Untie My Wings

About this chapter
This is a story I've been working on for about seven or eight years now. It takes place in an Antrho setting, meaning all of the characters are anthropomorphized animals.

This story is about Alleah, a bat who was kidnapped and sold as a slave at a young age. In this chapter, she is raised by a couple to be sold as a slave. Once sold, time passes, and Alleah grows a bit.

Chapter 1: Childhood Memories

But then again, perhaps I should return to the beginning. You're kind enough to listen, I owe it to you to tell the entire story. So I'll go back again. I mentioned that I was kidnaped, trained and bought... but this goes on for at least thirteen years and therefore can't possibly be told properly with just those terms.

Slavery is the only thing I've ever known, however, in my dreams I was frequently visited by images of the past that would wake me from the comforting, dreamful reverie of my sleep, jerk me back to my painful reality and leave me wishing I could cry as I swallowed my sorrow.

My earliest real memory, one that comes through to me clearly, is of the people who took care of me when I was very young. I remember them discussing how much money they should receive for me. I was perhaps five years old, and by then I'd already begun my training to prepare me for whomever I may be purchased by. Being so young at the time I remember little, but they seemed desperate to get rid of me before I was found and they were arrested. I never did learn their identities, or what sort of animalistic desperation could have driven them to conceal a child stolen from her parents for the sake of profit. I don't hate them, nor do I think I'd be completely misunderstanding if our paths crossed again and they had a chance to explain themselves... for the sake of not having another live my life, I feel better knowing that my torture could have been another's.

The two were not unkind, and at times I found myself thinking that perhaps they'd taken me in because they had no children of their own. I can still see their faces when I close my eyes... they being the closest to parents I have known I have thus found them hard to forget.

There was, of course, two of them; one male and one female, though I know not of their species I could make a guess that they were both feline. I remember the female was extremely thin, and very lean, with cream-colored and tangerine stripes coloring her hair, which was hacked much shorter than one would normally see on a female. Indeed, if it weren't for her distinctly feminine voice and body shape one might think she was a male.... she wasn't particularly masculine, but held somewhat of a boyish look to herself. I never discovered the reasoning behind this, in actuality, purposely fraudulent image she presented to the world, since I never thought to ask... a young child thinks nothing of such things.

The male was very tall, at least from my perspective, but even taller than I remember most other adults being around that time. His form was also thin, perhaps hinting of difficult times for both of them, though the fur covering his body was peculiarly... not long, but thick, giving the illusion of added mass. I also remember his coloration being somewhat strange... his fur was an overall smoky color, but looked silvery depending on how one looked. There were lighter stripes of grey in his fur that became visible in certain lights, almost like the way a panther's spots show through its dark coloration depending on the angle which you looked upon him.

Neither of them were harsh to me nor each other, at least according to what is left of the memories, though the male did seem to have a bit of a temper about him, and I can recall being mildly frightened of him when he got to be in one of his 'moods'. He was in such a mood the night he and the female discussed selling me, and I can recall cowering beneath a table as they talked.

Both seemed... upset, at the prospect of selling me. Of course, that's what I'd been taken for, reminded the male several times, though it was evident that he was no happier at the idea than the female, whose normally tough and stubborn air had melted to one of sorrowful regret. I didn't want to leave them either, though I knew it was inevitable, there was talk of being unable to support me or even each other. They couldn't afford to feed another mouth, and desperately needed the money that I would fetch. As I recall this I also feel pity for them.

The female seemed especially concerned for my well-being and brought up the issue often in their debate, the male doing his best to force her to distance herself from me emotionally. I faintly, very faintly, recall him saying that if she doubted where I was going she would never let me go, and that was what was most important.

And so, once again, I was removed from the comfort of my home, as small and broken as it was already. During my brief stay there, they-- the female especially-- treated me as their own child. Even though I began my training to obey commands there, I still felt like they were my family, and I didn't want to leave any more than they wanted me to. In an odd way, I felt like I loved them, and that they loved me... at least, I'd like to hope they did, even though in my mind I realize that you do not sell someone that you truly care for.

As I expected and braced myself for, my pseudo-parents and I parted ways. I was only five, or six... as I've said no one really knows for sure. They dropped me off at a 'trader'... something like a slave auctioneer. He was almost as tall as my male captor, but stockier, and his size struck a fearful chord in me... after all, many children are frightened of those larger than they are. Back then, in my limited knowledge of species I wasn't sure of his, but now that I'm looking back from maturity I can see that he was a tiger, or some type of striped cat.

As they brought me to him, they were obviously trying to give him the impression that they weren't, in fact, attached to me too much. Now that I am older and have a better understanding of things, I sometimes wonder if they grew attached to other children they may have stolen in the past or in years to come as well. I wonder if one day they were ever able to afford to keep a child they were raising.

The auctioneer, apparently either acting under the request of my 'parents' or sensing my growing disenchantment, gently lifted me from the ground as they departed, talking to me as he escorted me to my new home.

"You'll be fine," he told me as he carried me into a large structure, similar to a barn but fairly different. "Your home will be here, until someone comes to get you."

His voice held strange undertones, that made it difficult for me to tell if he was lying or not. I looked back over his shoulder at the departing feline couple I'd lived with previously, and found myself wishing I could jump from the tiger's arms and run after them. Perhaps that's why he carried me - he didn't want me to flee. I feared his size... he was a great deal larger than I, and I wasn't sure if he would think twice about harming me or worse. I also found myself unable to yell after them, my vocal cords frozen in despair and fear, and thus simply watched after them mournfully, wishing I could get them back.

The auctioneer, whose name I found to be Jeno, carried me to something very similar to a stall in a stable. They weren't overly unsanitary or uncomfortable, but they'd definitely require some getting used to. My previous accommodation were fare from glamourous, but this awful place made me feel like livestock. Which, I suppose technically, now I was.

I was very small, as I have mentioned, and couldn't see over the tops of the walls surrounding me, though I could see Jeno on the outside before he left while I was looking up.

For some reason I was still unable to cry, even though I wanted to. Even with the initial kindness Jeno had treated me with, I was frightened, especially as the slave in the next 'stall' peered over his low walls down at me. He was older, and tall enough to look over the walls. He was one of the many that I never learned the names of, and one of the few I don't remember much of his appearance. He seemed to be a mostly off-white color, but I'm not sure of his species... he seemed to hold both feline and vulpine characteristics.

For a long few moments, he appeared to be sizing me up.

"Yer' not anythin' special." His voice was accented strangely, at least stranger than I'd usually heard. I looked up at him, but didn't answer, as he looked down at me from the next stall with a slight sneer. "Yu'll end up just like the rest of us."

I still didn't reply, just listened to what he had to say. I wasn't in any position to disagree, he knew what was happening better than I did. I could hope he was lying, just trying to scare me, but I was unable to convince myself that he wasn't speaking the truth. We looked at each other in silence for a bit longer, then the boy spoke again.

"How old are ya now?" This time my silence seemed to frustrate him, as he waited for a response and got none. "Well... yer a young'un... and yer gonna be here for a long, long time."

Those words drove me to turn around and do my best to ignore him from thereafter, not wanting to hear anymore. He kept speaking to me, however. "Unless of course, yer a fortunate one that dies."

With that he also turned back into his stall, paying me no more attention as I tried to block everything he'd said to me. I was obviously not successful, as I remember his exact words to this day. I later learned that he'd killed himself, slitting both of his wrists on the edge of a sharp hinge he'd pried from the gate to his stall.

Time seemed to pass quickly during my stay there, the monotonous routine I was put into making me lose most of my sense of time anyway. I was trained more... I talked to few, and was punished often for disobedience. Slaves came and went, as I grew within the cold walls of the structure. I watched children come and grow with me, while they attempted to find the light side of their predicament together I suffered alone in silence, wishing I could escape... but since I've become older, stronger, they'd taken to chaining me to the wall as they did with all the others.

Then one day, I remember it well... a couple similar to the one that had abandoned me with Jeno brought in a small child with them. The child obviously wasn't theirs, and I watched with a mild bitterness in my reminiscence as I watched them depart, leaving the child with Jeno as so many others had done. But this time I saw something else... the receipt of payment for the child. There's nothing like seeing the life of another be priced to a handful of gold coins to darken your outlook.

I watched Jeno walk the child, who was about four or five years old, while talking to him in the same kind voice that I'd heard from him years ago, to the stall next to mine. I stood up as I watched him walk away, and peered over the partition that separated me from the new arrival.

The child, whose race I took to be a mouse, was huddled in the back corner of his stall, staring fearfully out towards the gate. You're not anything special. The boy's voice rang out in my mind, and I found myself despising him for telling me this. He certainly hadn't made things any easier on me, to a child just that sentence can be traumatizing.

I sighed lightly as I watched the child begin to weep softly, and whispered gently to bring his attention to me.

"Hey..."

The mouse wiped the back of his hand across his eyes, and looked up at me, but didn't answer. I managed a half-smile at him as he sniffled, still crying but attempting to stop.

"Hello."

He continued to look up at me in an astonished silence, then finally answered, his voice quiet and squeaky. "He-hello." His response elicited a genuine smile from me, something I couldn't remember doing it'd been so long.

"Do you have a name?" The boy didn't answer for a moment, and I begun to wonder if he had ever been given a name at all. But after a minute or so he spoke to me again, apparently beginning to open up to me slightly.

"Kobi." He replied thinly, rubbing at his eyes with his hand, a lone teardrop escaping his eye and flowing down his face, traveling down a whisker and spattering on the floor. I felt sorry for him, I knew what was in store for the child and didn't want it to happen to him any more than I wanted it to happen to me. Now that I was older, and saw how it happened from an outside point of view and an inside, it seemed all the worse.

I glanced down the row of stalls filled with slaves, then turned to look down at the mouse again. I exhaled slowly, watching the child curl up on the floor, and I whispered to him again in an attempt to comfort him."Don't worry Kobi. I'll be here to help you for as long as I can."