We walked home with the newly freed people.
Ordinarily, they would have been transported surrounded by priests or mercenaries, with a whip in hand and dark intentions in their hearts. Now, it was just the two of us walking ahead of them, proceeding calmly as if on a summer stroll. Our pace was deliberately slow, accommodated for the sick, the malnourished children, and the women.
"What if they run?" I turned around, asking the obvious question.
"It means they have somewhere, or someone, to run to. That's a good thing."
His words were simple but never dishonest.
I looked behind at the slowly marching crowd, full of fearful expressions, and then at the Em estate ahead. No one ran. It was a little sad, remembering his words. Did none of these people have a home or family to return to? Or were they just too afraid to even attempt escape?
We walked inside the main house, where my family—who had departed ahead of us in a horse-drawn carriage—was waiting. Most of our own household slaves were present, holding simple clothing, and a few tables were already laid out with food.
The hall filled quickly. For once, this pointlessly enormous house was good for something other than frivolous parties.
"Please..."
Zephyr looked at the servants, who nervously began handing out coats, pants, boots, scarves, and other warm layers. The freedmen quickly put them on, as if afraid the items might vanish. They looked more scared than ever. Standing inside a lavish castle, not being beaten, abused, or put to work immediately, terrified them.
Only the children enjoyed the warmth and made hungry eyes toward the tables heaped with food. I walked toward the chefs, who were also standing nearby.
"Start handing out soup and bread, and make more. This won't be enough. Bring fruits, any sweets, everything you can find. Go now."
Zephyr spoke to my mother and Maria. "...Once this is done, please don't hold yourselves back, dear Julia. Go now; you must have plenty to do before tonight's celebration. Carlos will help me with them."
"Alright then. Good luck with them." Mother couldn't fully hide her revulsion, but she was happy to leave, my sister close at her heel.
Zephyr and I shared a look, then took a seat while the others served the people, who became slightly more noisy once the food was distributed. Each was handed a plate, found a quiet corner, and devoured the soup and bread with little dignity.
Our soldiers stayed—only four, but it was enough for these people, who had lost their will to fight long ago, to constantly check the weapons at their sides.
"Send them away. Let them eat in peace." Zephyr said, having noticed the same thing.
I shooed the guards away as the servants brought more and more food. It was an endless stream. Within twenty minutes, they were mostly seated on the floor, and only the buzzing of over a hundred souls eating and whispering could be heard.
"Want me to send some people to buy wagons and supplies?" I turned to the strangely silent man.
"Once we know how many of them will stay... although..."
"Yeah," I nodded along with his thoughts. "...They probably all want a new life. Nothing left for them here but the stigma of freedman."
"Is that supposed to mean something bad?" he asked, still watching them.
There was so much he still didn't know about this world. It was a miracle how easily he navigated it without a full overview.
"Once unable to repay their loan, they are usually marked, mostly on their legs." I pointed toward some of the people. "See that word?"
"What does it say?"
"It's the mark of the Church. Even if freed, unless willing to part with their own flesh, they won't get work or education. They are freedmen now."
It was difficult to explain to someone how utterly normal this sickening situation was to everyone else. I had thought nothing of it until I knew Juan himself was most likely in a similar situation, and even if freed, never truly free. It's incredibly easy to care once it's one of your own.
Not him. I looked at Zeph. He cares even for those others had disregarded.
"The more I know about this world, the more I'm convinced it needs to change. But how many must die for such a change, hmm?" He turned to me with genuine sadness. "How can change achieved by such carnage be called a good thing?"
I leaned back and called over the girl from yesterday.
"Welma, be a dear and bring us some whiskey."
"Right away, Lord."
Once she returned, we shared a glass.
"I'd say we kill those who want us dead, and then try to be happy. Besides, you never know what the future holds—where we will be next year, or ten."
"You're right. The future is ever-changing. I need to get back home... to finesse things." He downed his glass.
As everyone was still eating, and some had even shed their fearful expressions to enjoy the food and warmth, it seemed like a good time to talk about tonight.
"What is your plan? How are you going to force them into this... this reunification of yours?"
"There's no forcing anyone, Em. I just need to make sure each of them thinks it was their idea in the first place."
"How is that even possible?" I asked, pouring myself another glass.
He smiled and raised his nearly empty glass. "I'll figure something out."
After we finished most of the bottle, I felt pretty relaxed. Whiskey was one of the most calming friends a man can have in this world.
He claimed he would handle all of it. I mean, even if I wanted to help tonight, I didn't know the Pope well, and I had certainly never talked to Acolyte Levian before. I'd been working for that snake Lord for a long while and couldn't achieve anything of real consequence.
Every time he went to Malai and told us it was training, I thought he just went immediately to the barracks and returned home with gifts once done. Turns out, he was much more active with his time, building connections and now attempting something outrageous: uniting two hateful halves of the same religion.
Most of the freedmen were now done eating, and their interest in the two of us increased. "I think it's time. Go on now, leader."
"Shut up."
We walked forward a little and waited until they quieted down.
"Welcome all. My name is Zephyr Astoria, and I'm here to tell you all... that you are free."
The murmurs swelled like several beehives, but once he raised his arms, they slowly became silent again.
"Each of you has the free will to choose. Either leave the world you know and come with us. Our home, Emet Village, will welcome all of you. Those who still have ties here or... just want to live their own lives somewhere else... you are free to do so."
Smiles and tears blended together in harmony. The feeling of euphoria they experienced must have been overwhelming. They hugged each other and thanked him—none came up close, but their cheers and applause were genuine.
He smiled with them, then continued.
"Those who come will be provided for along the road. It's a treacherous journey. Everyone tells me it will take a few weeks. But every comfort—wagons, food, warm clothes, and most importantly, protection—will accompany you."
The eyes of those who would come lit up, but he wanted to be fair.
"Those who wish to stay, for whatever reason... will be given the same provisions. You will have to exchange the protection for coin. That's all I can do. But even so, don't be afraid to make your own choices, though you must also live with them. Good luck."