“Get out of the way!” my carriage driver shouts and I watch as a man has to dive aside to make sure we don’t trample him. I glance at my father, open my mouth to speak, and then bite my tongue.
I set my hands in my lap and sit with my back straight, like a proper lady. My eyes flit back and forth between my father and the people outside the windows. Part of me hates the injustice I am seeing, a large part of me, but it is just the way the world works. I know that I am supposed to think of them as lesser than us but they are so similar to us in every way. We are more graceful and quicker but I have heard them speak and watched them think; I have seen what they are capable of. Humans.
I should feel the hatred that my father bears but I don’t; I can hardly blame them for what they have done. Haven’t we controlled them? Haven’t we forced them to become our slaves? Their civilization was almost as advanced as ours once, but they don’t tell us that anymore. I remember when it was mandatory to learn about the Humans but not anymore, not since the war.
We won but I wonder what it would have been like if the Humans had won. Would I be a slave now like the people outside my window? I can’t sleep some nights because of the faces that I see during the day. They are afraid of us. I wonder if the Humans would have been as horrible to us. We started the war, that’s something else that we aren’t taught anymore. My father says that the Humans would have done worse if they had beaten us. That makes me sad, but I’m not sure why.
After the Humans were defeated it ushered in a new era for us, the Elves. We traded in a King for an elected parliament. We traded a divided country for a recognized unified state. We traded slaves for “compulsory supporters.” So why was it that nothing seemed to have changed? If anything it had only gotten worse.
“We live in a golden age, my dear,” my father smiles as he stares at the castle rising in the distance. I watch the “free” humans and shake my head, “What is it?”
“Don’t you see the injustice?” I indicate the men living in their own filth. I see a flicker of fear behind my father’s eyes and he seizes my wrist, “Look at them, really look at them.”
“Please, don’t talk like that,” his voice is calm but strained. He looks worried for my safety, “Why can’t you just accept the way life is? It is good for us. Our family has never been so well off.”
“But just imagine what all of these people could do for us.”
“People? They are animals my love, nothing more,” my father pats the top of my hand and looks at me gently. I wonder how he can so amicably defend genocide, “It is better this way.”
“Better for whom?” I whisper and stare at the “animals” trudging outside my window. As we pass through the gate to the inner city I catch the eye of a human boy who couldn’t have been more than ten years old. He reminds me of my own brother. His eyes are cold and hard, they do not belong on a child. I shiver and turn away.

“He’s strong and fit. He can do everything around here!” my father marvels at the man standing in our dining room like he is a pet. He is standing naked before us. He is proud, that’s dangerous for a slave. He has been recently bathed and groomed to meet us. He has beautiful dark skin. The man is tall and lean, much stronger than anyone in my family. I wonder why he doesn’t try to escape. He could easily overpower all of us, “Isn’t he wonderful?!”
“I don’t know,” my mother looks at the person with contempt. Her brother had been killed in the war but it doesn’t make her hatred of all of them acceptable. Maybe it doesn’t make her hatred of any of them acceptable, “What happened to the others?”
“Well we couldn’t well take them with us to the capital?!” My father sounds offended by the idea of bringing along our previous slaves. They are a status symbol to him, if he doesn’t have the best he will be looked lowly upon, “Don’t be daft.”
“Calm down,” I feel a hand on my forearm and notice that my fists are clenched and my nails have been digging into the skin of the palms of my hands, there is blood. My brother looks at me and I trace the tattoos on his face with my eyes. All elves have facial tattoos; they help distinguish social class, “Don’t let him get to you.”
I nod and try to mute my father. The man is looking at my brother and me. I wonder if he knows what I am thinking. I wonder if he knows how much I hate seeing him like this. He has been reduced to a mongrel and yet his eyes say that he is the real master here. I don’t want to see him get hurt but I know he will.
“Do we really need slaves?” I ask, never letting my eyes leave the unmoving face.
“He isn’t a slave!” my father hisses and looks around the room as if some unwanted ears may have heard my improper usage, “He is a compulsory supporter.”
“It’s the same thing,” I shrug and I see a mocking smile break at the edges of the dark-skinned man’s mouth. It fades too quickly to be sure it ever existed.
“Milo, take your sister and leave us,” my father puts his head in his hands and my mother rubs a hand between his shoulder blades. I stand and leave the dining room with my brother, Milo, at my side.
“What did you see Jenna?” my brother knows that I am angrier than normal. We talk about the humans sometimes. I think I’m the only good influence that he has.
“I saw a boy, a little boy like you,” we are in the garden now and Milo is balancing on the edge of our fountain. He is nimble and dances across the stone and it looks like he is walking across the water.
“He wasn’t me though,” Milo hopped down in front of me and crossed his arms.
“But he could have been you. Maybe he is you to someone else,” I think about his family. Did he have a father and a mother? Did he have a sister?
“I don’t get why you like the Humans so much,” Milo kicks a stone across the pavement and we walk on. I try to make him understand but sometimes he doesn’t get it. He has been indoctrinated his entire life. I am slowly undoing the damage.
“I don’t like them, I respect them,” I reply and Milo shrugs as if the difference is inconsequential, “They deserve a shot at being great don’t they? They do all the work and we reap all the rewards.”
“Dad says they lost that right a long time ago,” Milo looks at me and I wonder if he actually thinks the Humans did something unforgiveable to start the war. As far as I can tell wars don’t ever have any good reason, “He says they had their chance.”
“Yeah, well who is he to condemn them?” I sit at a bench and let my shoulders sag a little.
“He’s our dad; that counts for something doesn’t it?” Milo thinks that my father is a hero; he really looks up to him. My father has done some good things but he isn’t always right.
“You’ve seen them though, you know better,” I grab Milo’s arm and make him look at me, “What can you see that’s so different between us? We have fairer skin, we have lighter hair, we have pointed ears, we have angular features. How much is that really?”
“I guess not much,” Milo concedes and sits down next to me, letting his legs swing back and forth, “But we’re faster and stronger. We’re more agile.”
“Do you feel stronger than that Human in there?” I ask and Milo shakes his head, “Maybe what they say about us isn’t really true.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know, what can I do?

Our new slave’s name is Johnathan. That’s funny, the last male slave had been named Johnathan and the other one was named Smith. My father assigned him to protect me. I wonder how eager he will be to help me if I get in danger.
We are on the wall that divides the inner city, the elves, from the outer city, the Humans. Even the lowest elf is still higher than the highest Human. I stare at the Humans who have been allowed their freedom. They are enclosed inside another wall and I know that it is just a prison that the parliament calls freedom.
“What is your name?” I ask my guardian and he just stands looking at me with his arms crossed over his chest. His arms are like trunks of muscle and I wonder who he was a slave for before he came to the capital, “Your real name.”
We sit in silence for a while before I decide that he will not answer me. “Can you speak our language?” I ask and I receive no response, “I bet you’re this talkative with everyone.”
I ignore my bodyguard and turn back to the Humans. “What are you looking for?” his voice startles me. It is deep and smooth and oddly comforting. I didn’t expect him to sound so…civilized, “Or are you just watching for pleasure?”
“I don’t enjoy this!” I am offended and I know that he meant to offend me. I am standing in front of him now and glaring at him. The mocking smile returns to his face and it makes me angrier.
“Then why do you watch?” the man asks. I refuse to call him Johnathan so I won’t call him anything until he tells me his real name, “Why don’t you do something about it?”
“I don’t know, what can I do?”

My father beats our new slave for the first time. I watch because I can’t turn away. I can feel myself screaming but there is no sound coming from my mouth. I stare in horror as the whip lashes across the Human’s back. There is fury in his eyes but he does not fight back. He takes each lash without crying out in pain.
“What did you do?” I ask later when I am cleaning his wounds. They are deeper than I thought a whip could cut. There is so much blood I’m not sure that I’m doing him any good. The torn skin is disgusting and horrifying. He will be scarred forever. I hate my father.
“Why do you assume I did anything?” our slave has a steady even voice, but I can tell that he is concentrating on making each word precise. It takes all of his effort to sound okay but I know that he is not okay, “Does a torturer need a reason to hurt his prisoner?”
“My father wouldn’t…,” I begin but I know that it is not true; I know what my father thinks of this man. I wonder how he can sleep. There is a reason though; it just probably isn’t a very good one, “I am sorry.”
“What is your name?”
“Jenna,” I think that maybe he will tell me his name if I tell him mine.
“That’s short for something,” it is a statement, not a question.
“Jenyli,” I reply. It is a very elfin name. I don’t know if I like it but it is the name I was given, “Will you tell me yours?”
“I wish I could Jenyli,” the man sighs as if the pain of having no name is worse than the wounds on his back, “I have been Johnathan or Smith or Jones for as long as I can remember. I like to think it was something heroic like Gabriel but I really don’t know.”
“Okay, I will call you Gabriel then.”
“Your father won’t like it.”
“Let him complain.”

There is an elf sitting on my doorstep when Gabriel and I come home from the market. He is wearing armor like the guards and he is sitting with his head down toward the ground. A million possibilities run through my head at once. I wonder why he is here.
“Do you live here?” the guard asks when he sees us approaching, “Are you Jenyli?” I nod and he stands. The elf wipes his hands on his breeches and looks at me. He is avoiding my eyes, “There has been an incident. Earlier today there was a Human that came from outside the wall. He was attacked by some elves. Your brother Milorius tried to stop them, he was the only one. He was so small and I don’t know if they couldn’t see him, or if they just didn’t care. He was beaten along with the man. I’m sorry but neither of them survived.”
I stare at the guard for a long time. He waits, trying to decide whether he should remain or whether he should leave. I don’t know what to do. I look at Gabriel and I see the concern in his eyes and I lose it. Tears stream down my face and I fall to the pavement.
I think of the boy who was dancing on the fountain. I think of his smiling face and I cry and I can’t stop myself. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like he’s dead. I’ll wake up tomorrow and he will be there, just the same as before. I miss him already.
Gabriel gathers me in his arms and carries me to my room. He sets me on my bed and turns to leave. “He was a good kid,” Gabriel says softly and closes the door behind him.
I grab fistfuls of anything I can find and I throw it. In blind rage I turn my room upside down and the tears do not stop falling. Milo is gone. Milo is gone. Milo is gone. I can’t get him out of my head. I keep whispering don’t go but I don’t know who I’m talking to.
I am standing at the balcony when someone finally comes to talk to me. It is my father. He doesn’t say anything about my room. I don’t know how much everything cost that I destroyed, I don’t really care.
My father puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to him. I bury my face in his shoulder and sob. I wrap my arms around his back as I struggle to breathe and he strokes my hair. We don’t say anything, there’s nothing to say.

“I’m getting you out,” I say to Gabriel out of the blue one morning, “You don’t deserve to be locked up here. Do you have anywhere you can go?”
“No,” I can’t decide if he’s answering my question or telling me not to try to get him out, “I don’t know anything but being a slave, don’t worry about me. It’s not that bad here.”
“My brother died trying to defend a Human. That can’t happen anymore. You deserve to live Gabriel,” I say as we walk through the market again.
“You shouldn’t say things like that, you never know who might be listening,” I spin in the direction of his voice and I know who it is immediately. The lines on his face show that he is a member of the elfin parliament. My heart races up my throat and Gabriel takes a step toward the official. He raises his hands defensively, “I don’t mean any harm, but you must be more careful. You have friends but you have many more adversaries.”
“Are you a friend?” I ask and the Member of Parliament smiles in response.
“Let me show you,” he replies and turns on his heels. He is now walking away from us and I look at Gabriel.
“It’s alright Jenna, you don’t have to do this for me,” Gabriel shakes his head. I think of Milo and the starving human boy and the dead human man my brother had defended. I wasn’t doing this for him. I was doing this because it was right. I was doing it for all of them, “It could be a trap.”
“I’m going,” I shrug and run after the elf. Gabriel shakes his head and follows me.
“My name is Elythiel,” the Member of Parliament says when we fall in behind him, “I noticed you a long time ago Jenyli, that’s dangerous. If you want to be a Liberator you will need to be more cautious.”
“A Liberator, what’s that?” I ask as the three of us stand outside of a small building in one of the poorer elf districts. Elythiel smiles and pushes the door open. There are almost a hundred elves packed into the tiny space. They fall quiet when the door opens.
“We are the Liberators,” Elythiel answers as he walks through the crowd, shaking every hand and calling each member by their name, “We are the elves that don’t believe the humans should be slaves. We are the elves that do something about it.”
“You can get Gabriel out?” I ask.
“We can try,” Elythiel responds, “but we’ll need your help.”

It is midnight when I wake Gabriel. I haven’t slept at all but he has been asleep for hours. “Are you sure about this?” are the first words to leave his mouth and I nod.
“There’s a carriage waiting outside the gates to take you to an enclave. You’ll be safe there, you can make a new life there,” I smile and Gabriel sighs. I thought he would be excited to leave, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Gabriel replies and I realize that he cares about me. I am the only friend that he has. He may be going somewhere new and free but he is leaving everything he knows, “Not on my behalf.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say as I grab ahold of his hand, “Now let’s get out of here.”
I put on my cloak over my shoulders and glance down the street. A horse-drawn carriage stops outside of my house and I open the door for Gabriel. Inside the carriage are two benches, like most, but I lift up the seat of one bench and it reveals a hidden compartment for Gabriel to hide in.
“I’m going to miss you,” Our former slave looks at me and I stare back. He pulls me into a hug and he is warm and strong, he feels like an elf. I realize that I will miss him too.
“Good luck,” I say and then I pull him back into an embrace and add, “My friend.”
He looks away from me and I wonder if he is crying. Then he gets into the hiding place. It’s a tight fit but eventually I’m able to close the lid over him. I am only taking him as far as the outer city. The other Liberators will take over from there.
I feel every bump on the path as we speed toward the gates. There are guards who look bored watching us approach. “Hold up,” one of the elves says and opens the door to my carriage. He sees my face and jumps, “I’m sorry milady, I didn’t realize…”
“There is nothing to be sorry about, keep up the good work,” I smile and the guard nods. He jumps down and closes the door behind him.
“Let her through!” I hear the elf yell and the doors part for us. The horses storm through and then come to a stop about halfway through the outer city. There is a small shack on the edge of the road. I am leaving Gabriel here.
I open the door and let Gabriel out. We enter the shack and Elythiel is waiting for us. He looks tired, like he has done this too many nights in a row. “Thank you Jenyli,” Elythiel places a hand on my shoulder, “We can take it from here. Say good-bye. If you ever see Gabriel again he will be a free man.”
“You could come with me,” Gabriel tries and he looks at Elythiel for support. Elythiel shrugs as if it doesn’t matter one way or the other.
I think about it for a minute. I could escape from this place. I could go somewhere Humans and elves could live together peacefully. I wouldn’t have to see people like Milo die just for trying to do what’s right. Then I think of the starving boy and shake my head, “I can’t, I have work to do here. I am a Liberator now and I can do so much good from here.”
“I knew you would say that,” Gabriel sighs and he kisses me on the forehead. I watch him curiously. No one has ever kissed me before. I have never understood it before but now I do. I stand on the tips of my toes and kiss him on the cheek. He smiles, “Good-bye Liberator.”
“Good-bye Gabriel.”

I stare out the window on the way back to the inner city. I don’t know what I’m searching for until I see him. The little boy is watching my carriage fly past and our eyes meet. His are still cold and hard. I wave to him. He waves back.