Chapter 1: Ancient Apharoia
The sun took its place in the center of the sky. Without any clouds or anything obstructing its scorching light, the poor, haggard slaves were feeling as if they were burning alive as they were urged to move forward.
"Don't lag behind, you pests!"
A tanned man, who appeared to be a slave trader, ordered them with a cruel frown plastered across his face.
'Pathetic, I absolutely can't do anything with these few skinny cows.'
As a slave trader, his frown was not because he pitied them. Rather, it was out of annoyance. He realized that this batch was a rotten one, weak, haggard, and even the beauties were lost earlier.
Their party that departed from the city was 50 in total but was reduced to 15 people only due to the repetitive wolf attacks.
The slaves trembled upon hearing his words, but this fear did not allow them to stop moving.
Since the start of their 'trip' from their homeland, Apharoia, after being sold to those traders, they learned how to obey them.
Night after night, their bodies were trained forcibly to obey.
Through the constant sting of lashes against their backs, fear of disobedience was imprinted in their brains.
After learning that physically, the slaves subconsciously started to follow the traders without any hesitation.
In the small crowd of slaves, a certain woman let out a soft sigh after observing the situation. Her lips parted slightly as she murmured.
"How far can these people hold on?"
The situation of these slaves was not good. Physically or mentally. The woman looked down at her red skin and frowned, she herself was not that much better.
'I feel like countless ants are nibbling on my skin. It's not just itchy, but painful.'
Just as she was about to ponder on how to lessen her pain, she heard a new voice she had not heard before.
"Brother."
Someone called out to the tanned man. The person came on top of a camel and smiled while offering the tanned trader his hand.
"What are you doing, walking next to these slaves? You took a long while, brother. The king had called me to take a search party and come after you."
With a few glances around, the man easily added, "The desert is not merciful these days."
The tanned man smiled at the person before shaking his head, a shadow of regret seemed to wash over him as he grabbed his brother's hand, hopping onto the camel.
Thankfully, the camel was big enough for the both of them to sit on, which made the tanned man finally breathe a sigh of relief.
His feet were swollen and red, he was at his limit and did not want to walk on his own any longer.
"True to your words, Ox brother. This desert is not kind to us!"
He pointed at the slaves and the lack of camels to hold their belongings too, "Our party was attacked a few nights ago by a pack of wolves. Not only did I lose some trustworthy guides and two fellow traders, I even lost some of the precious slaves and was only left with these!"
His face scrunched up as he thought about that, rage bubbled in his chest. Why were the wolves so stupid to attack the strongest and leave the weak ones?
They even attacked the most beautiful ones, leaving him with a big loss.
"May the Sun curse those mindless beasts!"
Hearing his raving voice, the woman was amused.
'After doing such terrible deeds, how could these people believe in the sun? And to even pray for it?'
Her lips curved upwards into a sneer.
Ox waved his hand, and the slaves flopped to the ground. Relief was washing over them as they finally caught a break. The happiness of having a small break made them ignore how Their sweat mixed with the sand, making their bodies hotter with the mud.
The woman blankly stared at them as she adjusted her white robe. Her fellow slaves were smiling, no, they were grinning in ecstasy.
'I believe they think this small rest, that isn't even like one, is a luxury.'
Unfortunately, she could not do much about this situation. She barely had a better treatment than them. In addition, the ones who gave up would never be able to fight for their lives again.
All of a sudden, her head ached, forcing her to sit down and clutch her temples.
Meanwhile, Ox was patting his brother, Muran's, shoulder as he gave him a faint smile. His gaze scanned his features and stopped at Muran's eyes, the dark circles around them alongside the deep shadow of fatigue, told a lot.
"Do not worry, brother," he tried to assure, "Everything ought to be right with the Sun's blessing. For now, let us be grateful that you survived."
Muran nodded, that was indeed true. He was now in a relatively safe place if he thought carefully about it. Ox was not going to come here alone.
Which meant that everything was slowly going to be alright.
"You are right, brother. Where is your party? We may need to give those slaves some water, they are uselessly weak, and I am afraid they may die before we reach our destination."
Ox gazed at the slaves who fell to the ground earlier. He could see their swollen feet, their flushed skin, and how they were coughing dryly while panting like dogs.
Their bones almost poked out of their skin.
The white-robed woman had calmed down and observed them too. The scene was too pitiful for her, but she had already expected this much once she realized she was a slave.
'They must be in terrible pain, yet they are not protesting. I suppose that's the life of a poor slave who has no right to complain about anything.'
Although some started to cry, and their hands reached the sky, their eyes were emptyâ€" void of any hope.
What did they think as they gazed at the Sun that they worshiped?
'Darn the cursed Exezia, our holy Sun...'
They did not wish to live, and they did not wish to die. Their shallow gaze allowed the white-robed woman to see right through them.
Exezia was the name of the kingdom to which these two men who enslaved them belonged. The enemy's kingdom that took them all as nothing but slaves.
'Slaves are not even treated as living beings here,' the white-robed woman lightly noted in her head.
That idea was shared between all the slaves and the traders. Once you are a slave, you are no longer a living being. But an object.
Soon enough, those traders will throw them away once they are unable to keep up. Their skin had some nasty scars showing from underneath their shabby outfits as evidence- this was only a matter of time.
No matter how they groaned, wailed, and almost lost their voices from screaming in pain, their fate was sealed.
The pain of being whipped to keep moving despite being already in pain was something they would get used to.
One person, however, was completely different from the rest of the slaves. The person was none other than the white-robed who was now sitting on the hot, white sand and closing her eyes.
'I can feel them, but I am not the same as to fall into such despair.'
She did not want to allow herself to be the victim, she was not prey. Her lips parted as she softly whispered,
"One little sheep, two little sheep, am I really alone?"
The woman pulled her white robe down more, trying to cover herself from the Sun. Every sheep she counted, was considered as a chance to her.
"Three sheep, four sheep, oh how will they die?"
She sang and her voice grew louder as she wondered more.
"Five sheeps, six sheeps, but what if I refuse my end?"
Her eyes looked alive, unlike the rest. They were glimmering beneath the robe that was covering her from head to toe.
Ox paused after hearing that. He thought that the woman was weird, why was she the only person who was dressed properly? He could barely guess her gender, but her small figure and the soft voice he heard made him finally identify her as a woman.
A sly, coy smile danced on his lips as he thought of a possibility.
"Brother Muran, did you perhaps take a fancy to that slave? Are you saving it for yourself?"
It. That was the usual way for slave traders to treat their precious 'goods'.
The woman heard that sentence and almost scoffed. However, she held back. There was no reason for her to draw that much attention to herself yet.
"Jest not, brother!"
Muran responded strongly, eyes widening in horror as he looked around.
Ox did not understand what was happening, he scratched his head awkwardly and asked in a softer voice.
"I am sorry, brother. Did I offend you?'
"No, no! But you almost killed us both!"
Hearing that, not only was Ox apologetic, but he was also confused. He could not understand what was happening. Muran rarely cared about any slave, especially the slaves from Apharoia, their enemy.
But now he was saying both of them may be killed if he took a fancy to a slave?
Ox tried to swallow his questions as he stared at that slave. She was the only weird one in the group.
His confusion was written all over his face, forcing Muran to sigh before racking his brain to find a simple way to explain the situation briefly to him.
He honestly did not want to, but this stupid brother of his was going to annoy him to death until he knew.
That aside, they were also going to be in danger in case Ox said something in front of the people who would come to fetch them.
Muran reluctantly revealed the secret he was holding.
"Ox, listen, that slave... She is Apharoia's Princess."
"What the– Princess Isadora Khan?"
Ox gasped in shock, and his gaze turned to the white robe he was staring at a moment ago. A chill ran down his spine as he felt like fainting.
At that moment, his eyes met Isadora's from under the white robe.
Her skin had some burnt parts, which made her smile towards him terrifying. The simple feel of being smiled at like that caused him to sweat bullets. In addition, the next words she said forced him to swallow any comment he wanted to throw.
"Seven sheep, eight sheep, I wonder who will fall,... Under the curse of the Sun."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
ExQuartz_Roachina
ExQuartz_Roachina Hello! Thank you for reading my book, feel free to put it in your library if you liked it! I hope this type of historical fantasy intruige you and give you a pleasant read, comment and let me know what do you think about my book! (≧∇≦)b
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