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"So is this it?" Rodrigo, a puma and the shortest of the four of us, slowly panted and proceeded to point to a big, burnt out house in the middle of nowhere. Carlos, a hawk, and Bernardo, a mastiff, also stared at the building for a bit. I looked at it too before I assured, "Yep. This is the house."

It was a white, broken hacienda in that also looked eerily familiar. The door was slightly ajar, allowing for anyone to enter. As a three-floor house, it was filled to the brim with valuables from the past owners, whose names are yet to be found. It was, so to speak, a gold mine.

"So why has no one robbed this place yet?" I asked.

"A ghost haunts the place," said Carlos. I could see a bit of fright on his face. Typical of him. And a bit cowardly in his part.

"Yeah, Julio-Andres," Rodrigo supported. "You should be careful around here. I've heard someone say that one person went in and never came back."

I just growled. "Bernardo, please tell me you don't believe in this fairy tale..."

"Well," he started, "According to myth, the house is haunted by the past owner's slave. His name is not mentioned, but sources say it's a bird of sorts, and he occasionally haunts around the place by singing."

He then walked in front of me and faced us. "But according to us, this is a lie. ¡Entrémos!"

If there was at least one brave man besides me in here, it was Bernardo. I started to advance. The others followed.

It was the humble year of 1532 when curious spanishmen invaded the shores of what would later become Peru. When Christopher Columbus dropped into the harbor and moved into the open fields, witnesses remember seeing the weak Incan tribes think it was a god from the heavens. I swear, what they lack in brain power they only make up for in brawn, the only thing they're good at.

Since then, a colony built over the gold mine hidden below the hills of the Andes, slowly but surely.

It was then that I, Julio-Andres Huaman de Castro, decided to finally meet my family and embark on a three-week journey to a new promised land, one that was starting to lose its gold luster, in 1815.

I used to work as a corregidor, one that would "correct the indigenous workers when they did wrong and provide a safe environment for them". But we all knew the first one was only accomplished, and rather harshly. I sometimes felt bad for the indians, but this sense of resentment quickly went away.

After some time, I decided it'd be best to let go for a while before I traveled back to Spain, so I retired my job and lived the rest of my time here. The work of punishing wasn't completely over, however. I met these three men that only had one "job" to do. I tagged along their group, and eventually became one of them.

This job they had was simple: Look for a native in liberty, and you either kill the prick or turn him in once again to slavery. It was pretty rewarding for us, as some of them had a bunch of money lying around their pockets. But, Dios mio, they can sure put up a fight!

Nevertheless, the indians don't really get that much attention after they're murdered. The only attention they received was a small article on the newspaper next to, say, an advertisement for a firearms store. Pretty clever on the publisher's part.

What strikes me as shocking, however, is that not even the state tries to stop us, and they know we do this! But they pay us for not telling anyone about this, and of course, guaranteed innocence if we ever do get caught. So I guess I'm perfectly fine not rotting in a cell.

And so we come to today, July 28th of 1820, where all four of us wanderers decided to raid a seemingly haunted house. Dressed in nothing but my old work uniform and hat, I entered to house, slowly so that no one would know that we were going in. The others followed inside and closed the door as lightly as possible.

We crossed a small pathway before entering the spacious living room. It was really big, even with all the still intact treasures hogging up most of the floor.

"It's... like it's bigger on the inside!" Bernardo exclaimed. It truly was like he said.

We examined the room we were in. There were still some things that didn't get burned, like a grand piano sitting in a corner, and a small table missing one of its legs. A few teacups were scattered about as well, and another grand table was on the side, with lots of papers all over. While we glanced all over the room I thought, How could one couple own such treasures and just leave them out in the open? They were bound to get robbed in the future, but not like that...

We explored a bit more. Near the end was a door leading to a grand hall, and in that hall there were other doors leading to other various rooms. A dining room, some sort of workroom, a grand garden and yard... this place had everything! It reminded me a bit of my parents' house... While I don't remember much of it, I do remember that it was just like this house. My parents passed away due to some explosion inside their house, just like this one we were exploring. I was in it and miraculously survived, but the sheer force of the explosion caused me to pound my head against a wall as I was sent flying, ultimately losing memory of what had happened once I woke up. I still remember my dad's last words when I found him in the hospital bed, though... He mentioned something about a gift he meant to give me, but with that his heart gave out. I might never know what his gift to me was...

As I was exploring the garden and some of its fruits I started to wonder if this house was connected to that of my parents. It would end up being a ridiculous coincidence if they were not the same. The doctors told me that the impact I took upon the explosion left me with a slight concussion, and my memory of whatever happened there was foggy. They said I would eventually regain this memory, but it's been 2 years now and nothing.

As I tried to concentrate hard on the incident and see if my memory went back, however, someone started crying intensely. I immediately snapped out of my daydream and looked frantically all over the place. The trio also seemed to hear this, because I regrouped with them back in the grand hall.

"What do you think it was?" Bernardo whispered.

"It must be the ghost..." shuddered Carlos. "H-he knows w-we're here...!"

Rodrigo slapped him in the shoulder. "Will you man up for once?" He stayed quiet for a bit, as if to observe if the crying came back, and then continued, "See? Nothing. It was probably from outside. I'm sure that it won't be back no--"

The crying turned to dreadful singing. A very sorrowful song; I actually shuddered a bit.

"Careful what you wish for..." I muttered.

Suddenly the singing intensified and the walls started shaking. Plates rattled on their displays, paintings dropped to the ground with a loud thud! It was complete insanity!

Carlos was, naturally, the first to run out of the house. He pranced for the door and screamed like a little girl. I just facepalmed myself, despite being in considerate panic. Rodrigo followed, but not before he faced us and said, "I'm out of here. Good luck surviving! ¡Quiero vivir, por favor! ¡Déjenme en paz!" As soon as they left, the singing dissipated into quiet once again.

I shook my head in disgust. I turned to Bernardo and told him, "Hey, you're not gonna give up like that, no? We're going to find this fool and kill him, understood?"

When I turned the canine, however, he looked at me with a rather pale face. He quickly wiped it off and pretended it was nothing. "Uh... yeah, definitely."

"Uh-huh," I looked at him concerned. "Let's just try and find where he could be hiding. The sound's coming from below, so I suspect there'd be a basement. We should focus on looking for a door leading down."

For around an hour or so, we digged and digged over the rubble. Not a single door or at least a secret passage was found anywhere. Under the hot sun of the afternoon that started to peer through the clouds, we started to sweat a river, so after a few more minutes we regrouped back in the dining room.

"Looks like someone came in digging..." I panted. Bernardo also looked pretty defeated.

Then the creepy singing started again, and we wildly looked around the house. This little bastard is so gonna get it once we discover him...

I started to figure out how the hell this soul came in and magically sunk below the ground, when I started hearing light footsteps. When I turned to the door leading out of the hallway and into the living room, I saw Bernardo walking out quietly. He was trying to escape!

"Hey!" I shouted, and the mastiff took one quick glance towards me and sprinted for the exit.

"You little--" I was angered that every one of these cabrones left me. "...Fine! I'll go finish this myself!"

I stomped madly around the house that started to reconstruct itself in my mind. It somehow felt... familiar. I've never been here before but it sure felt like it. Each room I went through was like hitting another wall of memories. That wasn't important now, though. I had to search for this fiend.

I went into the master bedroom once again. Like every other room in this house, it was covered in pitch black soot and the remainder of the ash from the flames that once consumed the mini palace. I could still see objects lying around covered in black and toppled over. As I took a closer look, almost all of the doors are gone... except for one, and rather misplaced. As I approached it, I knocked it over, going down with a small thud. This appeared to be a small closet of sorts.

I made through the small hallway with a light step. I examined to my sides where some very neatly placed suits were kept.Weird, I thought. How come the tuxedos are the only things that are still safe here?

It only took me one smell of one of those tuxedos to give me the answer. The smell was of soap, and surprisingly enough, the same soap Mom always used when she washed the clothes.

Someone had washed the suits recently.

I looked around for anything odd inside the closet, and I was tempted to look down. The pattern on the floor, a checkered pattern resembling that of a chess board, continued monotonously. Each tile was divided into four squares, two obsidian and two marble, and it kept its order... except for the centermost tile right in front of the back wall. This, even more amusingly, was shifted out of position ever so slightly.

I crouched down and picked up the tile effortlessly. Beneath it was a sideways metallic ladder going down... and that eerie moaning from not long ago started again... There was no other choice for me but to go down. Placing one foot on the third pedestal and another on the fourth, I gripped the floor before I grabbed one of the handles beside me and descended.

With every step downward, the moaning kept growing louder and more ominous. I could feel the cold, damp air slightly caressing my fur, giving me goose bumps. I slowly took a deep breath before I continued my descent, worried about what might happen. Once I finally touched the ground, I dropped off the ladder and turned around slowly.

The basement of sorts was huge. Everything was trashed and thrown over, and a big pile of it accumulated in the corner. It was there where the singing came. Shortly after I stepped in, it turned into soft crying. As scared as I was up to this point... it must be finished.

I slowly walked over to the rubble, taking out my pistol, loading it and aiming it towards the source of the sound, not sure of what would happen.

A giant cardboard piece suddenly moved, and I was tempted to shoot at it out of fear, but for some reason, I didn't. Instead, I approached it very slowly and grabbed ahold of one of the sides before it could move again. I could hear a soft gasp as I gripped the cardboard, meaning that someone was hiding there. With one more deep breath, I quickly pulled the cardboard away to reveal the culprit once and for all. I was immediately taken back when I saw him.

The "ghost" of this house was a slave, all right. But not just any slave; it was a majestic condor, the rarest species in possibly the world right now. They say condors are the most valuable slaves, given that they have a force of a thousand men and the loyalty of a knight to his king. This one was lying face up; possibly aware of what would happen to him sooner or later while he was in hiding. On one of his arms he held a bracelet of sorts, and his clothes were tattered and blackened. He kept crying with his eyes closed, sobbing in between gasps, and his wings were stretched out a bit behind him.

I drew my gun in front of him, rapidly breathing, knowing what I was about to do. Moments later, the slave opened his eyes. He didn't react at all. In fact, he looked at me with some very compassionate eyes. I was buying none of it.

As I held my finger to the trigger, however, the feeling of resentment came back. Something inside told me not to kill him, but as much as I tried to shake it off, like all those times I've done it... I couldn't.

I held the gun to his head, but then I felt my arm slowly descending. I tried holding it still, but I simply couldn't. It was like the slave, with only his eyes, was commanding me to stop.

My body started shuddering a bit, but then I couldn't feel it at all! I tried to move my arm again, but I was completely paralyzed! My head was still fixed towards the slave, who now looked at me furiously. Just when I thought it couldn't get worse...

"Sayachin." The slave only softly spoke, but it echoed around my head for a long while. I dropped my weapon and fell to the ground, slamming it with a thud. Everything suddenly started to go black around me. My last thought was if I was going to die.

---

Sometime later, I woke up, still on the ground. My sight was blurred for a moment as I looked around the room. My pistol was nowhere to be found, but the room didn't change at all. As for the slave, he was in front of me, watching me curiously. Of course, I was disarmed and this caught me by surprise, and I recently found out what this slave was capable of. I jumped back in fear, not sure of how to fight back or what to say.

The condor, still acting calm as usual, seemed to notice me just now and only followed me with his eyes as I tried scooting away from him. Gasping lightly, he said, "Uh, I am sorry... I did not mean for you to get hurt..."

Almost immediately I reacted. "Are you crazy? I thought I was dead!" I was getting ready to stand up, but the condor motioned me to stay. Although I did, I really was scared stiff now. After a while, I decided to speak up once again. "So, that... thing you did... do you just do that to scare people?"

He looked at me with a puzzled face. "I never intended to scare anyone. As for that ability... It just comes to me. I've had it ever since the fire consumed this house, but it only shows whenever I get angry or sad." He looked up to the ceiling. "I think I just confused you for someone... please forgive me..."

I calmed down for a bit. I then decided to think about what just happened. The feeling of resentment was with me yet again, and in conjunction with the recent events, I was seriously debating if I could ever continue with this "job" I had. Perhaps this was just a punishment of sorts...

I eyed the condor. Deep inside, I knew he wanted the best for his kind. It is somewhat unfortunate people like us have to get in the way. I never thought I'd see it this way, actually. There was possibly a feeling inside that told me I had a second chance to change for once. I had not a clue what I planned to do, but I was confident it started with him. Perhaps this could be the start of a revolution, not just for me, or for them, but for this entire country...

I stood up and slowly stretched my hand out to the slave, who was being absentminded until now. "I don't know about anyone else who might forgive you for who you are," I said. "But I will."

The condor looked at me a bit worried. Eventually, after a while, he reached for my hand and smiled a bit. "Thank you..." He replied coyly.

I picked him up from the ground and got a better look at the slave. His clothes were still tattered from the fire years ago. He had a scar under his right eye, and he still clutched his necklace tightly in his left hand. "No need to thank me," I said. "Perhaps I should forgive you for acting so violently..."

We stared at each other for a few seconds. I sure hope I don't get caught, but I think I'll take him home for protection, I thought. I know damn right that keeping a slave without consent is illegal and an actual punishable offense nowadays...

"Julio-Andres?" Bernardo bellowed from above us. I forgot I was with company.

The slave looked at me bewildered, but I calmed him down. After I told him to stay quiet, I responded, "I'll be over in a bit! I, uh..." Not sure what to say, I panicked. "Just making sure no ghost roams the place or something!"

"Just get your ass over here now!" Bernardo sneered back. "I'm already getting the creeps just walking around here..." He then started to walk out of the house.

I turned to the slave and asked him, "Can you still use your wings?" The slave nodded, spreading them slowly.

"You haven't forgotten how to fly, now haven't you?"

---

I slowly walked out of the house, remembering to conserve my otherwise obvious fear. As soon as I stepped out, I was greeted by Rodrigo, who had a rather surprised look on his face. "And we all thought you were dead for sure!" Rodrigo then patted me in the back as he walked with me, chuckling. "Bernardo's trying to act tough and Carlos is, uh..." We reached the other two, who were not far from the house, and I saw the hawk on his knees with his eyes closed. "Yep. Still praying."

"Well, what'd ya find?" Bernardo scoffed. He muttered something under his breath, but I was able to hear most of it: "I'm gonna have nightmares for days..."

I sighed and shook my head in response. "Absolutely nothing. You guys are too gullible I'll tell you that..."

Bernardo looked at me suspiciously. "If that's so, then why did I, as soon as I entered to find you, hear you scream from below?"

"That was just me being scared, like any other person would have been, if they entered that blasted basement..." I replied. They can't find out like this, I thought. At least not yet.

"And anything of value?" Rodrigo tapped his foot impatiently.

"Just this..." I held out a golden necklace in my hand. "It was in the basement, and I decided to keep it. Moving anything else would have been a pain, anyway..."

"Seems valuable, but are you really keeping it for your..." Bernardo tapped Rodrigo in the shoulder and gave him a smirk before both of them chanted, in unison, "...one and only?" They both giggled a bit.

"Don't be so pessimist!" I replied. "At least I'm not the one who got ditched por un congresista!" I grinned at Bernardo, sticking my tongue out at him.

The mastiff looked at me with a defeated face. "...let's just get out of here. It's almost night time, so I guess we'll call it a day." He picked up Carlos, who still prayed as he was being dragged out of the scene. Rodrigo sighed and followed him as well, and motioned me to leave. "You wouldn't want a ghost to actually appear, now would you?" He joked.

I started walking, but as soon as he turned around, I immediately ran back to the house. Rodrigo seemed to hear me, so he turned around and shouted, "Hey! Where are you going?"

I turned my head as soon as I got to the doorstep and replied, "Forgot my gun in there! I'll get back home in one piece, don't worry!"

He shrugged at me and started walking faster. As soon as they all were looking away, I took out the necklace from my pocket and threw it high in the air. The slave then flew in from above and softly landed on the ground. He looked around him to find me, and I approached him quickly. "Let's go. I'll tell you where to fly." I said, and mounted him, clutching his feathers as tightly as possible.

He immediately flew up and away into the clouds, and I tried my best not to make a sound throughout the ascent. As I flew up, I could see the trio, looking back, possibly trying to find me, then looking above at the strange flying creature.

"Who are they?" The slave said, pointing to them.

"Just some friends of mine, but I'm not sure either." I replied. Worried that they might shoot, I maintained my head low.

"I know you all were trying to kill me. It's not like you can hide that from me." The condor flatly spoke. "But if you are to hide me from them, then I will try..." I sighed as I was reminded why I was in there in the first place...

The condor made a circle around the house once and then flew forward. It was amazing seeing the world from above. Everything seemed so small in comparison, and I pondered just how far these lands might stretch. The wind blew through my face as I kept observing everything. I sure hoped for more days like these soon...

After some time, I saw the roof of my house. "Down there," I pointed, and the condor slowly descended, making circles around the house until he reached the bottom. Fortunately, it was already starting to get dark, and no one walks around at times like these, so it was pretty quiet and no one was there to notice a slave entering a house.

I opened the door to my house and motioned the slave to enter. He did so quickly, and I followed him inside.

---

"So, how long have you been in that house?" I took a cup of warm tea and handed it to the slave, now wrapped in an old blanket I found from my closet.

He took the cup and carefully sipped a bit before he responded. "I do not know, honestly. It has been too long ever since I saw the light of day. It's been years, I just know it..."

I sat beside him and placed my arm around him. "It's fine. We'll just take it slow at first. Although I have to know who your owner was... do you remember how they looked like?"

The slave closed his eyes slowly, trying to remember the appearance of his past owner. "He was... well, he looked almost like you, but whenever he came down to see me, he would..." He started to quiver a bit. "He always showed me his scar on his left eye, and said that I was the one that did it... That imbecile always hurt me in every way possible...!"

He immediately started to cry, and worried that he might unleash his strange forces on me again, I hugged him tightly. He wrapped my arms around me slowly and started to calm down as I foolishly tried to give him encouraging words. We both stayed like this for some time. It was probably the most embracing hug I've ever given anyone.

"Mother always gave me these hugs when I was in despair..." the slave muttered from my chest. "I have never since then been hugged like that by anyone else. " He looked up to me. "I don't know how to thank you, honestly... for everything..."

He rested his head on my chest. His warmth was very relaxing and calm, which made me relax as well. Perhaps it was one of his abilities acting up again, but for a more pacifist approach. I gently patted his head. "It's fine... there's honestly no need to thank me."

He then let go of my arms and pulled away as he slipped his hand in his pocket. He took out the necklace he had on and handed it over slowly. "I want you to have this. It is a charm; with it, nothing will ever stop you if you are confident." I reached out my hand and carefully picked up the necklace. Upon closer inspection, I found the centerpiece: A small, golden chakana, a sacred symbol to the indians. It was meticulously crafted to appear symmetrical, with all 12 corners of the artifact perfectly sharp. The thing must have weighed at least half a kilogram, due to it being pure gold, but when I placed it around my neck it felt as light as a feather.

I smiled at him as soon as I put on his gift. "Thanks..."

We remained quiet as the slave finished the last of his tea. "So what do you plan to do?" The slave sighed as he set his cup down. "I obviously cannot stay hidden forever."

I remained thoughtful. What should I do? He's right, they're all gonna see him one way or another... I then shook my head. "I'll keep thinking about it. In the meantime, though, we need some rest. You can go over to my bedroom if you'd like... Just..."

"Yes, I am very aware I smell like stagnant water," the slave replied sharply. "I could use the bathroom to at least wash myself first. Not like I'm that ignorant." He then sighed. "...Forgive me if I sounded harsh." He slowly walked past me and entered the bathroom, closing the door.

I looked at the bathroom as I heard the slave slowly turning on the shower. As I headed for my bed I sighed and reflected on what just happened. I abandoned the group, have a slave in hiding with me, and I can't get caught at all. My life has now turned into a riskiest game of chess: one false move means the king, that is, all of my friends and family, will most likely kill me, the knight, while stripping the slave, one pawn of many, of his liberty.

It was a decision I had made, though. No amount of praying would revert it. I slowly started to fall asleep, and I heard the slave step in as well, sitting on the floor. He appeared to then get on his knees and face me, but after that I closed my eyes. He was probably praying for me, knowing that tomorrow was gonna be the start of a new, dangerous journey for the both of us.