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The Chained Geomancer

I was on the ground, confused as to how I got there. Just before, I had heard the telltale beeping of the pedestrian crosswalk notice. The shift was instantaneous, my whole world changing in a blink of an eye. One moment I was crossing the street, ready for my first day of college classes, my whole life ahead of me. Then the next moment I was on a hard, cold, damp floor. On the one hand, I was certain that I had not lost consciousness, and that this change must've been instantaneous. On the other hand, part of me felt like I had been lying there, on the damp ground, forever. Or at least my body had been, not so much my mind.

The first thing I felt that made me realize I was somewhere else was how smooth the floor was, unlike the concrete ground I had been walking on moments before. In fact, it felt more like a marble floor than a road and last I checked there weren't a whole lot of cities in the twenty-first century that used that for streets. My eyes had blurred for a moment, but I could see clearly now. The floor had shifting colors, shades of white from pearl to something almost as dark as a light gray.

Groggily, I moved my head. I felt drunk, not that I would know, never being much of a drinker, but somehow I knew that the sensation was similar. My vision was blurry and the world moved very slowly. The surface of my skin felt numb, but my muscles tingled as if it had recently been jolted by a significant amount of electricity.

I blinked rapidly until the blurry shapes before my eyes sharpened into focus. There was something like a long, unbroken, streak of red paint on the stone floor to my right. There were also curious lines carved into the hard, stone floor with, what must've been, glow in the dark paint. With some difficulty I turned my head around and found that it formed a circle around me, the room being dimly illuminated by small, red candles.

“Oh fuck me…" I whispered, my eyes widening, suddenly feeling incredibly cold and all too conscious of the fact that I was naked. I was less angry about the nudity, and more disappointed at the fact that the very expensive clothes I had specifically bought for the first day of school were now gone. As sensation slowly returned to my body, the cold began to seep and spread through my skin. I was suddenly all too aware that not only was I naked, I was also damp. My skin was covered in a thin sheen of water or, perhaps, sweat. My god, I was hoping it was just sweat. I could smell something else in the air that I was hoping didn't come from me.

“What the hell…" I muttered, my voice trailing off into a whisper as I scanned my surroundings, falling further into confusion with every new thing that came into view. Was this some kind of ritual sacrifice? Fuck, my Aunt was right about college after all!

I had heard exaggerated stories about crazy things happening during Rush, but I had never put much stock in the ones that involved Satanism. Before I could move, or even scream, a meaty hand grabbed me by the back of my neck and forced me to my feet. Claws dug into my skin, and I was forced to move with them to avoid injury. I was caught off guard by the arm attached to them as it was covered in smooth, emerald-green scales that glittered like dull jewels in the candlelight.

“First of all, human, this is not Hell, Jahannam, Naraka, Tartarus, or…" I heard a snort behind me followed by hot air brushing against the hairs on my neck, “...any other place your kind babbles about. You have died and now you are here. This is our world, nothing more, nothing less. It's your world now, too."

I managed to free myself from his grip and I spun around, freezing at the sight of what I could only describe as a humanoid dinosaur, towering before me in what looked like, heavy, but surprisingly revealing, chainmail. Shackles dangled from long, silver chains clutched in his left hand. His long, slender fingers ended with sharp claws that looked quite threatening. The more I looked at him, the less he looked like a dinosaur, and more like a mixture of a dragon and a man. It was as if he had stepped out of a fantasy video game, complete with a far too revealing set of armour that highlighted his taut, scaly muscles. Honestly, what did that even protect?

The dragon noticed me staring at the shackles in his hands. He chuckled under his breath and dangled them closer to my face, “you don't have to make this harder than it already is, just stick your hands out and-"

Before he even finished speaking, I made a break for it. I jumped to my feet and ran as quickly as I could manage under these cold and slippery conditions. I didn't even know where I was going. I didn't even fully comprehend everything that I saw before me as I ran. They were all a fast blur of stone, steel, and fire that blurred into one, muddy vision. I desperately wanted to get the hell out of there and out of this, obviously, sick, cruel prank. After all, it couldn't be that I actually was running away from a dragonman, could it?

I didn't get far. I felt cold steel slam against the back of my neck, and the next thing I knew I was pinned up against a column. I tried to struggle away from the tight grip that held me tight against the hard stone, but to my astonishment, I couldn't even move an inch. I managed to move my face away from the wall, and was surprised to see beautiful, golden, glowing tendrils wrapped around my body. They didn't seem to be attached to anything, yet they somehow managed to hold me tight against the wall. I was shocked into sudden stillness at the sight before me. Considering there were dragonmen, and suspicious markings on the ground, could this be magic after all? Real magic?

Then even before the green dragonman was close enough to do anything, a metal triangle with sharp prongs on the inside was pushed up against my throat. It was attached to a wooden shaft that was held by a new pair of hands, this one was covered in deep, crimson scales that seemed to swallow the firelight.

“Why do they always try to run?" the red one smirked, his voice a deep, silky tenor that caressed my skin. Although I couldn't turn to see it, I felt that his face was quite close to my skin. I felt quick, soft, caresses from something slick and cool against the skin of my neck. His voice was a whisper, but clear, as he spoke close to my ears. “Skinny little human like you will live in the lap of luxury, don't you know? Why do you run?"

The other dragonman snapped his fingers and the golden tendrils vanished around my body, quickly fading into oblivion. It was as if the tendrils had just suddenly melted on my skin.

“Nowhere to run, human. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere but here, and here is where you'll be until the day you die," the other one explained as I heard more rattling of steel behind me.

Struggling, I tried to free myself but the metal prongs only dug deeper into my skin. The red dragonman lifted the shaft, forcing me to balance myself on tiptoes just to keep the prongs from piercing my skin.

“Sit still or you're gonna start bleeding," the green one explained as he stepped closer, the shackles clanking against his armor.

“Who…" I gasped out. Just uttering the word was enough to jab the spikes into my skin. But I had mustered the courage to finally speak and I wasn't about to let it go to waste. “Who are you?"

“Your temporary owners," the green dragon pulled me by my bound wrists and leaned forward, darting a long, forked tongue against my cheek. “We rescued you from an ignoble death and are giving you a chance to start over in exchange for service."

Shuddering, I tried to move my head to wipe off the wet spot on my cheek that the dragon had left but couldn't. My skin still tingled from the sensation as I spoke, “I never asked for this."

“Yet here you are," I felt the shackles wrap tighter around my wrists as something clicks in place. The chain was heavy, weighing me down. The red dragonman seemed to prefer whispering his words as close to my face as he could manage. I could feel his warm breath on my damp skin, as well as the occasional flicker of his wet, long, tongue. “We saved you and now you're to serve whoever purchases you. A lot of time and resources were spent on the ritual, and the debt will be repaid, one way or another. Slavery would be the more… appealing option, I assure you."

“Slavery!?" I exclaimed. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

“You should be grateful," the green one bent over and attached shackles to my ankles as well. “Considering your origins, your price will be high. And chances are you'll be sleeping in silk sheets by the end of the auction today. There are plenty of nobles who prefer a body like yours. It's been awhile since we've had someone so petite be pulled into the summon."

I bristled at his words. Of all the things I could be offended about, especially in this situation, it had to be comments about my body. I was sensitive about the fact that I had always been on the slim side of things. No matter how much food I ate, or how much I exercised and drank those damn protein shakes, I could never manage to gain that much weight or muscle.

“Silk sheets, good food, comfortable living… and all you need to do is just bend over every night," the red dragon laughed ominously. I didn't like the implication, but I was afraid to ask for further detail..

As if he had read my mind, the green one wrapped his hand around my limp penis, reminding me of my nudity. His scales felt cold and smooth, a decidedly uncomfortable and alien sensation, as he stroked me mockingly. Occasionally I felt his claws tenderly caress the sensitive skin of my soft cock, particularly the flesh of my sensitive cockhead. His voice was a low, deep, husky whisper against my ear, “dunno if this one likes that sort of thing, but some of those nobles like to take it up the ass too. He might end up as the dom."

“This scrawny fucker?" the red one snorted, moving his hand to cup, lightly squeeze, and pull at my balls as his friend continued playing with my tool. “Nah, he'll be a butt-toy, I'd bet my salary on it. Think he's even weaker than Silkcoat. But I admit, his balls are larger than the ones we usually get. Tell me, do you cum lots, boy? Some masters love a toy that produces a lot of seed."

“Guess we'll find out," the green one said as the polearm was suddenly released from my throat, causing me to fall onto my rear. I was ordered to remain seated by the red one and I complied out of fear. “Silk! Get in here!"

Another set of scaled hands grabbed me by the chin and lifted my head. The red dragon placed one more piece of metal around me, a collar for my neck, and twisted it around so that the right fastening faced him. He leaned in, golden eyes staring possessively at me, and spoke in a low, stern voice.

“Sit still or you'll get hurt. And tuck your legs in," he instructed. “Silkcoat has sharp tools. You wouldn't want anything getting cut off accidentally now, would you?"

“Don't threaten him with a good time," the other dragonman said jokingly.

Pulling me forward by the neck, I complied and put my legs back as instructed. I was inches away from the powerful dragon's mouth as he leaned in closer until his scaly lips almost touched the collar. A blue whisper of flame escaped his lips, much like a pilot light on a furnace, and the piece of metal jutting out from the collar began to turn bright red.

Some molten metal dripped onto the ground harmlessly. I could feel the collar heating up and I feared getting burned but was too afraid to resist. Finally, the dragon pulled away and grabbed a ladle from the side, dumping some water on the molten metal with a sharp hiss.

I knew that the collar was now welded shut around my neck. There was no getting it off, at least not easily. There was no question as to what I was now.

A soft hand touched my shoulder and caressed it. I looked up and saw a naked fox standing on two legs wearing a similar collar and carrying a bowl of liquid along with some tools.

“Nothing personal, human," the green dragon crossed his arms. “But some of the nobles won't take a human with a mane like yours, they think it makes you too independent."

The fox ran some kind of oil through my shoulder-length hair, the same hair I spent all of high school trying to grow out just to piss off my family. Fuck, I was proud of it, but at this point I was defeated, there was no point in resisting, at least not over the subject of hair.

Maybe at a later time…then I could find a way. After all, hair would grow back. I couldn't say the same for limbs and bones. Despite the harsh, if not fantastical, reality before me. I was hopeful that this was not the end of it. This couldn't be my only fate in life, could it?

“What's your name?" The fox named Silkcoat whispered lowly in my ear, their voice was kind, but also afraid.

“Heath…" I whispered.

“That don't matter none," one of the dragonmen said, but I couldn't say who. “You'll likely be given a new one. Best to forget about who you were, and put more effort into who you have to be."

I closed my eyes and covered them with my bound arms at an awkward angle, my shackles not providing much leeway in terms of mobility. His words shook me more than I expected, as it was a clear indication of my current circumstances, and a warning of what lay ahead. I felt a sharp, razor scrape against my scalp seconds later and felt my precious hair fall away, across my shoulders, and onto the ground. Peeking out of watery eyes, I watched as my hair started covering the floor.

Shivering, my head feeling suddenly so bare and cold, I tried to block out the sensation and the sounds of the two dragons chuckling at the sight of me. To Silkcoat's credit, his (or her) face remained neutral as he silently went about his task. I closed my eyes again and worked to pretend that I was somewhere, anywhere else. I was delusional enough to believe this had to be some prank by some kind of furry fandom fraternity. Had I gone to rush after all? Had I gotten so drunk that I had forgotten having gone to the frat parties in the first place? Had I forgotten that I had already gone to school, lived a normal life that was devoid of dragonmen, shiny, magic ropes, talking foxes, and cold, hard chains and steel collars that dug into my skin? Reality was what I had before. What I still had. Surely what it was just now was a dream, a nightmare, or a delusion borne from the consumption of too much alcohol. Had I started experimenting with drugs and had just forgotten it? That this was an absurd magical mushroom trip that I've read about in books and seen in movies?

But I knew the chains on my body felt too real for anything like that. The dragons, with their smooth, shiny scales, looked far too real, as fantastical as they were. The fox that groomed me looked and felt too real. I felt his claws as they caressed my skin. I felt his fur on my body, something in between being coarse and soft. The cold, damp, stone floor below me was far too real to ignore. Then there were the smells, something that grew stronger every time the fox stepped closer. The dragons were relatively scentless, save for whenever their mouths moved closer to my face. Then I would get a whiff of sulfur, like a match having recently been lit and burned out.

There was no way to deny the overwhelming reality of my situation, as fantastical as it may be. I was naked, bound and damp on the floor, watched over by dragon guards as a fox shaved me clean of body hair.

With one final scrape across my head, I could feel the last strands of hair fall away. There was a brief relief that we had finished that was quickly dashed when I was suddenly forced onto my hands and knees.

“Please raise your buttocks, arch your back, and have your shoulders touch the ground," the fox whispered in a dry, clinical voice.

Confused by the instruction, I felt rough hands mold me into the shape that the fox had instructed, my ass now exposed to the air.

“I'll help," I heard one of the dragons say with glee in their voice before I felt scaly hands grip my butt cheeks and spread them open. A different set of hands coated my ass and hole in what must have been oil. Occasionally, it felt like extra pressure was placed by the fingers that caressed me as it passed by my hole. “Don't move."

I felt the razor glide across the skin of my ass, and I knew the fox was now meticulously cleaning my bottom clear of whatever hair there was. The position was incredibly uncomfortable, the chains and manacles digging into my skin as I worked hard to maintain the angle I was in. But there wasn't much room to move as the dragon's hands, as firm as they were, held me tight in their grip. It didn't take long for the razor to stop, before it was replaced by massaging hands, perhaps cleaning my ass of any straggling, cut, strands. But to me, it felt like I was also being studied. I felt fingers circling my hole, occasionally putting pressure on my entrance, threatening entry. I worked to make sure my hold didn't pucker at the ministrations, but I was suddenly all too aware of the heavy breathing around me.

More oil was spread on my skin, and the fox's hands began coating my, now smooth, cock and balls with oil.

“You're lucky you're a shower. They more often get more bids than the growers," he explained as he slowly, and gently, began to jerk me off. “It's good to make everything shiny. They like that."

Suddenly, a heavy scaled hand, the green one's…I could tell them just by touch now…patted me on the head as if I were a pet that had done something good.

“You're done, get up. Personally I prefer humans with hair, but Guild rules are absolute…" the green one gave me one final pat on the head, his scales felt like cold, smooth steel on my skin. “Come on, get up."

I didn't move, it was all too much to process. Of course, they weren't about to give me time to think and relax, the red dragon suddenly grabbed me by the wrist chains and forced me to my feet.

“Come," the red one whispered into my ear, giving me another lick on the cheek, “your master awaits."

“Who?" I asked, feeling flushed and embarrassed at what had just happened. I tried to get to my feet, but stumbled and nearly lost my balance. But the green dragon held my chain tight, keeping me on my feet before pushing me firmly on the back, forcing me to walk.

“Whoever has the largest purse," he replied. “Or the fiercest aura."

My heart began to race. Not only was it slavery but I was to be sold at some kind of auction? To be left to the whims of some rich monster whom I knew nothing about? If dragons and fox people were real, what else were there? I imagined large, hairy, frightening creatures, each one vying for my flesh. I couldn't help but wonder if I really was to be sold as a slave, and not as food.

“Can I ask a question?" I gulped, while staring at the floor and the green dragon's tail trailing on the stone behind him.

“Slaves don't usually get to ask questions, guild rules," the green one shrugged. “But I find them cute, so go ahead."

“Are there any other humans here?" I asked.

“Only the ones that come through the portal," the green dragon pointed to the magical circle that we were moving away from. “Used to be, it would happen at random but we found ways to make it activate more regularly. Set up a business."

“Of enslaving humans?"

“Rescuing them from certain death and helping them find a patron in their new world," he peered back at me and narrowed his emerald eyes. “The ones before would wander around without any connections or friends and bad things would happen to them, far worse things than being sold into your kind of slavery."

“My kind?"

“Humans are expensive, so you'll be living quite a comfortable life. Not a whole lot of nobles want to pay for a human to be a dueling slave. Far too many more would rather have humans as fine cuisine instead."

“A dueling sla-? Cuisine!?"

“Enough questions," he spat out as we stopped before a heavy, wooden door. I could hear rowdy voices echoing from beyond the entryway. “Your fate lies on the other side, are you ready?"

“No," I reply honestly, my mind racing with possibilities of what lay beyond.

“Tough shit."

The red dragon flung the door open and I instinctively covered my eyes as bright candlelight invaded the dark room. Blinded, I was pushed forward into a warm room where cheers and jeers met me, mixed with sexual comments about my body and my cock.

When I finally was able to open my eyes, I found myself before a collection of beast people. With canines, felines both big and small, rodents, dragons, even some birds. There were even a few humans, most of whom were barely clothed and providing services to their bestial masters: massages, fanning…there was even one human woman with her lips locked with a wolf, making out while both of their hands reached into the other's thighs. Her bosom was bare and heaving, her skin shiny with oil or sweat, while a large, clawed, paw held her lower back.

I couldn't help but notice that almost all of the humans I saw were incredibly well built and attractive. Their bodies were mostly hairless like mine, but their taught skin held muscles that I clearly lacked. The men had large biceps and bulging pecs, while the women were mostly svelte, even if some had larger hips, and copious breasts.

In comparison, I was far thinner with far less muscles, a result of a lifetime spent indoors, playing video games and reading books. My arms and legs were thin in comparison to the bulging muscles of the surrounding male, human slaves. My body was closer to the thinner women in the room, but with a clearly smaller chest. Although I was tall, my thin figure made me look quite lanky in comparison to the other men. I suppose in comparison to them, I had a larger ass. I couldn't help but wonder, how that could possibly work in my favor.

Guess I never was meant to turn things around. Now I'm a whole new kind of loser than I was in high school.

“The final lot for tonight, and we must thank you for waiting," an auctioneer announced, who was a much slimmer and shorter dragon with gold-colored scales and a shimmering silk black tunic and trousers. He had a long, white, expertly coiffed mustache that curled at the tips. “Fresh from being saved from certain death in the world of humans, we have this young, fresh male. He has just come of age and is looking for a new master."

The gold dragon snatched me by the chin and pulled my lips open with his claws.

“Note the impeccable teeth, totally straight and as white as flawless pearls!" his palm trailed down my chest, and across my smooth belly. “Smooth skin with hairs so fine you can hardly even feel them!"

I couldn't help but notice a few in the crowd take particular interest: a wolf with heavy scars across his face, a vixen with two humans feeding her grapes, and a lion in a blue robe that clearly had once been exquisite but was now covered in a significant amount of wear and tear. All of them were following my every forced movement with interest. The auctioneer then turned me around and forced me to bend over at the waist, exposing my ass for the audience to see.

“Now see his ass, watch as it puckers, pink, soft, and warm just awaiting for the right master to break him in. Think of the cold nights you could spend, tucked into this fine, hot, ass. My lords and ladies, I can proudly say that he is a confirmed anal virgin!"

“Wait," I spoke up, my eyes going wide. I peered over my shoulder. “How did-"

Turning towards me, the dragon hissed under his breath, “Shut up, slave!"

He then turned me back around, moving his scaled hand onto my crotch.

“Most importantly though," the dragon flicked my penis with his claws and made it wiggle, “not too big, not too small! Just the perfect size! His cock doesn't only look big while soft, it gets even bigger! And look at these balls, smooth and large. He is guaranteed to spill a copious amount of seed. The vintage has not been tasted, but it is guaranteed to be delicious."

With a spin of his legs and sweep of his tail, the dragon twirled me around and waved his arms, “Do we have a starting bid of one thousand crowns?"

“One thousand!" the vixen raised her hand.

“We have one thousand from Duchess Violet, the eternal flower of Dashava!" the dragon announced. “Seems like the human will have a very lucky new home unless we get a one thousand and one hundred?"

“Aye!" the wolf spoke up.

“Got a bid from Fulrich, the Raider King! Better start stretching your butt now human, won't someone save the human from such a f-"

“One thousand and five hundred!"

The dragon went silent when he saw the lion raise his hand and smile.

Clearing his throat, the dragon adjusted the collar of his tunic, “Marquis Roxen, I recommend you attend the auction after this. We have bargain dueling slaves, this one is a bed slave."

“He'll make a fine dueling slave."

“Shit," the dragon shook his head and whispered to me, “tough break, human, but fate is not kind to all of us."

“What do you m-"

“We have one thousand and five hundred! Anyone care to rescue the human from being forced to duel for such an old and ancient house?"

“One thousand and six hundred crowns!" the vixen frowned, leaning forward in her chair.

I couldn't quite understand this whole slavery thing, but from what the dragon had implied, I'd have a better chance of survival with her than the lion who had been named Marquis.

“One thousand and seven hundred!" the wolf growled, narrowing his eyes at the two other bidders, showing a row of large, sharp, teeth.

I wasn't so keen on the wolf as well, but at least the goddamned dragon hadn't given me a red flag warning about him. I started to wonder what the difference was between a dueling slave and a bed slave, save for the obvious implication of their respective names…

“One thousand and eight hundred!" the vixen fired back, moving to her feet revealing her long, luxurious tail.

“Two thousand!"

Once again, the lion drew a quiet gaze. For as much as he drew everyone's attention, he just sat there with a calm smile on his face. He hadn't raised his voice, but it was still heard by everyone in the room. It was deep and guttural, and I felt it in my core every time he spoke.

This time the room remained silent.

“Any more bids?" the golden dragon seemingly had abandoned the theatrics and now spoke simply. His gaze wandered around the room, a surprisingly empathetic plea in his voice, “anyone?"

I felt conflicted. I didn't want to be fought over like a piece of antique furniture at an auction, but at the same time, if I had no choice but to be a goddamned mahogany chair, I wanted to be bought by the person who wouldn't use me for firewood. I would much rather the fox sit on me instead.

But what could I do? Unionize? Refuse the bid? What rights do I have as a slave in choosing a master, if any?

Alas, it would seem that fate had something else in store for me as the silence stretched on. Both the wolf and fox had displeasure on their faces, seemingly growling at the smug lion who was staring at me intently.

“Sold!" the dragon banged a gavel against a desk. “As that was the last lot and knowing of your past…credit issues…I would invite you up here to settle things directly, if you would, please."

Without changing his expression, the lion stood up and strode down the hall, the others making way for him. There was something graceful about him, despite the tears in his clothes. His fur was a golden yellow, save for the brown mane around his neck, upon which several braids dangled with silver rings wrapped around them. I watched as several creatures whispered amongst themselves as he passed them by. I would not be surprised if he could hear every word that was being spoken, but his expression never wavered as he made his way towards me.

“Here is my bank note and a letter of approval, assuring you there will be no credit issues," the lion was passed a quill that was dripping with ink and he signed the paper before passing it to the dragon. “That should be all, I presume?"

The dragon took out an eye piece and leaned in, examining the document closely. At one point he even sniffed the paper, before a clear look of surprise painted his face.

“Very well," the dragon pulled me forward by the wrist chains and pointed them at the lion. “He's yours now,"

“Very good," the lion gently grabbed my chains and motioned towards the back of the auction chamber. “Come along then. And auctioneer…"

He stopped, turning to glance down at the dragon next to him. For the first time I noticed that no matter how tall the auctioneer dragon was, the lion before me was taller. “Never question me so publicly again, or it will be your last."

As we walked away from the auction block, his tufted tail wrapped around my leg, stroking my calves.

I watched the others make way for us as we moved past. Distantly, I saw the fox lady shake her head in sadness before waving genially at me. The wolf on the other hand merely shrugged his shoulders before turning his attention elsewhere.

“What's your name?" I suddenly heard him ask in his deep, guttural, voice.

“My name…" I suddenly felt quite foolish. For a moment I had forgotten it, having been swept up with everything. Hell, I almost felt like I deserved another name now that I was in a different world, living a different life.

But that's the kind of identity crisis the dragons probably wanted me to have as a slave, right?

“My name is Heath."

“Lovely name," he stopped and caressed my cheek with his palms, his pads were soft to the touch. “You probably have some questions about what I need you for. I will answer them in due time."

As the spectacle of the auction faded, the activity around me ramped up, changing likely into what it once was before I had stepped out and joined the auction. Distantly, I noticed a few of the human slaves looking at me with pitying eyes.

“But, understand that I bought you because I see a lot of potential in you. I think you will defend my honor well. There will be rewards, of course. As much as a slave is meant to have, perhaps even more."

Before I could respond, he gently scratched me on the chin, drawing my attention back to his face. For the first time, I studied him up close. He had a scar just below his left eye, a patch of pink, hairless skin that could only be seen when you were close. He towered over me with an extra foot. He was wider than my thin frame by quite a lot, and he clearly had muscles under his cloak and the fur that covered his body. “My name is Marquis Roxen Armetus a'Valuria, but you may call me Master."

“Master…" I shivered. As someone who had been a free man just shortly before, it was unsettling calling someone that.

His hand rubbed the top of my head, “We'll have to get your mane grown back, if you want it. For now, just relax, the journey to your new home is long and arduous… but it will be a home."

I closed my eyes at his words, contemplating the day that had passed. It was the day that I had died and became a slave in another world.