A timid knock sounded at the door.

Tia stiffened as the Master slipped by and, without a word, swept the front door open. She fought the urge to turn and stare with curiosity. Instead, she calmly placed the utensils in their proper places. Mommu laid with care the basket of hard bread in the middle, next to the bowls of broth, and stepped back, hanging his head quietly. Tia joined him, also staring down at the freshly dusted stone floor.

“My dear boy,” the Master’s kind voice said. “Do come in. We have just prepared dinner.”

“You are very kind, sir,” murmured the boy. His voice was husky as though he hadn’t used it for many years, but there was an underlying timbre to it. Mommu nudged Tia: she had been sucking her cheeks with burning curiosity for the past five minutes and her impatience was beginning to show. She sucked in a breath to calm herself and bared her teeth pointedly at her comrade.

She was surprised to not hear a rustle of cloak. She peeped at him through her eyelashes and saw tattered, brown villagers’ clothing too large for a skinny frame. Master had never invited street urchins home for dinner before. She looked away again.

“Please be seated, my friend,” said Master Anu. The newcomer pulled out a chair, knocking a leg against the stone floor once before sitting down hastily. “These are my apprentices, Mommu and Tiamat.”

“Grace be with you,” they said together. The boy didn’t respond.

They waited until the Master sat down before they took their seats at the table. Tia risked another look at the guest. He had long, dirty hair that covered his eyes and half of his face so it was difficult to make out his features, reminding Tia of the baker’s dirty shaggy dog. His sleeves hung like holed curtains and he had callused hands and trembling fingers. If he wasn’t so skinny, he could perhaps have worked on the docks, rough and dusty.

“Grace be with you,” the Master said in agreement. He passed the bread around and together they ate. Tia crossed and uncrossed her legs beneath the table impatiently, although she was careful to keep her face stoic and calm. She lowered her head as she bit into her cheese, listening to the Master’s polite conversation with Mommu.

“It is the morrow that you begin your Rathian lessons, is it not, Mommu?”

“Yes, Master,” the boy replied, smiling. “Mister Asaru has kindly accepted me as one of his students in return for a Hearing, so that he may know when to sow his seeds.”

“As long as you keep up with your Casting studies, I am happy with your pursuits.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I do not see why you would want to learn a dialect nobody speaks,” Tia objected. Mommu said nothing. “And how come I cannot follow you into Capital, Master, in my free time? I keep up with my studies.”

She could almost hear the sigh in her Master’s heart. She couldn’t help it; she’d wanted to travel and see the world so much. Being her Master’s apprentice was a great honour, but for the past ten years since she’d started learning Wind magic, she had never left Mooncliffe. In fact, she had never left Mooncliffe in her life. Hearing the Master’s tales of travel and his summons to exotic, far-off lands was exciting and alluring and she was growing tired and bored by the city. Despite Master’s insistence of her staying inside the house, she had snuck out more often than she should; and she knew that. She wasn’t fully satiated by what Mooncliffe had to offer. No, there must be something greater out there for her.

“One day when you are no longer my pupil, Tiamat,” he said with finality, “then you may choose your own paths. Until that point, I would rather you learn from my mistakes than make your own. You are still a child.”

“To a Master, an apprentice is always a child,” she said under her breath. The Master sighed and carried on eating. Tia could feel the newcomer taking furtive glances at her, and heard a quiet intake of breath. She looked up, defiantly, and he averted his gaze again. They ate in silence.

Master Anu offered the boy another helping of the broth. A droplet of the hot liquid splashed onto his wrist as the Master poured it and the boy almost dropped the bowl. He fumbled and caught it, lifting it in the process to avoid spillage and the sleeve of his long shirt slid up to his elbow, exposing an ugly weal on his right wrist: the insignia of Dernexes.

“A slave!” Tia hissed, leaping to her feet at once. She saw the Master’s features darken. “What are you doing, Master? We cannot house slaves!”

“Tiamat,” the Master’s voice had a steely edge.

“The king’s guards will prosecute us, Caster or not!” she spluttered in horror. “You’ll be charged with treason!”

“Tiamat.” His voice had a steely edge that made the girl bite her lip from her next exclamation. She remained on her feet, fists trembling and face flushed. Mommu had also stiffened at the discovery although he was much less vocal than his colleague. “I will ask you to refrain from such talk at the table.”

Her eyes burned with indignation. The old man’s pale blue gaze stared her down. She had spoken out of turn, she knew, but didn’t Master know the law? To treat a slave as an equal, much less house a slave belonging to another man… He must. If words got out, Master’s reputation would be ruined and the three of them would likely spend the next five years in jail.

And after the events earlier that day, she couldn’t help but feel ill at ease with one at their table.

After dinner, the remainder of which was spent in silence, her Master summoned her over to his work desk. Mommu had taken to his evening chores and the slave – the guest – had followed him.

“Sit down, Tiamat,” said Master Anu, gesturing to one of the chairs next to the fireplace. The girl perched herself on the edge of it, gripping the thighs of her trousers tightly, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames that she herself had made hours before. “I ask you for understanding of and respect for my decisions. I know it’s difficult – no, wait, hear me out–” he held up a hand as she opened her mouth. “ – but Enlil, currently, has no Master. As far as the guards are concerned, he does not exist. He is as much of a free soul as you or I, if it were not for that forsaken brand upon his wrist. Would you deny a man of his freedom?”

“It is… wrong, to treat a man as a slave,” she admitted after a pregnant pause, eyes downcast. “I do not know the ways of the outside world, Master, but I know in my heart it is wrong for a man to live a life deigned to serve another or risk punishment by death. But that is not why I object,” she implored, green eyes gazing at the old man, “it is against the law, Master.”

“If loving Mommu were a crime, would you love him any less?”

She shook her head. “Of course not, Master, but if you were caught…”

 “I will make adequate preparations so that Enlil’s… situation is not immediately obvious to anyone who meets him.” The Master interlinked his fingers, resting his elbows atop his opened scrolls and surveyed his young apprentice gravely.

“And then? He is to stay with us?” Tia was unsure how she was to act around the new addition. She’d had little contact with the greater outside world, and had few conversations with anyone other than Mommu or the Master.

“That is his choice. He will stay the night and then advise us of his decision in the morning.”

Tia said nothing. The Master peered at her, his eyes gentle despite her behaviour.

“I apologise for my actions, Master,” she said, with barely concealed reluctance. The words felt foreign on her tongue. He smiled at her as she fidgeted, feeling uncomfortable. “I have nothing against the – Enlil – personally. I respect your actions in its entirety also. I was just surprised, that is all.”

“And that is understandable, my child,” was his reply. There was another pause. “Is there something you wish to tell me, Tiamat?”

Her heart palpitated as cold sweat broke out.

“N-no, Master.”

She kept her head down, but she could feel the Master’s eyes scrutinising her.

“Very well. Please go make acquaintance with Enlil. I have a feeling that he will be with us for quite a while.”

With that, Tia knew she was being dismissed. With a stiff bow, she exited the Master’s study area. She clutched the front of her pale blue tunic, deep in thought as she strode past the open wooden door and outside. The chilled summer night breeze swept past her cheeks, lifting her brown hair off her face.

With a sigh, she gazed past the short stone fence surrounding their hilltop residence, past the farmers’ crops and down the rocky hill towards the main stem of Mooncliffe. With its tiny dotted lamps hanging around the centre and people still bustling about, it was like a large colony of colours streaming around and bumping into each other. She could hear the buzz of people even from this distance. But that lively, cheerful sound no longer sounded delightful to her ears. Beneath the happy, purposeful day-to-day life was an open market of slavery where people were taken against their will to serve a lifetime of hardship and despair, where risking their lives to escape that sentence was worth everything, and where death was the ultimate price one way or another.

Suddenly, the outside world did not seem as exciting or beautiful as it used to.