Carlos returned to the slave quarters after a long day's work in the master's house. The hot, heavy evening air carried the cloyingly sweet smell of burnt sugarcane, mixed with the scent of damp earth. In the dim twilight, he spotted a familiar figure ahead. It was Tassi. Her face was partially hidden by the flanders mask covering her mouth, and on her forehead, a fresh wound formed the cruel mark of an "F"—an indelible scar left by the plantation owner.

  He approached cautiously, a weight of guilt tightening in his chest.

  "You're Tassi, right? I remember you tried to warn me about the bounty hunters before I was captured, but I didn't listen..." His voice was a remorse-laden whisper. "You were caught trying to save me, and it's all my fault. If I had just run when you warned me, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation... I'm sorry. I truly am."

  If only I hadn't been so useless back then. I have to do something for her. If I could get a weapon and kill the old master, we'd be free. But that's a big 'if'...

  "I'll make it up to you somehow, I promise," he said, more to himself than to her.

  Tassi, unable to speak clearly through the metal mask, communicated with her eyes. Her intense gaze conveyed a message words could not carry. She tried to make a hand signal and murmur something muffled, but was cut off by a sharp, dry crack, followed by rough shouts that sliced through the air.

  "You two, keep moving if you don't want a proper whipping!" Jairo's voice roared. "Especially you, you wench! Don't you go inciting anyone else to run away!"

  The sudden noise made Carlos flinch. Glancing back, his eyes were drawn to the handle of Jairo's whip, where two gems glowed with a sinister inner light: one a light green, the other a deep green. He recalled the priest's words about a gem that made wounds fester faster, but he couldn't observe them longer. Any hesitation would mean pain.

  That vermin bothers us nonstop. The workday is over and he's still on our case. And worse, he uses two magic gems! I wonder which one is the rot gem and what the other one does.

  The two quickly entered the senzala, and the large wooden door was shut behind them with a dull thud that echoed in the darkness.

  Inside the slave quarters, the air was stifling, thick with the smell of sweaty bodies, beans, burnt firewood, and the faint stench of rot from the far end. The scene was one of people serving themselves from pots of beans, their silhouettes dancing on the walls in the flickering light of smoky oil lamps. Starving, Carlos didn't waste a second; he went straight for the food. He hadn't eaten anything that morning, having gone to speak with the priest to get medicine for his injured leg.

  If this continues, I'll end up as nothing but skin and bones.

  He was so hungry he devoured the food ravenously, not noticing the elderly woman approaching until a sweet, yet tired, voice sounded:

  "Good evening!"

  It was Auntie Vera. In his haste to greet her, Carlos swallowed his food without chewing properly and choked, coughing.

  "Easy, boy, you can eat in peace," she said with a soft laugh. "I know you must be starving, since you skipped breakfast. I suppose I'll have to wait for you to finish chewing to talk. Every time I come to speak with you, you choke."

  Auntie Vera's eyes moved toward something behind Carlos.

  "If one morning without food leaves you like this, imagine going days without eating..."

  Carlos turned slowly. In the gloom, a face emerged from the darkness: bright eyes, the color of emeralds, and a mouth covered by an iron mask. The poor lighting of the senzala made the image frightening, and a chill ran down Carlos's spine.

  My God! What a terrifying mask. I didn't notice how scary it was before because we were outside, and I could barely see her face. But in here, with this lighting... She looks like an apparition. And those eyes... It seems we're not in a world where people have colorful hair, but rather colorful eyes... But Auntie Vera is right, I haven't eaten anything today and I'm almost dying of hunger. Imagine her, who hasn't eaten for days and has to watch others eat.

  Auntie Vera noticed Carlos's fright and chuckled softly.

  "I understand, Carlos. This mask is truly dreadful. I just don't understand how a man who calls himself a man of God can force someone to wear this and still let her go hungry. That's why I did something to help you, even if just a little, Tassi."

  Auntie Vera motioned for Tassi to come closer and whispered something in her ear, but Carlos still managed to hear:

  "My grandson managed to get some cashews from the tree, and I squeezed a few for you. I know you can't eat with the mask on, but you can still drink something, right? It's not much, but it will give you a bit of energy. I left it in a little clay pot by your bed. But it's better to drink it before sleeping; we don't know who might report you to Master Jorge."

  Tassi took Auntie Vera's hands and squeezed them tightly, murmuring something muffled and guttural.

  "No need to thank me, girl. But, putting that aside, you should have seen Carlos today! He got two devilish artifacts from the peddler—they were two smooth, gray stones. He started explaining how they worked. I didn't understand any of it, only that on one side the stones attracted each other and on the other, they repelled. It seemed like magic! Even using all his strength, he couldn't push them together when they were on the repelling side. It's just like the church says, they must be the devil's work! Let's hope that wretched thing hasn't cast a curse on us."

  Hearing the story, Tassi raised her eyebrows and stared intently at Carlos.

  Hold on, Auntie, I didn't use all my strength either. She sounds like my grandfather telling stories, exaggerating everything. But it bothers me that they call them devil artifacts. They're just ordinary things... At least I know I'm not a devil-person just because I share the same origin as these artifacts.

  "Don't worry, Auntie. I know what I'm doing, and I don't think they're from the devil. After all, there are magic gems that shoot fire, heal wounds, make plants grow... I think there must be other types of magic and forces. For example, the stones I got today, the magnets, are an example of another force, electromagnetism. Just because we don't know their origin or how they work doesn't mean they're evil."

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "My, you are quite learned," commented Auntie Vera, impressed.

  "Thank you. But, putting that aside, I noticed you weren't here in the senzala yesterday. You're one of the few people I can talk to, so I missed you."

  Auntie Vera let out a sigh, showing her weariness.

  "I was at the main house yesterday, making a dessert for the mistress, and came back late. They lock the senzala gate, but they open it for me. The folks working the cane fields think my job is easy, but I suffer too: I have to clean everything, cook, look after the children, and some days I'm there long after sunset. Not to mention I'm the first one out to make Master Jorge's breakfast. I just don't complain much because I like to cook, so there's a part of the work I enjoy, which isn't common around here."

  My mother worked as a maid. I always saw her exhausted, so I know it's not an easy job. It's a shame I can't do anything for her right now... Well, she said she likes to cook...

  "I saw they bought cocoa powder from the merchant today. I know a wonderful recipe that uses cocoa."

  Carlos described in detail a cake he loved, and even Tassi seemed interested, moving closer to listen attentively.

  "Boy, I can't believe you know a recipe with such an expensive ingredient! Only very rich people use that. But the way you described it, it sounds delicious. The mistress loves sweets, I'm sure she'll adore it, and her son will too."

  Auntie Vera yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.

  "Now I have to go to sleep because, like I said, I have to make Master Jorge's coffee. Thank you for the recipe."

  She really is like a mother hen, trying to help everyone. But I've noticed few people besides me talk to her. I wonder why?

  Carlos looked around at the people still eating or preparing to sleep. He noticed many averted their eyes when he looked at them. One man, in particular, stared back at him with suspicion.

  Huh, why did that guy look at me like that? And why are they avoiding me? I thought in an environment like this people would be more united. Isn't it enough that everyone who isn't a slave looks at us with disdain and insults us? Do we have to have petty squabbles among ourselves too? At least Tassi doesn't avoid me.

  As he was lost in thought, Pedro approached them. Carlos decided to clear his doubts.

  "Let me ask you something. Why does everyone seem to be avoiding me? At first, I thought it was because I'm new, but I think there's more to it."

  Pedro sighed lightly before answering.

  "It's quite simple. First, you're new. Second, you started working directly for the plantation owner; they don't like those who work closely with him. I've heard that on other plantations, the house slaves are kept separate to avoid conflict. The people here are normally more friendly, but you arrived right after the failed escape, so tensions are high. Everyone is looking for someone to blame, and they're full of despair."

  "But not everyone is like that. For example, Tassi, who's right here by your side, always talked to everyone."

  And now she can't talk anymore, because of the mask she got thanks to me.

  "They avoid Auntie Vera, too. She was excited about your arrival because she finally has another person to talk to. The folks don't like me much either; they think I ratted out the escape plan to the master."

  Ah, now it makes sense. I was wondering why I was the only one talking to such a kind woman. And that's probably why they avoid Pedro, too.

  At that moment, Tassi stared intensely at Pedro. Carlos noticed but didn't comment.

  Is he really a snitch? He seems so nice. Although Tassi doesn't avoid him, unlike how everyone seems to avoid us. Either way, I'd better remember that.

  Pedro coughed and continued:

  "Anyway, Auntie Vera suffers more. People think she's friends with the mistress. My son, who's her grandson, sometimes plays with the master's son. Just don't say that near the master, it makes him furious. Speaking of him, be careful: he's cruel and hates us more than anything. He might sometimes treat you well, but know that he doesn't see you as a person."

  "I know. Anyone who keeps you as a slave doesn't see you as human. I've never felt anything for him but hatred. Everyone here works themselves to death in the sun, while he just fiddles with his gadgets and makes money off our backs. And I bet the mistress, who's so 'friendly' with Vera, doesn't lift a finger to help her. She just watches her work like a condemned woman and does nothing."

  I remember my mother's stories about her boss's wife, who claimed to be her friend. My mother worked herself to the bone, while this 'friend,' who was just a housewife, did nothing, not even taking care of her own baby. She just went out for yoga, dance classes, and, of course, to cheat on her husband, who also cheated on her. A typical Brazilian middle-class family.

  His response left Pedro surprised.

  "You're quite radical, but control your hatred. Anywhere in the world, there are slaves and servants. Those who command and those who obey. That will never change; it's always been this way and always will be. That's why I sometimes think it's useless to fight. Even the nearby quilombo suffers attacks from the Portuguese. One day it will be destroyed."

  "Maybe you're right. Maybe we'll never create a world without slaves and masters. But even assuming ending slavery is impossible, does that mean we should just stand still, stay quiet, and let them whip us? For me, even if it's a futile struggle, it's still worth fighting. And perhaps our freedom isn't as far away as you think."

  Tassi couldn't help but stare fixedly at Carlos, her eyebrows raised. She seemed to want to say something, but the mask silenced her.

  "Besides, right now it might seem like things will always be this way, with plantation owners and slaves. In the time of the pharaohs, the slaves also thought the pharaohs would always exist, but they fell. Rome seemed eternal, with its slaves serving their masters, but Rome fell. The slaves didn't become completely free, they became serfs, but it shows that nothing is eternal. Even the kings of today, who seem untouchable and protected by God, will one day meet their end. Just as the plantation owners will one day disappear, becoming just a dark paragraph in the history books. And with their end, slavery will end. It doesn't mean we'll be totally free, but it will be better than being a slave."

  Pedro barely knew who the pharaohs or Rome were, but he understood the general message and fell into deep thought.

  Tassi, who had only listened to the conversation, couldn't contain her surprise and, even with the mask, murmured softly:

  "You're right."

  Wow, she can talk with the mask on? I didn't know that. Although it sounds more like a moan. I only understood because it's quiet here; most people have already gone to sleep and there's almost no light.

  Noticing his surprise, Pedro explained:

  "She can talk, but it's very difficult, because there's an iron piece that goes in her mouth. By the way, I spoke with the priest about the mask, and he said he'll try to convince Master Jorge to remove it a little earlier."

  Tassi seemed happy with the news. Soon after, she stood up and waved to them, heading to her corner. Carlos followed a little later.

  Pedro was left behind, alone with his thoughts, ruminating on the words he had heard.

  How wonderful it would be... a world without slavery. A world where my son can be free.