wondered what heaven looked like. I just never thought it would look like this. Everything is white: from the walls, to the bed I'm lying in, and the nightgown I'm wearing.

         A blonde woman sits in front of me with one leg crossed over the other. She has a perfectly sculpted face; with an interesting shade of dull grey eyes, a straight petite nose, and high cheek bones. To complement that she has skin that glows despite the lack of light inside of the room. She makes a strange noise with her throat. I blush hoping the beautiful stranger didn't notice me staring. Even though I don't know her I feel a connection towards her. Which is impossible because we are both on different sides of the social class. She raises a plucked eyebrow oblivious to how awestruck I am. I look down instantly remembering my place. Is she the angel of death? Has she come to collect my soul? It would make sense. Her beauty is unearthly.

"My name is Auxiliadora De Luka, but you may call me Axel." the lady, Axel says. Her voice soothing to my ears.

       I shake my head trying to clear my brain of this strange effect she has on me. "Am I dead?" I ask still in a daze. I cringe at my sudden outburst and instantly regret it. I should not have spoken. I broke the number one rule. Never speak unless spoken to. Hesitantly I look up this time making sure not to stare into her eyes.

         Surprisingly Axel does not chastise me for speaking out of line. Which is something I would expect from someone like her. Instead she cocks her head to the side. An amused expression on her face. "Heavens no." Her voice takes on a more serious tone as she speaks. "The Masters of Whitely needed a new servant. The last one, well, she left. Her departure was rather sudden. The betting grounds were over, but they managed to pick you out from the group."

          Somehow the more I try to remember the events of that night the more my head hurts. Dehydration and malnutrition must have gotten to me more than I thought.

 Suddenly the walls around me start to cave in and a wave of nausea washes over me. I don't know why but I feel like throwing up.

         I push the blanket off and put my head between my legs. I take a couple of deep raged breaths and wait until the pounding in my head lessens. I probably caught a bug in the betting grounds. A lot of the enslaved get sick. I hope it will go away before I meet my new masters. I don't want them thinking I'm too ill to work for them. They would kill me within seconds if they thought that.

          With that thought in mind I slowly sit up and notice Axel watching me. Eager to distract myself I stand up and look around the room with wide eyes. Everything seems so foreign and expensive. The furniture looks brand new and doesn't have any scratches or dents as opposed to the furniture at the house I grew up in. Not even my old masters house was this lavish. I didn't notice it before but the bed is huge with at least twenty pillows lying in a neat row. I grimace at the sight of the once white sheets. I am pretty sure the stains won't come out easily. I feel bad for whoever has to wash them. Across from the bed are a huge black dresser and a vase on top filled with fresh flowers. I smile at the sight of it. There were no living plants in the betting grounds. I thought I would never see fresh flowers ever again.

      I walk closer to the dresser. The color of the flowers are a deep blue with purple streaks. They don't look familiar. I wonder what they are called. I deeply inhale its perfume-y scent and instantly regret it. My nostrils itch and my eyes feel watery. I rub my nose with my palm and walk away from the dresser. I don't like the way they smell or the sensation I get from them.

"Is this my room?" I whisper in awe. I don't know why I asked that. It kind of blurted out of my mouth. That has been happening a lot lately. Oh well. I cannot take it back. And I cannot make her answer me either. Surely no one would put an enslaved girl in a room as elegant as this one. I never had my own room before. In my old masters home I slept on a cot filled with hay and grass. And before that I shared a mud bed with my family in the hut I grew up in. I never imagined something like this existed until now.

"Yes it is." says Axel. The boredom is evident in her tone.

       She must be used to such extravagance. She probably thinks I am a country bumpkin who has never taken a bath. If that is how she thinks then she is not wrong, except for the bath part. It would not look like it but I take cleanliness very seriously. If not I would get an infection.

      Since the enslaved do not get hospital visits so many of us die at an early age. When I was young and still lived as a carefree girl, a villager from my tribe taught me how to make my own herbal medicine from plants and leaves. If anyone found out I would be accused of witchcraft, which is ridiculous because witches aren't real. That is why I keep my herbal remedies a secret. It has gotten me this far and I do not intend on getting caught.

       I walk straight ahead and open one of the two doors. There are clothes hung on a wire. I pick up a sparkly dress and hold it against my body. I trace a finger over the shimmery beads. I have never seen something so beautiful. The tag is still on it. Whoever bought the dress paid a hefty price. No matter how much I saved up it would never come close to the number on that tag.

      I never owned a dress before. Let alone wore one. I wonder where a person would go wearing it. Probably to a fancy party. I sigh wistfully and place the dress in its respected place on the rack. I should not think of such things. I never cared much about materialistic items before and I can't start now.

      I turn away from the clothes and notice a rack of shoes on the wall. I grimace. Some of them look painful to wear. How can all of this be mine? I own none of these things. All I had were rags the bald man at the betting grounds gave me and I don't even have those anymore.

I walk out of the closet and close the door behind me.

I open the other door and walk into what must be the bathroom. It is as big as a bedroom. There are white candles on the counter and a vase of fresh flowers sitting on top. This time I do not smell the flowers. My nose still tingles from before.

      I look to the left and notice a white tub. It is deep and had holes in it. I shake my head. Why would anyone buy this? How does the water stay in? How do they expect me to bathe? Surely it is broken. That is the only possibility. Unless I am meant to have a broken bath. That would make sense. An enslaved girl in a opulent household will not be treated any differently. Well then I suppose I could use the sink. After all it practically has the same use as a tub.

I walk out of the bathroom and close the door slowly behind me.

      This is all just too much. I pinch myself in the arm just to make sure I really am alive. A red mark stands where my fingers were. Axel wasn't lying. I'm not dead and this isn't heaven. There are so many things I want to ask. Like what happened to me? How long have I been here? Where is here exactly? And most importantly what do they want from me? I doubt Axel would answer any of my questions.

Axel got up and smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in her form-fitting skirt. "Get dressed. We have wasted enough time." Axel says and leaves the room.

Someone had put clothes and a pair of shoes at the foot of the bed. I peel off the nightgown and change.

      Whoever picked it out got the size right. There is a pair of black shoes on the floor. I never wore shoes before because I didn't have the money. One time I tried wrapping leaves around my feet but it would tear so easily. In the end I would just take them off and end up walking barefoot. I never minded the fact that we were destitute. I liked the feel of dirt and grass between my toes. It made me feel connected to the earth. Now I have no choice but to wear them.

      I put them on one by one. They are a little small in the toes but I manage to walk in them. To say they feel weird is an understatement. My feet are cramped and sweaty. There are no mirrors in the room so I can't tell if I look decent. I feel sticky and I'm sure I don't smell so great. What I really want is to take a shower before I meet my new masters. I want to scrub myself clean of the dirt that is all over my body. But it is obvious Axel does not have time for that on her schedule.

It's now or never. I grasp the bronze door handle and turn it. As the door opens I notice Axel tapping her heels in my direction. Her face smooths just a little when she looks me over.

"It fits. Good." Axel mentions. "Your Masters would like to see you now."

       I follow her through a long and narrow corridor. The glow from the wall candelabras provide enough light so that I can see in front of me. I want to stop and look at each painted portrait that hangs on the wall but I keep on walking. If I have time I will look at them later. The only noise I can hear is the sound her heels make with each step she takes. I have to run just to keep up with her. Along the way I take in every detail. The walls are painted in a warm gold color, the floor is shiny, and there are black leather couches to sit on. I walk down the staircase and trip on the last step. I manage to catch my hand on the railing before I embarrass myself in front of Axel. I don't want her thinking I am a klutz. Especially since she is already not too fond of me.

       I head to a stop behind her as she knocks on a large wooden door. I can tell the door was intricately carved by the hands of a woodcarver. My pop was a blacksmith. On occasion I would go to work with him. No matter how I insisted pop never let me near the shop. He would instruct me to sit outside on a stool until lunch time arrived. Across from where pop worked was a wood shop. Being the curious soul I was I would sneak into the tent and browse at the bowls that were beautifully made wishing I could afford one for momma. There were other things on sale besides bowls such as statues and chairs. All of them as beautiful and unique as the last. The burly men never chastised me like pop did. Occasionally I would help by gathering wood or lacquer gloss on the finished pieces. One day pop caught sight of me piling wood near the tent. He said a mans work is too dangerous for a girl. Despite being scolded I could tell he was proud of the fact that I took interest into more than just housework like all the others girls my age did. I was never allowed to leave mommas sight again.

      Looking at the door I can see a crescent moon and dozens of six pointed stars with a large wolf standing on top of a hill. The wolf has a sword and shield at its feet. It stands strong and proud but its eyes look faraway as if its looking somewhere in the distance. Below are words I do not recognize engraved in small letters: lex est denique vox. I wonder what it means.

Finally the door slowly creaks open.

I follow behind Axel and keep my eyes to the ground. From an early age I learned the art of invisibility. It has kept me alive so far.

A loud buzzing noise jerks me away from my thoughts.

"This is her?" someone demands.