You swing up into the front seat of the wagon, next to your bro, who was holding the reigns of the four-horse team. You grin shakily at him, nervous but excited, and he smiles back, reassuring and amused.
"Don't worry so much, lil' man. It'll be fine; I'll be right here to show you what to do."
This helps you relax a bit, and you reply with an, "Ok". Your bro starts off toward the city at a trot, the medium pace causing a soft wind to run through your hair and lightly prick at your eyes; you've got your shades hanging from the neckline of your shirt, deciding to keep them off until you reach the city. Helpful as they are, you aren't used to wearing them. You've spent most of your fifteen years away from civilization, on a plantation, after all.
Fifteen years. You can hardly believe it yourself. Finally done with your studies - Bro had hired a tutor for you when you were about eight, to teach you reading, writing, figuring, geography - the works. You even knew a little Latin. Bro, however, had been the one to teach you things not strictly academic; farming, horseriding, and, starting about two years ago, swordsmanship.
And now he'd be showing you the family trade.
In Domunus, it was customary for the firstborn to take over the family profession and the shop/farm along with it. The unlucky second-born and beyond often got much less of the inheritance, if any. All children were expected to be apprenticed, but without the money to start a business, opening shop could be very difficult.
However, though you were the second born, Bro said he considered you to be his kid enough to let you take it over when he was gone. You knew that wouldn't be gone for a while, as the age difference between you two was not that large, and you pointed that out. He grinned at you, saying that you two would just have to be "partners in crime".
You had no objections to being business partners with Bro. Besides, you'd always sort of wanted to be a slave-trainer. You couldn't really say exactly why; you guess you'd just always been really interested in trolls since you saw them for the first time all those years ago.
Which is why you were riding on a slave-wagon towards the city with Bro on your fifteenth birthday. The wagon was well-equipped for slaves; it had a metal frame and strong walls, with chains attached to them. A little light came in through a barred window. And though the wagon was empty now, it wouldn't be when you were heading back.
Your name is Dave Strider, and today you were getting your first slave to train.
You howl with rage as they tear him away from your grasp, two men holding you back as two others pull him away.
They KNEW you were morails. Cold as your last owner was, he wasn't cruel enough to break up morails; he had sold you as a pair.
These people, however, were cruel enough.
They drag him towards the coldbloods section as he cries out for you, and you scream back. You'll never see him again, just like you never saw Terezi after they sold her. God - it had hurt so badly to see her go, but you still had Gamzee. He had gotten you through it.
And now they had taken him from you.
NOTHING ever hurt worse than this. Not seeing your village burn as you were caught and shackled as a child. Not all the beatings from your old owners that left scars on your back and arms. Not even losing Terezi, hard as that had been; because you still had Gam. Every time something bad happened, you two had each other to lean on, to keep you strong and to keep strong for. You'd been together since your village had gone up in flames; he had been with you through it all.
And now he was gone, and you had nothing. He was your everything and your only thing, and they had ripped him away from you. They'd sell him to who-knows-where; you'd never ever see him again.
You fight and struggle against the guards who were dragging you somewhere - you didn't care where anymore - because even though you knew they might kill you for disobedience, it didn't matter if you didn't have him. He was the only thing worth living for to you.
Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you don't give a fuck anymore.
Catz: And Karkat makes his first appearance! And the poor baby lost his morail. ;-;
This is pretty fun to write; and I think I'm doing pretty well. It's kind of difficult - I don't have any personal experience with slave to draw from, obviously. But I think I've got some idea of it.
Until later, readers~