[attr="class","character-spring-1c"]“Black Ice”

[attr="class","character-spring-1d"]Dame Maxillar grew worried about her missing friend and business partner. It was unlike Lady Hildagarde to not arrive on time or to simply disappear without saying a word. She put up missing person fliers in Provo, explaining Lady Hildagarde had been on her way to the Hotan Sky Resort for the Wine festival. It had been well past a week since her return.

Authorities who looked on the path found a dead carriage driver with the chocobos released. The carriage smelled of refined perfume, but the goods were stolen and whoever the passenger was went missing. Though, there was a string of broken pearls found in a bush nearby.

There are signs of a scuffle and tracks of a second party that is now buried in the snow. Then, there are the odd rumors that the local wildlife around there are speaking. Though no one seems able to believe it.

—-

It was dark and cramped. Suffocating even.

Her pale knees were bent painfully to her chest. Her neck was stiff, aching, and chafed red from a magic-canceling collar. There was no way to shift to relieve her aching back. The room proffered to her was afforded by her now painfully thin build. The inability to tap into her magic made her feel empty and dizzy.

They called it “The Box”. It was a chest just big enough to hold a person. Just enough room between the wood to allow air in so one didn’t suffocate, but still feel like they would. A lock was placed on it, and only the curator - Don Korneovich - could open it when he saw the punishment was fulfilled. It was met to be a form of punishment without seriously injuring the ‘products’ - the trafficked outworlders. To make it more isolated, they set it to the back of the library.

In Sonora, it was hard for the victims to gain a voice. It made it easy to sell them to the people for the right amount of gil. The traffickers put fear into the victims - let them know what authorities thought of outworlders. That they would find no help there. The victims were kept scantily dressed so as to discourage running in the freezing cold. They had control over them in this large two story mansion.

A soft humming rose. Then another voice joined. Hilda listened gently to the song, feeling a little less alone in her confines.

She had given the victims hope upon arrival.

First, it started with taking unfair blame off them and upon herself. When she appeared from the punishment bruised and cut, but mentally unchanged with a smile on her lips, it gave the others strength. If someone was to not have dinner, Hilda snuck them her portion.

Then, she did bigger, more risky actions. She watched as someone tried to make a run for it through the vents. One of the guards noticed, but Hilda distracted them with falling book cases or physical resistance.

Hilda never once fell for their scare tactics. She refused to believe the authorities of this town would allow such abominable acts. She set up break operations, it was easy with her knowledge of herbs and what could make someone drowsy or ill long enough to help another escape. The others needed gentle encouragement to seek shelter first, then help second. She stayed behind to protect the others in hopes for help to be on the way.

The guards no longer let Hilda work in the kitchen after she was caught. They sought to break her will, because if they could then the others would be broken too.

The soft song continued as Hilda now endured her punishment for her defiance. One of the two victims, a female, ceased her singing to whisper to the box. “Do you hear us? We sing for you.”

Hilda felt her heart warm and a smile touched her lips. “You should go. Do not be caught.” She could not tell if they heard or not but the song ceased.

She heard angry mutters from the guards and hurried footfalls. Then, she heard the guards talking. “We should be having potential buyers coming today. Make sure they wash up and have them stand outside.”

“Wha’ bout tha’ one in the box?”

“Don Korenvich wants her to stay there.”

“Wha’ for? She could fetch a pre’y penny.”

“Not sure. I think he’s taken an interest in her. Why else would we be forced to put up with her, instead of sellin’.”

[attr="class","character-spring-1e"] @open