The Tale of 2369

NOTE: This story is based on the world and characters created by CameoAmalthea. Shriryah is a land ruled by nagas who keep humans as slaves. The humans are divded into three groups: The Shauhy- educated, talented, and gifted, they are kept for the pleasure of their naga; the Servae- workers and servants, and assistants to naga artisans; and the Hyshi- kept like cattle until 18, when they are sold for food.

More information, stories and art of the Nagas of Shriryah may be be found at these sites:

DeviantArt: http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/club/5806/
Y!Gallery: http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/club/5806/

My thanks to CameoAmalthea for creating this world, for her help in providing background and suggestions for this story, and her permission to use it.

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The Tale of 2369

"2369!"

He started, eyes wide, at the sound of his number. His heart raced, even as he moved toward the overseer, who was looking over the herd, searching for an acknowledgment. Irritated, he called the number again, just as 2369 raised his hand. The others moved away, as if his proximity would contaminate them.

The overseer motioned him to come right up to the gate. Beside him was another Servae, evidently one assigned to inside work, for he was cleaner in dress and neater in appearance than the rough and tanned herdsman. 2369 saw the newcomer held one of the flat white things with black markings on it; he saw his number there. His skin prickled, for he knew what this meant. "It's not right, " he thought. "I'm not this year's crop." He said nothing, though. To speak back, even to a Servae, meant punishment- especially for one his age.

He shouldn't have been able to read the number at all, since Hyshi were not educated in such skills. But he had been curious all his life, and observant; he noticed things when the other Hyshi were oblivious. He had been able to puzzle out the meanings of the tattoos found on all Hyshi and realized they were the symbols for the numbers by which they were addressed. There were seven in a row, but the last four were commonly used when addressing one in their group, so it was easy (once he understood that) to discover their meanings. Of the others, the first three were always numbers on all the Hyshi he knew. The ones he lived with bore the same three numbers. He guessed it was their lot number, their group in the herd. He noted that Hyshi with higher numbers were younger, and those with lower were older. One day, while hoeing a row of cabbage, it had struck him: it meant the year they would be 18 years old. His lot's number was 317. He still wondered about the symbol between the lot number and his personal number.

At intervals, a group of Hyshi would disappear. Sometimes individuals would vanish, but every thirty days, he found, all of a numbered lot would be gone. It seemed to relate to the fourth symbol that separated the numbers. He remembered 3512 from lot 314, a rugged blond with a missing tooth who had taken a liking to him. 3512 had shown him many things, and would have been called a friend if the word existed for Hyshi. Then the 314 groups began to vanish, following the last of the 313s. 2369 saw that the mysterious symbol was an indicator. All of a group with the same symbol would be gone on the same day. He counted twelve different designs, and soon was able to predict which Hyshi would vanish next. The night before 3512 was to be taken, 2369 had sneaked to his barracks and lain with him in the way that all the Hyshi had found pleasure. He crept back to his own bunk before dawn, and wept silent tears. 3512 and his lot left early the next day. He never saw 3512 again.

One night, in casual barracks chatter, he said that the last of the 314s would be taken away tomorrow. This statement was greeted with the usual chaffing, but when the 314s vanished, his lot-mates regarded him with fear. He pretended amazement, called it a hunch, and the incident was forgotten. He kept still after that. He doubted an overseer would look kindly on this talent. When the 315s began to disappear, he knew it would happen. No one was surprised at the disappearances- they had gone to be food for the nagas who ruled this land. "You are food," they had been told since earliest childhood. "You are food for our Lords and Masters, the nagas." 2369 understood what the others did not: When the Hyshi reached the age of 18 years, they were sent to the nagas. He understood and accepted it as the order of the world. "That is what we do," he thought.

He also understood that he was still more than a year away from this fate. His lot number was too high to be taken. The Servae were making an error. Maybe they would realize the error. But there was the white square. He saw his full number- lot, month symbol, and personal. There was no error.

The house Servae looked him over and nodded. "An excellent choice for his Lordship. He will be most pleased with it. Thank you for your trouble. We don't often take them this early." The overseer smiled and accepted the small gold piece.

"It's no trouble," he replied, "since his Lordship owns the this herd anyway. He bought the whole farm six years ago." He attached shackles to 2369's ankles, and the boy shuffled off behind the other Servae as the overseer turned back to move the herd on to the day's work. 2369 would never see him again, or his fellows, or the fields where they worked. He would never see the barracks, nor know the pleasures they indulged in at night, which most overseers were happy to ignore, as long as they were properly rested for the day ahead.

The Servae directed him to sit in the back of a cart waiting in front of the compound. He sat with several sacks and boxes while the Clean One mounted the seat beside the frowning driver. "You're going to let it ride?" he asked.

"Walking any distance with the shackles might injure his ankles, or cause him to fall. His Young Lordship has a delicate palate, and he does not like blemishes." The driver snorted and the cart lurched off.

2369 watched his home and everyone he knew recede into the distance. He had was little enough to regret, but it was all he had known. Working in the fields from earliest childhood, the night play with his fellows, and- only last week- he had been chosen to be with a female for a while one afternoon. He had never seen a female up close. Others in his group had been doing it for almost a year before him. He found it hard to see what the purpose was, but it was supervised by the overseers. It must be important. He concluded it had something to do with the hairs now sprouting at the base of his belly. The overseer noticed one day while they were bathing and called him aside later. He had 2369 work his pleasure tool until it spurted a white stream. The youth trembled with the exertion, the overseer seemed pleased, and the next day he went to his first- and as it turned out, only- session with a female. He had never seen one up close and wasnt sure what he should do. One of the older guys there showed him. The female seemed contented, but 2369 found it not nearly as much fun as what he could do with the other fellows in the dark. It seemed to be important, for the overseers were happy with his performance. He was given a sweet biscuit afterwards- a rare treat which he savored as slowly as he could. 2369 smiled at the memory, but the cart jolted him back to reality.

He watched in wonder. Houses, gardens, buildings grander than any on the farm. What they were- as big as the barns they had used for storage, yet grander- neater- cleaner. They had many windows. Some were decorated in bright colors. He saw many Servae, and then a naga- and another one. Then a group, apparently conversing together as Servae waited on them. He thought excitedly of telling the others about it, until a chill shook him- he would never see them again. His eyes stung, but he bit his lip to stop any kind of sound. Hyshi were not to speak unless spoken to directly, and only in matters concerning their duties.

"No wonder they're only suitable for food," muttered the driver. "He hasn't said a word since we started. They don't understand anything. I bet he doesn't even understand what will happen to him!"

The Clean One nodded. "It would be a waste of time to do anything else with them. My master assured me once that after 18, they tend to lose their flavor... not that I'd want to know what he meant by that!" They laughed. 2369 was no more sentient to them than the boxes of nails or the two sacks of wheat with him in the cart.

2369 had been a quick child, and a more competent team of overseers might have realized that and sent him to be tested for use as a Servae, but he was small for his age and overseers were harried enough as it was. The Chief Overseer was a naga who rarely left his office at the end of the farm. A curious Hyshi was a contradiction- there was really only one thing they needed to know, and that was drilled into them early and often. By seven he had learned to keep his mouth shut. By ten he was bursting with information he had gleaned: He knew the tattoos as numbers; He realized other symbols stood for words or sounds of words. He was close to being able to read some of the signs on the buildings and the white squares that the Servae studied. But he could do nothing with this knowledge. The other Hyshi were not interested. The Servae would punish him if he spoke to them unbidden on anything not related to his assigned tasks. He had heard of Shauhy but had never seen one, he was sure. It would be a grievous offense to even look at one. In barracks chat, several Hyshi claimed to have seen one, and they were grand and beautiful as the Hyshi were rough and plain. "'Even better than the Clean Servae there," he thought. And a naga- a glorious, lordly naga- those creatures were rarely seen by most Hyshi- until needed, that is. "Like me," he thought, and shivered.

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