A young boy in a white robe, worn thin from the years of poverty.
Today marks the sixth time of Noah's exchange of ownership.
To be born a child of a slave was to enter the world owning a debt one never borrowed. But fate was never fair, no matter how strong a person is, fate always finds a way to break them.
Noah was sitting on a wooden horse-drawn wagon alongside other slaves. There was barely enough space inside the wagon and they were crammed shoulder to shoulder.
As if things couldn't get any worse, the road that they had to go through was bumpy, the wagon jolted like it was being dragged through a grave.
Life as a commoner in this era was already hard enough, but as a slave? They had it worse. These poor souls were forced into hard labor, regardless of their age. These slaves worked tirelessly until the end of the day in return for a piece of bread, ..if they were lucky.
The ride to the slave market was quiet, followed only by the sound of metal chains clanking on the wooden floor of the wagon.
Out there in the forest along the pathway, there's nothing but trees as far as the eyes can see. It's best not to try to escape from here, who knows what kind of beast is preying on their meal inside those bushes?
Noah was minding his own business inside the wagon, when suddenly a middle-aged burly man who is also a fellow slave spoke to him.
"What's that look on your face, eh?"
The man asked, his tone was deep as if it could penetrate the soul. But Noah didn't respond, he remained indifferent.
"I'm talking to you, answer me."
The burly man said with a demanding tone, he is visibly pissed by Noah's indifference. Judging by the man's physical build, he can definitely and will most likely crush someone's skull if provoked.
Noah snapped out of his daydreaming, clearing his throat before speaking.
"I.. uh.. I'm just.. wondering what life in the main district would be."
Noah replied, dismissing all his thoughts.
"Tch. Don't get your hopes up. Wherever you go, a slave will always be a tool, and a tool that doesn't work gets thrown out."
The burly man said bitterly, his voice is firm, it is as if he is speaking from experience, which he is. There is truth in his words. Slave is meant to be used, to be discarded. And those born as a slave, there's no redemption to seek.
The rest of the ride passes in a blur, with the occasional sounds of woods creaking and the sound of the horse's footsteps.
After what feels like an eternal torture, the wagon finally came to a halt in front of an iron gate. A guard who was stationed at the gate of the city approached the rider.
"State your business."
The guard asked as he stole a couple of glances at the passenger of the wagon. He sees a few men and women crammed tightly to maximize the space inside the small wagon.
"I brought slaves from the Slave Market as per request of the overseer."
The rider replied calmly and firmly.
The guard then raised his hand at the other guards on top of the gate, signalling them to open the iron gate.
"Safe delivery. Make sure none of them tries to escape, we are not obliged to help you retrieving a lost slave."
The guard steps aside, making ways for the horse wagon to pass. The rider snapped the reins without a word as the horse walked inside the district.
As the horse walked inside the district, everything was clear to Noah. This place was full with nobles, and there were hardly any common folks at all. The street was cleaner than the one in the outer district, but that doesn't matter. Because he knows wherever he goes, he is still a common slave.
After a couple of minutes, the horse finally stopped in front of a Slave Trade Office, as the rider unmount the horse, he opened the back of the wagon and knock hard on the wagon's wooden body.
"Move it slaves, we ain't got all day."
The man barked orders, slapping the wagon's side until one slave after another started to climb out of the wagon, all of them were tied to one long chain on their wrists, and individual chains on each other's neck.
Suddenly, a man wearing a top hat and a black suit emerged from inside the office. There seemed to be some sort of whip on his side.
"Listen up, slaves. I'm your overseer. My task is to make sure your new masters don't go lenient on you. But at the same time I will make sure they keep you alive. By any means necessary."
The overseer said with a harsh tone and a deep voice. Judging by his attire and appearance, he seems to be a middle-aged noble.
Noah gulped, just what kind of treatment will he need to endure this time? He whispered in his heart "God help me, if there's still any mercy left under his sky."
[—To be Continued—]