Artificial Sugar
Plus Ultra
Atropa had been a slave since she was small. Her mother died when she was eight, and her father held no love for her, so he'd sold her for a few gold coins to supply another night of drinking.
The first few years weren't so bad, she'd been too small to do much, so she'd been mostly confined to a room, where she was allowed to read and sleep in peace.
When she turned eleven, she was put to work. At first it was normal things, washing clothes, making dinner for her master, those types of things.
But when she became a woman, at fifteen, her master began to use her powers as a mage to hunt and kill those who had wronged him.
He'd tried to bed her once or twice, but the older women had protected her, so he'd decided she wasn't worth it, and continued to use the older women as bed slaves.
After years of working for her master, Atropa had finally gotten enough trust built up to acompany him on his many journeys here and there.
Today was the day she'd decided to escape.
Her master had brought her to Kirkwall to conduct some business he'd arranged earlier in the month.
She was supposed to stand with him and threaten the man he'd come to speak with if he declined his payment.
She had other plans.
When her master had walked ahead of her a bit, and the guards had followed, Atropa turned quietly and ran, accidentally bumping into a crate and knocking it over, letting the guards hear her and come for her.
Atropa ran as hard as she could, and when she saw an open window, she dived in, not caring what was inside.
On her landing, she broke a pot, the sound echoing loudly in the empty room.
It was quiet and dark inside, and Atropa sat crouched, listening for anything at all, heart pounding loudly in her chest.
The first few years weren't so bad, she'd been too small to do much, so she'd been mostly confined to a room, where she was allowed to read and sleep in peace.
When she turned eleven, she was put to work. At first it was normal things, washing clothes, making dinner for her master, those types of things.
But when she became a woman, at fifteen, her master began to use her powers as a mage to hunt and kill those who had wronged him.
He'd tried to bed her once or twice, but the older women had protected her, so he'd decided she wasn't worth it, and continued to use the older women as bed slaves.
After years of working for her master, Atropa had finally gotten enough trust built up to acompany him on his many journeys here and there.
Today was the day she'd decided to escape.
Her master had brought her to Kirkwall to conduct some business he'd arranged earlier in the month.
She was supposed to stand with him and threaten the man he'd come to speak with if he declined his payment.
She had other plans.
When her master had walked ahead of her a bit, and the guards had followed, Atropa turned quietly and ran, accidentally bumping into a crate and knocking it over, letting the guards hear her and come for her.
Atropa ran as hard as she could, and when she saw an open window, she dived in, not caring what was inside.
On her landing, she broke a pot, the sound echoing loudly in the empty room.
It was quiet and dark inside, and Atropa sat crouched, listening for anything at all, heart pounding loudly in her chest.
