This is the tenth dawn since our captivity, and I feel no warmth. No hope. I sit up in the back of this cave, aching, hungry, and distraught that I didn't die during the night. My fellow captives are still asleep, curled up in their rags, huddled together for warmth against the chill. In here there is some shelter against it, but not enough to give us a reason for living... only enough to keep death at bay for a little while longer.
Aside from the mark of a new day, the light brings fear with it. Dread. We, all twelve of us, were thirteen yesterday, and fourteen the day before that. Every morning one of us has been taken away, never to return. We used to guess what happened to them, back in those first days, but now? Now we hope it's a quick death. Freedom isn't fated for us anymore, not here.
Sand and dust cling to my tight, chapped skin, every movement sending a cascade of it back to the bare earth floor. My armor is long gone, though I, like all the others here, have been left with our tunics, robes, and sandals. Was it out of kindness? Without their shelter against the chill, I'm not sure I would have made it this long. Now I'm beginning to wonder if I shouldn't just strip out of it all and let the night's cold take me away from here. I can't stand another morning. I can't bear another dawn.
Sweet song birds lilt and trickle music from the olive trees outside the cave, and a gentle wind blows up the hillside, carrying with it the scent of grasses and trees and the ocean further on. Inside the cave the air slowly warms, the breeze refreshing the air and carrying out the scent of our unwashed, sick bodies. Sunlight slides in from the mouth of the cave towards the back, towards our cage of salt. There are no bars, there is no confinement, only a line of salt poured onto the sand in a large half-circle against the back wall of the cave. I don't know what magics were used, but I can't cross it. None of us can. We've tried so many times, but each time we near the line of salt, every time we dare to escape we are struck by a thunderous agony in our heads. It's like our skulls threaten to split open, our pulse leaps into our ears, and we can hardly think. When I dared to cross the salt I nearly made it, I nearly stepped over it, determined to let myself be free or succumb to death... but I couldn't. The only rational thought left among the boil of pain was to retreat, and only then did my torment cease.
That was ten days ago. I dared to escape ten days ago, and only that one time. Each of us tried and each of us failed, wailing in pain, screaming, weeping, pushing ourselves, pushing the others towards the barrier. In our shame we all retreated, huddling against the back wall defeated, all of us seasoned warriors pulled from the battlefield. We were in the same unit. We were brothers in arms. Now? Now we are shadows of ourselves, craven and weak and skittish. We know that we won't see our families again. We know that we're dead men. But we must wait for the morning to see who will be taken next. It's a thing I have hated each day but secretly long for. I just want to see something else. I want to be free of this cage. I want to die. Anything. Anything other than this.
My pulse grows rapid as I hear the telltale sound of our captor's approach, the soft tread of bare feet up the dirt path. Such a sound is easy to miss, but now I can focus on nothing else, and I can see that the other captives are all awake and watching with wide eyes, still and silent. The steps come closer, and with a lift of the breeze also comes the gentle flap of linen robes and the scent of incense. Tears slide down my dusty cheeks and I begin to shake, pulling my robe about me tightly, trying to hide in it. Those steps grow closer, and soon I can see our captor's shadow, fuzzy and indistinct from the wan morning light at first, but sharpening as the light grows brighter in the sky. That shadow slowly enters the cave, stretching before it, preceding it. I shiver and wipe my eyes, then flinch as one of the men towards the side vomits in fear. Another begins to weep, and yet another rocks back and forth, clutching his head and muttering a prayer to the gods.
But I watch, I watch as the shadow pushes further into the cave towards us, towards the line of salt and obscenely over it, over us, climbing up the stone wall behind us until we're all in its shade. Captive in mind and body. Defeated. Broken.
Domesticated.
At last the silhouette of our captor appears at the mouth of the cave, and as ever I'm terrified. I could describe the form as short and slight, like a teen boy or young woman. Wavy hair cascades from the figure's head and they stand with grace, balance, and patience, beautiful and human... until they open their eyes to look inside the cave. All I can see are reflective points of light, like the shine of a dog's eye far off into the night. There is nothing human about it, nothing comforting, nothing compassionate. Every once and a while those eyes close and reopen, their gaze flicking across each of our faces, assessing us. Choosing which one to select.
And then those eyes close. They have chosen.
My compatriots weep and plead with our captor, crawling, kneeling, begging emphatically to be spared. Some beat the ground with their fists, some pull at their hair. At this point I'm not sure what they're begging for, and I almost think they don't know either. All I can do is sit back against the wall, wrapped in my robes, silent. I have nothing left to say, no fight left in me. I just want this to be over.
You. I choose you.
The voice in my head is beautiful and soft and comforting, like a young girl soothing a frightened pet.
Don't be afraid. You may step over the line now.
I look over at the others, but they haven't changed. They're all still wailing and terrified. Am I the only one hearing this? When I focus back on our captor, I see that their eyes are open and looking at me, those reflective silver points unwavering and patient. Very slowly I get to my feet, wincing as the aches in my muscles pull taut and the rashes on my skin scrape against my filthy clothing.
Yes, that's it. Come to me.
Tears well in my eyes and I look down at the line of salt in the sand. The pain on that first day was so intense that I'm afraid of it, just the sight of it coming closer, that I hesitate at first. Would it be so bad to stay here? But I look again at my captor and know that I can't disobey. Swallowing down a dry throat, I take slow steps towards the barrier, my heart pounding. The others have grown silent, seeing that I've been chosen, and they all look down, relieved that it wasn't them, and ashamed of their relief.
The barrier is three steps away now. Two steps away, and I still don't feel any pain. One step away. My whole body's shaking. I don't dare step over the line. I shouldn't. I can't.
Come to me.
Tears flow down my cheeks and clutch my robe more tightly, weeping quietly as I slowly and deliberately step over the line of salt. I expect to burst into flame, to melt, to burn down in hellish pain, but none of that happens. I am, within moments, standing outside of the salt, shaking but alive and free of pain. The others still don't look at me, and I ignore them now, full of wonder now at the magic of it. I don't feel the aches in my body anymore. I don't feel the pulled muscles or the sores on my skin. I don't feel hungry or thirsty anymore.
When I look up again, I see my captor incline their head. Behind them, behind the silhouette of their body emerge two large, feathered wings. I had never witnessed this before, this is new. When the other captives before me were taken, my head had always been bowed in terror. Why hadn't I thought to witness this?
Come to me.
My legs move on their own, slowly, reverently as I approach this creature, fascinated and unafraid. I'm in awe of it, the splendor of it. Surely the gods sent this being here to free me. Surely I was wrong to be frightened.
At last I stand before it, and it extends its hand out towards me. Such a delicate body, so small, why had we been so scared? Without hesitation I gently lay my hand upon its own, and I smile as it brings my hand up to its lips to kiss my palm. I feel something briefly, a prick, a pinch, but then it's gone, and nothing but warmth remains. That blessed, blissful heat flows down my arm and into my body, and I'm led away into the light, feeling nothing but radiance.
And in the sunshine, away from the mouth of the cave and beneath the blue and perfect sky, within sight of the ocean and the green sprawling purity of the forest further down the hill, I smile happily and in silence, sinking down to sit upon the stones. It doesn't matter that every so often my arm is jerked by the perfect being beside me. It hardly matters as my fingers disappear, then my hand. The feel of its teeth gnawing closer to my elbow is without pain, only bliss. And I grow tired. There is so much shining red all about me, the scent of copper, brightness, wetness, it's all so warm. I think I'll sleep now.
I think I'll sleep now.
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