When we were young, we lacked a solid understanding of the concept of a fallen, sinful world and what it meant that one day everything would be set right.I wasn't entirely convinced at the time that anything was wrong with the outside world.When we had put our products on the market in the fall of each year, I had observed that the wider world appeared to be quite exciting in comparison to our modest hilltop home.We were looked down upon by those around us because our parents stuck to the old ways.

The Zoarinian Empire, with its numerous great cities by the sea, was the world's dominant culture as we knew it.They lived their lives quite differently from my parents'.Surely so many people couldn't have done so badly in life to be deserving of their parents' ridicule?My parents' old ways may have been abandoned by the Zoarinians for a good reason.

At that point, I had begun to consider the possibility that my parents weren't the ones who required change.As I thought back on that time in my life, I realized how foolish I had been at the time.

The Zoarinian culture was portrayed as a free society where people could do whatever they wanted as long as the ruling elite gave their okay. They rarely stopped people from expressing themselves in any way they wanted as long as it didn't stop them from making a profit.Excesses were encouraged, and the traditional values of honor and self-control were discarded as meaningless, outmoded virtues that should no longer apply to life.Because there was something about this new, self-described destiny of life that everyone could appreciate, there were few voices opposing it.In point of fact, the only dissidents I was aware of were my parents, and it had drawn unwanted attention to them as well as to my brother and I. I resented it the most when, as a result of the beliefs held by my parents, I was pressured by people my age to uphold those same beliefs.Although I wasn't sure if I held those beliefs, I had to defend them out of loyalty to my parents.

My father's refusal to visit a temple priestess who requested his presence in her private chambers at the city temple after she had observed him while out walking in the marketplace during the harvest festival appeared to be the beginning of the real trouble.Few would turn down a sensual evening with a beautiful temple priestess behind closed doors, so such a refusal was unheard of.Refusing an offer from a priestess was considered an insult because priestesses rarely made advances on commoners.Even though it was antiquated to be devoted to only one person, the relationship my father had with my mother had always been respected by me.Father had made the right choice by declining the priestess's offer, but it had come at a high price.

They came after us one sunny summer morning.When I saw my father walk across the barn lot toward me and stumble and gasp as four brightly colored arrow shafts slammed hard into his chest with dull, final thuds, I was just about done with my morning chores.I dropped the bucket of water I had been carrying from the well, terrified by what I had just seen, and ran toward my father. However, he had violently waved me off with one arm.

From opposite sides of the barnyard, a number of mounted Zoarinian lancers began to approach my father.I had been yelled at by my father, who was still standing up.

Jasper, "Save your mother and brother!"

In a dazed realization, I had sensed the weight of the responsibility he had just conveyed to me, as if it were a crushing burden I was unfit to manage. My eyes had briefly locked with his.In that moment, I felt like I knew my father in a deeper and more powerful way than I had ever known him before, even though I had never been particularly close to him.

I had watched as he boldly turned to face the approaching lancers while frozen in place.When he reminded me of my responsibility to safeguard the family, I suddenly awoke from my frozen state.With everything I had, I would have fled to the house.I watched what happened to my father as I ran;I had to run past him to get to the house, so I had no choice.

I had observed as he snatched a lowered lance from the hands of its mounted rider while standing there, tall and proud.He had balanced the lance over his hand and thrown it at the next rider like a spear. I saw it impale the rider in the middle and send him backwards off his horse.With his lance, a third lancer impaled my father through the back from behind his blind side.I had run even faster for the house, determined to save my mother and brother, tears streaming from my eyes as I turned away from my father.

My mother had already left the house and was at the stable helping my brother climb onto one of the two horses there when she left.After that, she came up behind him and propelled the horse forward.As she fought to save her youngest son, my mother had been a strong woman but her face was covered in tears.She wouldn't have left if her father hadn't died, so she must have known.

Jasper, quicken your ascent!

Before she vanished in a cloud of dust, she had screamed at me and pointed to the second horse.I had jumped the corral's rail fence and jumped onto the second horse's back.I had brutally kneed the horse forward while wheeling it around in order to catch up to her.When I saw a group of riders coming out of a low creek bed to our left after several minutes of rapid riding, I had narrowed the distance between us.

Their sudden appearance ahead of us posed a threat to prevent us from escaping.Just before my father passed away, I recalled what I had seen in his eyes.I wouldn't let him down because he had given me the duty of guarding the family.I firmly clenched my jaw;I steered my horse away from my mother's and toward the group of riders who were rapidly gaining on us in an effort to cut us off, not entirely convinced I was doing the right thing.I heard my mom yell, "No!"in a voice of agony, but she didn't stop.She was unable to stop;She was obligated to protect my brother, and she knew in her heart that this was the only way to have a chance of saving his life.When my horse slammed head-on into the group of riders, I briefly pondered whether or not I would ever see them again.I had faintly felt myself break free from the horse and hit the ground hard after the chaos had started.

After slowly rising to my feet, I discovered that I was tethered to a horse being led by one of the Zoarinian soldiers.The rider to my left had backhanded me across the face when he saw I was awake, and the rider to my right had backhanded me across the face as well as flung my head to the right.The antics of their companions had made all of the soldiers laugh out loud.

If I hadn't been hurting before, I was now; my neck felt broken.

I was surprised when we rode into the city of Capeacal because the days of riding and being abused by my captors seemed to flow together.I had never been so far south before at that time.

The market place in Capeacal was unlike anything I had ever seen before.It was a lot bigger than Cassis's market.While Cassis's market sold a variety of household goods and fruits and vegetables, Capeacal's market primarily dealt in slaves, which were more expensive.

Under the floor of the market, I was pushed into a smelly, dim room.After a brief moment of silence, I heard the sounds of many captives beginning to resume in the room's cramped quarters, and at first I thought I was alone.I had moved to the side of the door and leaned back against the slimy, wet wall to hide from the people who were in the cell and the ones who had put me there, but such places offered little safety.

I was unable to ignore a gloomy image of the future that had begun to form within my mind and had overwhelmed me with its depressing vision of the path that lay in front of me.I had been ignoring the hushed conversations that were taking place all around me because I was so caught up in my own misery.

I was completely unfamiliar with the dialect, which sounded foreign to me.After listening to it for some time, I realized that I had heard it before.The Imerickian Traders of the Tranquil Islands spoke it in a particular dialect.When I was with my father trading in the city of Sharpe, which we did occasionally, I had heard them speak a few times.On the western side of the Southern Settlements, Sharpe was a seaport town.Because they did not get along well with the Zoarinians, the Tranquil Islanders, like the Valley Landers to the northeast, preferred to trade further south than Sharpe.

I'd overheard a conversation that I could understand because it was in my own language among the sea of foreign voices.

"Krista, pay attention to what I'm saying.Tomorrow we will separate from me.

"No, Mother!"

"Agreed, Krista!You must promise to do as I say, because it will happen!Although you are still young, you already know that one day you will be beautiful.Tomorrow, you must make the most of your beauty and carry yourself with pride!Tomorrow, they will put you in a special class if you keep yourself as clean as possible.