Aaaand another one. Lulz. I'm halfway through chapter 12. e_e
It was the first time she’d slept for several hours without being roused. And it gave Vula a headache. She awoke after five hours, rubbing her temples in the darkness, and lay there, head throbbing, listening to the muffled snores of who appeared to be her comrades. More arrived every day, and Vula wondered if they were all gathering for something. She could hardly see except for the very pale light filtering through the door of the hut, the source unknown.
Crickets chirped and faint chanting echoed outside. Now and then a tiny light would twinkle, a soft blue glow that was easy on the eyes. Vula stretched and felt her eyes grow heavy. Her body, used to hard labor, was aching to rise, and she wanted to exploring. There was a slight chill in the air but it wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to. At last, Vula’s eyes grew too heavy to keep open, her sore body curled on the soft straw bed, she snoozed.
It was not yet daylight when a whistle sounded through the gigantic cave. The slaves, most of which slept rather heavily, were loathe to rise. Vula was one of them, although she forced herelf to her feet and peered out the window. The smaller tunnels were emptying of some tribesmen, and her own began to spill out with slaves. And it was then that the world began to awaken.
Big Face stood within a circle of rocks where the paths in the cave met, and waited. Guards and fellow shamen surrounded him. In a semicircle, the rest of the tribespeople gathered, sitting with their legs folded.. Apparently, they had been awake long before she and her fellow slaves had, and this was apparent by the irritated stares in their direction. The slaves took great care to avoid them.
“Slaves with sewn lips will line up before me!” Shouted the guard that had originally led Vula to the hut. His voice, while it sounded like every other Mudokon's, seemed somewhat more gruff. It was a difficult thing to do, with the bubbly voice of her species.
Vula’s fingers gingerly felt the thick thread that tied her lips together, forcing her speech to seem awkward somehow. Heart pounding, she followed a handful of slaves towards the guard. When he produced a blade, her eyes widened and she attempted to back away, but a slave behind her shoved her forward.
She recognized several of her bunkmates, but even if they recognized her, their eyes were questioning as they studied her. Was it her indeterminable gender? Or was it that she’d done the unforgiveable and brought a slig and a slog into their safehaven? Some of the slaves didn't have stitched lips, and so were permitted to sit across from the natives, who ignored them.
The Mudokon at the head of the line kneeled and the tattooed guard held back his lips with two fingers, using his other hand to saw through the thread. The slave was wincing - she could see it from her position near the middle, but when the thread was cut the guard pulled away the thread and repeated on the other side. In only a few moments the thread that held his silence was gone and the slave was led away to where the rest of the already freed slaves sat - opposite the sitting villagers.
The line gradually grew shorter and to her distress, she saw that the knife was a kind of sewing knife that appeared to be made of bone. She knew bone well. It was serrated, and the Mudokon before her was whimpering as his stitches were removed. She stepped forward after he was done, kneeled, and before she prepared to squint her eyes, a flash of green caught her eye.
Drog and his pet slog were sitting near the freed slaves, three heavily armed Mudokons on either side and behind them. A pair of fingers and a thumb latched onto her lips and she braced herself as the knife sawed into the thread between them. The pain was lessened by his fingers pressing on her lip, but she felt it deep in her mouth and tensed. However, it was over in a few moments, and he sawed away the other one before he released her. Rubbing her sore mouth, she licked her lips and tried to fathom the sudden freedom she’d been given as she sat down near the other slaves.
Once all of the Mudokons were freed, Big Face spoke. Around him, the other shamen threw powder into the fire, sending it roaring into an explosion before it died down again. Some of the Mudokons, ignoring him, were playing with the new holes in their lips, causing the others to snicker and the natives to glower disgustedly in their direction.
“I have spoken with the gods. And they gave me a message. Our mother is dying.”
Everyone gasped, save for the slaves, who merely frowned in confusion and pity.
“But fear not. The next Mother is here among us!” Again, the guards threw the powder into the fire. Everyone stared at Vula, who jerked her head back and forth, confused.
“Vula... you must be the heir. I have forseen it.” Big Face approached Vula, who kept shaking her head.
“Wait a minute!’ Vula grunted. “I don’t even know what this is all about! What’s the mother!?”
Big Face fell silent. “Vula. Do you know the history of our people?” Vula shook her head, frowning. “I will tell you. But in a moment. Everyone - return to your duties.” Big Face gestured to Drog and Sooz. “You two - come here please.”
As everyone left, Big Face studied Vula. “The Mother - Sam, is responsible for giving us all life. But long ago, The Magog Cartel made a deal with her, offering her children a future. She took it, but was tricked, and now is forced to have children in order to sell them to Rupture Farms.” Vula frowned. “And now she lays there, on her deathbed, drugged, waiting for death.”
Vula frowned, eyeing Drog and the slog, who whimpered beside them.
“But I imagine you are hungry. Food will arrive later today, when the hunters return.” Big Face snapped his fingers. “Until then, I’m going to ask you to do something for me.”
“What?” Vula raised an eyebrow.
“We’re going to do a fertility test.”
Vula choked. “A WHAT!?!” She scooted away from Big Face. “Oh HELL no!”
The slog growled.
Big Face was silent for a moment. “It is necessary and will tell us when you are ovulating.” He folded his arms over his chest, although this was hidden by the large mask he wore.
Vula smacked herself. “Can we wait until... later?”
“No.” Big Face’s response was immediate and serious. “It is imperative that you do this, Vula. Otherwise our race will die.”
Vula coughed. “Say I become fertile. What happens to me? And why hasn’t it happened before? And and... WHO am I going to be ...breeding with?”
“Questions questions questions,” Big Face shook his head. “This way. If there were more females, I would have them do this, but there are very few on Mudos. So come. It is best to get this over with.” Big Face simply began walking towards his hut, and for the first time Vula noticed the various gourds and beads about it. It was as though he was trying to ward away evil. She bit her lip and went inside the hut. This time, the guards did not stop Drog or Sooz.
There was a table prepared for them, and Big Face patted it. Vula climbed up on it, while the others waited on the floor.
Big Face was facing the opposite way, preparing something in a vial. He reached over towards her wrist and with a swift move his fingers slid across it. Vula hissed, and a thin line of blood appeared.
“How’d you..”
“Shaman’s secret,” he replied simply, using another finger to wipe away the blood and pressed it against the opening of the vial. The drop slid down the side and into the clear liquid. Big Face watched it, while Vula examined her wrist, appalled when there was no cut.
“Hmmm...”
Vula turned her attention to Big Face. “What?”
“It’s supposed to turn yellow..”
She stared at the vial. The blood was merely swirling about inside the liquid. “What happens if it doesn’t?”
“I want to test one more thing. I apologize but I must do this,” said Big Face. He raised a single finger, in a lifting up motion. Vula stared at him, outraged, but complied and lifted up her loincloth. Big Face placed his hand above the lowest part of her abdomen, hovering it back and forth, never touching her. Vula tensed, feeling a pulse of force slither throughout her stomach and other organs she didn’t know or care about.
“Gyaah! What the hell are you-- AGGH!” She shivered, twitching.
Big Face ignored her and took his hand away.
“But I don’t understand..” he seemed to be speaking to someone else now.
Drog tilted his head. “What is it?”
Big Face snapped to attention. “Vula. You’re infertile.”
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