Once again, the sun rose over the plantation. Unlike other days, this time Carlos woke up with a thread of excitement for the workday. He had managed to convince the plantation owner to buy weapons the day before. That meant he only had to endure his days as a slave until the next visit from the traveling merchant, a month from now. Of course, it all depended on whether the peddler could actually get his hands on some guns and bullets.

  Feeling animated, he devoured his breakfast—if one could even call the handful of boiled beans and raw cassava flour "breakfast," and there wasn't even any coffee. The taste was monotonous and dry, sticking to the roof of his mouth. After eating, he headed straight for the sugarcane fields, only to discover no one else was heading that way. The morning air, still cool, carried the sweet, heavy smell of damp earth.

  "Huh? Why is no one else coming to the fields?"

  Pedro, who was passing nearby, saw Carlos standing still with a lost expression.

  "What are you doing there? You wanna work even on our day off?"

  "Day off? We get a day off?" asked Carlos, his voice a mix of disbelief and hope.

  "Of course we do! Well, at least the field hands do. Those who work in the main house get no rest, which is my case. I'm just passing through because Master Jorge asked me to relay a message to the plantation's carpenter."

  I can't believe it. A day off? I wasn't expecting that. I don't even know what to do with free time, but... I'm not complaining.

  "Judging by your smile, I can tell you're excited," Pedro commented, noting Carlos's expression.

  "But just because it's a day off doesn't mean we're free. Today is mass day. Since Missus Alice is very religious, she even convinced her husband to make everyone go, slaves included. The main house folks and the master will be along shortly."

  All I wanted was to do nothing all day. This reminds me of my childhood, when we went to mass. My father was very religious and went all the time. I don't go anymore; I believe in God, but not the God the church preaches... Still, it's better than working, and the priest seems like a good man.

  "I see. Thanks for the info."

  ***

  It didn't take him long to reach the chapel, as he remembered the way from his last visit. Arriving, he found a small crowd already gathered: the slaves, the overseers, and the plantation mistress with Auntie Vera. The mistress was trying, in vain, to control her son, who was running in circles and shouting, his fine clothes a stark contrast to the slaves' rags. Vera's grandson was nowhere to be seen.

  I hope the little rascal is stealing some cashews. I need something more than beans and cassava flour. Would be great if he swiped some of the master's picanha too, or some pork cracklings, coffee, bread, chocolate...

  As he thought about these things, he almost drooled but composed himself upon seeing the plantation owner arriving with Jairo. The smell of leather and sweat from the overseers filled the air. Once everyone had arrived, they filed into the chapel. Unfortunately, not everyone could sit; many had to stand, and, as expected, it was the slaves who remained on their feet.

  Carlos didn't pay much attention to the mass, which seemed endless and monotonous to him. However, one of the priest's sermons ended up catching his attention, the man's clear voice echoing under the wooden ceiling.

  "Proverbs 25:21-22," the priest recited, his gaze sweeping over the congregation. "'If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. For in doing so, you will heap burning coals on his head, and the Lord will reward you.' It is not for us to judge who may or may not eat. Even to our enemies we must give food, for God alone is the judge. And He will reward us for our actions. Therefore, on this day of rest, I ask that you forgive your enemies and give them food. Amen."

  Everyone understood the message the priest was trying to convey. Furtive little glances were directed at the plantation owner. A heavy silence hung in the air, and people seemed hesitant to even say "amen." But one person in the middle, Auntie Vera, said "amen" firmly, and gradually, others followed, their whispers forming a wavering chorus.

  Jorge, reluctant, grumbled an "amen," but his face was as red as a chili pepper.

  This priest has no fear, it seems. He really is a good man. After this, there's no way he can avoid taking Tassi's mask off. He might be the owner of these lands, but I guess religion still holds weight in this era. That, or the priest just doesn't care about his own life.

  Luckily for Tassi, the plantation owner's wife was very religious and took the priest's sermons seriously. So much so that after mass, outside the chapel, she was seen talking to her husband in a low but insistent voice. To everyone's surprise, Jorge, his jaw clenched, took the key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock at the nape of Tassi's mask. With a dry click, the mask was removed.

  As soon as she was free, Tassi turned, looked Jorge straight in the eyes with her intense emerald-green ones, and said, her voice hoarse from disuse but firm:

  "Even though you are my enemy, I forgive you for your actions."

  It seemed impossible, but the old man turned an even deeper shade of red. A vein throbbed visibly at his temple, but he did not hit Tassi. Not in front of the chapel and the priest, whose calm yet vigilant gaze rested upon them.

  Looks like it's not just the priest who has courage... But I can't believe the old man did nothing to her. I think the church in this world must have more power than in mine. Although, he could still do something later, away from everyone's eyes.

  After the commotion, it was time to start preparing the midday meal. On weekdays, the slaves weren't allowed lunch, but on their day off it was different. All the slaves walked slowly back toward the slave quarters, the hot sun already warming their backs. All except Tassi, who walked briskly, eager to finally eat something. By the time Carlos reached the quarters, she was already finishing her plate.

  I have to take advantage of her being free now to talk. Pedro told me she's the one who knows the most about magic gems. It would be good to learn how they work, and to understand more about this world.

  Before Carlos could say anything, Tassi finished her plate, approached him, and whispered, her hushed voice a welcome sound after her forced silence:

  "So, what's your plan?"

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Carlos was surprised by the direct question and thought for a moment before answering.

  What does she mean? Where did she get the idea I have a plan? Well, I do, if you can even call it a plan. I just plan to get some weapons and solve our situation with bullets. But if I say I have a plan, I'll just create expectations, and I'm not sure it will work. The plan depends only on me and on luck. Telling her won't help me at all. Besides, it seems like the plan she devised for the last escape was betrayed by someone.

  "What plan? I don't have any plan," he whispered back, his eyes scanning the area for overseers.

  "From your speech yesterday, you're not the type to sit still and let things happen. You spoke with so much certainty... It really seemed like you had a plan."

  "I just have hope, and nothing more," he said, averting his eyes.

  Tassi was seething inside, but she didn't show it outwardly, keeping her expression neutral.

  "How about this: I'll tell you how we tried to escape, who uses magic gems here and why we failed, and you tell me your plan. And maybe I can help you."

  Does she know who the snitch was? Could it really have been Pedro? The way she looked at him yesterday seemed a bit suspicious. Besides, I'd really like to have that information. If I'm going to fight with a weapon, I need to know, at the very least, what I'm up against. After all, I know nothing about how the magic in this world works... Although maybe it's better to keep everything secret until the last moment. I can get this information just by observing and talking to others. Still, it can't hurt to talk a little more.

  "How do I know you'll actually tell me these things? And how are you so sure who the snitch was?"

  "I knew it! You do have a plan!" she exclaimed in a triumphant whisper.

  Damn, I said too much. Although she seems trustworthy. At the very least, I don't see someone who was tortured as much as she was by that old man helping him now. I think it's okay to talk a little.

  "So, what is the plan?"

  But I can't just come out and say: "Well, I'm from Brazil, from the future, but a future without magic, and what you call devil artifacts are just objects from my world, and some of them are weapons, and I think I can use them." She wouldn't believe me. I can mix a little lie with a little truth.

  "Spit it out," Tassi insisted, her patience wearing thin.

  Carlos took a deep breath, looked around, and began to speak softly. She leaned in closer to hear better, the scent of earth and sweat still clinging to her hair.

  "I'm from a land far away, where we know how to... summon devil artifacts. And I know how to use a specific type. It's called a firearm. It's very lethal and works at long range. It can kill a person from about fifty paces away. If someone is skilled with it, they can kill from much farther. Unfortunately, that's not my case, but I still think I can easily kill someone who's close. Besides the weapon, I need bullets, which are like... the arrows for my weapon. They're very small, but with the weapon, they're lethal."

  Tassi let out a deep sigh, her gaze dropping to the packed dirt floor. The disappointment was palpable in her soft whisper:

  "Let me tell you a secret. There was a slave who tried to attack the master before. He picked up a large, heavy stone from the ground and, with all the strength in his muscular arms, hurled it straight at the master's head. I barely saw the stone flying through the air... but it did nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because Jorge invoked two shields around himself—a common defense shield and a shield of divine protection! He hides the gems in a necklace under his shirt; no one ever realized he could use both the defense gem and the divine defense gem."

  "I've been to many wars, and I know how hard it is to break through the defenses of those gems, and that was against people who could only use one of them. I've never met anyone capable of using both. Life is truly unfair—on top of owning all this land and controlling our lives, he was born with a blessing like that."

  So there are people who can use more than one type of gem. Tassi herself can, I remember the staff she used to make the sugarcane grow had two gems. This information is crucial—I didn't even consider that he might use magic. Imagine if I'd been caught by surprise! I keep forgetting we're in another world; I need to keep these magic gems in mind.

  But this could ruin my plans... No, wait. I remember when I first arrived here, the master said he would drain every last drop of mana from Tassi. That means there's a limit to how much magical power a person can use. Besides, could that shield really stop a bullet? Stopping a thrown rock is one thing—the force of a bullet doesn't compare to the force of a thrown rock. Tassi must be imagining I'm going to shoot something with the force of an arrow.

  "By any chance, is there a limit to how much magical power a person can use per day? And does the shield consume more magic the more damage it takes? I bet using two shields at once must drain a significant amount of mana."

  Tassi was visibly surprised by the shrewdness of Carlos's questions, her eyes widening slightly.

  "Yes, there is a limit, and you're right—the more damage the shield absorbs, the more magic it consumes. But understand this: the amount of magic someone can use varies enormously from person to person. With practice, you can increase your reserve, but since the master doesn't actively practice... it's likely he has an impressive natural capacity. However, never underestimate how much magic someone can have—that can get you killed. I've seen countless comrades fall on the battlefield because they underestimated an opponent. Some people are born with a colossal mana reserve, and that very well might be the master's case."

  "And he's not the only one you need to worry about," she continued, lowering her voice even further. "Because in the time it would take you to load another 'bullet,' Overseer Jairo would have already taken you down. He uses both the wind gem and the rot gem. The rot gem isn't an immediate threat, but the wind gem makes his whip move faster and hit harder. And worse—the crack of his whip alone can leave a man deaf. Our first escape attempt only worked because he was away from the plantation."

  So that worm really does have access to such powerful magic! Bad news on top of bad news. But wait—he'd need to be close to me to use the whip. I can shoot from a long distance, and a gunshot is much faster than a whip crack. At least I can handle him. Even if the old man's defenses are impenetrable, without his overseers, what can he do? Nothing!

  "I understand," Carlos replied, his voice containing a confidence that sounded almost misplaced. "But that won't be a problem, because I don't need time to reload. I can fire several bullets in rapid succession, faster than a whip can move, and with more speed and force than any arrow you've ever seen in your life."

  Tassi shook her head slowly, her eyes expressing a mixture of disbelief and concern. What nonsense is this man spouting? That's completely impossible!

  "You've never been to war, have you? You have no idea what you're talking about!"

  Carlos let out a faint, mischievous smile.

  "Just wait and see. Next month, when the merchant comes, I'll kill all the overseers here. The master won't be able to capture or kill anyone without his overseers. I just need to know if anyone else uses any magic gems. It would also be useful to know why your plan failed."

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Carlos immediately regretted them. The metallic taste of arrogance seemed to fill his mouth.

  I boasted too much. I got annoyed by her disbelief, but it's just that she doesn't understand the power of a gun. Truly, the magic in this world is amazing, but a fire arrow and a super-whip are nothing compared to a firearm.

  Tassi sighed, no longer able to hide her disappointment. Carlos's last statement only further cemented her idea that he was nothing but a dangerous fool.

  He has no idea what he's talking about. But on the day the peddler arrives, I'll be ready to save him from death. After all, he's here because of me. I have to, at the very least, save him from his own idiocy. I'm frankly disappointed. After his inspiring speech yesterday, I thought he'd have an excellent plan to get out of here. I never imagined he'd just pinned his hopes on some mythical 'weapons.' Powerful weapons do exist, but no weapon wins a war alone. Wars are won by strategists and trained warriors, not dreamers with fairy-tale artifacts.

  Author's Fun Fact

  The word for "breakfast" in brazilian portuguese is "café da manh?", which literally translates to "morning coffee." So many jokes with a morning coffee without coffee are lost in translation.