Error

Dust hung in the air, thick with sweat and fear. Error stood hunched over on the clay ground, brightly lit by the merciless sun. A muzzle of rough leather clamped tightly on his jaw, preventing him from making a sound. A collar, tightly fastened around his neck, was connected by a short chain to the hand of a huge guard. He was one of many – slaves offered for sale.

Fury raged in Error's eyes, carefully concealed behind a veil of indifference. He remembered freedom, open spaces, the wind in his hair… Now – a chain, a muzzle, humiliation. He didn't understand the language of his captors, but he felt their contempt perfectly well.

A crowd of onlookers appraised the merchandise. Fat fingers poked at the muscles, greedy glances slid over the bodies. Error tried to stare into nothingness, concentrating on the beating of his own heart.

The auction began. The traders' voices were harsh and rough. Prices rose. Slaves were led away one after another. Fear constricted his throat. What awaited him? A cruel master? Exhausting work? Or perhaps death?

Suddenly, he felt someone's gaze on him. It wasn't like the others – it was intense, inquisitive. Error looked up. A tall man/woman in a dark cloak was watching him. His/Her face was hidden by a hood, but Error sensed – this person was different from the rest. There was neither lust nor contempt in their eyes. Only a cold, calculating thought. The bargaining was over. The guard tugged the chain. Error was dragged towards his new owner. His fate was sealed. But something told Error – this was only the beginning.

I bought it, but for what purpose?