Once, when I was just a child, it was another boy who had walked me around the outer grounds of the Oscillius estate. I had never been to the large barn to the east or through the courtyard to the west--I was a maid and, despite my age, had only ever seen the inner workings of the estate.
Isaac was the boys name.
He had kind eyes and a warm smile and was a bit older than me.
He looked out for me and, as he'd taken me into the barn to take a look at the pigs as they ate their slop and pet the mane of the first horse I'd ever had the opportunity to see, he talked about the cows and the chickens and all of the food they produced for the lowly slaves. The gruel we were given was high in protein with multi-vitamins mashed into it, he'd told me. It was to help us survive our short time the
