Having spent a night thinking about Kira's suggestions, I decide to go to the slave market. Slaves might not have a choice in the matter, but I trust in the greed of their owners to not take any unnecessary risks. Skipping breakfast I head for town at dawn. A short walk later I find myself in the eastern district of the town. South of the carriage station I have gotten quite familiar with, I find the slave market.

The slave owners like any shop owner are getting ready for doing business and bringing out their slaves. There are no ropes or chains as all the slaves have the slave mark. The mark is a series of gentle looking runes running in a circle around the neck of each slave. It is scary to think that nothing will remove that mark. It will be with them until they die, and until then all they can do is obey their master.

From what I have heard and seen in Pia, the mark even inhibits personal desires. There is no room for self. I have never been a fan of human selfishness, and found selflessness to be an admirable trait, but this mark forces that selflessness on people by taking their free will away. I say people, but so far I have only seen female slaves. I am still not entirely sure why there are no male slaves.

Interrupting my thoughts, I see a mature gentleman approaching me. "Are you here to buy a slave?" He is clearly looking for a customer, and has spotted my C rank guild badge. "I am actually looking for someone like yourself. I take it you own quite a few slaves at this market?" His stall and storage house looks large enough to house a substantial number of slaves. Seems like I stopped to think in front of one of the largest slave traders in the market.

I continue my sales pitch by explaining that I am offering to do free healing for any of his slaves. Unsurprisingly the veteran merchant sees through my smokescreen. "So how much experience do you have with healing magic?" My lack of experience seems to have been seen through. Looks like this guy will not give me a chance.

"Come, lets see what you can do." To my surprise the merchant leads me into a small tent that seems to serve as his office. The merchant barks an order at a small slave girl standing in the corner. "Go and fetch number 221." The girl runs off and the merchant turns to me.

"It is not often I get a C rank hunter coming to me for a favor. I hope you understand I will be taking a risk letting you practice healing magic on my products." What a sly merchant. He seems to be wanting to make me indebted to him for the future. The girl returns with another following close behind.

The new girl looks about 14 with long dark hair. She looks to be covered in bruises and injuries. She has a nasty scar on her face as well. "I got this one quite cheap due to the state she is in. If you can show me what you can do with this one, I am willing to let you practice on my other slaves. If you kill her, you pay for her. Girls, in my absence listen to what this man asks of you." With that he leaves me alone with the two girls.

"He called you number 221, but what is your name?" "I was called Dia before." How did you become a slave?" "My father sold me to clear his debt." I know all too well how common this girls life story is. For every good father there seems to be a bad one willing to sell his daughter into slavery to save his own skin.

Putting my hands on her head, I carefully send mana through her body to get a picture of what her condition is. This is one of the few complex things I feel comfortable doing with healing magic. While thinking of the mana as invisible particles going through her body I instruct them to observe but not influence. No complex mana structure is required. Only basic mana control and the ability to give instructions to the mana.

My mind is filled with an understanding of her condition. She seems to have some minor internal injuries that are stubbornly refusing to heal naturally, and a number of fractures and some bones that have healed poorly after breaking. The bruises should be the easiest to heal, but give a bit more time they would heal naturally. Looking at this from the merchant's perspective, he just wants her to be healthier and pretties.

If I start with the scar on her face I should be able to win his trust. Gradually the scare fades as I stimulate the growth of fresh skin cells and remove older excessive skin cell at the top. Eventually her scar fades completely and is replaced by skin a smooth as a baby's bottom. As I stop I realize that the girl is unsteady, tired from standing through the long process of healing her scar. "Please sit down on the ground and turn your back to me."

Sitting behind her with my hands on her shoulders I focus on the other injuries and scars. About two hours later I am content that there is nothing else for me to heal. All she needs now is food and rest, and hopefully a master who will not mistreat her. I instruct the other girl to fetch the merchant.

The merchant returns and immediately react to the clearly healthier looking girl standing in front of him. "I thought you said you were a novice at healing magic, if so your have extraordinary talent." The merchant seems a lot more positively disposed towards me. He finally introduces himself as Karaden a veteran slave merchant for 40 years and lists his perceived achievements. He seems convinced of his own greatness. Can't say I like being liked by this guy.

"Feel free to review the rest of my stock. I will order one of my more experienced slaves to assist you." Turning to the girl again he orders her to fetch number 211. "What is with the numbers?" My question is out before I can reconsider. "When you deal with as many slaves as I do, names are meaningless. Numbers are just more practical. Besides, their new owner often give them new names anyway."

Not long after the girl return with number 211. The newcomer is an elven slave, and she is not young like Dia. Her long blond hair show a slight tint of gray at her temples. Not much, and it is in stark contrast to her otherwise young looking face. My analyze skill confirms my suspicions. She is 121 years old, and close to the end of her life. Maybe only a few more years left.

"This is number 211, if you want a name for her, she used to be called Calita. She is currently my head slave. You will be hard pressed to find a more knowledgeable slave." That was probably meant more as a sales pitch than a compliment. "She isn't in need of your healing but if you know a cure for aging I would definitely be interested." At least the merchant is not trying to hide from me the fact that she is dying.

The only cure for aging that I know is to increase her lifeforce, but that usually involves taking risk. I leave the thought unsaid, as the merchant would be well aware of this already. As the merchant leaves I turn to Calita and exchange greetings. She immediately offers to find me a new patient. After the second much less injured patient I find myself feeling spent, my menu tells me that I am out of mana.

Healing for about three hours straight seems to be my limit at the moment, but if I take regular breaks and slow down the process I should be able to continue throughout the day. Calita proves to be good company in the breaks. She has a mountain of common knowledge that I find fascinating. "Do you know anything about the old elves." The question seems to trouble her. "I am sorry young master, but I only know about human society. I am aware of my terrible ancestors who set the dragons loose on the humans, but that is all I know of them."

I am tempted to correct her with my knowledge gained from the old free elf, but that could land me in trouble with the merchant so I refrain. Instead I change the topic. "Can you give me brief summary of your life?" The elf seems surprised that I am interested in learning about her. "It is really not that interesting. I was born on an elf farm far from her." "What is an elf farm?" The elf seems undisturbed by my interruption "An elf farm is just a farm associated with one or more brothels in nearby towns or a city. Elven prostitutes are circled back and forth between the farm and the brothel to rest them and also to have place to raise their offspring. I was one of those offspring."

The farm must also act as a cheap means of providing food for the slaves. I have heard mention of them, but never really knew what they were. "What about the rest of your life?" "When I was of age, I was sold to a young noble who bedded me. He was just the first of many masters I had as I was sold and bought throughout the years. When I was about 21, I was brought to this kingdom, which will now be about 100 years ago. I remember it well since it was the time of the great capital expansion."

"What is this great capital expansion you speak of?" I remember hearing something about a land reform taking place near the capital about 100 years ago, but there was no details in the book, as the author had little interest in it. "The expansion of the capital was a land reform enacted by the king at the time. It involved auctioning out land around the capital to the many poor people living in the slums around the capital. My master at the time was one of the architects of the project. He was a good man, who genuinely believed that selling cheap land to poor people was a way for them to start a life. He was a good master to me too. I stayed with him until he died of old age 40 years later."

That means she was still only 61. "What happened when he died?" His heirs saw little value in keeping me around, so they sold be to an elf farm near the capital. I worked in a brothel in the capital while giving birth to as many offspring as I could. Before coming to the farm I had already given birth to 8 and at the farm I had 22 more before I was again sold. I was passed around a few more owners before I ended up with my current master a few months ago."

I am pretty sure she skipped a lot. So she has had at least 30 kids. That is no small number. Seems like elves stay fertile for a lot longer than humans. "Your master called you his head slave, what do you do for him?" "I do whatever my master asks of me. He uses me to speak to the other slaves to make sure they are healthy and well fed. From time to time, he consults me about things, but only when he wants to know what I think any of my previous masters would have done. Also, since I am his only elven slave, he likes to assign me to pleasure his high-ranking guests."

Not sure I really wanted to know about the last bit. I just don't like the thought of some pompous jerk having his way with this gentle and dignified lady. I am pretty sure no one else feels like that in this world though. Time will probably make a hypocrite of me as well. Come to think of it some of those village prostitutes were slaves. I guess I am a hypocrite already.

Toward the end of the day Calita turns to me. "Do you mind if I ask a question?" It is unusual for a slave to take initiative in a conversation, so she must really want to ask this. "Sure, please feel free to ask whatever you want." "Do you own any slaves?" My instinct is to say no, but then I remember that Pia is technically my slave. "I got one, but I got four wives so I might actually be a slave myself." My joke seems lost on the elf. It was a bad joke anyway. "Would you be interest in buying me? Considering my age and life expectancy, I can assure you that I will be very cheap for an elf."

Should I have seen that one coming? Why would she ask me to buy her? Would I want to? I know the answer to the last one. My own imagination betrays me. I have never been with an elf. I can try to tell myself that they are no different than human girls. Their ears are just a bit differently shaped than humans. I am such a hypocrite. Hang on, I got my wives and Pia. No need to add to them.

"Why are you wanting me to buy you?" Calita seems unperturbed by the question. "I think you would be a good master. I would very much like to have a good master in my last years." "How do you know I would be a good master? You just met me a few hours ago." "I don't know for sure, but both my instinct and my knowledge tell me that you are very likely a good man. Similar to my master of 40 years. Such men are very rare." I think she just gave me a compliment.

"Is it common for slaves to promote their own sale?" "It is, at least among demi-humans. Human slaves very often end up as slaves due to unfortunate circumstances. Demi-humans are slaves from birth and want nothing more than a good master. Some think a good master is a rich master, but a rich master is also less likely to value the slave, so I look at the man's character and behavior. If you go shopping for demi-human slaves, you should not be surprised that they seem sincere when promoting themselves to you. It just means that they think you will be a good master." I guess wanting a good master is about as selfish as a slave can get.

"I am sorry. I can't really justify buying a slave at the moment. I have four wives, one slave and at least two kids on the way so I go plenty of mouths to feed already." The whole thing feels like an excuse. I can easily afford to buy her and to pay for food which is dirt cheap in this world. I just don't want to be that guy who bought a slave and had to explain it to his wives.

We finish up for the day and Karaden reviews my results. He seems pleased and asks me to come again tomorrow. I get the feeling he is trying to take advantage of free healing to increase the value of his slaves and his profits. I suggest to him that I might go and offer my services to another slave merchant, and his tone changes. "There is no need for that I have many slaves that need treatment, but now that you have proved your worth to me I think it would be appropriate that I pay you a fee per successful healing."

His offer seems low to me so make him a counteroffer. "How about you share a portion of your increased profits resulting from my healings? Surely you keep records of purchase prices, expected sales prices and actual sales prices?" Karaden seems to like my offer, but we haggle for a bit until we settle for 30% of the increase on the expected sales price before the healing. Did I just become a slave trader?