Grey sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Azarus, I asked you to leave it in your workshop to prevent this exact situation.”

“Aye, well,” Azarus said, not taking his eyes away from me. “I forgot.”

Shaking his head, Grey turned back to me. “Nathan. Nathan! Please, look at me.”

Dragging my eyes away from the branding iron in the huge dwarf’s fist, I looked back down to Grey.

Grey met my gaze.

“Nathan, I promise you,” Grey said pleadingly. “I promise you that you are not in danger right now. Nobody is going to harm you. Please, sit back down so that I can explain our situation.”

My blood was still pounding in my ears from the adrenaline rush of seeing a branding iron again. I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing all those people from earlier getting branded by those dwarves, and I had no desire to go through that same experience. Still, something in me, maybe my gut, was telling me that at least Grey was trustworthy.

To a degree. Even though I was one hundred percent sure he gave me a false name.

Maybe my gut was just telling me I was hungry again.

Whatever.

I sat back down on the bed and clasped my hands after one last look at the branding iron before focusing back on Grey.

“Okay,” I said, controlling my breathing to tamp down my anxiety. “What’s up?”

Grey looked confused for a second before disregarding it. “So far, Nathan, I’ve explained to you broad topics. Where we are, very basic information on the System and Mysticality. You absolutely need to know these things as a Precursor-”

“You were right!? He’s actually a Precursor!?” Azarus interjected excitedly, staring at me with wide eyes. I noticed he had set the branding iron down against the wall. Uh. That’s not really something I’d expect from such an intimidating-looking guy.

Grey closed his eyes. “Azarus, please.” He said frustratedly.

“Right, right. I’ll be quiet.” Azarus said, wincing.

Taking a deep breath, Grey continued. “And although those things are terribly important, what matters most right now is the situation that we are all in. You,” Grey gestured to me. “Have been captured and sold as a slave to the lord of this estate. Magnus, Heir of House Savoy.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Azarus fold his huge arms at the mention of that name.

“I, however,” Grey continued, placing a hand over his heart. “Am a political prisoner that has nonetheless been collared and branded like any other slave. This was done in order to hobble me and prevent me from being able to interfere in…a variety of things.”

Grey scowled slightly.

For a moment, I could swear that the room darkened as much as his expression.

“At this point, I have no doubt that my imprisonment was something that was orchestrated by certain high-ranking individuals in both the Kingdom and the Principality. As such, once I was captured, I was handed off to the Prince of House Savoy, Magnus’s father, in order to hide me away. From what I understand, the decision was then made to ship me off to a remote location. Enter, then, both Magnus and Azarus.” Grey said, finally turning to look at Azarus.

“Right,” Azarus said, nodding. “I’ll take over from there.”

Azarus shoved off the wall he had been leaning on during Grey’s speech and walked over to the far wall. Picking up a chair, he carried it over and set it down on the right of Grey before sitting down. Leaning forward, Azarus stuck his hand out for me to shake.

Startled to see such a familiar gesture from someone that wasn’t even human, I automatically put my hand in his. When his hand closed around mine, I could feel the power in it. It not only felt like he could crush my bones to powder but that he could do the same to stone as well.

“Nice to meet ya,” Azarus started. “Azarus, House Savoy.”

“Uh, nice to meet you too? Nathan Hart.” I said, somewhat confusedly.

Nodding, Azarus dropped my hand. “Right, okay. So, my situation is a bit complicated.” He said uncomfortably. “Magnus, the shite, is my first cousin. When my uncle was thinking about who to hand Grey off to that he could trust, he thought of his own son. Who’s just as much of a dumb bastard sadist as he is. Well, the problem is that Grey might not stay a prisoner forever. He’s too powerful, too experienced. The Prince figured that if anyone could figure out a way to escape, he could.”

At that, I turned to look at Grey with a raised eyebrow. “Just Grey, huh.”

Grey just looked back at me with an innocent smile on his face, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Shaking my head, I turned back to Azarus.

Looking nonplussed at the exchange, Azarus nonetheless continued his explanation. “Well, he figured that if Grey escaped that he would naturally go home and tell everyone that the Savoy had been holding him captive and had even enslaved him. Hell, I’m not convinced that the people that set this whole thing up didn’t intend for Grey to get out sooner or later. So, the problem that the Prince had is that he still wanted to hold onto Grey, but didn’t want to catch the blame for it if and when he got loose. Enter ol’ Azarus, the designated scapegoat.” Azarus finished, pointing his right thumb to his chest.

“The plan,” Grey picked up. “As we have deduced, is to claim that I was captured by Azarus single-handedly, without the knowledge of House Savoy, in order to ransom me back later. Which is, frankly, ridiculous. Azarus does not possess either the ability nor inclination to do such a thing.”

“That ain’t gonna matter to either the Council or the Human High King though,” Azarus said with a frown. “Both sides would know that it’s horseshit. Both sides would know that it was just backroom dealing to get Grey out of the way. Publicly though, it would be a way to avoid war over House Savoy kidnapping the Hea-”

Grey coughed into his fist.

Azarus paused to look at Grey before realization stole over his face. “Right,” He nodded. “So, House Savoy would offer my head up on a platter to Herztal in order save face over holding Grey captive. All the while enjoying the benefits of holding him captive could bring. And I gotta tell ya, I ain’t too pleased to be anyone’s scapegoat, especially not that fucker Magnus’s.”

“Benefits?” I said, glancing at Grey. “What kind of benefits? Or can you not tell me that either?”

Grey winced slightly before answering. “I possess some small ability in both Enchantment and Alchemy. As you can see,” Grey said, turning his chair around and gesturing at the workbench against the wall. “I am given weekly quotas of artifacts and potions that I must accomplish by my ‘owners’.”

“Small ability, huh,” Azarus muttered under his breath disbelievingly.

Pretending that everyone in the room hadn’t heard him, Grey continued. “If I do not finish what I have been assigned, my handler, in this case, Azarus, is meant to punish me in whatever way he sees fit.”

“Oh aye,” Azarus said sarcastically. “I’ll whip ya good if you don’t make enough tat for the Prince to hawk and line his pockets with.”

“And I am lucky indeed for your forbearance,” Grey replied with a nod.

“Okay,” I said. “I get some of that. I have some questions though, ‘cause that sounds like a lot of assumptions.”

“Feel free to ask,” Grey said.

“First, if everyone is so certain Grey is going to escape sometime, why haven’t you yet? If he’s so badass, why doesn’t he just blast his way out? Second, if this Prince is so certain that Grey is going to escape, why would he put him in easy reach of his son? I mean, I don’t know about you Grey,” I fixed my gaze at Grey. “But I don’t know how happy I’d feel with my slave ‘master’.”

Azarus and Grey exchanged a glance at that.

Grey coughed and then answered me. “To begin with, we don’t know why Magnus was given my metaphorical leash. As you say, it’s unusual for the Prince to risk his Heir in this manner. It’s far more in his character that he would hand me over to one of his underlings and let them catch the blame for his misdeeds.”

“As for why I haven’t escaped, it is because I can neither physically nor magically do so in my state,” Grey said with visibly buried tension. “As you can see, I no longer possess legs. I assure you; this is a recent development that was deliberately inflicted upon me. Presumably to make it more difficult for me to escape this trap.”

“Oh, Jesus…” I muttered, horrified.

“As it is, I’ll have to wait until I can escape to have them regrown. Truly, I never-”

“Wait, what?” I interrupted Grey. “Magic can do that? Just regrow limbs?”

Grey smiled kindly at me. “Indeed. It is an expensive and laborious process, but it is perfectly doable. I possess neither the ability nor knowledge of healing magic to do so myself, even considering this collar I have been forced to bear.”

“As for why I cannot simply ‘blast my way out’, as you so put it Nathan,” Grey smiled wryly. “That is due to the nature of how a slave bond works. They suppress both your Virtues and your Class, in a manner so that you are unable to utilize any skills or abilities you may possess, including Magecraft. However, they do not suppress one's Professions, as a slave without access to their Profession might as well be useless. As I am right now, I’m of little use. Luckily for you, the Awakening process is so fundamental to the System that it can temporarily bypass these restrictions. I’m likely the only person in a thousand miles that would have been able to Awaken you.”

“Furthermore,” Grey continued. “The collars that you and I are currently wearing are only one part of a functional slave bonding. The branding is the second part, using a specifically enchanted iron. They are useless alone, as neither function fully without the other.”

I nodded before pausing and considering. “Wait,” I said haltingly. “Wait a second. If they’re useless alone, and I’m only wearing a collar, then I don’t have this slave bond?”

Grey smiled predatorily. “Oh yes,” He practically purred. “In their haste to bring you to Azarus so that I could Awaken you, it seems Messrs Finly and Luca neglected to either brand you appropriately or supply us with the necessary iron. Truly, how sad. As it is, you are only a slave in a legal sense, Mr. Hart.”

I couldn’t help but feel relieved.

But…

“Okay then,” I started hesitantly, glancing at what was still leaning next to the door. “Why did you apparently have Azarus make a branding iron then?”

Grey’s smile vanished and I could see Azarus shift uncomfortably.

“Ah…”, Azarus rubbed the back of his head before looking away.

“Nathan, you must understand.” Grey began. “You may not be under a slave bond currently, but all that is required for you to be forcibly placed under one is to be discovered. It is not uncommon for slaves to be checked by the slave drivers or watchmen in order to root out potential infiltrators. They wish to prevent any of my allies from potentially rescuing me. After all, my presence in this settlement is an open secret among the dwarven populace. That’s why Messrs Finly and Luca even knew to come to Azarus in the first place.”

“So, the plan Grey and I thought of,” Azarus picked up, speaking for the first time in a while. “Is that you need a dummy brand.”

Azarus gestured over in the direction of the brand he had brought in.

“That garbage is just a piece of shaped pig iron. It doesn’t have the slave enchantment on it, and we ain’t gonna put it on. Your average flatfoot can’t tell the difference between an actual enchanted brand and a fancy-looking scar.”

“But what you’re saying is that you still want to brand me,” I said, tensing up.

“Nathan, please, calm yourself,” Grey said soothingly. “I will not lie to you. Yes, we believe that placing a dummy brand on you is the best way to protect you from a full slave bond. However, we aren’t monsters. We do not intend to brand you as if you were a common unfortunate slave. Azarus, if you would?”

“Alright.” Azarus nodded before getting up out of his chair. He walked over to Grey’s workbench before opening a drawer and taking out three bottles and carrying them back over to Grey. When he did so, I could tell that each of the bottles were filled with differently colored liquids. One liquid was midnight blue in color, one was yellow, and one was red.

“This,” Grey said, holding up the bottle with a blue liquid in it. “Is a potion of sleep. We intend for you to be asleep during the process, in order to make the ordeal easier for you. The other two potions are meant to numb the area that the brand will be applied to, and to heal the brand afterward.”

Grey showed me the yellow potion and the red potion respectively.

“These two will need to be applied to the area that is to be branded, in order to be most effective.”

“So, if I agree to this, I won’t feel it at all?” I said, relaxing somewhat.

“Indeed, Nathan. We truly believe that this is the best way in order to protect you from being constrained by a slave bond.” Grey said compassionately.

“And hell,” Azarus interjected. “It’ll just be a scar when we’re done. Nothing stopping you from getting it healed if we ever get out of here.”

I leaned back on my hands. “Escape, huh. You’ve mentioned that before. You think we could pull it off?”

Grey and Azarus exchanged a glance.

Grey cleared his throat. “Well,” He started awkwardly. “Right now, any plans for escape are a tad unclear. So far, we have several irons in the fire, so to speak, but nothing firm. It is actually your presence that has given us some small amount of hope, young man.”

“He’s right,” Azarus nodded. “Precursors are supposed to be able to do some unusual shite once they’re trained up. So, general idea is to get you leveled up a bit, teach you a thing or two, and hope you help grease the wheels.”

I stared off into space for a few moments.

They were depending on me to pull some kind of deus ex machina out of my ass, huh. Let’s pin all of our hopes on the mysterious ‘Precursor’ that we just met. Not exactly prime plan material, right there.

We were so fucked.

“Okay.” I sighed eventually, leaning back forward. “Fuck it. Let’s do it. I’ll let you brand me. How do we do this, and where do you need to put it?”

Azarus untensed his shoulders while Grey let out a slight sigh of relief.

I raised an eyebrow. “You two look pretty relieved for something that was mainly to benefit me.”

Azarus rubbed the back of his head again. “Ah well,” He said. “What we didn’t tell you, ‘cause we didn’t want to put too much pressure on ya, is that I could have gotten into some major shit with Magnus if it was discovered that I was harboring an unbound slave.”

“Yeah?” I said curiously.

“Yeah,” Azarus replied seriously, dragging his index finger across his throat.

Ah.

“If I may,” Grey interrupted. “We’ll need to place the brand on the back of your left shoulder, Nathan. If you would, I would appreciate you taking off your shirt and then drinking the potion. After that, Azarus and I will begin the procedure.”

“What, here? In this room?” I said surprised, looking around. “Don’t you need something to heat it up first?”

There wasn’t an oven of any kind or even a fireplace in Grey’s room.

Azarus smirked. “Don’t ya worry about that. I’ve got it covered.”

Right, right, magic.

“Okay,” I said, standing up. I then took off my shirt and hung it over the foot of the bed frame. Sitting down, I found that Grey was holding the sleep potion out to me. I took it from him before taking a sniff of it experimentally. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I didn’t expect a magic sleep potion to smell like a pleasing mix of lavender and blueberries.

“The potion will take effect nearly immediately,” Grey said reassuringly. “Make sure to lay down directly after drinking it.”

I nodded before holding it up. “Well, bottoms up I guess.”

I knocked the potion back, trying to drink it in one go. Trying to at least, as it sure as hell didn’t taste like blueberries at all. In fact, it was pretty goddamn vile. I managed to drink it all without gagging, but it was a struggle.

As soon as I had drunk all of it, I was already starting to feel woozy. Somewhat drunkenly, I managed to lay back down without falling off the bed.

After that, there was only darkness.