Queen Leah and Buffy (commission with story)

Buffy stood terrified upon the brownstone block, five-three, naked as the day she was born save for a silver steel collar around her neck, and matching shackles around her ankles. Her arms were bound by a chain on a leash, gripped by the hands of the taller female slave merchant who had captured her, standing with an imperious smirk on her face at what a fine prize the Slayer would make as a simple household slave to be auctioned off.

Around the women, stood a mixture of men and women of virtually all ethnicities. Each looked wealthy and bore either a look of indifference or barely concealed hunger to the young woman’s suffering in the market centre.

How did I end up here, Buffy thought frantically. What is this place? Why do all these people look like slaver’s from some Ancient Arab society? Why can’t I break these chains? How do I get outta here!?!?

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” called the powerful, booming voice of the slave trader handling Buffy’s chains.

“I present to you our latest prize from our last trip to the West. From San Francisco, California, this tiny blonde caucasian woman might not look like much, but in her world she is known as ‘The Slayer’, the latest in a long line of female warriors tasked with fighting demons of the underworld. As such, she has the strength of ten men, if not much greater!”

The crowd muttered amongst themselves, enthusiastically, some began weighing up their coin purses. Buffy felt herself fall deeper into despair, as she realised there was no way for her to fight her way out of this.

“As such, she is a product of great value. Ideal for carrying your luggage, DIY, and for any heavy lifting you could possibly think of putting her to use for. Our starting bid today is one thousand gold coins, and I assure you she’s worth at least that much for all her skills ready for serving you. Do we have any bidders?”

There wasn’t a hand that didn’t shoot up at that. The whole market was stocked full of slavers, eyes locked on Buffy with lust and sadistic glee all over their faces. The young blonde woman would have quaked in her proverbial boots. She was utterly at the mercy of a slaver and her mob of would-be owners. All Buffy could do was bow her head, and fight back the tears, as the bidding grew higher.

Help me, please. I don’t know how I was kidnapped so easily or on God’s earth I am right now, but please, Lord, save me! I’m begging you, please, I’m-

Relax, young child came a sudden voice that seemed to come from inside Buffy’s head. Jolting her gaze up to look around, she saw that the onlookers who were still bidding had downsized to just below half the total in attendance.

There’s no need to be afraid, Slayer, sounded the voice once more, and its next words had a considerable calming effect on Buffy. I will save you from these Slavers. Just wait for the moment, for I am on my way, and I promise to free you.

Buffy did not know what it was about this voice she’d heard, or even if it was truly real or just some figment of her imagination. Yet it stoked the fire of courage deep down in her once more, and she exhaled all of her fears in a deep calming breath.

“I have four thousand gold coins”, bellowed the slaver, excitement seeping into her tone, as she imagined herself weighing up the gold of these wealthy merchants before her.
“Who else is prepared to go higher? Do I have four thousand one hundred?” Several hands feel at that, leaving only two men and six women left to bid, and each one was looking anxious to maintain their lead.

I have four thousand one hundred! Do I have four thousand two hundred? I see I do! Do I have four thousand five hundred?”
The sudden couple of hundred increase compelled both men to lower their hands, one young cocky looking one looking extremely wounded by the fact he couldn’t afford to go higher. The women each eyed one another up, looking catty and fierce towards the other as if a silent dare had been ushered to outbid the rest.

“Four thousand, five hundred gold coins! This is turning out to be an extremely competitive day, ladies, and may I say you have exquisite taste!” the slaver emphasised the point pinching Buffy’s behind, eliciting a cry of pain and surprise to the spot, which had just been grabbed.

“Now, who here is prepared to go as high as five thousand gold coins?” With that, four of the women reluctantly lowered their hands, but two of them managed to keep them up.

“Five thousand gold coins!” the Slaver yelled triumphantly. “This is a truly worthy purchase, and we are down to our final two bidders!” Buffy felt her legs steady to not fall over.
I don’t know where you are, a voice in my head, but if you’re truly real, please assure me that you’re close; Buffy mentally voiced her concerns hoping to see some sign that she hadn’t allowed her mind to play tricks on her.

I am on my way, Slayer, came to the voice again, and Buffy’s heart leapt in her chest. I will make my presence known very shortly.

“Five thousand, five hundred gold coins!” the words of the Slaver penetrated Buffy’s eardrums as she saw the bidding go higher and higher.
“I am certain that we’re getting close to the end now, but who is prepared to pay the price of six thousand gold coins for this fine, healthy, young slave woman?”

With that, one of the two remaining bidders, an olive-skinned woman with greying dark hair and looked to be in her mid-fifties, lowered her hand ever so reluctantly. Her competitor, who looked to be in her mid-thirties with tanned, Indonesian features, raised a clenched fist up into the air as if she’d won a deciding battle in a long-drawn-out war.”

“And with that, we have a winner! For the price of six thousand coins, the lady to my left in the claret coloured robes has just purchased our latest prize!”

With that, the woman began to walk up the block, hand reaching into her robes; she produced a  heavy sack of what could only contain the gold coins she’d been bidding. As she stretched out her hand holding the bag to the Slave Merchant’s own, Buffy felt a distinct rustle of the wind, and then as if by magic, the Slaver and her customer froze. Uncertain if she was truly seeing what was before her, Buffy found the courage to step, albeit hesitantly, forward, peering over to see the Slave Merchant’s face, gleaming with apparent joy at the sack of gold, mere inches from her outstretched right palm.

“What’s going on?” Buffy asked aloud, turning her head frantically around to see that the entire area that she was in seemed to have frozen around her.

Fear not, my Warrior Princess, came the sound of the voice again, and Buffy felt that calmness envelop her once more. As promised, I have come to save you from these Slavers.
Buffy stood, gazing ahead towards the entrance of the Town Plaza. There, walking towards her, was a tall figure, face hidden in the shadows, female she could scarcely tell from how they carried themselves. Squinting a little, the Slayer leaned forward to see who this mysterious woman was.
As they stepped out of the shadows, Buffy now saw the figure in all of her glory. She was very tall indeed, towering over most men and women in attendance by at least a foot in height. Her skin was dark; her lips full and red, her eyes were a light brown, her body was athletic and statuesque. The envy of all supermodels and athletes. She wore a stunning red dress woven from some fine and exotic material, with gold trim at the bottom, two blue horizontal stripes. She wore dark, heeled leather boots. Her hair was long and dark, tied back in a ponytail which reached halfway down her back; a pair of copper earrings in the shape of a leaf. On top of her head, she wore a crown that looked to be blended from bronze, gold and silver all in one; and a matching necklace.
Before Buffy stood the picture of regal perfection, gazing down at her with calm, knowing eyes.

Was this the one who called out to me?  Buffy thought to herself, and the woman, as if reading her mind,  smiled.

“I am Queen Leah, ruler of Libertina, and I am the one who called out to you.” Buffy stared up at this tall and evidently powerful woman in front of her.

“Who are you?” she asked uncertainly. “Where am I? Why am I here, and-”

“I shall explain everything to you in due time, my dear,” Queen Leah cut Buffy off, raising a hand as if to call for silence. “But for now, I beg of you to listen to me. You were kidnapped by merchants here in the land known as Slaveria, and by the looks of things, you are in no condition to fight, and you look like you won’t be able to get far if we cannot remove those shackles. Unfortunately, they are impossible to move unless by a weapon forged of the same element.”
With that, Queen Leah bent down, placed her hands underneath Buffy’s legs and behind her lower back, and hoisted the girl up off the floor as easy as if she were a rag-doll.

“Whoa, hey-” Buffy began but felt the effects of Leah’s calming gaze silence her.

“This land has been pillaging the world in search of men and women to be forced into indefinite slavery. My homeland, Libertina, was formed by warriors who had escaped their masters, liberated others, and has been at war with Slaveria to free every last slave in existence. That is why I am here for you, Slayer. It has been foretold that a warrior, bound in chains, small in stature, yet great in power, will be our salvation.”

Buffy felt tension rise in her stomach at what this powerful, beautiful Monarch was telling her. Her normally quick wits stunned by the words her liberator spoke.

“I will explain more to you later, my dear,” Queen Leah gave Buffy a reassuring look and tenderly stroked the left side of her rib cage. “Once we are back over the border. But for now, we must make haste before my spell wears off.”

With that, she moved at inhuman speed, holding Buffy tightly and close to her chest as if she were a priceless treasure. Buffy all the while gazed admiringly up at her saviour, a look of awe plastered her face as they sped up through the town, out into lush, open green pastures, over gently rolling hills. The wind sweeping her back as they moved further and further away from the port capital of Slaveriaand all the rotten scum that occupied it.

(story by Garth)