Free Kingdom of Lies by Cato Zachrisen Page A

started as a chimney sweep and the soot soiled her skin as her hair took on a dirty knotted appearance. At age six, among the few who survived with their lungs in tact she was sent to work the fields. The few areas that weren’t practically barren were mainly farmed by indentured laborers from outside villages who worked in exchange for not being enslaved. Slaves were forced to bring crops from the other lands and punished severely for failure. Tarr was among the few who succeeded. She was rumored to have a special farmer’s touch and this favor got her nothing but more grief. Rumors started that she must be part magic and that was banned in Quatz who resented anything not of physical might. They tolerated mental prowess for strategy but magic was outlawed in the kingdom. Tarr was forced to grow crops but punished daily for wielding magic she didn’t understand. What she did didn’t seem magical to her yet she was punished regularly through flogging, beatings and starvation. One day she was beaten so severely that she just fell down in the fields. Left until nightfall she broiled in the sun. When taken to the medic it was decided she was at death’s door and of no further use.
    She was thrown in a cart with the other bodies and taken to The Death Pit. Slaves were not considered worthy of burial. So they were often disposed of in alternate ways including bonfires. Tarr was dumped in along with the others and landed on the already sinking pile of sinking bodies. Warm grease was also poured down the sides to prevent any surviving slaves from climbing out. In the past a few slaves faked being dead with hopes of escaping after being flung in.
    Tarr could smell the stink of death but was immobile. She could feel herself slipping away then felt nothing. Suddenly she woke up feeling restored but different. The pile had sunk greatly and in a matter of hours she would be pulled under the depths of the sands. Climbing over the rotting bodies and fighting the stench was almost too much to bear. But she was determined to take full advantage of this second chance. The grease was even more difficult to face. Thankfully there were branches and brambles she could hold unto. By the time she climbed out the skin on her hands was flayed and most of her fingers cut and broken. She had lost her left pinky to the brambles but was very much alive.
    Running through the empty lands she didn’t stop until she hit a village. But the people there weren’t welcoming and threw stones when she tried to beg for help. Fleeing into the trees she lived off weeds and berries and drank from a nearby stream. When men from the village saw her, they came with bad intentions. At nightfall she was attacked but when she hit one of them he fell down dead. The others stepped back and Tarr could only look down in alarm. Nothing happened when they grabbed her yet a single touch from her brought on instant death. In anger the men brought out weapons and she barely escaped with her life hearing words like ‘demon’ ‘evil’ ‘whore’ and many others she didn’t want to commit to memory. But there was one she agreed with. That was monster.
    Yet there was a silver lining. That one touch healed her of all her ailments and even brought back some of her beauty. She soon met other slaves in the woods who saw her ability as a blessing from the gods. One, a redheaded Firarian, was able to explain to her how magic worked. All use had a price and while Tarr was dying her power to grow things turned into one of devouring to keep her alive. Now it hungered for the life of living things except for the vegetation she had so lovingly grown during her time of slavery. Sadly there was no way to stop it but Tarr could use it. The woman’s name was Sahar and she had magical blood that allowed her to create shields and had defensive abilities. Sahar taught Tarr to use her power to only defend others and how to live a life without the gift of being able to touch another living