CAPITULO VII: A rest in the middle of hell

Part I

—Did you know that all slaves like us descend from free people? And we are born already with the mark… the only identification we have. —she began

—Centuries ago, when the world split between those who had magic and those who didn’t, there was a hunt, the non-magical were branded, segregated, subjugated, we don’t even have surnames anymore, no birth certificate, no chip, no identity.

—Only the mark…

—A mark that binds you for life? —murmured Bayón, touching his chin.

—Exactly, tied to your master for life —she nodded—. If you change hands, the mark changes color or shape, but it never disappears. —Even if you die, your corpse remains bound.

Bayón listened to her without blinking.

—And that’s only the beginning, the worst part is that even among us there are castes, in this century slaves with magic have increased, you know?

—How? —Bayón frowned.

—Because nobles are not very selective about where they put their “magic” —she spat, bitter.

—Rapes, parties, body trafficking… In the end, with so much excess, some bastards are born with some power, but they remain branded, because power does not erase property.

—And with that kind of power they don’t try to rebel? —said Bayón, moving a little closer.

—That’s where we’re going, some do, but they don’t last long, they are called nomads.

—I see, I saw some posters with rewards for the nomads —said Bayón in a serious tone.

—Yes, it’s very common, if they’re caught they’re used as entertainment in private arenas, a slave with magic is an exotic attraction, a luxury.

Bayón clenched his fists.

The woman noticed and sighed, exhausted.

—That’s how this world is, no matter how much you run, if you were born with the mark on you… you’ll keep hearing the chains dragging.

The woman lowered her fan and lifted her gaze.

—Although the world always changes, nowadays anyone can fall here, “gladiator.”

—Even nobles, not even magic or status is a guarantee anymore, if the world tramples you hard enough… you end up in a cell. —finished explaining the human, bringing the fan to her face.

—In this modern era it is no longer measured between who has magic and who doesn’t —said a semi-human slave with a firm voice while doing squats with an Olympic weight, she had leopard ears and beautiful long black hair, feline amber eyes, and a restless tail that whipped with a wild rhythm.

It was like seeing a black leopard embodied in a woman.

She wore only a sort of skirt and a strip of cloth that crossed her voluptuous chest, revealing her firm abdomen, an extravagant beauty.

And around her neck, wrists and ankles, a collar and iron shackles with runes glowing blue.

Each movement made her shackles creak —Now everything is money…

—Purchasing power is everything: lineage, magic, religion... all that is old trash.

—Slavery and the mixing of lineages has gone on for so long, that even in this modern era there are once again citizens without magic, they are direct descendants of non-magical slaves and magical nobles who want to keep them, when they are born the government can erase their mark under certain rules.

—The only reason that can even be possible is if they descend from wealthy parents, only then are they accepted as legitimate children of the crown, non-magical creatures that are not bound to slavery.

—But that marked a new reality, all those nobles without purchasing power can fall down here… with us. —said the leopard girl as she did another set.

Bayón watched her from his central cell, to the right, she lifted the heavy weight with ease, sweating profusely without shame, as if the whole world was watching her… and she didn’t care.

To the left, the human slave summoned with magic a floating crystal plate, climbed onto it and sat cross-legged.

—Doesn’t matter, the world always has the same rules… —murmured Bayón in a hoarse voice.

—So as long as you have money you can escape hell, huh? —said Bayón confidently.

—As long as you have money? —the human laughed sarcastically —My first master was a very rich count, now he’s a slave in one of a duchess’s brothels.

—That damned bitch… just because my master made her angry by refusing one of her strange requests, that bitch was known as a sicko.

—Damn, even I once had piles of money to spend, the man trusted me so much that he even let me manage some of his money.

—It’s true that money is everything, but don’t fool yourself, status still means something, especially when it comes to those closest to the crown —said the human girl, pointing at Bayón with her fan.

Bayón snorted through his nose, not knowing whether to laugh at the absurdity of his situation.

—Well, thanks for sharing all this, I owe you one, you’re the first to bother answering me.

—What are you talking about? —said the human, hiding a smile behind the fan —That last bit of information wasn’t free, my friend Leopard has another fee.

The semi-human growled, without stopping her exercise, one more rep, then another, her sculpted abs rising and falling with each breath.

—Not for nothing I went around screwing the guards —added the human, giving him a cold, remorseless look —You gotta know how to move to survive, sorry handsome, but you were a little naïve.

Bayón shrugged disdainfully.

—I wasn’t expecting charity… maybe I don’t remember anything, but one thing is always clear, nobody gives anything without expecting something in return…

—Good philosophy —said the semi-human, not bothering to look at him —though a bit cliché.

—Well, in case you go whining to the guards… —added the human sweetly while playing with the collar around her neck.

—I can ask to have my friend Leopard put in your cell. What do you say, love? A bit of wild company?

Bayón pretended to think about it, then smiled subtly.

—That’s a prize or a “prize”… or maybe both.

He slowly turned his head toward the right cell, where the leopard girl looked at him for the first time, her expression cold, almost indifferent, but her gaze pierced him like a spear.

«If I let these bitches think they can intimidate me, they’ll never let me go,» Bayón thought as he smiled at the leopard girl.

—She’s totally my type —added Bayón with false confidence —I wouldn’t mind if she scratched me a little.

—Scratch you? —murmured the leopard girl, letting the weight fall with a heavy thud —In your dreams, you damn weakling, first build some muscle, with one swipe I’d split you in two.

—That’s the kindest thing anyone’s said to me in days —Bayón laughed, leaning against the glass of the leopard girl’s cell.

—Shut up, both of you —said the human through laughter —Or I’ll get jealous.

The three laughed, though for different reasons, Bayón knew they weren’t joking… but in that place, laughter was a breath in the middle of hell.

Part II

Bayón kept staring at the hallway of the cells, wrapped in the new sounds.

Women of overwhelming beauty whispered to the nobles from their glass cells, promising more than their lips could articulate, with phrases designed for desire.

Some spoke of “trial contracts” and “Premium experiences,” their voices liquid velvet, capable of loosening belts with just a murmur.

And the men, almost all of them, were manufactured bodies: perfect muscle, bleached smiles, shamelessly flaunting their gene packages, flirting with nobles who strolled with porcelain masks tilted as if observing livestock.

Bayón barely looked at them with indifference.

—Shit… they all look so extravagant, why don’t they realize I don’t belong here?... —muttered Bayón as he forced another set of sit-ups.

Each movement burned his abdomen, but he didn’t stop.

—You really are strange… —snorted the leopard girl from the cell to his right, her voice firm, even with her breath cut short by the effort of lifting weights.

The chain on the shackles of her ankles jingled with each repetition: —You know absolutely nothing, it’s as if you weren’t from here…

Bayón spat on the ground, not bothering to look.

—I’m just someone who doesn’t remember very well, the only thing I know is that I surely tried to escape to live apart from society… I ended up here because the police caught me, that simple.

«These bitches are too curious, I should watch what they know about me,» Bayón thought as he switched exercises to burpees.

The human on the left let out a mocking giggle, reclining on the crystal plate as if they weren’t all in a slave prison.

—Aha… and you, so tough and natural… Don’t you feel out of place?

—Maybe… —answered Bayón as he stood up and stretched his torso, making his vertebrae crack.

—The people in this place are sickeningly beautiful, some literally look made of plastic, on the other hand, some seem to have been born that way, they look quite natural, I wonder if their physique is real, I hardly see anyone training.

—Even with so much muscle, would they be stronger than me?...

The comment left a brief silence among the three, a dense, uncomfortable silence… too honest.

The human slave covered her lips with her fan, but couldn’t contain the crooked smile forming under the fabric.

—Uf… how dangerous —she laughed through her teeth, adding with a fake sigh —You excite me when you talk like an enlightened caveman.

Bayón didn’t answer.

He just looked at her for a moment, without hatred, without desire, without anything. «Damn… I let too much slip of what was in my head,» Bayón thought. «How uncomfortable…»

He didn’t say anything else, neither did she.

Only a faint echo of footsteps began to approach, and both averted their gaze, almost at the same time.

A noble walked with the calm of someone who had already decided which slave he was going to rent, and stopped in front of the three’s cell, observing them up and down, without disguise.

The leopard girl didn’t look at him, she simply picked up a dumbbell to do another exercise, ignoring the stranger’s presence.

The human girl greeted the noble flirtatiously as if she already knew him, while covering her expression of disgust with the fan.

And Bayón just stood still, staring at the noble, analyzing all his details, his porcelain mask shaped like a squirrel, his exaggerated clothes, with gold and diamond chains that looked so odd you’d think they were fake, everything about him screamed idiot.

The noble stayed one more second, but Bayón’s gaze was too intense, like someone watching something very entertaining on television.

The noble couldn’t take the pressure, looked away and then kept walking with a disdainful gesture as if he hadn’t lost the desire for what he had in mind.

—Looks like you weren’t to the client’s taste… HAHAHA —commented the human girl, laughing.

—Why were you looking at him like that? … it looked like you wanted to rent him… Pfff… that’s why he left —replied the leopard girl, trying to speak in a serious tone.

—… hehehe, just look at him, that guy really is weird, and for me that’s saying a lot, what kind of psychopath would have a squirrel mask. —said Bayón with a smile.

When the atmosphere between them was starting to relax, they were interrupted by a song.

The beautiful voice of the elf girl began to wrap around the background of the corridor.

The human girl frowned.

They weren’t words, they were pure notes, so perfect they seemed totally from another world.

A melody that did not seek to please, but to drag you into something… something hollow, something that hurt.

—What is that song playing…? —asked Bayón in a low voice.

—The dead one —answered the human sharply —Nobody knows why she sings, nobody knows how they allow her, she just… does it.

—And she’s never moved? or taken out of there? —said Bayón as he sat down and crossed his legs, to better appreciate the sweet melody.

—What for? She’s perfect like that, sets the mood —said the human, letting out a giggle while covering her mouth with the fan.

But just as she finished the sentence, a heavy silence descended over the cells.

Clack.

The sound of metal on the floor, the leopard girl dropped the dumbbell she was holding.

She said nothing, just slowly turned her face toward the human and… fixed her amber eyes on her; they were those of a beast, cold, piercing, a silent warning, but as clear as a claw strike.

The human tensed, the fan in her hand faltered for a moment in the air before covering her face again, like a shield of decorated feathers.

—Anyway… —she muttered —Let’s talk about something else, shall we?

Bayón noticed, he noticed everything, the change in the atmosphere, the retreat of the woman who earlier spoke as if nothing could touch her.

But he said nothing.

—And you? What are you doing here? —asked the human slave foolishly from the other side while throwing greetings and flirtatious glances at the nobles who passed in front of the cells, in an attempt to ignore the leopard girl.

Bayón looked at her for a moment, seemed to think whether it was worth answering.

—Paying for mistakes… with interest, I suppose. —he finally murmured.

Then he let himself fall against the pile of straw, interlacing his fingers behind his neck, as if nothing mattered.

But inside, his mind was already storing the scene with precision.

«That wasn’t just any look… there’s something with that one in the back, and the feline knows it.»

He wasn’t going to ask, not now.

Not because he feared the answer, but because he had already learned that, in that place, answers came loaded… with prices, and that answer might be too costly.

—Interesting neighborhood —commented Bayón with his usual dry tone —Each cell has people stranger than the last…

The human laughed sarcastically.

—And what right do you have to say that?, what mystery do you hide under those brown eyes, hmm? —she inquired, pointing softly at Bayón up and down with a playful finger. —Hey, muscles?...

Bayón didn’t answer immediately, he diverted his gaze to the nobles passing by, elegantly dressed with their stupid porcelain masks, watching as if they were at a circus of trained beasts.

—None important —he whispered in a low voice.

«What would someone who isn’t a walking secret say? I’m just a man who destroyed his world… haha nooo, that gives me cringe, shit, think, if I don’t say anything they’ll suspect me.»

—Well, if I had to tell one… it would be that I don’t have magic.

—Whaaat?! —Both girls exclaimed at the same time, with an incredulous echo.

—Then how did you become a nomad? And how did you cause that destruction in the city? —said the leopard girl, who for the first time had stopped exercising to come closer and look at Bayón.

Bayón raised both hands calmly, making a pacifying gesture.

—Well… partly it wasn’t my fault, most of the disaster was caused by another idiot with magic, the bad thing is I don’t remember anything about him or how we ended up fighting in the street.

He paused deliberately, looking at his own hands as if trying to reconstruct something lost —The bad thing is I don’t remember what he looked like, or how we ended up fighting in the street, I think the blows affected my memory.

«I could be anything in this life except a rat, who knows who that Torgann is?, but I have the feeling that someday we’ll have our rematch.»

—Although… I’m flattered you know so much about me —added Bayón, winking boldly, a rough way to divert attention.

The human girl held her stomach trying to contain her laughter. —Heh heh heh… you’re going to kill me… you caught her, kitty.

The leopard girl growled slightly, embarrassed, turning her back on both of them, her tail betraying her emotions and making her annoyance visible.

—You’ll have to excuse her, she’s a combat maniac —said the human girl while fanning her face, slightly blushing from laughter.

—It’s the first time she’s heard about a nomad without magic —said the human girl, regaining her composure.

—Although it doesn’t seem like Lord Cle’PPier knows about it… —she added in a lower voice.

With a softer tone, perhaps worried. —From what I heard from the guards… they’ll put you to fight in the gladiator arena, the Red Circle.

—It was by request, a private request… directly to the representative —she added, bringing her hand to her chin in a thoughtful gesture.

—Mmm… you’re more interesting than I thought —the human girl concluded, returning to her usual theatricality.

—In case you die soon… I’ll introduce myself formally: my name is Min’Ciel’A, and the grumpy cat over there is Ake’el.

Bayón stood up in the middle of his cell, looking at both women.

And he drew a sincere smile, brief, but real. —My ciela? And Ake’el? Pretty names…

—A pleasure to meet you —he said with a slight bow of his head. —My name is Bayón.

—And I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t plan on dying that easily.

Bayón raised his gaze straight into the shining eyes of Mi Ciela —At least not until I figure out what I’m doing here…

Min’Ciel’A didn’t answer, she only smiled.

Her fan once again covered her face like a curtain closing the scene.

Ake’el didn’t say anything either, but her alert ears never stopped moving, listening to everything.

Neither said it aloud, but they both felt it, that phrase carried a deeper weight, it sounded more like a threat than a statement.

From above, the night light fell straight through the skylight, clean, cruel, without comfort, as if the world had already decided, as if everything was already in its place… including him.

Bayón said nothing.

He turned his gaze outside the cells, and his eyes sank into the shadows of the walls; he could feel something hidden in the darkness staring back at him.

His world would never forget him.

He could pretend for a lifetime, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough in this place, the mark he left on his world was stained with a filth that no one could ever wash away.

A stupid man, one whose instinct outweighed his heart.

Because to be forgotten is to die in life, and he was trapped in a limbo that would clearly remind him of every one of his sins.