There was a stillness in the air of the manor, a quiet that was almost overwhelming. Tiefle could not remember a time when she was surrounded by so much silence. At the Academy, there was always noise; the lessons from instructors, the bustle of the kitchens, the flurry of movement in classes, or even the breath of a hundred others asleep in the barrack longhouses. In contrast, the manor was still and silent, an unusual absence of activity that came with the unfamiliar solitude. Not even the house itself hummed with any kind of noise. The floors were made too precisely to creak, and even the atmospheric systems managed the house's cool interior without so much as a whisper from the invisible vents. In the overbearing silence, Tiefle's own breaths seemed almost deafening.
It seemed like she had been waiting for hours, but Tiefle knew it could not have been more than twenty minutes. Despite the long delay, excitement still radiated through her body, perhaps only compounded by being left in the silence with nothing but her thoughts. Acquisition was every Jejerra's dream, the day they worked for since birth. When she had been led from the Choosing Plaza, it had taken every ounce of her years of training not to beam with happiness and burst into tears of joy. Every Jejerra lived in constant fear during their training of Reclamation, of being unchosen and destined to a life of scientific experimentation or armed service.
Even the most unworthy or behaviorally degenerate Jejerras would spend their lives serving, but it was not the wish of any to be Reclaimed. When the voice of her new Master had confirmed his purchase of her, Tiefle had felt a wave of relief and euphoria rush through her that had nearly crumpled her to the floor. She had barely had the presence of mind to follow him out of the Academy through processing, and by the time they had reached the manor, she had been grateful to be left kneeling alone in the center of the study as it had given her time to quell her spinning emotions. Even still, colors roared over her vision, despite the time she had to center herself.
Unlike humans, Jejerras emotions were evident in their eyes. The color of the iris melted from green to red to cobalt to pink depending on their feelings, and the effect tinged their view of the world in hues of raw emotion. Because of this, wards were trained to control, but not repress their feelings. A Master's commands were not only followed, but embraced. Anyone could follow an order without interest, grey eyed and uninvested. A Jejerra who lit up at their Master's voice, who lived to please and drew joy and purpose in service; that was what made an ideal ward. For Tiefle, the inside of the manor had cascaded non stop from the deep pink of optimistic interest to the light yellow of anxious nervousness to the pastel purple of fearful uncertainty to every thought in between.
The Master who had Acquisitioned her, a broad man named Jerome Kingston, had said little aside from his queries of her training. Tiefle had responded, voice light and quivering compared to his, about her qualifications and schooling. After that, he had led her to a magcar then to here, his salt sprinkled black hair and square jawed build making her feel both small and fragile compared to his imposing presence. He had left her here, awaiting her next instruction, and she was not sure if she wished his return sooner or later.
Her training had prepared her to respond obediently to any request, take initiative when appropriate, or even make herself useful and productive in the absence of specific instruction. However, her new Master had provided her with no other direction other than to kneel and remain, nor had he given any conversation or hint as to what her specific duties were to be. Her training had been the traditional courses for a Jejerra: household duties, culinary preparation, business management, pleasure services, and even protection security skills. Masters procured wards for countless services, and Tiefle was trained for anything from organizing her Master's affairs to providing her body for his guests' desires. None of those possibilities gave her unease, but the mystery of her future accosted her anxious mind with uncertainty.
As Tiefle's thoughts careened down a particularly uncomfortable possibility, the sounds of steps on the rigid wood floor shook her back to reality. Master Kingston strode inside with a tablet in hand, then nodded to her in recognition. Just behind him glided another Jejerra. She was older than Tiefle, probably closer to Master Kingston's own age, though she still stepped with the liquid grace of youth. Like Tiefle, she bore the hallmark features of a Jejerra. They were not far different from humans, but their species most often held sharper features and feline angles to their ears and faces compared to the rounded symmetry of humans. Selective breeding over the generations had provided them with a less sylvan appearance compared to their ancestors, but a Jejerra still had a catlike grace and angled appearance, as well as the soft purr at the edge of the voice from the slight genetic differences in their vocal cords. As the elder woman stepped into the study, Tiefle rose her eyes to meet hers. A flash of emerald curiosity sparked in the woman's eyes, prodding a blush and tinge of crimson mixing with the rushing colors in Tiefle's vision.
"This is Clara," Kingston said, drawing Tiefle's gaze with his commanding tone. He spoke firmly, but not with any gruffness or malice. "She will be orienting you to your quarters and duties."
Clara bowed her head, a motion that Tiefle mirrored from her kneeling position.
Kingston continued to work on the tablet in hand, settling into the chair behind the desk. Clara stepped lithely around Tiefle, raising her head to speak, "I would inspect your new ward, Sir."
Kingston nodded dismissively without looking up, and Clara dipped her head gently in reply. Without hesitation, Tiefle shrugged the simple Academy garment from her shoulders, loosing her auburn curls to dance over her shoulders. Every ward wore simple white tunics for the Choosing. Each was backless, revealing the string of tattoos that ran from the base of the skull down their back. The markings were always a sequence of elegant, geometric shapes, all representing various qualifications gained during their upbringing. Clara stepped slowly around Tiefle who now knelt naked in the middle of the study. Under the seasoned scrutiny, Tiefle sat as straight as possible, presenting herself proudly. Clara looked her over throughly, even drew Tiefle's chin up to tilt her head left and right as if to inspect her jawline.
While she did, the younger girl noticed the tattoos that adorned Clara as well. The woman wore a sleek, backless white dress, baring her markings like any other Jejerra. However, the tattoo extended far below the opening of the outfit, and Tiefle could see the patterns continue down the back of her legs and down her arms. Her eyes opened in awe as she saw the symbols for high tier mathematics, specialized culinary skills, artistic Shibari, advanced tai chi, biological chemistry, and dozens she could not even recognize. Some of the non-human instructors at the Academy had been emblazoned with extensive tattoos, but Tiefle had never seen someone so experienced in such a variety of subjects.
Clara seemed to notice Tiefle's gaze, but did not respond to it outside of an amused smirk. Nodding approvingly, she turned on her heel toward Master Kingston and smiled, "She is an excellent choice, Sir."
He nodded, then looked up from his tablet. Still kneeling naked on the floor, Tiefle made sure to keep her posture pristine for his inspection as well. Master Kingston leaned forward on his desk, "You may cloth yourself, Tiefle."
"As you wish, Sir," She said, mirroring the honorific Clara had used as she pulled the simple covering back on. Kingston and Clara shared a quick glance, and Tiefle immediately wondered if she had already made a mistake, a shimmer of trepidation coloring her vision.
He cleared his throat, "You may refer to me as 'Master Kingston', or 'Master' as I am the head of the household." He seemed to see the dismay in her eyes at the misstep, and he held up a hand with a slight smile, easing her tension before continuing, "Clara refers to me as 'Sir' because she is specifically under my direction."
Tiefle took a moment to understand the implication, unable to hide the twinge of confusion that created her brow.
Kingston noticed, "You have a question?"
"Yes, Master Kingston," she replied, transitioning to the new title for him.
"Go ahead," he replied, "and from here on, feel free to ask any question at any time, so long as the timing and context is appropriate."
"Thank you Master Kingston," Tiefle said, then paused as she thought about how to word her curiosity respectively. After taking a breath, she finally responded, "If I am not to serve you, may I ask what my duties will be?" After a short breath, she quickly added, "so I may be of service to the best of my ability, Master."
He seemed to suddenly grow uneasy, glancing to Clara for help. The motion was small and it instantaneously vanished, but Tiefle's keen eyes caught it. The look was so unlike the image he had presented thus far, the uncharacteristic unease coming from a personality that she could only think to compare to the immovable steadfastness of the Manor around them.
Clara spoke, her smooth tone almost enough to cover the moment of awkwardness if not for the fact that it was a Jejerra effectively speaking out of turn, unprompted, "You will serve the young Master Leomund."
Master Kingston cleared his throat and nodded, "My son. You will be his first ward."
Tiefle was taken aback that Clara had spoken so presumptuously, but he had seemed to appreciate the comment, so Tiefle shook it from her mind. She smiled and dipped her head in thanks, "as you wish, Master."
Steps sounded behind her in the hallway, and the other two turned to look at the new arrival. Master Kingston rose and gestured, "Ah, speaking of which. This is he. Leomund, meet your new ward, Tiefle." With a practiced ease, she twisted around on her knees, dipping her head in introductory presentation before lifting her eyes to see her new owner.
Suddenly, the colors dancing around her vision solidified into crisp clarity. When Master Kingston had told her that she would be his son's first ward, Tiefle had imagined caring for a small child. Instead, a rather crisply dressed young man came into the room. Like his father, he held himself in a way that radiated authority. However, much of the similarity seemed to end there. Leomund was lean and tall, the fitted suit accenting his body well. Instead of a jacket, he only wore a vest over a well pressed dress shirt. His eyes were slate grey that seemed pale compared to his deep black hair trimmed into short waves that framed his serious face.
He was incredibly handsome, and Tiefle's mind roared with possibility in his presence. All the uncertainty and mystery vanished at the sight of him. This would be her Master. She would serve and love and protect and devote herself to him. No longer did she wonder about her future, because he was standing before her in the flesh. Her emotions still roared at the edges of her mind, but her vision of him remained crisp and vibrant, as if his very presence was an anchor. Master Kingston held himself with a tremendous amount of authority, but Tiefle fell headlong into the fantasy of actually serving Leomund, of being the first he owned. The possibilities filled her with euphoria.
Tiefle smiled, "It is a pleasure and honor to meet you, Sir. I hope I may serve you well."
