It's all dust on long-forgotten books in long-forgotten libraries - Short fantasy story (part II)

As I said before, I was born in Getle, a slave-owner city. Luck or misfortune, it depends on whom you ask, was that I was born in one of the slave huts far from the settlement itself. That hut was at the very edge of a corn plantation, or some of its upside down and altered forms. My father died shortly after, so I didn't even remember him. But it didn't bother me much, our small and miserable community made us live together in groups, so I had enough older men to tell me through childhood how to become a man. There was not much a slave child could do while growing up in such a place, or indeed anywhere in this world if you were born a slave. So as soon as you are able to use your hands and feet on your own, Overseers will hire you. The key was to understand your place early in that whole coordinate system of trouble and misery we were born into. And most important of all is to learn some useful skill that may become useful to those who own you. And so, I was fortunate enough to learn some skills early on that would later bring me some strange opportunities in life. But on the outside, like any other miserable orphan, I was filthy, neglected, humble and quiet. Like all slaves. I guess after so many centuries of oppression and enslavement, it have entered in our bloodstream, we are born oppressed, and there is no spark of anything in any of us. That spark that makes you think about freedom. And that freedom has now become a myth. Elders do not remember the time when freedom existed for all the people. Many slaves would spend their entire lives in fields, forests, mines or quarries without seeing the property or face of their owner. One we saw was the Overseers - mostly silent people of perverted minds. You see, slaves were never allowed to beat or rape, but that is where all grace towards us ended. And so they came up with all sorts of ways to wrong us. Starvation and a ban on drinking water were among their favorites. But we all accepted it. And now, after all this, I'm not sure if they were free people.

The Dark Ages, really. Repression existed in all forms of society. Historical books were more valuable than castles, the magic was that today's magicians were able to make a potion against a headache or to light a flint-free fire.

The people walked with their heads bowed, even the small ones to the smaller ones - free citizens of the world. Although about how free they really were, I would have a lot to tell you, but about another time. There was no laughter, no joy. Grayscale covered everything, forests and fields, orchards and rivers. It is as if all the colors of this world have receded somewhere, to a better place. A place that is worthy of their existence. The animals have disappeared, except for some really vicious predators that have become too dangerous to be killed in the hunt. And so it has always been, everyone says it. I have never heard anyone narrate otherwise.

Everything was so appropriate for that place called Alliance of Four Powers and known to us as the whole known world. The only things that never fit into this gloomy world were the cities. Every city I've been to in my life has been a miracle for eyes. Each in its own way was unique and different, but what they had in common was art. On the vaults of the buildings, the villas and castles were the works of genius. Every square, fountain or bridge was a masterpiece. On each of the squares stood statues depicting some fictional times and its heroes. And at one point, those statues became important.

Source

I tell you, the dark times. But it will end soon, I already see the end. But still, this time of ours has no heroes and I stand for that claim. It's easy to be a hero in times of turmoil, when life demands it. This Age did not have the potential to give birth to a hero, we may not have deserved it, but even without a hero, we arrived at the calm of this darkness.