It was another dry desert day in Essyrn. The bazaar was bustling with activity, as many foreign traders from the North had journeyed in through an illustriously large caravan, drawing the attention of all local merchant prince and princesses alike. Ne'friss was no exception. With her business doing well, her wealth ever growing, greedy eyes were kept upon her. She was unwed, well-to-do, an heiress of an massive and ever expanding empire of trade, a trade in which stretched all across the entire country of Essyrni, from the tropical rein forests of the south, to the grass lands bordering the other countries to the North. She even had connections as far north as Connloath, bringing in a wealth of trade across the entire continent. And she knew how to flaunt herself, reveling in the praise and success of her father's business and enjoying every moment in the lime light.
Jealousy was a wicked tool. And those eyes that watched her, kept gold in their hands, passing it on to men in dark places, playing this scenario like a game. They wanted Ne'friss's empire, her wealth, and they were to acquire it by having her killed. Or taken away, whatever worked best. The slave market could have use for her, a virgin of exquisite beauty.. and with her gone and no heir, it meant the men closest at her side, cousins and other merchants that linked and helped hold up her empire, to profit from such a scheme. And being that she was well naive (though not totally stupid) she had no idea of the jealousy from her cousin, a cousin that had been asking to marry her for some time, or the elder merchants that had once been 'close' friends of her father.
So when it happened, it was a shock to them all. Ne'friss's slaves let out a scream, spilling pots when the men in dark robes came in. Ne'friss had just finished bathing for the day, her body artist, Ne'fala, was just putting on the finishing touches to the black scroll work that was laced across her skin, swirling over the base coat of gold paint that kissed her flesh. So when the commotion was going on inside her own room, she turned her head to stare briskly over her shoulder, her brows furrowing irritably while the beads in her hair clattered together before settling over her painted shoulder.
"Ne' fala, go see what the fuss is about! All of that screaming is making me angry," Ne'friss chuffed.
The woman bowed, but when she went to move, she gasped and dropped the black paint jar on the floor, spilling it at her feet. The very motion irritating Ne'friss as she whirled around to give her a slap, only to find her arm being snatched by a man in dark robes. She gasped in alarm and struck out with her other hand, fighting her way free, to her weapons, to her sais, only to get out a few quick cuts to the men before she was surrounded and her world going to black.
At times she would awaken, finding her body bound in ropes, a gag in her mouth, stifling her breath as she'd looked around desperately. She could hear the creaking of wood. How long had she been out? And more importantly, where was she? Sunlight barely made it to her room where she was in the bowels of a large ship, coming in through rotted and splintered openings in the side.
Salt. She could smell the sea, something she had only ever encountered when she was younger on a long journey with her father. The ocean? Was that where she was? Panicked, she struggled against the ropes but it was to no avail, and this had gone on for days, weeks almost- the time passing endlessly. Occasionally a servant would come by, giving her food and water, but never unbinding her and only doing this once a day. Her mind was going, but her pride was still intact, so when she could speak, she was cursing in both Essyrian and Common tongue.
But it was to no avail.
Then one night, the boat was rocking, thunder booming outside. It did little to scare or make her ill, only sought to frustrate her as she couldn't see, couldn't breath... but then the ship lurched suddenly, there was a crack, a smash, and the sounds of the ocean devouring all around them pounding at her ears. It only took a few moments for the ocean wave to smash and tear the ship apart, sending men, women, cargo alike splintering out into the darkness of the raging storm-
and she was wet, her ears deaf to the storm brewing all around. She was drowning. She was going to die, but then she was whisked away, just as her mind began to fade, her body washing up on a beachy shore at the tail end of the storm.
And she lay silent and still, black hair a mess about the white sandy beaches she lay upon. The gag had come loose from around her mouth, the beads still a mess in her hair, beads still hanging around her body, having gathered sea weed and other muck during the storm. And the paint had all but washed away from her naked flesh, the scattered drapery of beads being hte only thing keeping her modest as the morning sun broke out from the storm clouds off in the distance and rained down upon her like silver and gold.
The port of Ainu wasn't too far away, and the Essyrian merchant princess would have no idea she was in the Island Nation of Yoreiq, thousands of miles from her desert home in the south.