Saturday, October 4th. 6 hours.

Taruk woke up with the first lights of dawn, a moment of quietness that he interrupted with a soft kiss on his bedmate's forehead, a gesture loaded with tenderness that contrasted with the demanding day he had ahead. He got up with precise movements, accustomed to a disciplined rhythm, and headed to the private bathroom of his small house, a privilege that he did not take for granted. There, he let the cold water of the shower run through his body, clearing his mind and preparing him for the day. He stopped in front of the mirror, inspecting his reflection with a critical eye, while mentally reviewing every detail of his appearance.

Taruk was a man who, despite his forty years and short stature, radiated an energy that filled any room. His movements were secure, almost feline, and on his flawless face, his dark and piercing eyes stood out, which seemed to be always on alert. He had the brown skin of someone who had lived under the sun, and although his hands betrayed years of work, his gestures were refined, typical of someone who knew both physical demands and etiquette.

He knew that the first impression was crucial, especially before the new elí Jorge, an unknown master whose character and preferences were just beginning to be intuited. He shaved carefully, eliminating any shadow of a beard, and selected his attire with the precision of an artisan. He chose a white linen tunic, fresh and light, but perfectly adjusted to his figure. The small turban he wore was made of quality fabrics and decorated with two color stripes: one orange and one turquoise. His black sandals, modest but well taken care of, completed the outfit. Finally, he put on a pair of pure gold earrings in each ear, a distinctive touch that highlighted his position as skaros of the estate.

As he dressed, his mind was far from being distracted by trivialities. He mentally reviewed the documents and permits he would carry with him, ensuring that all numbers were correct and the details were impeccable. He knew that the new elí had decided to sell all the current slaves and replace them, a decision that, although unusual, seemed to him a brilliant strategic move. However, this implied a titanic task, and Taruk knew that his performance would depend not only on the success of the plan but also on his own future on the estate.

His small, independent, and carefully decorated house was a luxury reserved only for higher-ranking employees, and he felt proud of it. From the window, he could observe the dawn tinting the estate's fields with gold, a reminder of the greatness of the place to which he had dedicated years of his life. He closed the door behind him with a decisive gesture and began the journey to the main house.

Upon arrival, he noticed that the servants were already moving with diligence, preparing breakfast and finalizing details. He arrived early enough to have to wait, which did not bothe...