The Mayaware's reign has to end.
In a world of demonic beings with a hunger for human flesh, and thirst for blood, Hesi Renen knows it well. When her siblings are taken to the harvesting farms, she must do everything she can to get them out, even if...
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The gossamer felt itchy against Hesi's skin. Her bare feet was smooth against the polished stone floor after having scrubbed off the dirt and sand off. She adjusted the cuffs of gold around her arms and patted her hair flat. It's been hell to brush away the tangles and the mats brought about by months, perhaps even years, of not tasting the comb. Good thing she woke up earlier than the women, finished bathing before the sky lightened to a placid lavender, and got back before the entire fortress came alive.
She had no idea what the male attendant from yesterday told the women or if he did spoil what's bound to happen today, so she just had to wing it today. The door to the large room crept closer. Her eyes swept across the potted plants of differing exoticity, each one weirder than the last. These must be imported from the farmers in Ser-Djare considering they're the plant-inclined people. What was Ser-Tehra, her home, good at? No idea. It had been so long since she had stepped foot in there, but it looked like she would soon.
Because Berheqt stood over it.
Her fingers wrapped around the cold steel of the door's handles and swung it inside. The resulting whine against hinges brought a wave of heads snapping up and eyes landing on her.
"Who are you?" a woman with the bright red hair asked, eyebrows drawing together into a frown. "We haven't seen you before."
Hesi shrugged as the other women began muttering their agreement. She studied the faces of her companions, the fortunate souls who were survivors like her. One had an abundance of empty piercings on her face, the jewelry have long been yanked off. Another had ink splattered across her skin, flowing in random lines and swirls from the arm peeking through the slits of her gossamer sleeves and disappearing up to the back of her neck. So, it's not that type of perfection the Mayaware were after.
But...what were they saw in this women to pick them from the pile?
"I came from a hidden batch," she trudged into the center of the room, not bothering to shy away from their gazes. The other women scooted apart when she dropped to a cross-legged position in their midst. "I just arrived this morning."
"Where are you from?" the woman with a lot of piercings asked. Her own gossamer dress was void of sleeves and was instead wrapped around her body so tightly Hesi thought they're aiming to flush air out of her. "We have exchanged basic information about ourselves before the selection but we don't know anything about you. Where are the others from your batch?"
Hesi's eyes narrowed. "All gone," she breezed, the lie flitting off her lips as easy as spitting poison water. "And I'm from Agkhre. It's...gone too."
She made sure to add a tinge of melancholy in her voice and look down to further sell the story. It's true she had spent a while in Agkhre and that it's gone. It's true she's from a secret batch and came in with nothing but the clothes in her back and the knife hidden in the folds of her dress. Half-truth always made the lies easier.
