I was woken up by pounding on the door to my new bedroom.

After our discussion yesterday, we discovered that we had spent all day talking. It had been twilight by the time we had finished, and we had made the decision to turn in early after everything that had happened. I suppose that they were tired from the whole branding procedure, while Azarus had also had to go out and speak to his cousin. Personally, I was also bizarrely tired. Maybe from the emotional rollercoaster of everything we had discussed.

With a groan, I sat up in bed. “I’m up! You can stop now!”

I heard a grunt outside the door from what could only be Azarus. “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen. We have shit to do.” I heard, muffled by the door. After that, I heard him tromping away from the door and down the stairs.

Letting my head fall into my hands, I groaned tiredly. I guess we were going to try and get me one of those Professions we had talked about. I did as he said, swinging my legs off the bed and getting dressed. Exiting my room, I decided to check the door at the end of the hallway, hoping it was another washroom to take care of some business. Sure enough, when I opened the door, it was, remarkably similar to the one attached to Grey’s room. I entered and did what I had to.

When I finished, I stopped to take a look at myself in the mirror. Honestly, I looked much better than I had yesterday. Some color had returned to my skin and it looked like I had somehow filled back out a little. My skin didn’t seem to be hanging off of me as much as it had been. Maybe it was my Status that had helped me recover so quickly? What drew my eyes the most, however, was my collar.

I reached up a hand and laid it tentatively on its black metal surface. Hard to believe that this thing was some kind of magical bomb collar. It wasn’t even that large or thick, outside of the loop on the front to attach chains to. I couldn’t feel anything magical about it, although I suppose I wouldn’t be able to considering how new to this I was.

Remembering something else, I took off my shirt and turned my back to the mirror. Looking over my left shoulder, I tried to look for the brand that they had put on me.

Yup. There it was.

On my left shoulder was the decoy brand they had put on me. It looked like an S turned on its side with a diagonal slash mark through the center of it. It didn’t look as deep or as horrifically scarred as I would have assumed a brand to look. It honestly just looked like a neat, stylized burn that had healed over well. I guess that was because they used a healing potion on the mark right after they had placed it.

I wasn’t very happy about essentially being branded like cattle, but they’d already told me it didn’t have to be permanent. If we ever managed to get out of here, I was going to ask them to heal the brand first thing.

If.

I exited the washroom and went down to the kitchen. Inside, there was only Azarus.

Looking around, I asked him. “Where’s Grey?”

Not looking up from his porridge (Porridge? Again? Did they eat anything else?) Azarus said. “He’s busy. Everything we did yesterday set him back on the junk he needs to make for the Prince. Just you and me today. Grab a bowl and we’ll leave when you’re done.”

I stood in the doorway for a moment before doing what he said silently. Once I’d gotten a bowl of porridge, I sat down at the table. Azarus and I ate our breakfast in awkward silence.

Finishing my bowl, I set it aside for a moment before looking back at Azarus. “So…where are we going?”

Finally looking back up at me, Azarus answered me. “Going to see a guy named Vandimar. Like I said, this guy owes me a favor. See, he’s the nephew of Magnus’s Seneschal. A bit of a fuck up, he got in a spot of trouble with the law about a year back. Came running to me, and now I own him. Figuratively.” He said, smirking slightly.

I tilted my head in confusion. “If his uncle is such a big shot, why did he come to you?”

Azarus shook his head. “Nah, see. Orin is a bit of a hard ass. Real big on owning up to your mistakes. He would’ve let Van do the time.”

“And this guy can teach me one of the other Professions?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope, he doesn’t give a rat’s arse about leveling or Professions or any of that. But, see, his pa begged Orin to give Van some kind of responsibility, and he did. Set him up as the owner of the only Butcher shop in town. So, he may not have any Professions, but his ‘slave’ does. We’re going to see if we can convince his Butcher to teach you Fleshcraft.” He finished, standing up and heading to the front door.

I stood up as well and followed him out the front door. Closing the door behind me, I saw that Azarus was waiting on me. With a jerk of his head, he motioned to the path out of his clearing away from the house. With a nod, I followed him out.

……………………………………...

We had walked maybe five minutes in silence before we stopped. Or rather, Azarus stopped abruptly.

“Fuck, I forgot.” He muttered to himself. Turning to me, he had an awkward look on his face. “Look, there are a few things you should know whenever we’re in town, yeah?”

“I’m listening,” I told him.

“Okay, so. Legally, you’re a slave. That means if you don’t want to raise suspicion, you’re going to have to act a certain way. Keep your head down, don’t stare at people, don’t look anyone in the eye. And, well,” He said, looking away and rubbing the back of his head. “If anyone talks to you, you have to refer to them as ‘Master’. If you don’t, they can probably get you punished. I’m telling you; you don’t want that.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I frowned slightly. Okay, that sucked, but I guess I could deal. I told Azarus as much.

Nodding, Azarus continued, still awkward. “And uh, don’t be surprised if people kind of trip over themselves with me. I’m the only other noble in town, next to Magnus. Dwarves, we’re not big on being casual with people that are above us on the ladder, yeah?”

“Alright,” I answered him, slightly confused.

Nodding at me, Azarus set off back on the path. I followed him.

……………………………………...

Maybe ten minutes later of brisk walking, we reached town. I tried to keep my head down, but I could tell that it wasn’t quite as busy as it had seemed yesterday when I had been brought here. Could be that it just wasn’t that busy in the mornings, could be the new slaves had gotten the town in an uproar. I didn’t know, and honestly, I didn’t care all that much.

When we exited the path, Azarus’s demeanor changed visibly. Straightening his back and lengthening his stride, he seemed like he was walking around like he owned the place. He deliberately schooled his face into a neutral expression and kept his head facing forwards. I kept my head down as best I could.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see other dwarves stop at the sight of Azarus as we strode through town. Every time, every dwarf that I saw would bow slightly at the waist to him before moving on. Azarus ignored them and just kept walking with purpose.

Finally, Azarus stopped in front of one of the buildings. Looking up slightly to catch a glimpse of it, I couldn’t see anything that would necessarily make it a butcher shop. It didn’t even really have a sign.

Without turning to me on his left, Azarus whispered. “Watch this.”

I didn’t have time to question him before Azarus reared up his left leg and kicked the front door of the shop open with a bang. I heard a high-pitched shriek from inside the shop. “Van! Where are ya, ya little sh-” He stopped mid-sentence. “Eh?”

Two people were standing behind the front desk. The first, who was still shrieking slightly, was a male dwarf. He was the very image of a fop, with curly blond hair and a powdered face. He was wearing gaudy clothing in reds, blacks, and golds. No beard again, I noticed.

The other was the human woman that I had shared a wagon with that very first night after I had been captured. Raising my head in surprise, I stared at her. Initially, she was gaping at Azarus with wide eyes before noticing me. If anything, she seemed more shocked to see me than the huge dwarf that had kicked in the door.

“Who’re you?” Azarus said to the woman confusedly over the shrieks of the dwarf. “Where’s Danny? Gods dammit Van, will you shut the hell up? It’s just me!”

That seemed to get through to the dwarf, as he finally stopped shrieking and opened his eyes. “M-my lord?” He stuttered. “Oh, my lord, I wish you would stop doing that! It gives me such a fright!”

Behind him, I raised an eyebrow slightly. Now that I understood the language, I had noticed that Azarus had a slight accent, slightly Scottish to my ears. This ‘Vandimar’ though sounded completely different. If anything, he sounded like he had an Italian accent.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azarus said dismissively. “Who’s this? Where’s Danny?”

The powdered dwarf’s face dropped. “Oh, yes. That’s right. You haven’t been around for some time, my lord. Danny, well.” He looked away uncomfortably. “He was chosen for Lord Magnus’s little you-know-what. He didn’t make it.”

Azarus’s face darkened like a thundercloud. “That little shite.” He growled, clenching his fists. “When is he gonna stop doing that. It’s such a fucking waste.”

“As you say, my lord,” Vandimar answered him, his face lowered.

Azarus sighed, slumping slightly. “I’m sorry Van. I didn’t know.” He turned to the human woman. “I’m guessing this is his replacement?”

“Yes, my lord. I purchased her just yesterday, in fact. She was with the new arrivals. I tried to run the front desk for a time after losing Danny, but I couldn’t quite manage it well.” Vandimar said. Noticing me for the first time, he brightened. “Oh! Did you perchance happen upon a new employee as well, my lord?”

“Yeah,” Azarus nodded. “Got something to talk to you about. Why don’t we do it upstairs? You can stay down here, won’t take long.” He finished, speaking to me. Afterward, he started walking back to behind the desk, where some stairs to a second floor were set into the right wall. Vandimar scurried after him, leaving us two humans alone.

We stood in silence for a moment, avoiding each other’s gaze.

I tugged at my shirt nervously. “So-”

Hearing me speak, the woman jumped before staring at me.

“I can understand ye!” She said in surprise.

“Oh, yeah,” I said awkwardly. “I uh. I got Awakened.”

“So ye were Unawkened then.” The woman said, leaning forward. “We thought ye might be. Mighty strange, as old as ye are.”

“Yeah…” I said nervously. It just now occurred to me that we hadn’t settled on a cover story for why I had only just been Awakened. Shit.

Seeing how nervous I was, the woman dropped the topic. “Well, never did get properly introduced, now did we? The name’s Rachel Fergusson.” She said briskly, thrusting out a hand.

I stared blankly at her for a moment hurrying forward and taking her hand. She gave it a strong squeeze and shake before dropping it. I let go, shaking my hand. She was one hundred percent stronger than I was.

“Uh, my name is Nathan Hart. Nice to meet you?” I said to her.

“Hart? Like the deer? Nice name, always did like venison.” She said in surprise.

“Thank you? My parents gave it to me?” I replied, confused.

“Right, right. So, what’s yer story? We,” She paused, pain flashing across her face before vanishing. “We were mighty confused about how ye just appeared out of nowhere. Corporal Danvers thought ye might be some kind of rebel spy with the way he couldn’t Observe ye.”

Rebel. Wonder what that was about?

“Danvers, huh,” I said, unimpressed. “Was that the guy who knocked me out?”

“Aye,” She nodded. “He was the Army man assigned to our village. He was escorting us through the Barren Forest when, well.”

We stood in awkward silence for a moment. We both knew what had happened.

“So, how’s Vandimar?” I asked her, desperate to break the silence.

She started, having been lost in thought. “Oh, him? He seems alright, fer a stunty. When the knife ears told us we were going to get sold to some dwarves, I thought fer sure I’d be in bigger trouble. I heard,” She said, leaning forward. “That these stuntys really like human women. Thought I might’ve ended up in a brothel. Butcher shop suits me better.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Who told you that?”

She paused. “Oh, me brother's wife’s cousin, Isabell. She might’ve been talking out her arse, though. She was a bit of dumb bint, System rest her soul.” She finished, making a strange gesture with her hands. First, she held up her right hand with all her fingers together and then brought up her left hand with only her pointer and middle fingers extended across the bottom of her right palm horizontally. It seemed to be representing seven fingers, for some reason.

I stared at her confusedly.

Noticing, she said to me. “Oh, ye don’t have the Church of the Gyre where yer from? It’s-”

She was cut off by Azarus and Vandimar tromping back down the stairs. At the sight of them, she clammed up.

Still standing behind the counter, Azarus jerked his head in the direction of the door behind him. “Cleared things up with Van. We’re good to go.” He pushed open the door with his right hand and held it open.

Still standing at the bottom of the stairs, Vandimar was staring at me, fascinated, as if I was a rare animal.

Stepping up awkwardly, aware everyone in the shop was looking at me, I walked through the door Azarus was holding open.