Weakness

[CzarRedwall]

"The slave stood idly by as we ate. She was made to wait on us, catering for our every need.

I had ignored the conversation taking place and kept my face down, staring into my plate. When approached, I quickly flinched, the anger in my eyes making it clear I was not to be bothered with. They took no offense, and ignored me as I ignored them.

The man sitting next to me had tipped over his cup, spilling its contents onto the ebony table. In seconds, the slave hurried to the man's side, using a napkin to clean the mess. Despite doing her duty she was rebuked, and for seemingly no reason at all suffered multiple beatings. Her legs could not hold herself up, and she fell onto all fours. A trail of blood followed her as she crawled back into her corner.

I did not feel sorry for her. In fact, I took pleasure in the sudden outburst of violence. It was refreshing, if I were to somehow describe the feeling of comfort I experienced. Such brutality was expected, encouraged, and celebrated. As the others returned to their conversation after the brief moratorium, I rose my head to see the slave girl resting against the wall, her face battered and bruised. It did not affect me at first. But this girl kept her eyes locked with mine, and for a moment did not look away. I rose to my feet, and quickly walked over towards her. She did not flinch, as the others so often did, but stood still. My dinner guests watched in anticipation, but were somewhat confused as I unexpectedly hesitated. I swung my fist into the slave's already broken face, and could not help the sudden burst of glee that rose within me as I did so. To my surprise, the slave seemed unaffected by this. But her eyes still stared into mine, and I could not understand what was happening.

My guests laughed and returned to their meals, ignoring the girl and I. My body shook as I struggled to understand this pain inside of me. No cuts or gashes afflicted me, and yet I bore an internal wound. Unable to comprehend this strange feeling, I was disgusted with myself, and tried my best to hide what I felt and solemnly returned to my seat. I turned my head a final time to look over at the girl, only to find her cold, piercing eyes still and lifeless. Her death granted me sudden relief, and I returned to enjoying my meal in utter silence."