The Guardsmen And The Wall Of Shadows

Chapter One: A Server Sold

Here I was, flying high in the air, the wind combing my golden brown feathers fiercely, implaing clouds like a spear, watching mountains run under me like ants. You'd think being a Pollette would be sad, depressing, and frustrating with promise of nothing but pain and suffering. I mean, yeah, when we're born, we're taken away from our fathers and mothers and we are taken to a dirty hot market place where gamblers, merchants and rich businessmen and women (but mostly men) shout outrageous prices for you. That's the story of every Pollette. We were born to serve, protect and be dominated. Some Pollettes got lucky when rich caring merchants buy them, but others were extremely ill-lucked when a bad tempered woman with a whip for a voice began to glare at them or when a fat smelly man with a mole just under his chin began to check your teeth and muscles.

Before you get all confused and such, let me explain my being and race. Pollettes are humans born with the ability to turn to a specific animal. Well, the word 'Human' doesn't really fit our description but still it's a way of saying we came into this world just like the humans; naked, wet, blind and crying. Then at age 10 but for others like me, age 13, animals features and parts begin to pop out of some parts of our bodies. In some cases, claws would whip out of finger tips, a boy would roar just like a lion, a girl would grow whiskers and for those like me (again), feathers would begin to stretch out of the skin on our arms. All these werid occurrence would take place in just a minute. Sometimes seconds.

Our real names are Servers but somewhere along the line, old fools or drunkards began to call magic users Pollies and it was considered very rude. Humans who dared insult or harass magic users were hexed for weeks and during this time, their hate for sorcerers grew and boiled in their hearts. Since they couldn't abuse sorcerers to their heart content anymore, they turned to us, the closest things to magic users and began to use the word, only adding 'ette' which according to scholars meant, a smaller type or version of something. Believe it or not, the council of magic (S.M.I.T.E., it has no meaning, just smite!) didn't do anything about that. So the name stuck and soon even children began to use it.

Anyway, in my case, when I was placed on a dirty carpet under a hot sun at age 14,(quite a long time now since I'm 25 currently) I had watched as people passed by not giving me so much as a glance. I had grown quite a bit then. My brown hair was reaching past my shoulders, my muscles were beginning to reveal themselves, and my eyes were now permanently those of an eagle. I could've broken away from my seller and run away if I had wanted but to where? Some would say anywhere but here, but the truth was that nowhere was safe. Only the rich could afford and tame a Server and if anyone happened to see any one wandering about, they would do all they could to capture me. So I stayed and waited.

Hours later, a thin bony man with a long slivery beard approached and stared at me for what seemed to be the longest time. I stared back hoping he would get uncomfortable and leave. He did not. Out of nowhere, he grabbed my chin and pressed his thumbs into my cheeks, forcing my mouth open. It hurt a lot but I couldn't attack a human, it was a taboo.

"Quite clean, I see. Being taken care of." The man said slowly without letting go of my mouth. His beard was touching my teeth and his breath smelt of ale. Lots of ale. He finally let me go, straightened up and looked at my seller; a fat lazy woman under a canopy. "How much for it?"

The word 'it' made me feel so angry and a bit sad, honestly, but I kept my temper in check.

"Five Rumes. Three on each." The fat woman said, casually, fanning herself slowly with a dirty book cover.

I and the man's eyes bulged. Five Rumes?! And did she say Three on each? That was a lot of money. Did I cost that much? No, wrong question, why did I cost that much?

"But-but-but!" The man said, his veiny wrinkled hand on his sliver beard. "T-that's outrageous. A crime, is what it is!"

"Now look here," said the fat lady standing up, furiously. She dropped the book cover and pointed at me with her stubby fingers. "You see this one? His name is Hems. And you know what he can do?"

The man looked at me for a brief time before saying, "What? What could he possibly do that makes him so expensive?" His voice was hinted with annoyance now.

excitedly like she had been called upon to provide the latest gossip of the drama in our village. "He can see a bit into the future. Not like a year or month, no, he can see what's gonna happen the next minute and all that. I wanted to keep him really but my husband doesn't want him around. Said I had something for him. I mean, look at him! Why would I have a special spot for a Pollette, eh? Now," she

or when a robbery was about to take place. I had thought it was

gold in color and it always had a number from zero(0) to ten(10). If you take a single Rume and placed it on another coin and that Rume had the number 5 on it, it would

opened his mouth to say something, probably to talk of a discount, many rich merchants did that even though they have the money when at that moment, a man in a cloak stood before me. I stared at his black shiny shoes, his dark clothings, a red something

that true, little one?" His

stop moving and I felt myself nodding my head. The lips began

come with

he smiled, only wider

"How much for him?"

the handsome man over. After a while she said, "Seven Rumes,

he walked away, muttering how fat

Fives on each and gave it to the woman, who collected it in shaking hands. Her face had grown red

in front of the child." The man cautioned, tucking his purse back

the coins and

said and seized my hand but in a gently way. He

in the air. He wrote an F( it remained in the air), and then drew a T over the first alphabet. Once the two letters met, they produced a small blue flash and disappeared. All this happened in at least two seconds which

Rume coin on the floor. She picked it up, whispering under her breath, "There you are my baby." She packed

turned to me suddenly. I stepped back, a bit

to know Sir Walzon was

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