[Beruthiel]

Santiara watched as Ekatran drew out each name. The silence in the hall was almost unbearable but she waited silently like everyone else. All the other slaves around her were praying silently, that they wouldn't be chosen, yet secretly Santiara was doing the opposite.

Ekatran drew out another name, he read the paper silently to himself. Then ever so slowly he read out the number, "13952, Section 3, Santiara"

She got up slowly, realising the full impact of what was going to happen. The other slaves watched her with pity, but she could see in their eyes, they were glad it was her and not themselves. One guard grabbed her arm and pulled her to the platform, it wasn't as if Santiara was going to run. She walked faster to keep up with the guard and before she knew it she was on the platform next to the other slaves.

She repeated her speech to him, "I am the fifth chosen, O lord, and I shall be quarry for your hunt" She spoke so quietly that only the slave next to her could hear.

The guard behind her kicked her in the leg, she looked up with anger at Ekatran. She spoke louder, her voice filled with bitterness, "I am the fifth chosen, O Lord and I shall be quarry for your hunt"

She said the words O Lord with extreme sarcism and was amazed that he didn't order the guard to beat her. He stared straight into her eyes with utter disgust and went back to the choosing.

[ April 04, 2003: Message edited by: Beruthiel ]