The Witch of Flowers
Chapter 2: Slavers

Iris barely ate the next several days. She couldn’t find the motivation to cook, let alone force food into her mouth when all she wanted was for it all to be a terrible dream. Iris walked outside to visit the grave. She spent most of the day beside it ever since her grandparents died. The leaves of the oak trees rustled in the wind. A chill ran across her skin. Iris frowned as she listened to the warning the forest’s plants gave her. A worn out wagon was passing through the southern edge of the Great Forest. Iris narrowed her eyes. Usually the wagons that came through the Great Forest for trading were maintained better. The sound of metal clanking against metal filled her with dread, especially when the trees carried the cries of the people bound in the metal.

Iris followed the sounds, ignoring the warnings of the forest urging her to flee. She crept forward as she grew close enough to physically hear the wagon and its unwilling occupants. Two sinister looking men whipped the horses to force them to continue forward as the other two men guarded the back of the wagon, occassionally snapping their whips at the captives that dared to attempt to escape. Iris grit her teeth. Such practices were supposed to be outlawed. Her grandparents had said so when teaching her of the nations that surrounded the Great Forest of Lux.

Iris knelt on the forest floor, letting her hands touch the soil as she released her power. Vines rippled across the ground as they grew, darting towards the two guarding the back of the slavers’ wagon. The two let out a startled noise as the vines wrapped around their lower bodies and pulled them to the ground. The moment the guards were down, Iris darted forward tugging at earth magic to tear at the shackles she saw on the three young and weak figures in the back of the wagon. She shoved healing magic at them, healing the worst of their wounds, including the whip marks that covered their bodies. Iris pulled them out of the wagon and used wind magic to cut through the reins that connected the horses to the carriage. By that point the criminal men had realized what was happening and started after her as she urged the escapees to follow her.

Iris ran for her childhood home. It was much easier to protect people there. Her grandparents’ protective magic was thicker there and she was more familiar with using her power there. The whisper of wind through the forest warned her that the men were gaining on the group. The moment she realized that she didn’t have enough time to get the people weakened by their captivity to safety, she realized what she would have to do to fight these criminals off and keep them safe. “Keep running until you reach the house in the woods. You’ll be safe there,” Iris ordered the three weakened captives.

“But,” one of them started to object.

Iris quickly shook her head, “Go. I’ll take care of things here.” Iris pushed them forward to urge them towards safety. Iris turned around and dug her feet into the forest’s soil. She urged her power to cover the whole of her home’s surrounding up until right where she was standing. Thick, thorny, green vines sprouted from the ground as the same strange sensation that crossed her skin when those flowers first started to grow in her hair returned. The vines began to weave together quickly forming a large wall between her and the house, between those criminals and her safe haven. The wall continued to grow in both thickness and height, slowly forming an incomplete dome that protected the area from intrusion.

It was only then that she noticed that her hair had once again changed. No longer was her hair dark brown. Instead it was the same color as the ivy vines she saw blanketing small parts of the forest and climbing up a few oak trees. It felt softer than her hair originally was, softer than even moss that grew on trees and rocks near the small rivers and creaks that cut through the forest. She didn’t get any time to ponder the change when the four pursuers caught up to her. Each of them held a weapon that resembled a spear or halberd, except the tip emenated a malicious magic that made Iris’s skin crawl.

Iris forced all the offensive magic she had learned from her grandmother to the surface. She managed to force one of the criminals to the ground, shattering the tool. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to react quick enough to stop the other criminals from advancing in that time. The moment the tip was pressed against her neck, her magic fizzled out and pain wrecked her body. Iris glanced back and was relieved to see the viney wall held up despite everything as yet another of the weapons was held against her throat from another direction. When the third touched her throat, she was no longer able to hold back her pained cry. The pain and the sudden draining of her magic stole all sensation from her limbs. She felt her body collapse, but the sensation continued. She felt her consciousness fade as she was dragged roughly back the way she had run from.

Iris faded in and out of conciousness as the wagon moved over stones and dirt. The shackles that bound her to the floor of wagon were so tight that they tore at her skin whenever she struggled. Iris was relieved to see that she was alone, that the ones she had rescued were still safe, but the relief was short lived as her attempt to force the shackles off with her magic was met with intense pain. It was the same pain that wrecked her body when those weapons were pressed against her neck. Was this metal somehow enchanted with the same malicious magic that had stolen her strength before? Her efforts didn’t go unnoticed either. The men she had managed to disarm before stood over her body and the whip in his hand cracked in the air before cutting through her flesh. Iris couldn’t even find her voice to cry out in her pain.

She couldn’t tell how many days she had been in the wagon before it came to a stop. The whip came down on her again, snapping in the air before slicing through her back. In the next moments, while she struggled to catch her breath from the pain, the chains were detached from the floor of the wagon and she was roughly dragged outside. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the change in lighting. She barely realized she was in the shade between two tall buildings in an alleyway filled with the stench of excrement and other waste. The weapons were once again pressed against her neck while the one dragging her hauled her through a wooden door. She was dragged down cold stairs, never getting a chance to get her feet beneath her. The scent grew worse the deeper below the ground she got, and she heard cries, screams, and sobs from countless people further down.

Iris’s eyes scanned the narrow stairwell, searching for an opening to escape, but found nothing before she reached the bottom. She barely got a chance to take in the sight of people crammed into cells with thick metal bars, chained to the wall to prevent them from moving much. Wounds covered much of the victims’ skin, and in some of the cells, malicious people like the ones dragging her about were whipping the captives. Iris grit her teeth. If it wasn’t for these chains and these strange weapons with their malicious magic, she would be able to free them all from the pain they were experiencing and destroy these slavers. Iris struggled against the chains, wondering if she could find some weakness even now. Unfortunately, that elicited the one dragging her about to turn around and swing a fist at her face. She felt her cheekbone crack under the strength behind the blow as her head swam.

In the next moment, she was dragged towards an unbearable heat. Iris heard fabric tear as her top was ripped off of her. She was forced to her knees and her arms were yanked to the ground. “This one appears to be some sort of mage. Be sure to account for that in the slave crest so the product can’t escape,” one of the men said sharply. Iris’s eyes focused on the despicable man before her as he pulled a poker from the furnace. At least that was what she thought it was before she saw the brand. No, her heart begged as she realized the full extent of the danger she faced. She wouldn’t be able to escape on her own once that symbol was branded into her flesh, especially if this was a true slave crest with the right magic to control her ability to fight back.

Iris didn’t even get a chance to react before the searing pain of the brand burned into her flesh. Her dry throat let out a rasping cry, not able to muster enough strength to actually vocalize her agony. In the next moment, she felt the magic bind her down, seal away most of her magic, controlled by whoever would give her orders in the future. Escape would be essentially impossible if she was the one to attempt it. Even with all the magic her grandparents had taught her, it was all worthless to her now. A passing memory slipped through her mind. Aerth, one of the Great Spirit Lords had said that if she was ever in trouble to find a way to touch the ground, to touch soil. She had recieved so many blessings from the Great Spirit Lords so they would be able to sense her location if she was in danger as long as she came into contact with any part of nature. These damp stone walls were too far removed from nature though. Iris would have to find another way.

“Prepare her for the auction. Given her appearance, she’ll probably score us a decent sum as rare goods,” one of the disgusting slavers smirked. Iris felt her consciousness fade as she was hauled back to her feet once more.

When Iris was aware of her surroundings again, she was in different clothes. They were minimalistic, not covering much of her body at all. A metal collar had joined the shackles around her wrists. A quick glance showed new shackles around her ankles as well. Iris tried to assess her surroundings. She was being moved in a covered metal cage that was tall enough for her to stand, but there was no real reason for her to do so. She heard excited chatter, but she couldn’t make out the words or source.

The movement stopped and she heard a man announce, “And for our next product, we have a rarity. Our people had some difficulty capturing this one.” The cloth covering the cage was ripped away,” Iris shielded her eyes from the onslaught of bright unnatural lights. It was magic-based, but it wasn’t light magic. Iris knew the difference. Perhaps it was some modified fire magic. After all, it produced the same malicious feel as the weapons and chains the slavers used. “As you can see, she is quite a rarity. They displayed what can only be described as a strong control over plantlife. No need to worry, though. The slave crest has been imbued with extra magic control to account for this. We have also included shackles, collars, and chains imbued with the same magic control. The product hasn’t been able to use their power since. The lucky buyer will have full control over the use of this magic, perhaps having some interesting and profitable uses.” The auctioneer sneered at her. “Stand,” his order took over her brain, invading every crevice like some sort of tentacled monster. Iris felt her body moving to follow the order against her will. “We’ll start the bidding at ten million gold.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Iris bit her tongue, wondering if she was wrong, if there was some way around the magic of the slave crest that would allow her to escape. Iris didn’t notice that the bidding was over until the cage was moved off of the stage and back towards the area where other slaves were being processed for the transfer of ownership. Iris was forced out of the cage. “Do not move,” the order forced her body to stiffen. She couldn’t move, not even when the collar and chains were removed, aparently a request by the one who had made the final bid.

“Where is my property?” a man with a disturbing voice said loudly as he entered the area.

“My apologies, my Lord. We were just preparing the product for the transfer. I was about to fetch clothing that would make this product fit to be in your presence,” one of the slavers said, greed evident in his voice.

“There is no need. My property will be kept in a place where nobody else will be able to enter. Bring my property to me immediately and transfer ownership properly. I would like to test this seemingly strong control over plantlife. If I’m not disappointed in the results, we might be able to pursue a mutually beneficial arrangement. If not, I’ll find another use for my property,” the man’s voice made her shiver, or least it would have if she had been unaffected by the slave crest forcing her to remain immobile.

“Follow,” the slaver said as he approached her. She was finally able to move again, but her body didn’t listen to her. When she was within arm’s reach of the slaver he grabbed her by the forearm roughly and dragged her towards the one who bought her. Iris’s mind was reeling as their was an exchange of words and magic passed from the slaver to the buyer. She felt the magic shift, but it didn’t weaken. Even with the shift, there was no weaknesses in the magic. She was once again reminded that she wouldn’t be able to escape on her own. She just had to hope that one of the orders she was given had a small opening for her to try to notify the Great Spirit Lords of her location and condition. There wasn’t much else she could do.

“Answer truthfully, can you grow castor bean plants?” the buyer ordered.

“Yes, but—,” the words were cut off in her throat when the next order came.

“Silence.” Her buyer looked excited, as did the slaver. “Grow a castor bean plant now.” Iris felt the power within her activate against her will to create and grow the deadly plant. “Very good,” the buyer said once the plant was fully grown and resting in her hands. “What do you say to a partnership? I become your supplier for plant-based poisons and you give me eighty-percent of the direct profits. I’m sure such a deal would be quite lucrative for your group as well.”

“We accept, my Lord. We look forward to this partnership. Shall we make an appointment to discuss this business deal?”

“Good, I will send a messenger by the end of the week to discuss the particulars,” the buyer turned their greedy eyes on her again, “Sleep.” Iris was unable to keep concious as the darkness filled her mind.

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