Waking up the next morning, Grant felt as if the world was spinning. The dinner he had eaten was trying its best to leave his stomach. He tried to stand up and immediately his legs gave out underneath him. Weakly, he called out, hoping someone would hear him.

"Help!"

"Someone!"

"Help!"

"What in the hell is going on in there?" The innkeeper shouted, banging on the door. Grant heard a key being inserted in the door, before being flung open.

His breathing became shallow, and he felt sweat pour down his face. Calling for help had drained him of any energy he had left. The innkeeper ran up to his side and knelt down.

"What's wrong?! You drink too much?" The innkeeper badgered, putting his hand on Grant's shoulder.

Shaking his head, he tried to explain, but the room went blurry and dim. Grant could feel his consciousness fading. With his last bit of strength, he grabbed the innkeeper's foot and weakly uttered.

"He… lp…" Before everything faded to black.

When he woke up, he was covered in a cold sweat and his body felt achy and weak. Luckily, when he opened his eyes, the world didn't spin like it had before. Looking around, he noticed he was back in his bed, and the sun was setting. Don't tell me I slept the entire day?! Beside his bed he found a rusty looking cow bell on the nightstand. He picked it up and gave it a few shakes.

Clang, clang, clang!

After a few minutes of silence he was about to shake the bell again, before he heard footsteps outside the door. The innkeeper opened the door and peered inside, giving him a look over. He stepped inside, came to the side of the bed and looked down on him.

"Ah, you're finally awake, me and my wife were getting worried. Thought you might die."

Ignoring the man's comments, he weakly asked. "How long was I out for?"

"Well, you've been asleep all day. We couldn't keep watching you all day, so my wife put that old cow bell in here for you." The innkeeper answered, pointing to the bell in his hand.

"Oh, uh, thank you." Grant replied, putting the bell back on the nightstand. 

"Do you feel any better?" The innkeeper asked, looking at him with concern.

"Barely, is there a doctor or healer nearby?" He asked, knowing it was unlikely.

"Aye, there's a witch that comes here. However, she won't be in the village for another day or two." The innkeeper responded, rubbing his chin.

He was a little surprised to hear there was a witch all the way out here. Normally anyone who could use magic preferred to stay closer to the larger cities. Grant felt a little uncomfortable about having a witch heal him, but he had no other choice. His stomach let out a long rumble, interrupting his thoughts.

"Can I have some food and water?" He asked, a little embarrassed to rely on such a man.

"Aye, I'll get you some. I'll just put it on your tab." The innkeeper replied, before leaving the room.

***

They had spent a full day at the village now and showed no signs of leaving soon. Usually, when they reached a village, they would rest there for the night then have an auction early in the morning the following day before heading out. Since they'd parked the wagons directly behind the stables, all he could see was the forest. When Yotul came to feed them their evening meal, he asked her if something had happened.

"He sick." Yotul grunted with a smirk.

"Is it bad?" Ryo asked, wanting to know how serious it was.

"..." She looked as if she was trying to find the words but couldn't, and just shrugged instead.

"I go now, ordered to guard wagon." She explained, waving to him as she left.

"Oh, okay. Thank you for the food." He thanked her, bowing his head.

I wonder what will happen now? If the merchant died, what would happen to them? He wanted to talk to Robert about it all, but he was in a different wagon. Ryo could probably shout for the old man, but didn't want to do that. All he could do was sit there in the wagon's corner and look out between the iron bars.

No one in this wagon tried to bother him. After learning that he was kitsune, most people just avoided him. At least on the boat they had tried to talk to him, or greet him. Now though they averted their eyes and ignored his presence whenever he attempted to make contact. These people probably believed the rumors about his race… that he would bring bad luck or misfortune upon them.

The other problem was that the merchant had given him clothes to wear. While everyone else barely had else still had dirty rags covering themselves he had this luxury. Though the pants were too tight and made from rough leather and the shirt was was woven of coarse white linen with a deep cut in the middle that went almost to his navel, he was sure the others were jealous. When he'd first put the shirt on it'd looked more like a dress on him then a shirt. The merchant had even used a knife to cut some fabric from the bottom.

Ryo knew the reason he was given clothes was to cover up the scars on his body. Yet, the other slaves probably thought he was getting special treatment. Their occasional icy glares told him that much. He could try to explain to them, but decided against it. None of these people tried talking to him, so why should he make the effort?

The only thing that bothered him was not being able to talk to Robert. Ryo missed the old man's company and the stories he would tell. With the moon high in the night sky, he curled up, drifted off to sleep, and hoped that he could see Robert soon.

The next morning, his day started off the same as usual. Yotul brought them food, and he asked her for any news. She had nothing new to report, which made him nervous. What was happening out there? He thanked her for the food and she left him to go feed the other slaves.

As the day continued the people in his wagon were becoming increasingly anxious. No one had seen or heard of the merchant since he'd walked into the inn. Everyone knew the man was adamant about keeping a tight schedule. During the entire journey he had constantly reminded the drivers of the wagons to hurry. Now he was nowhere to be found. No one really cared about him, they were more concerned about themselves and what might become of them should he not return.

Everyone in the wagon was talking about what they ought to do. To most this seemed like it might be an excellent opportunity to make a run for it. None of them had a collar on, nor did they have any markings branding them a slave. All they had to worry about were the blood seals on the papers the merchant had. If they could somehow find the papers, they could all be free people again.

"I wonder what the old man thinks about this?" He mumbled to himself, as he continued to listen to the others.

***

"Horse shit." Robert said, tired of listening to all this talk.

For almost two full days he had listened to the rabble. At first it hadn't been so bad, but as time went on, it was becoming harder to listen to. These people thought it was going to all go their way. That when they escaped, they would be home with their families in no time. They didn't seem to care about the blood seals. Without getting rid of those, they would only live in fear, constantly on guard and worried that trackers were on their trail.

"What did you say?!" Kev turned around and snapped at him.

The people between him and Kev separated, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire between the two. Kev was a shorter man, with an even shorter temper. He reminded Robert of one of those angry little dogs in the dwarven realm. They always barked, but ran at the first sign of real trouble. On the ship, the man had always caused trouble by constantly trying to take charge of everyone. If it wasn't for Robert's presence the man would probably have gotten what he wanted.

The entire day he had listened to the man convince everyone to escape with him. Robert really didn't care what happened to them by that point, he just wanted them to know the truth. What Kev was suggesting would probably get them all killed. He would just tell him his thoughts and the rest was up to them.

"There are about three to four hundred gold coins worth of us sitting in these wagons. Do you really think that miser will let you go that easily?" Robert asked, shifting his gaze to everyone in the wagon.

These people prayed that the merchant wouldn't spend money to find them. To track a person using a blood seal, you needed someone that could use magic. A lot of the larger slaver guilds had them, but such services weren't cheap. A merchant would make little coin after they recaptured the slaves in this way. If they didn't manage to capture them, then they would take an even bigger loss. Most of the time they just sold the slave papers at a discount to someone. They would still take a loss, but it was better than nothing and a lot less hassle.

If someone had the time and the money, hunting down fifty slaves wouldn't be a problem. Given the merchant's lazy attitude, he guessed the man would probably sell the papers. The worst part of it all was a slave that was recaptured would be branded. They would also be labeled as the lowest form of slave, having even less rights than before. Even their children would be branded and treated as such. It wasn't a fate anyone would want. Yet, these folks seemed to race towards it, with little consideration for her terrible it would be.

"Hells! Most of you wouldn't make it to the next village before you were caught or killed." He told them.

Escaping as a large group sounded like a wonderful idea, but only to fools. Moving as a group was always slower and burned through more resources. None of them had any knowledge of the surrounding forests either, so one mistake in the woods and it would mean your death! Most of these people were farmers, who'd previously off the land. He thought they of all people would understand the dangers out there.

No, their best bet would be to escape when they were sold to someone. That way, if they escaped, the person who purchased them would be less likely to track them. Who would spend all that money to track down a single slave? They might send some normal trackers after you, but it was much easier to escape from them than some mage who held your blood seal.

"Beasts, monsters, fey! All of you should know how dangerous those woods can be. If you want to escape, I suggest you do it when you're sold to someone. That way…" He tried to explain, before being cut off by Kev.

"Old man, this is our best shout! You may have given up on life, but the rest of us haven't!" Kev scoffed, the man's face filled with rage.

"We can follow the road back and quickly make it to the coast. Then take a boat back to our homes!" A man by the name of Luke said, stepping forward.

This was the same person who had tried to take advantage of a woman on the ship, the same one he'd had to teach a painful lesson to. Just seeing the man made his fists ache. "I should have hit the man harder," Robert thought to himself. To his knowledge, Luke had behaved himself since the lesson. Not surprising then, that these two became friends. Birds of a feather flock together, or so they said.

"Is that so, brat? How will you feed yourself? How will you pay for that boat?" He shot back, focusing on the two men.

"I… we…" They stuttered, looking at one another.

"Just as I thought, they have no fucking idea what their doing," he thought to himself. Robert had seen such men before in the army, so confident in themselves but so deluded. These kinds of people thought they were immortal, which was funny because they were always the first to die on the battlefield. Acting impulsively like this only got people killed.

"Do you plan to rent your asses to the sailors? Even sailors have standards, so find another away." He goaded the two men, flashing them a provocative smile.

"You old bastard!" Kev cursed, taking a step toward him. Luke reached out and grabbed the man, stopping him from getting any closer to Robert. 

"Don't! Just calm down and ignore the old geezer." Luke said, eyeing Robert with fear.

"Whatever, you can stay and rot here. I would rather take my chances out there, than live as someone's plaything." Kev fumed, before turning around and heading to the opposite side of the wagon.

From the looks of those around him, he knew they'd already made their choice. There was no sense in trying to talk them out of it. All he worried about was what Ryo would do. He didn't think Ryo was foolish enough to leave with these folks, but he also knew that the temptation of freedom was hard to ignore. "Well, it's time to see if the lad can look at the bigger picture or not", he thought to himself.

***

"Gods be damned! Can you not do anything right?!" Grant fumed, clenching his fists.

For three whole days, he had been stuck in this shit hole village! With that leech of an innkeeper sucking his coin purse dry. Several times he had Yotul carry him to the wagons, only to make it as far as the hallway before losing the contents of his stomach. He was already so far behind schedule and at this rate he wouldn't make it to Therian on time. He couldn't afford to be late on his debt payment!

The only solace he could find was that from what Yotul had told him, the slaves were behaving themselves, which relieved some of his worry. Nothing good came from slaves with too much time on their hands. Yet, it was only a matter of time before they tried something funny. That damn witch was supposed to be in town by now!

"Where is that damn witch? Has anyone seen her?" He asked Yotul, wiping the sweat from his face.

"..." Yotul shrugged indifferently.

"Fucking tusker! Is that a yes or a no?!" He spat, picking up the cowbell and throwing it at her.

"No." She reluctantly replied, giving him a snarl.

"Go back to the wagons!" He ordered.

Without saying anything, she turned around and left, slamming the door behind her. If it wasn't for her intimidating size and menacing presence he would have sold her off long ago. When he got to Therian, he assured himself that he would look for a replacement for her. He was tired of her attitude, no matter how he punished her she never changed.

The innkeeper told him that the witch periodically visited the village. She came mostly to trade her medicine and services for food. He was told she would come in two days… but that was three days ago now! If she didn't come, then he wasn't sure what he would do. He had plenty of money, but most of it was needed to pay off debts. Grant couldn't afford to stay in this village much longer.

He had been a little worried when he heard she was a witch, but now that didn't matter. The problem with witches was that you never knew the extent of their abilities. Since they never went to a mage college, they had no rank. The only actual difference between witches and mages was the schooling they received. Those who attended a mage academy were more reasonable and civilized. While witches on the other hand were considered uncultured and wild, that was why some people called them "wild mages".

Dealing with any magic user was a pain in the ass. They were always erratic, often eccentric and would throw around their powers too freely. What he hated most was that even the weakest magic user could easily kill him without breaking a sweat, this made doing business with them dangerous to say the least.

He'd had a few dealings with mages in the past and had hated every second. Many of them needed slaves and always seemed to buy in bulk. Although one could always sell slaves to mages, he felt it wasn't worth it. A lot of merchants liked mages because of the magic items they could create. Those items could earn people a fortune if sold. Mages also needed plenty of materials to do their work and research. The drawback was how to do fair business with someone that could kill you with a single word? If you made them upset then you would be dead before you even knew it.

After his own experience and hearing similar stories from his friends, he tried his best to outright avoid them, unless he didn't have a choice. They might be rich, but it wasn't worth the hassle in his opinion. If he sold a slave to a farmer and it died the next day then at most the farmer would get upset, yell, and sometimes try to punch him. Magic users, however, would probably try to burn him alive on the spot. All he could do was hope the old woman wasn't some crazy forest witch.

***

"So is everything ready?" Ryo heard a woman whisper.

"Yeah, thanks to the knife we can pull two of the bars off anytime." A man softly replied.

"Have you heard from the others?" Another man quietly asked. 

"Yeah, tonight we will escape into the woods." The woman whispered.

"Are you going to go ask him?" The first man asked.

"No, if he comes with us it could ruin it." The woman coldly stated.

"I guess, but still…" The second man mumbled, before trailing off.

"Don't worry he'll be fine, you saw his clothes. I'm sure they will treat him real nice when we leave."  The woman remarked.

He knew they were up to something, but had been unable to get a clear look earlier. Somehow, someone had gotten ahold of a small knife and chipped at the wood around the metal bars. After a day and a half of work, they were now able to remove two of the bars. They apparently planned to make their escape tonight with the other slaves. Should I escape on my own? He wished he could speak to Robert about all of this.

Where would I even go? What would I do? He had never really given those questions any serious consideration until now. Ever since he'd become a slave, he'd always wanted to be somewhere else. But where was that somewhere exactly? What if he left and then Robert came later looking for him? Thinking about all the what-ifs, he decided it was probably best to wait and see if Robert came for him.

Maybe if he and Robert left together, they could go on an adventure just like the stories Robert had told him! The thought of going out and seeing the world with the old man warmed his heart. Robert often spoke about his travels and the freedom of the open road, and he didn't have any chains that held him down. Thinking about such a life made him question his own.

Even when he was back on the home island, his life had been rigorously controlled by the elders. Everyone on the island followed their words to the letter. The notion, let alone the question of freedom, had never really occurred to him back then. It wasn't until he became a slave that he began to think of what freedom really meant, though he really didn't know what it truly meant until meeting Robert.

When he listened to the old man, he tried to imagine himself in those stories - fighting monsters, seeing ancient temples, and tasting strange and delicious foods from across Illia. Maybe, one day, Ryo could also sit down and tell others of his own adventures. All he could do now though was wait patiently for nightfall.