Part 2

A young teen finds herself with difficult decisions to make when thrust into a new chapter within the slave trade.

Oh, was he a sight to behold. The massive, eight-foot-tall Tiger had a hide that rippled with muscles, his black and orange pelt brilliantly groomed and shining in the sun. Though he was of the same species as her master, her master was old, and his days were numbered. The creature before them was merely approaching middle age, with some racing stripes of silver extending from his temples into the thick mane of black and orange hair that framed his face.

Her new master smiled down at her, revealing perfectly maintained and sharply filed teeth, the canines as long and deadly as knives. He gave a soft chuffle that was meant to offer friendliness and trust, but that did very little to lesson her dramatic flinching reaction as he raised his hand to her cheek. Whenever someone wished to come in contact with her, it was never to be gentle. Her face twisted in riddled pleasant surprise as the coarse pads of his digits caressed the fur around her head and neck with the affection a mother might use to display love to her cub. “A golden Tigress.” He breathed in admiration. “How beautiful, how rare... What is your name, young one?”

She was so transfixed by the tenderness of the way he touched her that the words never reached her ears, which were relaxed in pleasure. The bark of her old master broke the spell. “What are you, child, deaf? Speak when spoken to! Answer his question!”

“I am called Surani.” The sound of her own voice was laughable. It was quiet, and feminine, and from the way it came from her throat, one could instantly suspect that it had been seldom used.

Her new master smiled again. “Surani. A beautiful name for a beautiful creature.” His silky voice carried effortlessly and diplomatically. “I have a new home for you. I believe you'll like it. Acres upon acres of manicured land, just for you to explore. A crisp and refreshing oasis awaits.” Few of the words made sense to her ignorant mind, but from the way his voice wistfully recalled his home, it sounded lovely indeed.

“Where are my units?” Her previous master growled lowly. Something Surani might grow to miss about the old Tiger was the way he directly stated what he wanted. There was no guesswork with him. Only with age does one seem to realize that games and hints are entirely unnecessary and have a tendency to waste valuable time.

“Right here, old man.” The new master conjured several sacks from undetectable folds in his vast and rich attire. He handed them to the elder with another charming smile as he received the chain still clasped around Surani's neck. “Thank you for this most prized possession.”

The words fell on deaf ears. Her old master was already walking away, greedily peering inside of the unceremonious brown sacks.

A small click echoed in her ears, and suddenly she felt weightless. She might just waft away. What caused this new found freedom? Her gaze turned to her new master as he wrapped her chain around his own forearm, and for the second time in as many minutes, she was pleasantly surprised, for the chain was no longer around her neck. She was completely free.

She fleetingly gazed around, wondering if she should run. After several long moments, however, inevitable realization dawned on her features. Her new master seemed to want to treat her well. She can't say the same for any stranger she may run into, and it didn't take a genius to know that this area was plagued with ill-intending people.

Heat flushed to her cheeks when she realized that her new master was studying her. Surani leaned her head back a little to gaze up at his face, and was surprised at the orange, amber color of his eyes. The only other eyes she had seen that rivaled this brightness were her own, and her eyes were green, not orange.

“Have you made your decision yet?”

“Hm?” Surani grunted, unsure of what decision he was referring to, her thoughts having already floated on to other things.

“Are you going to run, or try your chances with me?” She was expecting such a question to be framed in a manner of a challenge or of mock disappointment, but instead he phrased it in such a way as to imply a simple curiosity.

“What is the name of my new master?” She inquired, purposefully avoiding the question she didn't know the answer to.

“New master? Hardly. I am no one's master. You may call me Habib.”

A smile turned the corner of her lips upwards even as the fear she had grown so accustomed to plagued her thoughts and crept into her eyes. “Habib? Lover? Is that a joke?” She winced and instantly regretted the question, for the stern way he gazed at her didn't bode well in the least bit.

But then he gave a wink, and began to walk away as he spoke. She hurriedly followed to keep up. “Yes, it is a joke. Though that is what you may call me. I will not have any of this “master” business, Surani.” A sad expression crossed his face like the shadow of a cloud in front of the sun. “Am I correct in my guess that that old geezer didn't treat you well? Dare I even go as far as to assume that he abused you?”

His purposeful gait was uncomfortable to match. She had to half-jog to keep up, and she faltered briefly in her step as memory after memory of her old master's treatment of her and his other slaves weighed her down. The pair paused on the outskirts of the marketplace, he out of respect and she out of overwhelming emotion. “Yes... He abused me.” She could've said more, she could've gone into horrific detail, but instead Surani counted her blessings. “I am just so grateful that I aged out of his system. He only finds children attractive. This is very fortunate, because if I had been any older, I would be with cubs... I am a teenager now... He has discarded me. I am safe from him.” She gazed up at Habib once more. The question was very plainly written on her face. But am I safe from you?

Author's Note

This is a story set during the industrial revolution, in a parallel third world. Magic exists along with science, and sentient animals walk among man. I feel confident about this part, Act I, and I have a solid foundation for Act III, but I'm struggling with the bridge between the two: Act II. I would love some constructive criticism and some recommendations of how to continue the story and overcome writer's block.