9 years since the death of Lucia. Year 1040 of the Holy Templorian Calendar.
Icarus had been cold to the other children since that day; they obviously had not known the extent of what they had done, but the intent had been hostile anyway.
Hilda had beaten him bloody that day and rewarded the guard who had saved him immensely.
Icarus found this similar to his parents from his previous life, always rewarding people who helped him slightly, never acknowledging him for what he himself accomplished.
This made him mad, as this sense of injustice seemed to follow him wherever he went.
He was now watched constantly, though there was no attempt by him to escape.
There was no point; he got good food, the tutor was decent, and the streets were dangerous to the weak.
On top of that, Hilda was now receiving the very last Payment from the knight, which means that Icarus would soon leave this place, perhaps to become a knight's apprentice. He shivered in anticipation.
Regardless, tutor Daniel had continued giving lessons, he had learned more about the world and succeeded at minor illusion spells, but had yet to be able to cast any elemental spells.
The composition of spells was still strange to him; some were made purely of different types of mana, which were impossible to him. Illusion magic used the mana present in all living things, and he could only make a small shape the size of a dime with it.
Other spells would take mana, ingredients, calculations, sigils, rhythms and incantations, depending on the spell and this he could still not comprehen,d and the Tutor could not effectively demonstrate some of these techniques either.
He also learned that the world that surrounded temploria was vast, sallihar, and the bladed Marshlands were two massive continents on either side, as well as unexplored lands that dotted the oceans around the realms of Sangred, some islands, some big enough to be called full continents
The inhabited lands were not hostile to Temploria, and the distance between them was great enough to encourage all continents to just focus on their own problems.
Icarus fell asleep that night thinking of knighthood and magic.
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Icarus awoke to banging on the front door of the building. He got up and peered down the stairs to see Hilda walk up to the door, behind her the guard stood tall, his head snapped to where Icarus was, but he had already stopped peeping.
His heart beat fast in his chest as thoughts coursed through his mind, 'is the knight here early? I don't think it's been ten years? What else could this be anyway?'
Downstairs, the guard's head turned back to the door. He was a deserter from one of the great battles against the dark elves, a former knight on the verge of being named a royal knight; his qualifications were far above this job.
He sighed and wondered if it would be better off had he died at the battle instead of living babysitting for a fat caretaker.
The door opened, and a single figure stepped through, a dark cloak wrapped around him, shielding his face from view.
Hilda smiled, "Welcome, the boy is upstairs, be sure to make a mess when you catch him, we can't have things look so pretty. But of course first..."
She extended a chubby palm and greedily smiled at the cloaked figure.
He raised a hand, "Indeed, here is the agreed-upon amount."
The man's hand stretched outwards, passing over the woman's hand and toward her face. She frowned and began to speak.
The Guard suddenly crouched and ripped his sword from his sheath. In an instant, a dagger was shoved into Hilda's throat. She gargled and collapsed on her face.
Icarus heard the noises and looked downstairs, utterly shocked by what he had heard previously, "Are they?.. talking about me?"
Icarus stared in amazement as he saw what was going on. The cloaked man clashed blades with the knight, being shoved back, the space was confined, but the two were using it nearly flawlessly, their speed almost too much for Icarus to see with his eyes.
He saw Hilda lying on the ground, a pool of blood flowing from her neck.
The guard landed an overhead slash on the dagger, the man deflected the strike into the ground and raked the guard's cheek with the sharp blade's edge.
The guard stepped back and swung his sword upwards. The man jumped up onto the roof and back down again, clashing with the guard. The guard overpowered him and sent him flying back into a bookshelf.
The man crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, and the guard slowly approached, " Who are you!?"
The man looked up, his hood falling off to reveal his face, a red-haired young man with an eye patch covering his left eye.
The guard raised his sword, "You should know, there is no way to save yourself now unless you speak."
The man smiled, "You should know that there is no way to save myself at all."
The guard grunted, " I will not ask again."
As he said this, his sword crashed to the floor, a wild smile passed over the red-haired man's face, and he stood up.
The guard stood still, frozen in place. "Paralytic poison. The moment my dagger touched you, it was over." The man picked up the guard's sword and, with a laugh, slashed the guard's head free of his shoulders.
Icarus gasped. In a moment, the man was in front of him; he grabbed Icarus by the face and hurled him down the stairs.
The door burst open and more cloaked figures streamed in, Icarus stared as the other children were brought down one by one.
Not even 10 minutes later, they had been loaded into a livestock carriage and had exited the city. Harlem stared at Icarus
"You! This is your fault! They got all of us because of you!"
Icarus stared back without saying a word, Harlem bit his tongue and looked away.
The others discussed things like where they were going or what was going to happen, but Icarus just sat.
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Days of travelling later, they must have taken an unknown route, as there had been nothing since they had left, the whole city would know by now, but very few people cared about some orphans from Westcrag.
The areas where the children had been let out to go to the bathroom were all in the middle of nowhere, so it seemed like there was no hope for them to flee or call for help. Icarus had made sure the less bull-headed children had known this.
The guards that had been hired would be slightly obligated to search for them, but the only real hope they had was the knight who had saved Icarus.
The smell of sea salt was heavy in the air; they seemed to be nearing the coast.
Peering through one of the small slots in the side of the carriage, Icarus saw people milling about. The other children stood up. It took a few seconds to register, and several of them began shouting and banging on the walls, calling for help.
Some people turned but just looked annoyed rather than concerned. The carriage slowed and came to a halt. Icarus's eyes widened, and he turned and shouted at the others to stop, but they didn't listen.
The door was ripped open, a large, cloaked man cracked his whip and shouted, "Get out of here now!"
The children shielded themselves as best they could and left the carriage.
A wooden Podium stood, and the children were forced onto it. A crowd began to gather around, and talks started to be formed regarding prices.
Icarus suddenly realised this was a slave market. These were common in the East, thanks to Tutor Daniel for not sparing the more brutal details of the world.' Icarus thought
Slaves were used for manual labour or adventuring in this world; they were typically not used for pleasure in this world, thankfully, as brothels were very common and catered to all pleasures.
The saving grace was that very few would pay for a prostitute with the brand of a slave.
Bidding began, Icarus was first up, and he got several offers from dock workers, shipwrights and other men who looked like manual labourers.
Finally, when no new offers were made, a man stepped up and made an offer slightly above the last. He looked more noble, and complaints were heard about the rich always getting the good slaves.
Nevertheless, he was sold to him, Master Valerius.
Master Valerius was a silver-haired man in his 60s. He sported fancy clothes and wore glasses on the bridge of his nose; he walked with a slight limp and held a cane in his left hand.
As they left the crowd, Valerius spoke to Icarus, "You will understand this soon. The rules you must know from now on are as follows."
The slave code consisted of 10 commandments
1:speak when addressed
2: do anything you are asked to do.
3: Do not look your master in the eyes.
4: use proper terms, "master, grace, lord."
5: Do not leave your master's view when accompanying them
6: When told to stay somewhere by your master, do not venture out of the area.
7:do not lie to your master or hold the truth from them.
8: Protect your master and do not turn a blind eye.
9:Kill for your master.
10:die for your master.
Valerius finished explaining. "Do you understand?"
Icarus nodded, "Yes, Master." He felt that he had already been a slave, so this was relatively easy for him; he was still angered and had no intention to obey these for long.
The pair walked into a tent, inside a masked man stood, he held a smouldering iron brand, a glowing white-hot sigil of a cross at the tip.
Icarus' eyes widened, and Valerius turned to him, "Sit."
Icarus did not respond. Valerius frowned, "ah I forgot, this is the mark of the chained. If you break one of the commandments 1-8 when this is on you, you will feel severe pain. When you break commandments 9 or 10, however, you will die. Of course, after you complete the tenth commandment, you will be free."
He smiled encouragingly and patted Icarus on the back, before he could react, the burning mark was shoved into
His throat, he gasped as his flesh melted and bubbled away.
His eyes widened, blood vessels and nerves straining.
"ARRAGGAGAGHSHHGGGGAG!!!!!"