Dead

ERROR

The required conditions have not been met: target's authority level too high.

EXCEPTION_NOT_HANDLED

**

[Will bending] failed

[Limitations] failed

**

[Slavery Contract] could not be established.

Yeah, I thought so. No surprises here.

I shifted my gaze to Cottontail, who also received the slave collar. Judging by her lack of reaction, I'm guessing it doesn't have much effect on her either. Completely unaware of that, the slavers exchanged proud grins. They had no way to guess the collars weren't effective against us.

"Perfect! Excellent additions to our stock!"

"And they seem quite the obedient type too!"

"The others are going to be delighted when they hear about that!"

"Kiddo! Put them with the others!"

Leaving his seniors to boast about their recent catch, the young boy invited us to get up.

"Come with me, please," he asked politely.

He led the way a bit further into the camp, as Cottontail and I followed him in silence. A few moments later, the boy stopped. Surrounded by slaves and tents, this part of the camp didn't seem so different from the others, but we had walked for a while, so I'm guessing we're somewhere in the center. The boy turned around, taking a knife out of his pocket. With the slave collars' on, there was no longer any use to keep us tied, so he extended his arm to cut the ropes around our wrists.

"Sorry about that," he apologized one more time.

His mission accomplished, the boy turned around and disappeared into the camp, leaving us behind.

Finally left unsupervised, I inspected my surroundings. The slaves around us had been eying us with wariness ever since we arrived, but the moment the slaver boy disappeared, the tension somehow relaxed. I, on the other hand, was growing worried. Remembering the reason why I was here, I couldn't help but wonder how I was going to find Axis' parents among all these people.

I did ask Axis for information about his mother during the journey, information that could help me find her. But he simply said she was of average height, that her hair was black, long and straight, and that she had hazel eyes. That fits the description of about one fifth of the women here. I did know Troy though. He looked like your perfect average human male and had no particular features either, but at least, I knew his face. I would be able to recognize him if I saw him.

"Are you alright?" I heard a voice suddenly speak up.

Turning in the direction of the voice, I noticed a young woman looking at me, her eyes full of concerns.

"Are you alright?" she repeated, a little bit louder this time. "I know it must have been scary, but you're okay now."

I blinked a couple of times, a little bit confused, as a few other slaves approached.

"It's going to be fine," one of them said, "as long as you don't fight back, they're not going to hurt you."

"You're not alone," another added, "we're with you."

Remembering the collar around my neck, I realized they were trying to reassure me. But before I could answer anything, someone else spoke first.

"What are you guys doing? Isn't she a noble?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," the young woman said, "we're all lumped together in the same situation anyway."

But the man clearly disagreed.

"Just because she was enslaved, it doesn't change anything," he growled, "you know how nobles are. She's not like the rest of us."

"Gale," the young woman called out, "she's not the one who put that collar on you. She's just a child."

The man named Gale clicked his tongue in annoyance, as the woman turned her attention back on me.

"Don't mind him," she tried to ease my mind with a soft smile, "he has a grudge against nobles."

Yeah, I can see that.

"Don't take it personally," another slave advised, "he ended up here because he pissed off some big shot."

"How about you mind your own business?" Gale snarled.

But his comrade ignored him.

"We all have our own history," the young woman added. "It doesn't matter where we came from. Now, we all share the same fate. We need to support each other."

She was looking at me, but her words were clearly directed to Gale. Gale understood that perfectly.

"I don't know how you got here, and you don't have to tell us," the young woman continued, "it's going to be fine, now."

This time, she was addressing herself to me, and since she seemed to expect a reaction from me, I nodded my head.

"Uh, okay…"

Her face brightened as a soft smile spread on her lips.

"Don't worry, it's not that bad," she said, patting my head.

I know she was trying to reassure me, but it's true that it wasn't as bad as I thought. I had expected a bunch of depressive slaves, resigned to their fate, but hope hadn't left most of these people. A few children could be seen playing with each other while the other slaves were clustered in small groups, chatting together. I think there were even some families here. They definitely didn't seem like people to be sold. It was probably the strong solidarity that had developed among them which helped them withstand the situation.

"Oh, my name is Clarice, by the way," the young woman introduced herself. "What should we call you?"

"Aileen," I responded, "my name is Aileen."

Clarice flinched as I revealed my name. And she wasn't the only one. I received a few curious gazes as the slaves around us interrupted their conversation.

"Your name is Aileen?" Gale repeated, his eyes squinted. He seemed determined to ignore me until now, but my name somehow peaked his interest.

"Yes?"

He exchanged a silent, but meaningful look with Clarice.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, concerned about the lasting silence.

"It's nothing," Clarice dismissed with a smile, returning her attention to me, "it's not important. What about your friend?" she asked, shifting her gaze to Cotton. "She seems awfully quiet."

Unwilling to meddle with others, Cottontail hid behind me. She hadn't said a word until now, and I knew this wasn't going to change.

"Cottontail is a bit shy," I lied, "she's not good with strangers."

"I see, we won't bother her then," Clarice gave the fox girl a compassionate look. "Try to get accustomed to this place, though. You don't know how long you'll be here, so try to make yourself comfortable, okay?"

The young woman was being unusually friendly and caring. It really didn't seem like I was in a slavers' camp.

"You're quite lively for someone who is about to be sold," I noted.

But Clarice didn't reply. She simply gave me a half-smile.

"If you guys need anything, let me know," she then added, changing the subject.

Well, 'we all have our own history,' huh? Fine, I won't push it any further. It's not my problem anyway. I have my own issues to deal with here, anyway.

"Actually, there might be something you can help with," I remembered.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking for someone," I explained. "Do you know of a woman called Olivia? She should be in her thirties."

As Clarice tilted her head, pondering, I continued.

"She has hazel eyes, and her hair is black, long and straight. She's about one meter and sixty tall, and she's been there for a few months now."

Unfortunately, after carefully thinking about it, the young woman shook her head.

"It doesn't ring a bell," she apologetically said, before turning to her friends. "Guys?"

"Nope."

"No idea."

"I do know of an Olivia, but she's blond and she's in her twenties."

Yep, I thought so.

"Are you sure she's here?" Clarice inquired. "If she's been there for months, she could have already been sold."

"No, it's very unlikely, she should still be here."

I brought a hand to the nape of my neck, a long sigh escaping my mouth.

"Sorry we couldn't help," Clarice apologized.

"It's fine, I didn't think it would be that easy to find her anyway," I tried to ease her mind.

With a name as common as Olivia, I knew I wouldn't find her immediately. And with no surname and no particular features either, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. I might have to ask every single person out there if they know her to find her. Fortunately for me, Axis' mother wasn't the only person I was looking for.

"What about Troy?" I asked. "Do you know of a guy named Troy?"

If Olivia is a relatively common name, Troy is already rarer. There might be a couple of thousands slaves here, they aren't millions either, so if anyone has heard that name before, it's highly likely to be my guy.

"He's about this tall, brown hair and…"

I started describing Troy, but soon realized that it wasn't necessary, as Clarice's wide eyes revealed that this name did sound familiar to her.

"You know him?" I inquired.

"Troy, is it?" The young woman averted her eyes, a forced smile playing on her lips. "Well, Troy is… Umh…"

"He's dead," Gale interjected.

Shit.