I finish plowing the farmer's field in silence, grateful not to have Bahamut's voice in my ear the entire time.

My chest has a raw, blistered outline of the straps when I remove them. My muscles are sore. It feels like I've put in a full day of work and then some. I drink heavily from the trough, then wash my face and drizzle some cool water on my chest.

"You're as strong as a Sand Yeti," the farmer says, walking up to me and wiping his brow. "I wouldn't need my other two slaves if I had you around, much less a replacement for the one I lost. I didn't even have to crack my whip."

"I wanted to earn my keep," I reply. "A hot meal and hopefully a spot in your barn to sleep tonight."

"Aye, you earned both." The farmer nods. "You saved my ass, so I'll even let you take my youngest girl-slave to bed with you tonight. I rarely share her with anyone."

I try to say it won't be necessary, but my tongue gets tangled up like it did the first time he mentioned sharing one of his slaves with me. The farmer's expression darkens like he's offended by my lack of response, so I force a nod.

"T-thank you," I mutter as soon as my tongue relaxes.

"Come on inside." The farmer motions to me. "Supper should be waiting for us."

I follow the farmer into his house. It's a simple structure, but clean and tidy. There are two women inside. They're dressed in white linen robes that are almost see-through, and unlike the slaves in the field, they haven't been blinded. One of the women is a brunette with brown eyes, about ten years younger than me, and the other is a gorgeous young blue-eyed blonde who appears to be in her late teens or early twenties. I've never been great at guessing age, and I'm not entirely certain people on Elenos age like people from my world. My destined bride was a little girl the first time I saw her and an old woman when I returned.

"Melanie!" the farmer barks. "Come over here and present yourself to my guest. You will be spending the evening with him."

The younger girl nods to the farmer and walks over to me. She looks up with a smile on her face and begins removing her robe.

"Oh, whoa, what are you doing?" I chuckle nervously, looking away.

"I'm presenting myself to you," she says, letting the robe fall to the ground. "You're my master for the evening."

"She good enough for you, or would you rather have the older one?" the farmer grunts, motioning to the brunette. "Abby, come present yourself to our guest."

The brunette walks closer and I shake my head.

"Melanie will do," I say politely before Abby can undress. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The farmer smiles and nods, then he walks over and slaps Melanie's ass. The girl's smile falters and she winces, but she doesn't say anything.

"Put your robe back on and bring supper to the table," the farmer says. "He needs a hot meal in his belly before he puts a baby in yours."

"Yes, master," Melanie says, grabbing her robe from the floor and putting it on.

I cough awkwardly and flash the farmer a perplexed look. "A baby? That's a little presumptuous, my friend."

"Nah, Melanie is in her prime breeding years," the farmer replies. "I was going to breed her with one of the slaves from Carter's place up the road, but you'll do just fine. I bet you were a beast of a baby when you were born, judging by how big you are now."

"I, uh, no—not really. I hit a growth spurt later." I look away, hoping it sounds believable.

"Either way, a strong baby will sell for a good price," he chuckles. "Let's eat."

I'm too hungry to argue, especially after plowing his field. The thought of spending the night with Melanie and leaving her pregnant with my child doesn't sit well with me, but I have to carefully navigate things here. Elenos will be my home for the foreseeable future, and I need to learn their ways if I'm going to survive. I may have threatened to take my own life to kill Bahamut once and for all, but I'm in no hurry to die.

Melanie and Abby serve our food once we're seated at the table. I haven't eaten in months. The sight of cooked meat, fresh bread, and steaming vegetables makes my mouth water in anticipation. I'm not sure what the meat is, but it tastes similar to beef with a tang I can't place. I decide not to question it. Sometimes it's better not to know what you're putting in your mouth, especially when you're starving, and there are no other options.

"We'll play a game before bed," the farm announces, wiping his mouth with a cloth. "Abby, go get the cards. Melanie, bring us some wine."

"Right away, master," the slaves reply, almost in unison, then they hurry to their tasks.

Abby brings what appears to be a deck of cards. They're old, faded, and worn. The farmer starts shuffling them and sends six face-down cards my way before dealing himself seven. Melanie brings a decanter of wine and pours two glasses. It's a rather strong drink—I'm not sure we would call it wine where I'm from. It tastes more like a flavored liquor. I'd prefer whiskey, but I'm not going to question a free drink, especially since I haven't had any alcohol since Bahamut took me prisoner.

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"Standard rules," he says, motioning to me. "Flip your first card. Since you don't have any coin, we'll be playing for fun tonight."

"Alright," I say, not wanting to question the rules since this seems like I game I should be familiar with. I move my finger across the cards, then choose the third one and flip it over. It's painted with a crude picture of a man in armor, holding a sword.

"The Soldier, damn," the farmer mutters, looking at his cards. "Let's see…"

The farmer seems to ponder his choices carefully before finally settling on one of his cards. He flips it over and reveals a crude portrait of some kind of green-skinned creature.

"Fuck, The Soldier beats The Goblin." He moves his goblin card to the side. "One point for you."

I smile and nod, pretending to be pleased with the outcome. It's my turn, so I flip another card, which the farmer identifies as The King. He's defeated by a The Traitor, which evens the score. That seems to be the gist of the game. It's a game of chance with no real strategy. We flip cards until we're tied and we each have six cards showing or moved to the side.

"Alright, dealer gets the tie-breaker," the farmer says, flipping his seventh card. "Damn, another goblin. You win."

I'm not entirely sure why his seventh card caused me to win, since I didn't have one to line up with it, but I don't question the result. The farmer gathers the cards and slides the deck to me. I shuffle it and deal the cards like he did. This time, my cards are all losers, and the farmer wins after flipping four that beat mine.

"One more to break the tie, then we should get some rest," the farmer says, reaching for his wine and sipping it.

I nod in agreement and flip my first card, then my eyes get wide. It's a picture of a girl with green-eyes and a bird drawn on her head.

"Damn, The Raven-Marked Maiden," the farmer chuckles, then motions to the deck. "Easy point for you if The Hero is still in there."

The farmer is waiting for me to do something. I assume I need to search the deck, since he motioned to it, so I pick up the cards. I turn them over and thumb through them until I reveal a card that looks similar to—me. My avatar form, at least.

"One point for you," the farmer says. He doesn't seem to notice the resemblance. "My turn."

The farmer flips his next card, so we continue with the game. I want to know more about these cards now, but I'm worried about asking too many questions.

"The Raven-Marked Maiden and The Hero," I say. "That's a prophecy, right?"

"An old heathen one, yeah," the farmer replies. "You believe in prophecies?"

"I don't know." I shrug, not wanting to giving away too much. "Do you?"

"No," the farmer chuckles. "They're just old stories. Besides, if The Hero was really going to show up like the prophecy said, it would have been before King Malakai won the Eternal War. If anyone's a hero, it's him. Better to follow a man who gets shit done than a fairy tale. The heathens may disagree, but that's why they're slaves, right?"

"I suppose so," I answer, forcing a smile and drinking more of my wine.

"Alright, enough cards for tonight." The farm stands up and stretches his arms. "Abby, is the bed ready?"

"Yes, master!" Abby calls out from another room.

"Enjoy your evening with Melanie," the farmer says, flashing me a wink. "Make sure you leave us with something to remember you by when you go."

I assume he means a baby, which I have no intention of creating, but I can't say that to the farmer's face. He's treated me with kindness and fairness, which I'm grateful for. I lean back in my chair and down the rest of my wine. The farm disappears into what I assume is his bedroom, and closes the door.

"Are you ready, master?" Melanie asks, walking up behind me and putting her hands on my shoulders. "The barn loft has a cozy spot that will be comfortable for us."

"Yeah, let's go," I grunt, shrugging her hands off my shoulders as I stand.

Melanie leads me outside. It's dark now, but the icy-blue moon casts a glow that provides plenty of light. The red moon looks duller at night. The sky in Elenos is quite strange. I've never seen a sun—just the two moons. I stare up at them for a moment, the hurry to catch up with Melanie. She enters the barn and I see the two young men that were plowing the field. They're laying in the straw and fast asleep. The livestock makes some noise when we enter, but it doesn't disturb the sleeping slaves.

"Up here," Melanie says, motioning to a ladder that she starts climbing.

I look up and get a glimpse of Melanie's naked body under her robe, so I wait for her to get to the top of the ladder before I join her. The ladder protests my heavy frame, but supports it. The top of the barn does look quite cozy, like Melanie said. There's hay and a few blankets. Melanie lays one of them out, then strips off her robe and lays down.

"Hey, uh, that's not necessary," I sigh, sitting down on a rolled up blanket.

"Y-you don't want my company?" Melanie's eyes get wide and her lip trembles. "Please, master. I promise I won't disappoint you."

"It's not that, I…" I look down, trying to navigate the situation carefully.

"I'll be beaten if I disappoint you," Melanie whimpers, then she sniffles and starts crying. "I may not be as experienced as Abby, but I'll do anything you say. Just tell me what you want."

"And you called me a monster," Bahamut's voice echoes in my ear. "I don't make pretty girls cry."

"Shut up," I mutter.

"What?" Melanie cries. "Master…"

"I wasn't talking to you!" I growl, turning away.

"If you don't know what to do with a pretty girl, then I'll take over a while," Bahamut chuckles.

"Like hell you will," I grunt, shaking my head.

"Don't worry, Hank. You'll still get to enjoy it," Bahamut says. "And so will she."

"I don't understand, master. Tell me what I did wrong," Melanie pleads pitifully.

I feel the mark on my arm burning, just like it did when I pierced Bahamut's heart. I grab it and grit my teeth, then I feel myself slipping and falling, except my body isn't moving at all. Then I'm standing in an empty space, viewing the world like I'm looking into a pair of binoculars the wrong way. I'm no longer in control of my body. My arms and legs move, but I'm not the one doing it.

"You did nothing wrong, Melanie," Bahamut says in my voice. "You're absolutely perfect."

"R-really?" she asks, looking up with wide, innocent blue eyes.

I try to protest. I yell and scream, but no words come out. If Bahamut hears me the way I hear him, he completely ignores everything I say. He strips off my cloak, pulls Melanie into his arms, and starts kissing her.

I'm powerless to stop him.