6-Beauty of Anger

The Krasean rubbed his wrists after I unlocked his chains and the metal fell to the floor at his feet. I looked down to see his feet have been scratched and blood started to drip onto the marble floor. The crimson stream started from his back and I had to hiss after the man turned around. Red blotches blossomed on the back of his tunic!

I have lived with blood all my life, but the sight before my eyes was ghastly! I grab the man's shoulder to turn him around and pull towards me. I let go when he hissed and I stared helplessly as his shawl slipped off his head.

Steel eyes glared at me although I am no longer touching the Krasean. His nose flared and he looked wonderful. He kicked the shawl aside, which I did not expect. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Your back," I stammered. He raised his eyebrow and I gulped although my throat was as dry as the desert. I cannot explain why seeing his blood made the bile in my stomach flow out of my mouth, yet I spilled acidic juices on the white floor near his feet. I punched my chest and coughed up my brains, "What did they do to you?"

"The usual thing they do to misbehaving slaves. I was the last to arrive, but the first one branded and I was lashed seventy-five times. Your people knew who I was and wanted to prove to my people who held all the power." The Krasean did not betray his emotions with his eyes as he spoke with hooded golden eyes.

"A lot like damaging an army's morale by capturing their general," I muttered beneath my breath. In war, the goal is to win, kill and capture the big players.

"I'm sorry you had to endure that." I pause to pick and choose my words. I knew my voice grated on his ears and he must think I was mocking him. His narrowed eyes frightened me more than my enemies' eyes. Why? Because of his eyes which held no anger or remorse.

It was as still as the Acheron and like rivers, still waters run deep. His eerily tranquil eyes betrayed that much, but everything else about his mind was a mystery to me. The Krasean frightened me with a sweet smile that reached the tips of his ears. His teeth looked like their only aim was to blind me.

"I will let the new master and slave become acquainted with each other," Sebastian dragged the auction's host and his men through the House's main entrance. He turned to look back at me and wink. "Remember to invite me to your house party! Move your asses, you big and brawny bread loaves!"

"Why are you smiling like that?" I bent down to pick the temple's shawl up from the dirty floor. It was lucky to be a little further away from my bile and I shook the cloth to dust it. Then, I offered the scarf to its owner.

"Why are you sorry?" He snapped back as he snatched his shawl from my hands. The quickness and force he used allowed the cloth to give me rope burn. The priestly Krasean struggled to put the shawl over his head and close the skirt of his tunic.

I can see the auction organizers have paid more attention to him, giving him cheap but pretty accessories to wear in his curls and a small diamond was punched into his ear. Hesitantly, I move my hand to grip his chin and tilt his head. I felt like I would spill more than bile as I lifted the hair covering the back of his ears.

The shawl fell back onto the ground, barely missing my stomach juices.

"They had enough time to embed a diamond into a thorn and pierce your ear with this?" I wanted to touch the torturous accessory, but I have not washed my hands since last night when I took a bath. I press my tongue to my cheek. "This is a recipe for infection!"

I can only keep his oiled hair off the wound, wondering who had enough of my brain to conjure such an idea. "That must be painful."

"Why would you care?" The Krasean swatted my hand away from his head and squatted to pick up his sacred item, still using one hand to keep his skirt together. It was strange to see a male slave wear a long tunic that resembled a toga. As the man dipped his head, golden curls fell over his forehead.

My heart sank as I also sank to the ground, squatting in front of the tortured man. Did my people treat an innocent person like this to frighten the Kraseans? I did not like these doings and although he is from Cithen, I am now responsible for him. "Use both hands to keep the skirt closed at your pelvis and knees. No one wants to see a male's legs."

"You did, I saw your eyes focusing on my leg when the skirt tore." He spoke softly like a person from the temple. Although he was suffering, he still radiated warm and hopeful energies. He was an intriguing man. "Before you touch the shawl, pray."

"Pray?" I raised an eyebrow and retracted my hand to rest them on my thighs. I shrugged, "I do not know any prayer to say. The last time I prayed must have been when I was a wee child. I think praying is not something for a sinner like me -I still have a piece of my conscience left somewhere in here."

"You are a sinner, yes, but not without good reason like murderers and torturers. It is your job to be brutish, to kill. I know what life is on the battlefields: kill or be killed. You have the perfect opportunity to start praying again." He smiled and folded his hands together, nodding for me to do the same. "Ask for forgiveness or thank your gods for being with you."

"Why?" I looked down to see my hands were pressed together, but I cannot remember when or how. It felt very foreign to me although I have a memory of praying before a large tree beside a veiled woman.

"Do you want to put the veil on my head or not? Should I ignore my legs to pick up the shawl?" The Krasean reached for the cloth but I beat him to it. He sighed and slapped my wrist aggressively. His eyes bore into mine. "I said pray!"

"Forgive me, divine beings of the clouds. I have sinned against flesh and leaves, man and boy, dogs and donkeys, arachnids and horses, myself, my toe, everything I ever touched! Forgive me for the bile I spilled today, for wrestling with Sebastian on my bed," I narrowed my eyes and quit the act. "So, praying is not for me. Don't you agree?"

"You were not sincere and because you were forced to pray, I will refrain from judging you. However, I advise you to pray wholeheartedly next time." The godly Krasean tightened his broken skirt around his legs. His eyes looked serious as he leaned forward. "If you mock the gods you worship, you will painfully receive their wrath."

"I do not worship any god but myself. If there is no way to prove gods exist while I know I am here, why would I rely on something that can be a myth?" I carefully hold his veil between my fingers, slowly moving my arm to his head. "You look beautiful, more beautiful than other Kraseans."

"What?" The man looked up and I wanted to start a fire to jump into it. He held a finger under his nose as if to hide a snicker. His bright eyes narrowed, yet his smile glowed. "I prefer being called handsome, but I am not of Krasean origin. I know I am a Cithenian, but I cannot remember since when. If you really are Marik as they say, why are you not ugly?"

"Oh, my gods!" I rolled my eyes and tilted my head upwards to stare at a ceiling full of bleak frescoes. I quickly returned to acknowledge the Krasean. "Romero is the ugly general! Look at my face, where am I ugly? My raven black hair? Violet eyes? Is it my war-torn face?"

Taking me by surprise, the Krasean priest brushed my hair away from my forehead with his index finger. He stared as if he was a palm reader. "You've been a bright learner, well versed in the art of warfare, you speak seven languages, conquered Cithen and carefully hid your past life from your friends. Tell me truthfully, have you been suffering?"

My immediate response was to smile wide, but deep down I knew he was right. My heart ached despite being made of stone. I touched behind his ear and he touched my left cheek. I apologized to the man beforehand. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" A slight pause and his hand shot up to his ears. His yellow curls fell over his sunny eyes, casting bright shadows. His mouth reached impossible widths and shapes. "Oh, you sick bastard!"

"I am a sick bastard, but I would never do this to a slave. I have pierced my enemies' nipples and manly parts, but I would never do that to you or your people." I tossed the thorn earring across the room, smashing the House's iron emblem right in the center and it cracked.

I rubbed his blood between my fingers, shaking my head. "Did they try to scam me by making me pay a high price for you to have you die of infection?"

"Why did you pay so much for me?" He cradled his ear with two hands, ignoring the blood dripping from the reopened wound. He muttered a string of colourful words that should never be said by a priest.

"Let me look at your ear," I rose from the floor and called him up with a hand. Gracefully, the man stood with both hands still cupping his bleeding ear. I waited for him to release his injured ear. "Is your shawl clean? We should use it to stop the bleeding."

"It is not clean because of my blood. Rip cloth off this tunic and I'll dress my wound. You should have left the thorn as it was," the man sighed and moved to tear his clothes. What is he doing?

"No, you cannot use such dirty cloth! As your master, I demand you to stop and listen to me. Use your shawl because it is the cleanest cloth we have." I slapped my face with one hand, not understanding why I shouted at him. Of course, I was not worried about him!

"I cannot use the shawl!" Tears trickled from his winged eyes and I could not react to the odd situation. He snatched the cloth from his head to hide it behind his back. "I have damaged it enough by failing my people and smearing my blood on it. Please, do not use my title as your slave to make me dirty this cloth."

"Fine, but you are going to follow me to my house. There, I will use whatever I have to stop the bleeding. Even if I must use iron, you have to endure." I let the man hold his precious piece of fabric. I cannot understand why he is so worried about using the cloth rather than saving his earlobe, but I am not a priest.

"Are we going to your home?" I can hear the fear and anger permeating his voice. The Krasean looked around the House, eager to flee the suffocating building. He would like to leave, but he's hesitant to return with me to my house. "How are we going to reach your home?"

"By Sangrine, my trusty dragon." I whistled until the dragon poked his head through the entrance. I beamed proudly as I jogged over to my baby. "Sangrine! Are you well-rested so that you can carry me and that man over there? He doesn't look heavy, but looks can be deceiving. I learned from Sebastian."

The priest from Cithen gawked at my dragon. It seems to me that he never rode a flying mount before. His eye twitched and he raised his hand to point at my gigantic viper. "You ride that every day? Its name is Sangrine?"

"Not every day, but whenever I feel lazy or need to travel long distances. Are you unfamiliar with riding dragons? Would you rather ride horses?" I tried to comfort Sangrine who felt the man's fear. Although the beast is vicious on the battlefield, he craves affection off of the field. "Come closer and touch his head."

"I owned a dragon in Krasea, but I released her before you attacked us. I miss her." The Krasean pulled the tip of his shawl over his eyes and past his nose, hiding his whole face. I could not tell whether he was sobbing or chuckling. "Your dragon looks devilish."

I covered Sangrine's ears, hoping he did not hear the man's words. "He is a calm creature unless provoked! He is not devilish!"

The man turned around, holding his veil against his face. I had to shield my eyes from the bloody clothes and neck. I needed to know he would not escape so I parted my fingers.

With my right hand, I reeled him in and bound him with my magical chains. The blood was slowly sucked out of his shirt and ears until his skin was clear of red. "We do not have time to be acquainted with my dragon. A small auction will begin soon, we should go before anyone sees us."

I did not let the man voice his opinions and I started to find his thrashing around quite annoying. Using Blood Magic, I drained enough of his blood to render him unconscious. I dusted my hand as he went limp across Sangrine's back. "Peace and quiet!"

I hopped onto my mount, adjusting the Krasean between my legs. He was still clutching onto the white shawl. With one hand, I pushed his face against my dragon and we were airborne almost as soon as I settled onto my mount's scaled back. I held the bound Krasean in place, feeling guilty once I glimpsed his wide eyes full of fear.

"Pray to your gods if you don't trust my riding skills," I shouted over a roaring wind. Although it was quite loud, I can hear uncomfortable laughs.

"I am," the man shouted back. Of course, he was praying while sweat dripped down his forehead.

"Get familiar with this mode of transportation, I will be bringing you with me everywhere I go. Can you guess whether I'd rather walk or fly?" I laughed loudly, tilting my head towards the clouds. "The sun is bright!"

"I suggest you use your feet more often. Walking slowly lets you breathe and focus on meditation which helps keep your mind. When you can rest, enjoy life because yours is more unpredictable than the average man's." Like a priest, the man spoke softly but loud enough to be heard over beating wings. He squirmed in my red chains.

"I would walk, but I'm not as you said, I'm no average man. Walking amongst people is boring and annoying. In the sky, no one knows who I am and I can think while I ride Sangrine." I sighed. "Just me and him, together in the clouds."

Ever since I became a soldier of Vales' Elite Army years ago, I have been under the eyes of the state and the people. The first day I wore my dragon-riding armour, I was being looked at as if I had grown wings. I was treated differently and I did not like hundreds of eyes following me wherever I went.

If I fly, only one set of eyes can see me. The golden sun follows me wherever I go during the day whilst the grey moon follows me during the night. The sun shines on my back and the moon guides me through the inkiness of twilight. Only these eyes made me feel free and comfortable.

"You should interact with other humans more often." He paused as if he remembered something else and he added onto his words. "I do not mean your soldiers, I mean regular citizens. Why do you avoid them?"

"Why are you asking me?" I snapped as a quick response to his question. In reality, I do not know how to answer him and my head dropped. My hands moved to grip his bare shoulders. "I do not wish to tell you. I am not just a cold general, yet no one cares enough about my other life outside of armour."

"Ah, you would like them to see more than a harsh general?" I do not know why I nodded, but what he says is somewhat the truth. The Krasean nodded to himself and we rode on towards my house, in silence.

"My magic is almost wearing off and you'll start bleeding excessively once we reach my house. We are almost there and when we get there, you are going straight into the pool." I said firmly before he could protest. I was not prepared to see blood burst out of him, but it would happen unless his blood is different than others'.

"I can heal myself!" The Krasean shouted over his back as I pulled him off Sangrine while we were still in the air. He sounded angry and afraid.

I saw my house and ignored the man's shrieks as I flew through my barrier. I landed loudly on a stone path and looked around to see we are in my garden full of colourful flowers and lush trees. I passed through the main entrance, the atrium, my huge bedroom and even bigger tablinum.

We reached the peristylium (colonnaded garden). I turned around, still carrying the Krasean in one arm. My eyes widened as they follow a long trail of blood. In the center of the garden is a large pool where Sebastian and I had recently bathed. I unchained the Krasean and before he can react, I push him gently into the pool.

"It's freezing," the Krasean waded to the edge of the pool, clutching his upper arms as his teeth clacked together. There, he calmly stood watching the water around him turn red with his blood and I thought he had been frozen. He threw his shawl into a bush and with clothes sticking to his lean body, he raised his hands into the air.

"What are you doing?" I knelt on the marble rim of the pool, placing my hands close to his chest. His eyes were closed as he flicked water into my eyes with his long and slender fingers. "Fine, I will not bother you. When you are done, drain the pool and meet me for morning meals. I will find medical items to treat your wounds after I buy food for us."

"For us?" His eyelids flickered open and his light shone into my face. I was almost blinded by his eyes and I thought he looked pretty although there was black ink dripping down his tanned face. He looked down at the water and waved his hand around. "I am a slave. I don't eat."

"You were not a slave until yesterday. Look at me," I push my face into his until he looked up from his hands. The red water made me lose my mind. "I am your master, let's pretend that I truly am a master. As your master, I'm telling you to clean yourself and let me treat your wounds. What type of master does these things?"

The man opened his mouth to speak, but I rushed so that I can speak before him. I put a hand under his chin, "If you want to play the role of my slave, listen to me! When I say you will eat, you will eat! Your tunic is bloody, take those off."

I rise from my spot beside the pool and stalked towards my bedroom where a loaded wardrobe waited to be used. I opened the wooden clothes storage to be met with glistening togas, cloths, tunics, cloaks, sandals and gowns. Empress Aurora, Vales' fashionista, must have filled this wardrobe. Flashy clothing is her style.

I picked out random clothes, closed the doors and returned to the pool. I parted shimmering curtains and peeked through the slit, holding the clothes and sandals in my arms. There he was, I let out a sigh of relief. I did not understand why I hoped he stayed still, but I was shocked to see his bare back.

White rays of light swirled around his shoulders and waist. I can see strange gashes on his back and when I gasped, the light faded almost immediately. The Krasean turned to look at me and our wide eyes locked for a moment before he dropped himself into the water. I rushed to the edge of the pool and hastily put the clothes on a stone bench.

"I don't know if I saw right, but the lacerations on your back looks deep and nasty. What was that light swarming around you?" I hear him pull himself out of the pool and a weird squelching noise was made right behind me. I raise an eyebrow, seeing a wet tunic under my feet.

"No more questions," he said.

I looked down to see he held a silver dagger engraved with swirling symbols and I wondered if he planned to kill me. I grab whatever was behind me and screeched until my throat became raw. "What did I just touch?"

"Oh, my bodily sword." The crazy Krasean chuckled into my ear. He whispered angrily as he pressed his weapon closer to my neck. "Don't move or I'll really kill you."