Alana was a slave.

Stumbling barefoot across the cold, bare stone, she kept her eyes downcast just as Mama had always told her to. Her feet were purple and bruised, but they were never given breaks. Slaves did not receive breaks unless they were broken bones.

Her once-lustrous locks of blond hair had been cut short, and her blue eyes used to sparkle. The pointed tips of her ears marked her as an elf, one of the few races that were born possessing the Longest Lives perk. It was on days like today, in years like this one, when Alana wished she didn't have it.

Behind her, Mama was exhausted. The only thing keeping her on her feet was Papa's strong arms, though he had to keep out of sight of the slavers. They wouldn't appreciate him using his strength for anything that they didn't approve of.

With the blazing torches that a few of the slavers used casting chaotic, wavering shadows on the walls, it occurred to Alana that she and her parents might be in hell. She didn't know very much about hell, but she knew that it was the worst place anyone could be, run by only the evilest of monsters.

Well, she couldn't imagine a worse place to be, and no one was more evil than slavers.

Licking her dry lips, Alana tried to ignore the curling grip of starvation around her stomach. Thinking about hunger would only make it worse, but they hadn't had a meal since yesterday evening. It was impossible to tell what time it was, after all - there was no sunlight to shine in this awful tunnel.

A few moments later, the weary group exited the narrow, sharp edges of the tunnel and into an expansive cavern, the ceiling stretching up and out of sight.

One of the slavers approached them, scowling. "Hey, yew lot. Git movin', we're almost thar."

Papa walked forward, his shoulders slumping. With barely any hope left in his eyes, he asked, "Please. We need... we need rest. We can't keep going like... like this."

The slaver snorted loudly, drawing a blue whip from his robes. "Well gee, ain't that a shame."

He struck Papa across the face, and Alana's father went down. The slaver folded his arms, the whip dangling from his hand. "Now listen up, this fella's gonna serve as an example o' sorts. Watch closely, aight?"

Alana couldn't watch. She'd already seen this happen before, with some of the other slaves. They were long dead at this point.

She turned her vision upward, her elven eyes seeking the cavern roof for the sun. For light. For any hint of warmth that might show that this world wasn't all death and pain and despair.

And unexpectedly, she saw it.

A shining yellow glint of light was falling from the ceiling of the cavern, hurtling towards the ground, and Alana's eyes widened. Tugging at Mama's arm, she whispered, "Mama, look. A star is falling."

Mama slowly put her hand on Alana's head, trying to be comforting, but her eyes were glued to her husband as the slaver raised the whip, and began to bring it d-

BOOM.

As the star fell behind a rock, a monumental crash was heard, and everyones' heads snapped up in unison. The leader of the slavers, Grez, was a hideous orc with powerful limbs and a knack for finding the most painful ways to torture uncompliant slaves. Removing a jagged scimitar from his back, he looked around. "Wozzat?"

Alana kept her eyes on the rock where the star had fallen, and as a glow came around it, she couldn't hold back the gasp that left her cracked lips.

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It looked like a dog. With deep, thoughtful brown eyes and long shaggy fur, it was of medium size. Its ears flopped over the side of its head, a slight crook near the center of their fold. That was where the normalcy ended. A steady golden glow emanated from its fur, soaking into everyone present and dulling the pain. Bright yellow spots marked its footprints, and it gazed around the scene curiously.

Alana had heard stories of deities coming down from the Cosmic Pantheon and visiting Eruco in person, but she didn't know any of them that took the appearance of a dog.

The slavers backed away uncertainly, and the leader shouted at it, "Back off, whatever ye are! We're doin' business here!"

The dog glanced at him briefly and then turned its head towards the slaves. Calmly, it began to walk forward.

Grez sprinted forward with his sword raised, and Alana let out a barely audible cry of shock. It was a terrible idea to harm any of the Pantheon! Their revenge would be-

The sword hit the golden aura and slogged, but still impacted the dog's fur with enough force to cut stone. Instead of slicing through the dog, the blade shattered, and Alana saw a fraction of the razor edge hurtle towards her.

The dog was instantly standing in front of her, its mouth firmly closed around the shard of the sword. Its speed was breathtaking, and for a moment nobody could quite process what had just happened.

After a few seconds, the dog steadily walked towards the slaves, and they backed away instinctively. Alana's eyes widened from terror as she saw its mouth and its white teeth approach her hand, closing at her wrists to-

-eat the manacles off her wrists.

Alana stared in blatant disbelief as the dog trotted around the group, its teeth carving through the enchanted metal as easily as one might use their hand to disrupt a stream of water. Slurping up the last of the chains like a particularly long strand of spaghetti, it turned around and sat, watching them. Its tail began to wag, tearing chunks of rock out of the ground without any visible effort.

Everyone was still. The slavers, Grez, the slaves, Alana's parents. Nobody moved.

Alana's mind was racing. No deity did its work for free. They always expected something in return, always had a price to go with the gift. The slaves had no gold and no jewels, and the slavers did. What if the dog refused to help them anymore after this?

No! Alana refused to think that way. There had to be something they could give it.

She wracked her brain for dog facts. What did dogs like? Meat? Chasing cats?

A solution came to her mind.

Slowly, her feet sore from walking across miles of stone, she walked forward. Mama tried to lunge forward but stumbled weakly. Papa caught her, pulling her into his arms and watching Alana with terror in his eyes.

Dragging herself across the cave floor, scared half to death, Alana reached out a hand, almost praying for someone to stop her. No one did. The dog watched her almost impassively as her hand slowly landed on its head, and she rubbed between its ears, bracing for death.

It licked her face.

A dim glow suffused the air around Alana, and a deep sense of content filled her. As she watched, the nicks and aches all over her body began to disappear, scratches sealing themselves on their own. She took a full breath, the edge of hunger going away.

Was this a Blessing?

Hesitatingly, the rest of the slaves began to walk forward. Papa helped Mama put her hand on the dog's head, and as it licked her hand, her exhaustion and fear disappeared, giving way to an expression of relief.

Alana didn't know who started laughing, but it began to spread throughout the slaves as the dog began to heal and reinvigorate everyone present. It felt surreal, as if it shouldn't have been happening. There had just too much pain and terror in the past year and a half for it to be real.

Grez snarled, seizing a sword and walking forward. "No! Those are oursh, filthy creature!" He brought the sword down, aiming for Alana. "These are our shlaves!"

The dog opened its mouth and bit down on the sword as it fell, and a shockwave of air blasted from the impact point. The wave deflected away from the dog and the slaves, curving away from the golden aura and slicing through the surrounding stone as easily as butter. Wrapping around the dog's mouth, the wave neatly severed Grez's arm at the joint. The sword itself was sucked into some sort of rift, collapsing in on itself.

A spray of blood erupted from the wound, and Grez howled in pain, clutching at the stump. Alana almost cheered, but the dog sat up and licked the stump. With an abrupt sucking sound, the severed limb shot back into its place, rotated sharply, and mended itself.

Everyone stared at it.

Alana was confused. What was going on? Was the dog on their side, or on the slavers' side?

Shaking its fur, the dog turned around and began padding off into the cave. Looking back at them, it barked loudly, and then continued off, its tail wagging gently. 

The slaves - the former slaves - began following it. Alana was unsure if that was a good idea, but as Mama followed the dog and Papa gestured for Alana to come with them, she realized that it wasn't just a good idea.

With the slavers behind them, it was the only idea.