Legends of Belariath
Copper
The Escape of the Sable Kitten
She had been give the name of copper, at first glance one might guess why. But as sun streamed in on the small feline’s cap of dark chocolate, that light would catch those tendrils and light a fire beneath them, what seemed like a mere dark brown turned into a burnished copper, reddish brown silk, fluffy and light at her birth. But that is how she came to be called Copper. As her life continued, it was only what she knew, others who might have known something else might have called it hell, but when you didn’t have a heaven, or pleasure to compare it to, it was hard to reconcile to the image of another type of lifestyle. She was often alone when it was allowed, trying to find refuge in the depths of forest that surrounded the cottage that was her home. Her mother was the only bright spot in the kitten’s life, while not able to stand-up to her husband, Copper’s stepfather, she often tried to shield her daughter as much as she could, fear and beatings often diminishing what little joy she could offer her daughter. She didn’t see her mother at fault in this, perhaps a weakling, but she had never really known a strong female, had never seen a female who had stood up against a man.
Her stepfather, the only male figure in her life really, didn’t allow for an image of the masculine figure to be anything but awful, to be feared and avoided at all costs. He was a slaver by trade, often enslaving the lost, the weary, the misfortunate. Of course, he wasn’t a smart slaver, often abusing the slaves he had captured to the point of lowering their sale value, to the point of his family living on a meager existence. He was a vicious man, reveling in his own low station, often lost in the bottle, at which time came the worst of the beatings, knowing when the drinking started, it was time to hide.
Often though, hiding didn’t come soon enough, or done well enough, and the kitten would be battered and bruised for days after, the punches and kicks and belt marks leaving their tale upon her flesh, a palate of her life, truth to the hell of it. But she knew nothing else, the small cottage rather isolated to all but those that passed along the seldom used road, most of their existence coming from the land, and as Copper grew older, finding refuge there, she would learn by trial and error, the way to hunt, to trap and snare prey to feed her mother, and by fault, her stepfather. She gave thanks to the goddess of the forest, prayed for safe passage of the creatures souls before she tended the meat, but knew it respect, even in its death, for its death meant their survival.
When she turned 18, things only got worse, beatings often came with threats of collaring the young kitten, either for his own perverse pleasure, or to sell to the next wayward traveler who came across the cottage, lonely and in need of feminine comfort, that came in the form of slave flesh. She knew it would come to, even though he was lazy, often his threats came to bear truth in some strange way. She knew if she didn’t run, she would one day end up in a collar. But she hadn’t found the strength yet to depart from her mother, in many ways staying to take care of the more fragile of the two.
Finally, that moment came, the drunken beast attacking the kitten, beating her and ripping the clothes from her flesh. But finally, in that moment she most feared, her mother, so weak, so battered from the moment the slaver had taken her as his own, so fearful and timid in most minutes, finally had had enough and she rose up, taking a knife from the kitchen, the man so startled by the sharp pain from behind, never guessing the woman he had beaten so many times, knew was afraid for her very life because of him, would find the courage within herself to fight back, but she did, that dagger soon finding something vital, a gurgling coming from the beast’s lips before slumping dead.
She called out to her daughter, tossing some leather clothing at her, probably not the best, but they would clothe and protect her daughter from the elements, her voice filled with a hope the kitten had never known..”run! Run for your life Copper, and never look back to this place! Never! Find something better!”. And she did just that, she ran for her life, her breath soon hurting as she ran with all her strength could muster, soon pausing, panting hard, then running again, not quitting completely until the shadows rose, squelching the guide of daylight. Small camp of crossed sticks and leaves would make a makeshift tent, protection from night as she slept. Then ran again within morning’s waking light.
Eventually she would find the town of Nanthalion, a new chapter within her life, but like her first one, it would not fare well, the first meeting of her new life came in the form of a wicked beast, nasty in form, a nightmare of the dragons, their dream of hell in flesh. A monster created by monsters, an abomination truly, would capture the naïve kitten, collaring her in unofficial manner, making her merely a sex-toy, with no true emotions or feelings, she soon learned the carnal arts of pleasing her new Master, her life one of object misery, finding in that mental station, only pleasure in pleasing, when not in use, often chained to a wall within his cave, alone to whither, to wait expectantly at his return, so festered within was her illness, her lack of control or will, all taken by this beast.
But there came a time when he didn’t return to the cave, when stomach came to ail from lack of food, even in his savagery to the girl, she had never starved at his hand, and now her belly rumbled in pains that would collapse her for long times, not allowing sleep, dillusions soon festering within the depths of her mind, seeing things that couldn’t be..
She awoke then, on the banks of the river near the cave, not certain how she had been freed of the cave, but she wanted to escape her past, in fact as she tried to remember it, a pain came to her mind, blinding her from that fear that had existed. She rose, her life beginning once again. It is often said cats have nine lives, and she felt she now rose to exist within her third, only a kitten of 19 years now, soon to be 20 as she began this third stage of her life in Nanthalion.