tales of blue and red

Then there was silence. Erys didn’t expect anything in the coming moments. Pain and suffering were the only guarantee in his life, that and the eventual death he was sure to be driven to by his merciless owners. His thoughts were consumed by thoughts such as these, he barely noticed the pause of silence. Again, debating if he should remain at attention or return to his work. Then the man turned on his heel and left, his gruff voice directed away from Erys, and he didn’t quite catch what had been said. This wasn’t the most bizarre encounter he had ever had, and at face value didn’t seem as world changing as it truly was.

Before the slaver could put him back to work Erystotle was being shuffled up and outside with a load of some of the other property within. Erys kept his head down, followed along timidly, but was stopped when he tried to follow into the barracks. Erys looked up to find the same man from before and hurriedly returned his gaze to the ground. This was the King of Fenmyre. The names weren’t entirely unknown, while he worked he’d caught snippets of conversation.

”It is understood, your Grace.” He bowed his head in acceptance, not that he had room to argue anything. He did looked up slightly as he introduced himself, ”Erystotle Atlas.” He offered and quickly lowered his gaze again. ”How may I serve you?”