"Hannah, run. Run as fast as you can." My mother said these words to me as she set me down and looked me in the eyes. At the time, I had no clue what was going on, I wish I listened and never had to learn.
I jolted awake from that nightmare, seemingly unscathed. I guess a dream can only hurt you so much. As my dream senses dissipated and I came to reality, the noise of the train car which I was sat in filled my ears just as much as the tapping of one of the passengers.
It was an unspoken rule of slaves to not stop another from doing something comforting, we all had our reasons.
The train car isn't at all luxurious, there is one bench on the far wall, the longest one in this rectangular box, no windows, and no joy. All the passengers are in chains and the room is full of us. It seems they wanted to ensure that there was no space left unfilled.
Each of our chains is connected to each other, forcing us to remain where we are. I lightly stretched, ensuring not to pull the chains too far as to not cause a commotion. I looked at the source of the mysterious tapping, a young girl, around seven years of age.
It is a sad fate... She will probably wind up a sex slave with her looks. After a few moments of blanking out, I noticed a considerable tilt in the car, indicating that we are currently going around a mountain. After another few seconds, the car stabilized and the inertia was no longer affecting the passengers.
Odds are the inertia regulators kicked in. They are clearly an older model with how faulty they seem to be. I always wondered where I would be had I run back then, but every time I come back to the same thought. 'They would have found me.'
Well, enough of those depressing thoughts. I surveyed the passengers once more, looking for who was most likely to have the most tragic fate. Eventually, my eyes settled on a pregnant woman, likely of elven descent. She is petite, clearly underfed.
She seems to be around thirteen. The child isn't likely to survive, driving the mother to sadness. Eventually, she'll die from some form of torture, or starving herself. Quite sad, though, perhaps that man will have it worse.
A dwarven male fetches a high price and is typically used as a personal smith. That one seems to have a somewhat feminine build, maybe he will be raped by the other slaves, or maybe the master will do it himself.
After predicting the future of each of the slaves, we finally arrived at our destination, Kyrak city, the city of auctions. I've been here around three times, every master sells me for more than the last, and I have had around seven of them. I don't really know why they cast me aside, but it doesn't really matter.
Maybe they were short on cash and sold me to pay back any debts they had, or perhaps I just became boring to them, either way, the end result was unchanged. After a few minutes, the train door was opened and several armored men entered.
Their armor is strange. It's tan in coloration with gray tubes coming from a mask and reaching into the back. It all appears as one piece but clearly isn't. "Form a line, single file." A man said as he motioned for us to leave.
Slowly, everyone stood up and the first few exited, starting the line. The most important part of this process is making sure you don't trip. No one will have mercy. You will die. The line moved at an even pace which I matched easily, ensuring I don't go too fast or slow, something the man behind me clearly has issues with.
For a moment I hear the scream of a little girl, then a gunshot. In an instant, the scream ended. No one flinched. I decided to look back for a moment. I regret that. I saw the corpse of the little girl who was tapping earlier getting dragged as the line moved along.
I could feel my stomach turn at the thought of the same happening to me. The person in front is lucky. They won't be shot because they have to lead the line. If they die the line is held up. I wish I was in front.
After a while, we all finally exited the train car and the door was slammed shut behind us. We were then separated into groups and put into cars. A relatively new invention made utilizing the combustion engine. I learned a bit about them when I was a servant to a mechanic. My second master.
He was kind. Always made sure I was fed on time and never once laid his hands on me. Unfortunately, his wife was a jealous person. She abused me. After a while, she convinced her husband to get rid of me. Of course, that was only because she thought I would steal her husband one day.
I think back to then every now and again and imagine what would have happened had I stayed. That man always thought of me as the daughter he would never have. I was seven at the time. I was lucky.
Once everyone was loaded onto a car we began towards the city entrance. Once again, I was in a box without any way to see the outside world. I had gotten used to it quite some time ago.
After waiting what seemed like forever, we reached the auction hall. Each car was unloaded as someone stood at each car, making sure all of the merchandise is here.
"Where is the little girl with red hair and freckles?" One of them yelled. A soldier came up to him. I made sure to listen closely.
"She had fallen, she would have been trampled so we put her down." He explained.
"I see... And she would have sold for so much too. What a shame." The other responded. After a bit more walking, we had finally reached the holding area. Each of us received a personal cell around one hundred square feet.
The cell has a small chair, a toilet, and a sink with some non-toxic soap. Everyone was taken to the stage one by one, and eventually, it was my turn. I was escorted to the stage and positioned on a pedestal so the clientele could see me.
The auction room is rather large and has several low-ranking nobles in it. A few individuals are successful merchants, but they are a dying breed as locomotives are allowing for larger businesses to spring up, causing the wealth to fall into the hands of a few rich elites.
My initial price was stated and someone immediately bid on me. From there it was a bidding war. Eventually, the price settled at one hundred thousand three hundred fifty kegs. Kegs, of course, being the currency and not barrels.
A large sum since my price was originally one thousand kegs. I shudder to think about what they have planned for me. I pushed away those negative thoughts and was escorted off stage and into the changing room to be prepared for my new master.
Since I was bought at a high price, I also get good quality clothing for my meeting with my new master. I am put in a dress that reaches just past my knees. It is a dull red dress with a dull green sash around the waist.
It is rather comfortable and not overly revealing. My chains are put back on and I am escorted to the sitting room. I look at the other slaves. There is a man in clothing of similar quality to mine, I wonder what his price was.
I also see a few children, each of them is wearing poor quality clothing if it can be called that. It looks more like rags that were stitched together. One poor little girl, seemingly around the age of thirteen, doesn't even have anything covering her chest.
I avoided eye contact with each of the other slaves as they did with me. After a while, the auction concluded and I was given to my master. I met him personally. Mr. Torrson.
Apparently, he is the grandson of the man who united the continent, though the title of emperor belongs to his brother. I was lead to a rather luxurious car. Mr. Torrson entered, leaving the door opened. Unsure of what to do, I stood there lifelessly.
"Enter the car." Mr. Torrson said. I did as I was instructed and entered the car. The interior is decorated with velvet and the seats have wonderful cushioning, very different from the slave cars. "So, what do you think of the car?" He asked.
"Different." I said emotionlessly. Not because I dislike the car, but because my emotional gauge was broken when I was eight. Mr. Torrson was clearly uncomfortable with my response as he straightened his posture and avoided eye contact. After a few moments, the car began to move.
"It would be nice to hear some emotion in your voice." He said. I looked at him and he returned my gaze.
"I agree." I said blandly. He sighed.
"Jay warned me that most slaves were broken, but I didn't think it was this bad. My grandfather meant to focus on the rights of slaves at some point, but never was able to, he was always off in his own world it seemed." Mr. Torrson said. "It doesn't help that my late father and my brother are not the types of people to care about such things..." Mr. Torrson said with a certain level of distaste that was obvious. "My grandfather had hundreds of children and he chose one of the worst candidates as his successor." Mr. Torrson added.
"Master, it may not be my place to interject, however, I believe Liam Torrson was more focused on the economic state of the nation over the personal rights of lower lifeforms." I interjected with my usual flat tone. Mr. Torrson sighed.
"Yeah, I know that. It just pisses me off sometimes is all. Not only that, but my grandfather never saw slaves as lesser lifeforms, he saw them as individuals worth respecting enough to give them some decent quarters and food." Mr. Torrson said.
"My apologies for the insult, master. If you wish to punish me, please do." I said blankly.
"It was an easy mistake, don't worry about it." He said. I looked at him with a curious expression. One of the first times I have made an expression in the past few months. "What?" He asked.
"You remind me vaguely of a previous master I had." I stated simply.
"What was he like?" He asked.
"Kind." I responded.
"Is that all?" He asked in response. I shook my head.
"No, however, it is the only portion of him you remind me of." I stated.
"Tell me more about him, you have me interested now." Mr. Torrson said.
"He is a mechanic. He treated me like his own daughter and was very kind." I explained as I looked away from my master.
"Why are you no longer with him?" He asked. He is getting rather nosey now, but not much I can do about that.
"His wife thought that I may steal him one day." I said as I closed my eyes and realigned my expression with my current emotional state, nothing. Of course, that wasn't the whole story, the man also was going bankrupt.
"Wait, how old were you at the time?" He asked.
"Seven years, ten months, thirteen days, two hours." I replied simply. I can remember most things from ages three and up quite easily. I glanced at my master and saw an expression of pure shock, though I haven't the slightest clue why.
"Kaleb, when we get home, inform Henrick that I want a tutor to be readied." Mr. Torrson said.
"Yes sir." Kaleb responded.
After a while, we reached the estate. During the car ride, I was berated with questions from the man in his early twenties. He seemed curious about the experiences of a slave.