He was awoken by sounds of bodies moving to leave their hammocks, along with immediate sounds of coughing and groaning from the weak and ill. Nyiko would have preferred to continue sleeping, but he had to be wise about his new position. No slave who didn't know their place would be left unpunished and his body had seen enough punishment for any man.
'Some wouldn't even say that I am one after what happened,'
He forced himself to open his eyes, greeting the pitch blackness of the bunker and the cold that came with it. Seriously though?! Why was it so chilly here! Sure the bunker was deep beneath the keep of the Fourth Frontier's lord where no sunlight would ever reach it, nor its warmth but that didn't explain why he felt that if he was able to see, he'd witness the white mist of winter accompanying his gentle breathing. His nose wrinkled at the intertwined scents of body odor and cheap candle wax. An unusual smell that quickly woke him up from any remaining drowsiness.
He shivered as his blistered feet touched the cold stone floor, sapping away his body heat like some heat vampire. Candles slowly began to flicker and flutter to life as their enslaved masters lit their wickers. One by one the dark was banished by the soft warm glow of fire and replaced with the moving and twisting shadows of slaves. Nyiko hugged himself to ward off the chill, his eyes following his fellow slave as they began to quickly move about. Removing the hammocks from their hooks and turning them into impromptu walls.
'What are they doin-'
His thoughts were interrupted by a unnatural grating screech that came from the door. Involuntarily, Nyiko shrunk into himself as did many others while those that didn't hurried with the disassembly of the hammocks or moving deeper into the bunker for some other reason Nyiko wasn't privy to.
The horrible noise was short, but it had shaken many of the occupants.
"Wake up, call you dirty mutts! You slaves best be ready before I open this door," The guard issued the threat with what seemed like displeasure to Nyiko.
Any slave that had not been doing something before promptly were either carrying a wooden basin and a wash cloth, moving to one side of the sheet wall or waiting to use the washing equipment. Actually, when he looked deeper into it, there was a clear pattern on who moved to which side of the sheet.
'Oh it's a gender partition, I guess even in a situation like this people will search to have some semblance of modesty'
The sound of something big hitting the stone floor next to him drew his attention to the pleasant face of Ma Akra. She smiled at him, one that made him a little better about the situation but unwillingly brought him back to the way he acted yesterday, and what caused that reaction. It made him feel guilt for the way he had acted, guilt he knew he had no business carrying but still.
He reciprocated her smile with one of his own, his wasn't as good but he still made the effort.
"Ma Akra…. H-how are you?" His poor attempt at making conversation was happily accepted by Ma Akra.
"I'm fine, child but unfortunately we don't have the time to have a proper conversation" She pointed towards the wash basin.
"You can use that lad, get cleaned quickly and be safe. Those wannabe children of war will take any chance to punish you"
She left him with a nod, leaving him to his own devices. Well of course he would clean himself, he just had to find somewhere a little more private to do so. He had to keep his own modesty after all. He made his way past the other male slaves to find somewhere more secluded, he did take glances at them in curiosity.
There was a large variety of male slaves that were kept by the Frontier lord, well at least in terms of where they may have come from. Skin colors ranging from fair to sable, some carrying old scars and others fresh ones. They mainly consisted of feeble old men and scrawny boys younger than Nyiko himself. They didn't pay him any mind, more worried about getting clean, Nyiko supposed. Finally he found a place to wash him and though there wasn't any soap around he was glad to at last rid himself of the dirt, sweat and grime from his cruel journey.
He stared at his reflection, well the sage scholar's reflection when he was done. The young scholar looked similar to him, with similar wide eyes and slightly plumb lips. The scholar slave seemed skinnier than his original, beer belly-having body but that may have been because of the long march staving him. His hair was fashioned into short box braids but that wasn't the most eye-catching thing about him. His digits probed the smooth, protruding flesh on his cheeks.
'So these how the sage scars look like,'
Two lines ran down each side of his cheeks that all began at his bottom eyelid, another line that began at the edge of his eyelid curved downwards towards his ear. The last line flowed like a waterfall from his bottom lip to his chin.
'Who would ever willingly impersonate a slave scholar when they had to subject themselves to such scarring'
"Well if you think about it, it's not like they would need to give them all the scars. Didn't Sodek say something about how each mark represented something."
That was… probably true. That thought was a distracting one so he shoved it away and got dressed in the worn out clothes he came here in. Soon, he was lined up with the others as that heavy door creaked open. Four pairs of guards stood ahead of them, herding the slaves like cattle. When it was his time to pass through the door a guard held him at bay, his armored thumb firmly pressed into his clavicle which brought a discomfort Nykio never dreamt he would experience.
"Stop there eunuch…" The guard put emphasis on the last word, barely making an attempt to stop his smirk. Nyiko felt his throat close, his head lowered in to hide his burning face and eyes. Something soft slammed into his chest, causing him to stumble back into the bunker. A folded robe of red and purple unfurled into his arms.
"Put that on" The other guard's narrow gaze bore solely onto Nyiko, no humor in his words. No, instead his partner shouldered that burden with his wide grin evident in the orange light of candles.
"R-right s-sirs. I'll get to it." Nyiko waited for them to give him some privacy, to at least turn around but they didn't. The two men just stood there, waiting, slowly growing impatient.
Shamefully, he shed his ragged clothes. He refused to see their reactions, to see their watchful gaze, their leering eyes. It would make sense for cool almond his skin to crawl, to feel the sickest he had ever been, to want to tear his flesh asunder in this exact moment. Yet he did what he was told. Now enrobed in a djellaba of red and purple, he dared not show any discontent. He hid his displeasure with a docile guise. He gave them his best approximation of a pretty smile. They gave each other a strange look.
"Um, whatever you're doing with your face. Stop that."
Nyiko pursed his lips.
'Why am I so bad at this?!'
Roughly, they escorted the scholar slave towards their lord's daughters and Nyiko's possible death sentence.
***
After climbing so many steps Nyiko thought the Fourth Frontier's young heir's door would be a grander sight than what he saw in front of Him. It was just a wooden door, possibly made… well whatever the most common wood was here. Not like he knew all that much about the types of trees, all the synthetic ones use codes to designate their differences.
The Impish guard tentatively knocked on her door, at least he had the mind to act seriously when it came to his lord's daughter. Muffled sounds of movement and pained groans emanated from the door before creaking open to reveal the figure of the 'princess' of the Fourth Frontier.
She was different from what Nyiko imagined her to be. Instead of being like the typical noble's daughter from some Webnovel, a petite blonde girl who dressed in frilly dresses and had fair skin. Instead, a young warrior stood at the doorway, her deep brunette hair kept hair and skin like honey. Her eyes glanced over the two guards, presumably familiar with them, and stopped to scan him over. He dared not make a bad first impression on his 'student' by meeting her eyes. She seemed satisfied by his meekness; she once again addressed the guards, specifically the stern guard.
"Hagh, I assume this is the scholar slave that you have brought me, and not some swamp plagued slave again"
"No my lady, I assure this one is cleared of any maladies"
"That includes any ailments his nether regions he may have had" The Impish guard chimed in with a wide grin on his face, amused at his own joke at the scholar slave's expense.
Hagh gave his compatriot deathly glare, his steely eyes warning the Impish Guard. The heiress just rolled her eyes.
"Both of you just stand guard out here, and Awakened Pike, please refrain from causing Hagh anymore stress as I do my lesson"
'Awakened! That guys an Awakened!'
Pike was not Nyiko would ever imagine an awakened to look or act like Taking a peek at him, Nyiko did realize he was a very handsome man but his demeanor did not exude anything similar to the legendary heroism of the Awakened in the Waking world.
The Awakened slightly stiffened from her words and hastily nodded though a grin still laid firmly on his lips. His lady's eyes moved back to Nyiko, expectantly. It was as if she was waiting for him to do something.
'Do I bow and introduce myself, is it appropriate for a slave to even speak in this scenario,'
"Well can't keep her waiting, can you?"
He decided to take the initiative, performing a deep bow to her. He gathered any semblance of confidence he had, as well decorum he never used and spoke to her in that position.
"I am your service, my lady"
She stared at him for a long moment, then without a word she turned around and walked back into her room. Nyiko straightened as he watched her leave the doorway, unsure if it was ok for him to follow her. A rough shove from, seemingly, Hagh gave him his answer. Almost tripping over his new robes he quickly bowed to the two guards and though he disliked the both of them, he didn't show it. At least he hoped he had enough control of his face and body to not show his disdain. They closed the door as he entered, making him jump a little.
'Um, why would they let a slave be alone with their mistress?'
Did they… think he was that weak that he couldn't possibly be a threat to her, or maybe she was so strong that he wouldn't be able to do anything anyway.
Suddenly the dread of the situation hit him like a freight train. He felt like he was so much safer where he stood, close to some kind of exit. Too anxious to move he peered over the only person besides himself in the room. The heiress did not pay any attention to his silent panic, she just sat cross-legged on her bed with her chin resting in her palm. It was like that for almost an entire minute, before she gave him a hard side eye.
"Well are you going to stand there the whole lesson? Aren't you people supposed to be the best teachers in the mortal realms?"
Her words shook him out of his doom spiral and promptly moved to stand in front of her.
"Well my lady my former position could be seen as that but there really is no measure of comparison for one's teaching ability. The best teacher is a good teacher that works best for the student. A Sage scholar is more of a… walking library or more apt metaphor would be walking institute of knowledge"
Like as if it was a natural thing for him to do he lectured her like he was someone who knew what they were talking about, with the calmness and confidence of someone who was made to talk in such a way. It was like a sage enlightening their pupil with a few deep and meaningful words before they began an oration.
'Wait a minute! Did I just dismiss my own teaching skills,'
Panicked he began to try to back on his statement as the heiress' eyes narrowed. Her raised hand stopped him in his tracks, not a warning of violence but a sign for him to seize his likely bad retraction.
"Just… start the lesson Eunuch. I'd rather not waste my time with the likes of you when I could be circulating my essence" she said, ostensibly fed up with him already.
"Well, how about we begin our lessons with Rhetoric"
"Rhetoric?" She questioned.
"For what reason would I need to learn the tongue of diplomacy? You do know we are at war with everyone else right?"
"Well my lady, diplomacy is not just for foreign affairs. One must also consider the domestic. To not be… well I can't think of the word but not to disrespect the empire, it's just unlikely that everyone in it has the same objective or that the empire's objective is their main objective"
The heiress looked displeased with his views but she didn't object so Nyiko took it as being allowed to continue on.
"Maybe there's a greedy lord of a city and he feels that his position isn't really appreciated. He feels like he has not gotten what he deserves, he wants more but has no method to earn more within the empire. A perfect tool for the enemy to use, sure a single city in a giant empire may seem inconsequential but in a war there are so many variables, so many discontent lords. Who knows what the enemy strategist can do with a few stolen assets."
"But that can only happen if there's no relationships between the vassals. Deep connections, whether through blood, through brotherhood or just to feel a part of something meaningful or more meaningful to that person. If that can be fostered, well it's hard to betray someone you know intermittently. If even if that 'person' the empire that represents all your loved ones "
Silence fell over the room. The two youths didn't make a move, one still like a statue and the other more of a crude effigy. A sigh finally broke the silence.
"You know, you use your hands a lot when you lecture, and your legs look like they desperately want to pace around. I'll allow you to do so from now on"
His face burned a little as he did his best to suppress a nervous smile.
"I-I-I understand my Lady…"
"Hectre" she interrupted
"I'm-I'm sorry?"
"My name is Hectre, you should've known that but I won't blame you. The guards for the slaves seem more and more incompetent every time I see them,"
"Understood, Lady Hectre" He bowed. He was getting really good at that.
All Hectre did in response was motion him to continue with her hand. Nyiko composed himself, placing a hand over his heart and closing his eyes.
'I guess my first day as a teacher won't end in and swift execution'
With his eyes closed, he did something he practised the night before. He willed [Apprentice Scholar] to work its magic, the attribute pulling all passages, meanings and details of one of the books he read; The Tongues of Diplomacy and Persuasion.
'Now let's get to actually teaching'
And like that he began to dive into the basics of persuasion. He hoped that he would actually speak well enough to be a good teacher. And quietly, somewhere deep and strange inside him, he hoped she would listen.