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Are we not Human because we do not know...

It was about 6:00 PM when a truck drove up to the gate of the fine mansion and paused there. Two strong men got out of the driver's and passenger's seats and walked around to the back of the truck; the sliding door was lifted and a scarred young man was forced out into the open. He blinked as the fading sunlight stung his eyes, and tried to rub his cuffed hands back to life as the transporters took him firmly by the arms and guided him toward the gate.

"The form says to just leave him here," one of the men said, and the other took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, snapping one end around the slave's forearm and the other end around a fence pole.

"No signature needed?"

"Nope."

The two men climbed back into the truck and drove away, abandoning the young man as rain clouds quickly filled the sky and began to rain, obscuring the sunlight and drenching him with cold, wet moisture. With his good eye the slave looked about the grounds of the mansion, wondering how long he would have to wait in this weather until he was fetched by whoever lived inside.

Are we not Human because we do not know...

Warily, the boy allowed the woman to guide him into the mansion, which was very pretty and far better managed than his previous master's fortress. He could only hope that this lady treated the living beings she owned as well as her grounds.

Inside the house was warm and dry, and there was a fire burning invitingly in the next room, but the slave still shivered from the cold of his damp garments as he eyed his new mistress carefully, ready to bolt at a moment's notice, even though he knew he probably wouldn't get very far.

Are we not Human because we do not know...

The young man was at first not going to say a thing to her, but suddenly a feeling of reassurance and calm came out of nowhere, catching him off-guard and sending his mind into bewilderment for a few seconds before he finally adapted to the new emotion.

"I... no, mistress, I'm not injured..." As the chains were removed from his hands, he lifted one and used it to brush aside his bangs in a vague attempt to clean himself up, "Just... cold. I'm sorry..." He wasn't even cold, really, just sort of numb where his damp clothing touched his skin. He looked at the young woman with curious brown eyes, trying to figure out if she was just like Alaecious -- Nice until it comes down to that ultimate "no".

... whether we have won or lost until we die?

Are we not Human because we do not know...

Haneul stood and watched her go with a sense of strange calm washing over him for no reason at all that he could discern. Could it be something she was doing to him? He'd seen weirder before, and Haneul had learned some time ago that just because a person looked Human didn't mean that they had Human limitations. He directed his attentions to looking about the room he was in, exploring it and looking around before finally deciding that it was high time he cleaned up and changed.

He hadn't had a bath for so long... the shower was one of the best things he'd ever experienced. Finally emerging feeling fresher and cleaner than he had in over a year, he toweled off and got dressed in the simple but well-fitting clothing that his mistress had provided for him. Then he left the room and went downstairs, retracing his steps until he reached the room where he had seen the fireplace upon his entrance.

"I'm here, mistress," he said with a careful bow. He wasn't going to take any chances; the shower and clean clothes had reminded him how lucky he was to have such things again. His scar and blinded eye also served as a constant, painful reminder of what it meant to be something less than Human.

Are we not Human because we do not know...

Haneul was initially surprised by her friendliness and open nature toward him; it had been a long time since he'd been counted as anything but a slave. Looking at her, he wondered if she really saw him as a friend the way he saw his friends. How could anybody want to be friends with somebody who had had half of his face burned off?

Still, he obediently sat down in the arm chair, watching her with sharply curious brown eyes.

"Thank you... Avalon," he said to her, as if trying out the syllables on his tongue for the first time. His accent, while faint, was definitely there, enough to make it evident that English was not his first language.

Are we not Human because we do not know...

Haneul shook his head in reply. "I'm alright... Avalon," he hesitated again, still not used to the freedom of using her real name, "I don't eat much." It was true, really -- the mistreatment and malnourishment that had been his lot for so long had taught him to adapt, so he usually needed only something small each day to survive on.

"But I will join you, if you wish it," he added, still worried that her kindness was too good to be true. And he really wouldn't mind having something to eat...

Are we not Human because we do not know...

"Haneul," he responded, briefly standing in preparation to break the log himself, but sitting back down when Avalon did it herself. This was beginning to seem more and more like a place he could actually function in; a place where, perhaps, he could find ways of tracking down the fate of his friend.

But then again... Half of his mind (probably the right-hand side, with all the scars up and down it) refused to believe in the goodness and reality of this situation.

"My full name is Ssi Haneul," he spoke, volunteering the information of his full identity, which had been robbed from him during the first few weeks of training. You don't have an identity anymore, they had told him every time he fought back and was punished, You're nobody. You're a slave.



((Sorry, I couldn't resist a little bit of humor there with the sides of the brain and all... feel free to cast me into the pungeon for my heinous word play LOL)