Well, I guess I’m going to hell.

"Sorry," I apologized, a little bit guilty of making him suffer.

"It's fine," he smiled, "if I'm going to die, I might as well laugh a little bit."

He seemed quite tranquil with the idea of dying.

"You're not injured enough to die."

"Kid," the stranger called, his smile not subsiding, "I'm sorry to destroy your optimism, but we are insurgents. We inspire rebellion. They're not going to let us live."

I stared at him silently for a few seconds. Unlike all the other slaves I met before, he wasn't just smiling to reassure himself, he was genuinely at peace with his own situation. Even in this state, he didn't seem miserable at all. I guess this is what people call having charisma. However, remembering my main objective, I soon broke eye-contact.

Whatever. Not your problem, Lynett, not your problem. Do not forget why you're here.

"Do you know of a guy named Troy?" I asked, my eyes wandering around. "I thought I would find him here."

"Troy?" the stranger furrowed. "Yeah, I do. Who doesn't? Especially after all the fuss he's made these past few weeks…"

He sighed plaintively, clearly not pleased to hear me mention Troy.

"That fool isn't here," he continued. "The slavers didn't want to take the risk of another rebellion rising, so they kept him separated from the others."

Great. So where is he, then?

The stranger fell silent, now displaying a hard expression.

"You don't seem to hold him in high regards," I commented. "Didn't Troy start the rebellion? As an insurgent, I thought you would respect him a bit more."

An ironic smile played on his lips.

"Respect?" he repeated. "Troy is nothing but a delirious fool who got dozens of us tortured by starting a stupid rebellion."

I frowned.

"Stupid? Didn't you rebel yourself?"

The stranger sighed.

"I rebelled because I'd rather die than have my free will stolen from me. And if I'm going to die, I might as well stir up trouble and bring as many of those shitty slavers as I can with me. But I certainly didn't rebel because I believed in Troy's stupid prophecy."

I blinked at him several times before an amused smile stretched across my face at his words.

"What's so funny?" the stranger inquired, noticing my sudden change of expression.

"So you're not much of a believer, huh?"

"Well, I'm just not going to wait for the Gods to descend from their divine throne to save my mortal ass!"

A small chortle escaped my mouth.

"I like you!" I told him.

Taken aback by my sudden declaration, the stranger's eyes widened. Then, a smug smile appeared on his face.

"I appreciate that, but I think you're a bit young for me, kid," he joked. "You also have an interesting choice of place to declare your love!"

I smirked.

"Yeah, I do find the sight and the scent of poop quite romantic."

I marked a pause, staring at him.

"You're pretty brave despite your circumstances, you take the matter in your own hands," I continued with a more serious tone, "I like people like you."

"Brave, huh?" the stranger repeated. "Some would say stupid."

"Maybe, but it's always better than doing nothing at all."

At least, not everyone has the courage to try to change things. I certainly didn't. Neither did most of those slaves. In a hopeless situation, it's much easier to wallow in self-pity.

"Alright! I've changed my mind!" I declared as I got up. "What's your name?"

The stranger gave me a half smile.

"Why? Are you going to write me a love letter?" he teased.

"Alright, quit it old man," I tried to suppress a smile, "I'm serious."

"Old man? Kids are so harsh these days. I'm still in my prime, you know?" he clarified. "Not even forty yet."

"Fine, young man," I patronized.

The 'young man' smirked.

"I'm Leven," he finally introduced himself.

"Leven?"

I raised my eyes to the sky, as I thought about something.

"Weird?"

"No," I shook my head, "interesting."

"Interesting?" Leven raised an eyebrow.

I grinned.

"Did you know? Leven means 'life' in Dutch," I explained.

Leven squinted his eyes, clearly not comprehending my words.

"In what?"

"It's not your place to die yet, Leven."

I placed my hands on his legs. Light erupted from my palm, startling the young man, as I let my mana flow in his body.

"What the-?!"

In a few seconds, the wounds on his legs closed, and the bruises on his body disappeared, leaving only blood trails as the last evidence of his previous state.

Leven inspected his body, completely dumbfounded. He palpated his face, his arm, his torso. Then, he pulled up his trousers, revealing his now completely healed legs. There was no trace of injuries left and the pain was gone.

"How…"

He looked up at me with bewildered eyes, slowly connecting the dots together.

"Do you want to stir up some more trouble with me, young man?" I proposed, giving him a meaningful look, as I extended my arm in front of me.

Leven blinked several times. Then, his brain having finally processed what I just said, a huge grin broke onto his face.

"Hell yeah!"

He took my hand and I helped him up.

"Perfect."

With Troy nowhere to be found, I headed towards the pen's entrance.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Leven advised as he saw me approaching the gate. "That gate is infused with magic, so if you touch it…"

I placed my palm on the gate and opened it.

"…Nevermind," he finished.

Freedom!

Finally stepping outside the pen, I could feel a new breath of fresh air filling my lungs. Well, not exactly. The nauseous smell was still quite present, but mentally speaking, it was already a huge relief to leave that unsanitary place. Cottontail and Leven followed me outside the pen, leaving the gate opened behind them for the other slaves to leave. However, they didn't budge, seemingly not even noticing they could now escape.

"Don't mind them," Leven said with a hard expression. "They'll leave when they're ready."

If they're ever ready…

The young man gave me a half smile, probably guessing what I was thinking, as he invited me to get moving.

Leaving the soulless slaves behind, we walked away from the pen.

"So, what are you planning to do now?" Leven asked with a bright smile, trying to lighten up the mood.

I cast my eyes up to the sky.

"Find their leader, I guess," I responded.

"Sounds like a good plan," Leven approved, although I'm not sure he said that seriously. "By the way, what should I call you?"

I shifted my gaze to Cottontail, who was still silently following from behind, without showing any signs of wanting to join the conversation.

"This is Cottontail," I introduced, "she's a bit reserved and not very talkative."

"Hi!"

Leven raised a hand in a greeting gesture, a friendly smile on the face, but as I had expected, Cottontail did not react. She didn't even give him a glance.

"A bit reserved, huh?" he repeated, emphasizing each word.

"Don't take it to heart."

"Alright, alright. What about you?"

"I'm Ail-"

Suddenly recalling that Troy had already spread my name around here, I stopped, not sure whether it was a good idea to use my real name anymore. However, as I thought about it, it didn't seem like such a bad thing after all. I turned to Leven, who was still waiting for me to finish my sentence.

"I'm Aileen," I finally introduced myself.

Leven flinched as I revealed my name. He stared at me for a few seconds, trying to read me, before a wry smile played on his lips.

"Well, I guess I'm going to hell."