Raco had known that this day would come. She'd often imagined herself in such a position, at the mercy of another simply because of the life afforded to her by fate. Yet, was fate truly to blame? Was sinning not a choice? How many professions were there? Nobody had forced her hand into whoring, it was something she'd taken up to survive, just as the mole barrows to survive and the predator stalks its prey to survive. And now the nature of her profession spelt the end of her survival. It was funny if one thought about it, but she couldn't bring herself to laugh. If she was alone she would have resigned to fate, she wouldn't have been as she was. But now, beside her son sprawled before the Prince of the West, she found herself utterly submerged in terror, dragged to its depths. Kaza! He had to live. Kaza! She had to save him, she had to find a way.

  She raised herself off the awkward position she'd landed in after being flung before the Prince of the West. Her knees dug into the dirt as she prostrated herself before Prince Benji in the most abject show of servitude, humility and resignation. Raco knew kneeling before one whose entire life had him accustomed to seeing everyone bow in his presence, lowering themselves as if he was some divine being who couldn't stand being of same height with anyone, would do little to sway the Prince's resolve. Raco didn't dare raise her head to meet the Prince's eyes but she felt her son beside her shift to mimic her posture.

  "She's the whore?" Prince Benji asked.

  The Village Chief spoke. "Yes your eminence."

  "Eminence? What does that word mean? People keep calling me these titles and they don't even know the meaning." The Prince asked, his deep husky voice sounding through the village square.

  The village Chief struggled to utter a word for a moment before Raco heard him lowering himself to the ground. "It is a word that speaks of your status among the Rad es Maalas, you are set above the rest and said word serves to make that clear."

  Prince Benji seemed satisfied with the answer. "Oh do get up! I was just making conversation, better to start on a light note before the blood starts flowing." And he laughed as Raco heard the Chief lift himself off the ground. "Now, that's the whore. Look at her, Celyd, such an ample behind, look at that raised curve, and the arch of that back! Pity priests don't indulge in carnal matters, eh Celyd? You don't know what you're missing out on."

  "Yes Prince Benji." Another voice, this one spoken softly, as if its owner wished not to be where he was. Wished to be anywhere other than where he was. Raco fought the urge to lift her head to see who'd spoken.

  "Such a fine woman, I understand why the villagers ensured she maintained her profession of Sin." The Prince continued. "I'm of half a mind to have my army take turns with her, fuck her bloody before the village so every young woman will know the price of such a proffesion of Sin."

  Raco trembled, struggled to maintain her position on the ground. The animosity spoken with such casualty indicated that the Prince was not deterred by a sense of morality, justice to him was whatever he could deal that would ensure he felt himself above the rest. Eminence. What would warrant the title? The simple occurrence of one's birth? Basi Haya was a nest of Dragons and to survive the Rad es Maalas worshipped the flame, having it burn away their sense of justice until the least among men, those closer to the Dragon's character, wielded the power to decide the fate of the others. If she was to be raped by an army, she would spread her legs willingly, she would stomach the pain and the death that would come of it, anything to ensure her son lived.

  "And who is this beside her? Why is he staring at me like that — with those eyes."

  Raco lifted her head and peered at Kaza, he wasn't spread out as she was. He was on his knees, yes, but his back was straight, his eyes fixed intently on the Prince of the West. His eyes, those dark slits amidst the whites spoke of the hatred seething within him. Raco reached out and grabbed Kaza by the nape of his neck, trying to force him down but he did not bulge. Oh my son.

  "That is her son," The Chief said. He stood five paces away from the Prince, two paces behind the Prince was a man who must have seen fifty oscillations, burly and short with the white robes of a Priest of the Citadel. He didn't carry a sword but had a large torch in his hands whose burning flame had shadows dancing upon his pate. Raco wondered for the need of a torch when the village bonfire was so brilliantly lit. Then she recalled the tales of the purge, the need for the Dragon's breath to cleanse the Rad es Maalas. They were going to burn her alive, after they were done raping her.

  "Her son? Does he have a father?" Prince Benji asked.

  The Chief shook his head in the negative before realizing whom he was addressing. "No, my Prince. He is a child of Sin, born of a profession of Sin."

  "Does the Village lay claim to the son?" Prince Benji asked.

  The Chief then turned his eyes to her. With one word he could settle the anguish threatening to rip her apart, with one word he could rescue her son, save him from the fate that was soon to be dealt to her. There, before the old man who'd never spared her a glance, Raco's lips moved to utter a silent word. "Please." She mouthed. If a child of Sin, one yet of age before the eyes of the Rad es Maalas, did not have one to claim him as a father would, then the punishment of the parent befell them unless those he grew up with spoke of his innocence, his deeds that were a contrast to the sin of his parents might sway the hand of justice, if only one spoke for Kaza or if the collective claimed him, Kaza would be spared.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "Please." Raco mouthed again.

  "We reject claim for the child, he is a bane to society just as his mother is." The Village Chief spoke so casually, as if passing mention regarding the weather. Raco felt weak, as if the burden she'd been carrying for the better part since she'd heard of the Purge tripled. They'd rejected him, her son who never stole from the villagers, who always kept his head down and ensured he drew little to no attention from all those around him.

  Raco turned her head to the villagers on the other side of the bonfire. She saw Filather, the cobbler who often visited her in the dead of night. He turned his face from her. She saw Huilop, the one who brought her fish in exchange for a dance beneath the sheets, and Lixil, who spoke about his love for her as they lay naked, the copper coins he paid for her services gleaming on the stool. They all looked away. Opirach, Segurion, Valdirim, Kentha, Shawaba, Listroy— They all looked away, huddled amidst their families, their children's smug faces observed her and her son as one would a show put on for entertainment. Their mothers with smug looks of satisfaction as if a prayer they'd repeated to Sin was being answered before their very eyes.

  "Please!" She cried out. "Have none of you mercy? Have none of you not watched my son grow among you? He is a part of you just as the Dragon is a part of the sky! You have a duty to your fellow Rad es Maalas! A duty!" She was frothing at the mouth now, all show of subservience vanquished in the face of dread and turmoil. She had to save her son. "Please—" She made to stand but a blow to the small of her back had her sprawled on the ground once more, Kaza got up to confront the soldier who'd hit her from behind only for him to be pushed back on the ground.

  Kaza raised his head, the soldier's armored foot pining him to the ground prevented him from doing no more than squirm. A savage sneer peeled back his lips to reveal white teeth. Those teeth, the incisors a tad bit too sharp and his reptilian eyes gave his face a serpentine tinge.

  Prince Benji made slow, languid steps to where Raco and her son lay on the ground. He lowered himself to squat before them, then lowered one knee to touch the ground before Kaza. A palid green hand, riddled with veins reached out and touched Kaza's chin, lifting his head up.

  "Please." Raco pleaded. She was weeping now, shoulders shaking, split lip burning. The pain in her back was negligible compared to what she felt within.

  "Speak out of turn one more time and I'll cut off your son's tongue." Prince Benji observed. And Raco pursed her lips shut. "Fascinating! Celyd, come over here and observe this child." The Priest made his way to where the Prince held her son's face. "Look at those eyes, Celyd what do they remind you of?"

  "A Dragon." Awe riddled the Priest's reply.

  Prince Benji let go of her son's chin and his head flopped onto the ground, chin biting hard into the ground, but Kaza still peered up at him. "Child, how did you come about such features? Can't call them pristine, doubt a woman can swoon beneath your gaze. Shudder perhaps, but swoon no."

  Kaza didn't answer.

  "You're unclaimed and your mother is soon going to meet her end, it's how you compose yourself that will sway on how horrid your mother's death would be." Prince Benji said.

  Kaza struggled to speak but the weight of the metal boot on his back made it difficult, with a wave of Prince Benji's hand the weight receded. Kaza sat up, then crossed his legs and hunched his shoulders. As he used to do whenever he pondered on what to say. As if he required his entire body to put across a point. Raco wanted to tell him to kneel but couldn't risk testing the Prince.

  "I am Kaza, the son of a whore." Kaza said. "I am not loved in this village, among the Rad es Maalas or in the entire realm for that matter. I am shunned and ignored and I have no qualm with the hand dealt to me. But." And Kaza turned to Raco, she then saw the tears cascading down her son's cheeks. "Through her, do I know that love exists, she has raised me the best way she could and I have never once strayed into a path of Sin, despite her profession." Kaza turned his head to Prince Benji. "I am yet to come of age, but I vow now upon the very breath I take, I vow upon the foundation of Basi Haya and the soaring of Dragons, I will give you my life to do with as you wish, if you would only spare my mother's life." He bowed then, low, spreading his trembling hands before him. Lanky limbs with a slight touch of muscle flickered with an orange light from the bonfire and the Priest's torch.

  "Kaza." Prince Benji spoke. "Your words have touched me, well, almost touched me. Almost moved me. By Sin I feel a tear almost coming on, do you feel a tear coming Celyd?" The Priest did not answer, he stared at Kaza. Seeing no reply forthcoming, the Prince continued. "I asked you a question, Kaza, how did you come about having a Dragon's eyes? Your life and your servitude matter little to me. It's those eyes looking at me, that's what fascinates me."

  "I do not know." Kaza said. "I've been as I am for as long as I can remember."

  Prince Benji nodded. "Well then, I feel the call of sleep coming on. What say you Celyd? Have the men take turns with the woman until she's on the verge of death then have her and her son burnt in their homestead?" Prince Benji stood up. "Sounds about the right thing to do, according to your three hundred principles and the Scorched book and whatever." Raco sobbed without making a sound, her shoulders shaking, she dug her nails into her palms until they broke skin and blood welled. Yet she could not speak.

  "No." Celyd, the Priest said. "Let them go, let them live, Prince Benji. For one of the Principles of living with Sin speaks of mercy not as a weakness but as a pathway to guide one away from Sin. Spare the mother and her child and you'd have done more for the Rad es Maalas than your predecessors ever did." And Raco pleaded to any God who'd hear for the Prince to heed the Priest's words.

  Prince Benji cocked his head to the side as if considering the option. "You're so wise, Celyd, so wise. Tell you what, I will show mercy." Could she dare hope? Could she dare believe that what dwelt in the hearts of men was not entirely confounded on evil? Prince Benji turned to the army, men in black armor standing still behind him like statues forged of marble. The Prince sighed. "Mercy." He uttered the word as if it were foreign to him. "How to show mercy?" He questioned himself.

  "Let them live, Prince Benji, please let them live." The Priest, Celyd, was begging on their behalf, Raco never thought such a man existed.

  "Okay, I will show mercy." Prince Benji said. "Beat her bloody, nail her to the wall of her dwelling that is witness to Sin, then burn it down with her in it."

  A harsh sentence but the sigh of relief that escaped Raco spoke volumes of how little she cared about herself. The Prince hadn't mentioned Kaza, he had been spared. To what fate she did not know but he had been spared and that was enough for her. Kaza started screaming and a soldier held him to the ground, he thrashed and kicked as other soldiers made their way towards her. She looked at her son, trying to memorize his features as if she could take them with her where she was going. Kaza screamed as the gauntleted fists descended on Raco. She felt her cheek bone shatter, her left eye burnt. A rib cracked, another broke under the barrage of kicks and punches. She collapsed yet her face did not turn away from her son, her weeping, wailing son who would live on. That was enough for her.

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