Badriya as-Sahra is sick of piling up camel dung and picking people's pockets for a living. Her world discriminates against women and orphans, and it is only her damned luck that she happens to be both. She yearns for more but can't do anything else...
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Ayaz slashed the last slave traders' neck with his curved sword. They fell to the ground with the others, a pool of red growing around them. Ayaz wiped his blade clean.
It was the dead of night, the perfect time to commit a crime in plain sight, and so Ayaz and a few of his trusted crew made night watches like this one. Those with evil intentions thought they could get away with their wicked deeds.
Oh, how wrong they were.
Thanks to his initiative, Ayaz and his men just raided a hidden cave housing tens of innocent citizens taken from all over Zecaj. Half were men to be sold as extra labor, while the other were young women to be sold to brothels for pleasure-seekers. Sentenced to live the rest of their lives as slaves, they were to be treated as such by their soon-to-be masters in or out of the country.
But now, they were all free.
As soon as his men finished piling the dead bodies behind a huge rock, Ayaz freed the captives from the ropes binding their wrists and feet. One by one, they thanked him for his bravery and for liberating them. Some even burst into tears, grasping his hands and chanting the word 'savior' as he passed by.
How wrong these people were, for Ayaz was no savior they thought he was. He was as vile as the people who tried enslaving them, for he shed blood more times than he could count. It was a necessary evil for the greater good, but it frightened him sometimes. He found himself savoring the sound of his enemies dying.
They should see him as a monster.
Strapping the sword to his side, Ayaz climbed the highest rock that he could find. He pulled down the mask concealing his features and turned to the freed citizens in front of him.
"None of you will speak of our existence tonight." His voice echoed throughout the cave. "Vow your silence, and you shall be granted safe passage to your homes. Is that understood?"
Albeit stunned at the sight of his face, they all gave nods and mumbles of agreement.
Ayaz turned to the person standing closest to him, a spear-wielding man with rich ocean-green eyes and tanned skin—hHe wore a black hood just like Ayaz and the others. "Idris, you and the others escort these people to their respective towns. Give them money if they need it. Make sure everyone is accounted for."
The man he called Idris nodded, then motioned to the people to make their way out to the cave's jagged mouth.
Ayaz was the last one to exit. Outside, his men helped some of the frail former captives up to their steeds. The rest who were strong enough to walk were given blankets and spare clothes to protect them from the cold.
One of the citizens he passed by clung to his arm, as if she needed support to stand and her life depended on it. The frail woman's bony fingers almost made Ayaz shudder, but he managed to give her a kind smile.
