Jin looked at Gus.
He was wearing a long-sleeved brown shirt and dark brown pants. He had a very thin neck. The shirt clung loosely to his frame - although he wasnât malnourished or anything, he was still not in the best shape he could be.
Jinâs eyes went to the boyâs hand. The tally was there - it was covering the whole of his handâs back - the sealerâs iron pressed on his skin like a coin pressed into wax.
The mechanism of owning people, and the boy standing here being owned - everything was left out in the novel.
It made him realize something.
The gaps in the story, it turned out, were where the actual people lived.
âAnd where I live now.â
Jin let out a breath he hadnât entirely noticed he was holding.
"It would be easy," Sir Gareth said behind him. "Whoever sold him did not think him worth a sealerâs fee. Fortunate. Unmaking a Sigil and freeing a bound slave is neither cheap nor pleasant, and it needs the masterâs willing hand. But bought slaves only need paper and ink."
âFortunate?â
Jin looked at the boyâs hand and felt something cold move through him that had nothing to do with the wind.
âSomewhere in a slaverâs ledger, someone looked at this kid and decided he was worth so little that it wasnât worth the money to properly owe him. They priced him below the cost of his own chains....and that is the only reason he still has a future.â
If one merchant, one steward, one bored clerk had valued Gus at slightly more than nothing - if anyone, anywhere, had spent the silver - the sigil would be sitting on his nape right now, and whatever the fate he would have had...Jin couldnât imagine.
He was starting to understand how this world worked.
"Whatâs the procedure, Sir Gareth?"
"A deed of manumission, young master. Your name, his name, a declaration of release, your signature before a witness of standing. Once the deed is in his hands, he is a freeman under imperial law. Then the deed is registered at an administration office, and the counterbar is struck through his tally, so that his freedom is written on him as well as on paper. Lord Ferris keeps a registrar. It can be done before we depart." Sir Gareth paused.
"But...may I ask why? The boy serves you well as he is. Freeing him changes nothing about his duties, and it costs you an asset."
âAn asset.âEnjoying the story? Read on at novelŃing.com.
There was no cruelty in the question Sir Gareth asked, and that was the worst part. Sir Gareth was a decent man, asking a completely reasonable question by the standards of this world.
Jin could have explained. Something about how the word asset should never be used on a person, about equality, rights, or something else.
To be honest, Jin himself had spent his whole previous life as a slightly better-fed version of the same thing.
But he didnât argue.
"Because I want a servant I chose," Jin said, "and who chose me. Not one I own. A man who follows you because he decided to is worth ten who follow because they must."
Sir Gareth looked at him for a long moment,
"....as you say, young master."
⧠⧠â§
They did it in a small study Lord Ferris lent them.
Jin wrote the deed himself.
I, Encrid Gannon, fourth son of Duke Aegis Von Gannon, hereby release the boy known as Gus from all bonds of slavery, wholly and without condition, from this day forward.
He signed it.
Sir Gareth signed beneath as witness.
Through all of it, Gus stood by the door and said absolutely nothing. He had followed them in with a blank and careful face.
He watched the quill move across the paper as if it were happening to someone else.
Jin folded the deed, stood and held it out.
"Take it.:
Gus looked at the paper, then at Jin, then at the paper again.
"...Young master, I donât understand."
"There is nothin to understand. Youâre free. Take it before my arm gets tired."Enjoying the story? Read on at novĐ”lping.com.
Gus took it.
He held it in both hands, with the exaggerated care like he was holding a birdâs egg, and red it. His lips moved slightly as he went through the words. Then he read it again from the top.
"You can keep working for me if you want," Jin said. "For pay, this time. Or you can walk out of this manor and go anywhere in the empire, and no one can stop you. Thatâs what the paper means. Itâs your decision. You have time to think about-"
"Iâll stay."
He answered before Jin finished the sentence.
Gus was still staring at the deed. His hands began to shake, very slightly, and he pressed the paper against his chest to make them stop. When he finally raised his head, his eyes were wet and furious about it, and his voice cracked in the middle.
"Iâll stay, young master. Iâve thought about it."
âThat was four seconds of thinking,â Jin wanted to say, but his own throat felt tight for some reason, so he just nodded.
"Fine. Then your pay starts today. Donât ask me how much it is, because I havenât decided, and Iâm currently poor."
Gus made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, and turned his face away to deal with it privately.
"Tomorrow morning we see Lord Ferriâs registrar," Jin added, to the back of the boyâs head. "Get the counterbar struck. Then itâs official."
Gus nodded without turning around. His thumb had found the tally on his wrist and pressed against it, hard, as if checking that it still belonged to him.
âIâve done what I can,â Jin watched him hold the paper. âBut the mark will stay forever, and heâll carry it to his grave.â
And there was nothing they could do about it.
A bitter taste filled Jinâs mouth as he cursed the author for writing such a setting, and thatâs when it happened.
[ ⊠Minor Narrative Event Detected ⊠]
[ The fate of an unwritten character has been permanently altered. ]
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