Lament of the Slave

According to the guardswoman, Rutledge officially asked the Castiana City Guards for assistance in my arrest. She even threatened the terran man with the Captain and prison if he interfered in official matters. It was a lie. A fairy tale that would fall apart the moment Captain Rayden showed up.

That, I was sure.

What I wasn't so sure about was whether she would show up in time. There were doubts in my mind. I even started thinking about how many times this could have happened, how many poor people ended up like me. [Slaves] who managed to get out of Arda or whatever hell they were in, only to be given a collar around their necks again under false pretenses here in Sahal.

A terrible thought.

Workhand Tate tugged at the chains to hurry me up. The agony caused by the movement of heavy shackles I had on my broken wrist and crushed arm woke me out of my thoughts. In horror, I realized I had waned in my resistance to the collar and gave in to fatigue and poison that weighed on my body.

A mistake I couldn't afford right now.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck ... this wasn't supposed to happen," the guardswoman cursed as the door closed behind us, basically imprisoning me in the room with them. Tate dragged me to the center of this back office, a room just big enough to fit a large desk, a few cabinets, and a dozen standing people.

"And whose fault is that!" snapped the slave trader, sitting comfortably in his leather chair. "It was your job to knock her out, and you fucked it up."

The guardswoman didn't back down. "And I told you to let Vik do it. I'm a mage, for fuck's sake! Not some fighter or bruiser like him."

"We needed her stunned, not with a broken neck," he said, glancing at the bruiser as he massaged his temples. The big man just shrugged and nodded, agreeing with his boss.

It was bizarre to watch these two listening to someone with a much lower level than them. I would assume that at least in criminal organizations like this group, the strongest would be the leader. But, when I thought about it, bruiser was good as a bouncer but obviously couldn't run an organization. The woman was panicking after the failed action. And Tate, that guy, was shaking visibly. Neither of them seemed like a leader type to me, more like hired muscles.

I may be wrong, and Rutledge wasn't the boss either. After all, before we entered the store, I still had that weird feeling on the back of my neck, and it wasn't the collar. Though, my guess was it was their spotter. Someone who alerted them when I had left the labyrinth.

Based on the growing tension in the room, not everything went according to plan after that. 

Whose fault was that? I wondered with a smile.

"You saw how fast the bitch was," the guardswoman barked at the trader, pointing her finger at me.

Rutledge nodded, staying calm, despite her outburst. "We don't have time for this. We have to stick to the plan ..."

"What about Stone, sir?" Tate butted in.

"Forget about him," he growled, taking a breath to continue. "Like I said ..."

"But she killed him, boss," Tate objected, cutting in again. "She even gained a level."

"If you don't stop whining about it, I'll kill you myself. There's one less of us, meaning more money for the rest. Maybe now that she leveled-up, we'll get even more for her. Think about it," Rutledge said, and thinking of coins, he grinned.

The guardswoman sneered. "I'd be surprised if we get what they promised for her. Look at her."

"They didn't say they wanted her unharmed," said the trader.

"She's bound," she added sharply.

"..and the irons will remain on her until I see the gold," he declared firmly.

The woman growled in frustration. "Idiot." 

"She's magically bound," she clarified, waiting for the others to respond. They just stared at her blankly. "Really? No one? There are old runes under the labyrinth square. How come none of you know."

Tate raised his hand, "I knew that boss ... and Stone did too."

The trader sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "What exactly does that mean to us?"

"The runes sealed her mana. She can't use any now," she stated to everyone.

It wasn't quite true, though. If my body couldn't use mana, I'd be dying now for lack of it. That was the downside of [Heart of Magic]. Plus, if I couldn't manipulate the mana to some degree, how else would I activate the mark? But because of the seal, I couldn't use it actively outside of my body or on my skills.

"So she's wearing some sort of mark?" the slave trader asked, looking at the door, expecting someone to burst in at any moment. I sincerely hoped for that.

But the woman shook her head. "Nothing like that, but you can get rid of the seal only in the Castiana Barracks."

That irony made me giggle. They disguised themselves as guards to fool me, and now the only place they could get rid of these magical shackles was the city guard's barracks itself.

Somehow I doubted they would go there, though.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" asked the slave trader, furious with her.

"I thought everyone with a little sense who lives in Castiana knew about it. For Traiana's sake, every labyrinth city has such a measure. Why do you think I told you I couldn't use my magic there?" she said, frustrated by the stupidity of this man.

"It's not just magic," the bruiser added, surprising everyone as he spoke.

"Okay ..." the trader said after taking a breath to calm himself, then shook his head and waved it off. "... it already happened. The bitch obviously knew that, too."

Well, he flattered me now, but I was as clueless as he was. Even Tate knew more than I did. But I guessed the runes were the reason no one patrolled the square, and the square itself wasn't one big bloodbath. It was why the competing companies in the square were not just smoldering ruins and why the merchants were not afraid to open their shops there.

Everyone in the room, including me, jumped in fright as the office door opened.

"You," the slave trader breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his two henchmen.

"Ehh ... did something happen?" one of them asked, confused by the tension in the room.

"The wagon is ready. What's next?" the other asked after closing the door behind him.

"She's more trouble than we expected, but plans aren't changing. We'll load her on the wagon next to the rest of our slaves and get out of the city before anyone starts looking for her," he said. I wondered whether he was so stubborn and just wanted to stick to his plan or so stupid and still believed that no one would be looking for me after all that. 

"We can't afford another fuck up like that anymore. Do you understand?" he asked everyone, waiting for them to nod.

I understood. If this bunch miraculously managed to get out of the city, it meant the end of hope for me. However, I had quite limited options to prevent them from doing so. One, actually. Sage. His glands were full of poison. The only question was when to use it.

It would have the biggest effect at the gate to draw the attention of the guards stationed there to me. However, I could not say whether I would still have some control over myself, or I would already be under the full control of my master. What's worse, poison was already leaking from the full glands in the tail. It was only a matter of time before this bunch of amateurs noticed.

I couldn't risk waiting, and right now, I was standing in the middle of a small closed room. Even better, I was surrounded by five of them and standing in front of their boss, owner of the collar. This was the perfect chance to poison them all.

So, I took it.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on gaining at least some control over my body. When I succeeded, I squeezed the glands so hard it hurt. It didn't stop me, and despite the pain the fast release caused me, I waved my tail around me to spread the poison through the room as quickly as possible.

"Stop her!" shouted the trader, hidden behind the clouds of orange gas. His yell made me smile as he didn't seem to realize that I was his slave now and he could order me, idiot.

Even when the bruiser grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off the ground, which was more excruciating than I thought such a hold would be, I didn't quit.

"Stop it, bitch!" he growled at me while crushing my neck.

My answer was "fuck you," even if only in my mind. I don't know how he imagined I would answer him when I couldn't breathe. Despite the acute lack of oxygen in my lungs, I didn't stop until Sage had no poison in his glands. At that moment, the bruiser slammed me to the ground, satisfied with himself for forcing me to stop.

(ding) You were poisoned

Hopefully, my body could handle two kinds of poisons at once. If not, death awaited me. Nothing foreign to me, but I could only imagine how this bunch would react. 

It wasn't hard to imagine more bickering and panicking before they decided to try to sell the corpse for a lower price to the one who offered them the reward for me. It was much harder to guess what would happen when I came back to life.

But everything had its time, and right now, I was still alive, although disappointed.

The poison in the room did not last long, as the guardswoman dispersed it using magic. Its absence revealed a sad truth. That bastard, Rutledge, was pissed but unaffected by the poison. Whether he took the antidote or had resistance against poisons didn't matter. He was alive, and I still had the master.

Neither bruiser nor the guardswoman were affected by the poison either, nor did I expect anything else. At their levels, they had to be able to deal with it. However, no one held the chains to my shackles as Rutledge's three henchmen fled the room.

"Couldn't you have done that earlier?" he criticized the woman.

She shook her head, pissed at his remark. "I'm an assault mage. My specialty is fire, not dispersing poisons. A lot of gases are flammable. Guess the rest ... "

His silence and horrified expression spoke for themselves. If what she said was true and my poison was flammable, which I haven't thought of testing until now, the room would explode.

(ding) You have defeated [Fighter - Brenden Rollins: lvl 86]

The system message startled me, but after I realized it must have been one of the merchant's henchmen, I smiled at the minor success. He wasn't the one I hoped the poison would kill, but in my eyes, he did not deserve to die any less.

"At least I did something, but what about you? Why didn't you order her to stop?" the guardswoman asked, accusing the trader of incompetence. It was baffling to me how my attack had the opposite effect on her than I expected and relieved her of panic. At least to some extent.

Rutledge cleared his throat and looked at me. "That bitch is resisting the collar. I don't have full control over her yet."

What?" the woman paused. "When did you want to tell us?"

"Remember, you work for me. I don't have to tell you shit," the slave trader replied.

The guardswoman gritted her teeth, "I know why I work for you ..."

"Good, don't forget that," he warned her.

"Give her a better collar, then!" butted in the bruiser, standing over me.

The woman nodded. "Vik's right. If you can't control her, it could be a problem at the gate."

"I only have a license for slaves up to level one hundred," the man said, as if that explained everything.

"You don't have one stronger collar hidden somewhere?" the woman wondered, not believing that someone like him had no secret stash with illegal stuff.

He sighed. "I don't. Thank your beloved Rayden for that."

Oh, so he had, but the Captain found out and confiscated it. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Shut up!" he shouted at me angrily, and I fell silent.

I could resist the order, but I had no reason to waste my energy on such pettiness.

(ding) You have defeated [Slaver - Carl Trujillo: lvl 91]

If I was allowed, I would have laughed even more. Somewhere outside this room, two of Rutledge's henchmen died, and he had no idea.

"I could stun her," the bruiser suggested.

The merchant shook his head, "No, the last slave you just wanted to knock out ended up dead. Hmm ... she must have some skill that allows her ... maybe [Indomitable will] ..."

Shit! I cursed inwardly, over his train of thoughts. At first, I thought my resistance to the collar's effects was successful because I only had it on my neck just for a while, that it didn't have time to fully bind my mind yet. Now I knew it was due to the strength of the collar, which was limited to slaves up to the level of a hundred. No doubt I fit the bill, but my skill didn't. It was beyond the expectations of my new master. Unfortunately, he realized it.

Pointing his finger at me, Rutledge frowned. "Korra Gray, I order you to swap all your skills."

His order struck me very hard, and before I knew it, I was looking at my status screen. A mere thought was enough, and all the hard work that I put into my skills, the suffering I experienced to get them where they were would be gone.

So I defied the order with all my might. I fought back the command, which carried more weight since he used my name in it. Blinded by a headache, I resisted so hard that blood began to flow from my nose and ears. I could only hope that the brain damage my defiance was causing me wouldn't be permanent and that [Never-Dying] will heal my brain. 

I wasn't entirely sure it does, though. So far, the skill was just a passive regeneration to me, a very excellent regeneration, but I had doubts about the brain. After all, the description of [Never-Dying] mentioned that as long as the brain is not damaged, I could recover from anything. So did that mean the skill wasn't able to regenerate my brain? But what about my nerve poison then? Its job was basically to destroy the nervous system, my brain included. So why was I still alive? I usually fell asleep poisoned by it, basically destroying my brain every night.

This little bit of pondering, thoughts of something else, helped redirect the urge to change my skills, if only a little. But it was enough. I still resisted, and I didn't change a single skill. Not even after an eternity, that the minute of my inner struggle seemed to me. 

This victory over the collar and the command was at the cost of a lack of control over my body. I was shaking on the ground, moaning into the gag, while blood was dripping from my nose and ears into a pool of it on the floor. It was rather embarrassing to admit that blood wasn't the only liquid dripping from me, and I lay in. I don't know exactly when it happened, but I pissed myself.

"For fucks sake, you're killing her," barked the guardswoman, panicking over my condition. "Don't you have a skill to control her?"

"Persistent bitch!" Rutledge cursed at me, and lingering with another command, took a breath. "I'm revoking the last order."

I collapsed on the floor, unable to move a muscle with a massive headache, but with my skills untouched.

"Oh, so you have one," the woman paused, surprised by the trader's order.

Rutledge shook his head. "I'm [Slave Trader] not [Slaver]. One of my guys is, though ... Carl!"

But no one answered his call.

Only now did he notice the absence of his henchmen in the room. "Where the hell did they go? Carl!"

Instead of Carl, who was lying dead somewhere outside, the somewhat upset Tate appeared in the doorway.

"You," the trader frowned when he saw him. "Where's Carl?"

"B ... boss, he's dead. So is Brenden." he said, trembling and then pointed at me. "It ... it's her, it's her fault. Her poison ... it killed them."

The room fell silent. Even I stopped moaning over my headache, expecting retaliation for killing two of their crew members.

"Come again. You are telling me she killed them both?" The trader asked slowly. Tate nodded and pointed at me again. 

"With that pathetic poison?" he added for clarification. His last henchman nodded even more energetically this time.

"They died of poisoning when they both should have [Poison Resistance]?" he asked another question, making sure he heard well.

This time Tate seemed uncertain but nodded.

"How the fuck is that possible! It's the skill necessary in this field of work, and I know they had it!" he shouted at his henchman.

"B ... boss, but they didn't...have it," stuttered the frightened man.

"Speak!" he ordered him.

"Brand, he ... he swapped it for [Quick Punch]. At...at nights he took part in pit matches ... to make more money."

Trader massaged the bridge of his nose. "And Carl?"

Tate cleared his throat, hesitant to answer. "[Bull's Endurance], he bragged about it ... used it to rape slave girls. Quite often, according to him...."

"I heard enough," his boss stopped him with a raised hand. "So he was destroying my goods, bastard."

"Both of them are idiots who deserved it," Rutledge said, then frowned at Tate. "What's bothering me is why the biggest idiot is still alive."

Yeah, I'd also like to know how this scum that shackled me was still alive. He had more luck than brains.

"My mother told me never to change that skill," he said proudly.

Trader sigh. "Ah yeah, your mother ... a hell of a woman."

"So no skill to control her?" asked the guardswoman.

"Obviously, just knock her out as you should have done in the beginning," he said, waving his hand.

The woman mumbled something even I could not hear, likely due to blood in the ears, and looked at me.