The darkness of night had descended, and only the dim, golden light of the campfire lit the vast woodlands. A group of bandits sat around the crackling flames, half a day's ride from Eldoria, a bustling trade city that was to be their destination. The light danced across their faces, while further off, the boy finally started to stir, coming around from the blow that had knocked him out cold some time before.

Thug One slowly sharpened his knife, his gaze lazily moving to the dancing flames. Thug Two lay back with a piece of dried meat, gnawing on it and from time to time looking at the boy. Finally, Kael, sitting opposite them, broke the silence.

"Ah, you're finally awake, are you? It took you quite a while," Kael remarked, casting the boy a frosty look. "That's good. You'll need all your strength for the journey still ahead of us."

The boy blinked awake, his gaze following the dancing embers of the fire. His tummy growled but he hadn't quite cognized this thing called hunger-not in a conscious way, at any rate. He looked around at the desultory scraps of food the bandits were gnawing.

Thug Two smirked, which tossed a piece of bread in his direction; the morsel struck him squarely in the chest. The boy's bound hands strained to pick it up, clumsily fumbling with the crust.

"Look at him," Thug Two chuckled. "You'd think the kid never ate before in his life."

"He'll figure it out," Kael growled, not even looking at him. "We need him in one piece, so he'd best eat. The traders in Eldoria won't pay for a starved corpse." The boy clumsily sank his teeth into the bread, trying to handle it in the same manner as the bandits. He chewed slowly, his jaw working against the texture, before swallowing with great difficulty. His movements were stiff, almost robotic, as he tried understanding the actions happening around him. The bandits briefly looked towards him and went back to their meal without much noticing. Thug One cleaned the edge of his knife on his sleeve, casting a glance at Kael. "He hardly reacted to the chaos of the battlefield, yet he loses it over rabbits being skinned. What's going on with that?"

"Perhaps he has seen too much," Thug Two said with a shrug. "Still, it is weird. He's powerful, but his brain. who knows?"

Kael was leaning against a log, his eyes now turning to the boy. "That matters naught," he said. "He is just a payday. When we finally reach Eldoria, we can sell him to the highest bidder. Many traders go there for fresh bodies: refugees, travelers, and some of those rich types eager for workers.

Eldoria-a name that inspires both respect and loathing in equal measures.

The trade city stood as the second-largest in the Kingdom of Azeroth, second only to the capital of Valeria. Despite its wealth and teeming streets, the city was teeming with refugees fleeing the civil war that had turned much of the countryside into battlegrounds. A hub, a teeming melting pot of goods, merchants, and less savory figures alike, Eldoria actually managed to thrive.

It was a world where gold was superior to ethics and questions were abandoned as long as the coin kept its value.

The name bit deep into his subconscious as his mind wandered. He remembered nothing about such places or trade and money, but their words had echoed in his mind: payday, bargain, sell him off. Everything that defined a person was nothing but a price. Kael took a pull from his flask and nodded toward the boy. "What in the world was that earlier? The way he panicked-screaming like a banshee at those damned rabbits."

"He's probably touched in the head," Thug One said, hunching forward over the fire. "Can't blame him, really. A kid like that, seein' all that carnage."

"Doesn't matter," Kael said snappishly. "We need him quiet, not causing trouble."

The boy sat silent, gnawing on the bread. His face did not show it, but a flicker of understanding stirred. It was something fundamental the rabbits' deaths had shown-a fact he had not known was: they lay there, their eyes frozen, shining without seeing, and they would never move again. And in that one moment, he knew what death was. Its certainty weighed heavy on his stomach.

Still, the feeling would not place. His mind spun in fragments: tapestries of disconnected memory and half-seen pictures that danced beyond his grasp. The battlefield, his brother, the rabbits-all wove together in some maddening dance that left him drifting, lost in sensations he did not have words for. He stared into the fire, frozen, as the concept of death took silent root within him.

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Thug Two leaned back, stretching. "Kid's quiet now. Good."

"Doesn't matter," Kael said to him, glancing at the boy. "We'll hit Eldoria by tomorrow. So long as he stays outta trouble, everything's cool.

The campfire crackled low as the bandits set their watch rotation. The eyes of the boy did not leave the flames, his mind elsewhere. Everything he had seen-weighted upon him, though he could hardly be said to understand it. But he did not flail or scream as he had previously. He simply watched, wordless, as the fire danced before him.

Morning finally dawned over the slums of Eldoria as the bandits began to stir to life in the faint, gray light of dawn, which cast long shadows. First up was Kael, who packed up his bedroll with swift efficiency.

"Get up," he called to the rest, his voice gravelly from a restless night. "We've work to do."

The others groaned but obeyed.

Thug Two yanked the boy to his feet with little care, dragging him as they gathered their things and started across in the direction of the city. Eldoria loomed in the distance, its imposing walls demarcating the line between the thriving trade center and the uncivilised environs beyond.

The boy trudged onward in silence, his eyes barely conscious of the imposing presence of the city as he made his way toward the slums-the hidden part of Eldoria, where shadows were king and back-alley deals were made far from prying legal eyes.

The group navigated through the cramped, sordid streets until they finally arrived at a building distinguished only by a discreet emblem. The black market.

Inside, the air was heavy with the acrid smell of damp and decay. Stolen treasures piled high on worn wooden shelves, while to the back, a slick merchant sat counting copper coins with deft fingers. Kael unceremoniously spilled a bag of pilfered goods onto the counter.

"Just got back from the battlefield," Kael grunted.

The merchant looked indolently at the sack in front of him, pulled something out, and peered at the royal crest engraved on it. His brow furrowed.

"Royal goods, huh?" said the merchant, unmoved. "That's dangerous merchandise. Can't sell these out in the open."

Kael folded his arms. "You think I don't know that? Just tell me what they're worth."

The trader rummaged in the pile, dragging out arms and baubles and scraps of armour. He muttered to himself as he counted, then shook his head in disgust.

"I'll give you 20 copper per piece. Total comes to. 220 coppers."

Kael's eyes pinched. "220? You're trying to rob me blind, these are royal items."

The merchant shrugged. "You want more, find someone else willing to take this risk. No one in Eldoria's black market will touch these unless they want to end up in a noose."

Kael took a firmer grasp on his fists, when he was clearly disconcerted by it, and he knew the merchant spoke the truth. He snatched the 220 copper the merchant had counted out, grumbling curses as they left, continuing deeper into the slums toward the slave trader's den.

They approached a small, ramshackle building sandwiched between crumbling walls. Inside the structure stood Harlan, the slave trader, a tall figure with a thin build, a narrow face, and eyes cold as ice. He looked up as Kael and the others entered.

"Well, if it isn't Kael," Harlan sneered. "What have you brought me this time? More pitiful stock?"

Kael pushed the boy forward, his voice even. "Here's a kid-young and strong. You'll fetch a good price for him."

Harlan stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he took a closer look. His expression turned sour in an instant.

"How old is this child?" Harlan muttered, squinting his eyes. "He looks to be about five but is small of stature for his age." He walked around the boy, screwing up his face as he examined the child's appearance. "Did you even attempt to clean him up before bringing him to me? Just look at him-long black hair, tangled and dirty. It hardly seems that you tried to make him presentable."

Kael kept quiet, his arms crossed, while Harlan proceeded with the assessment.

"Skinny as a twig," Harlan said with a sneer. "No better than the refugee brats scurrying around outside the city walls. About the only thing that might be remotely interesting about him are those gold eyes, and that's not going to make much difference, either."

Thug Two, realizing the conversation was getting away from him, quickly jumped in. "You're missing the best part-this kid's been touched by mana."

Harlan's eyes snapped up. "Mana, you say?

Thug Two nodded enthusiastically. "He's got strength-more than you'd anticipate from a kid of his size. But he's still too young to fully harness it."

In an instant, Harlan's demeanour changed. Mana-enhanced slaves were few and very expensive, far surpassing the prices of normal ones. His gaze returned to the boy with newfound interest. "

I'll give you 3 silvers for him," Harlan said.

Still smarting from the earlier argument with the merchant, Kael wasn't about to let Harlan off so easily. "You were ready to toss him out for 1 silver just a second ago. He's worth 5 silver at least."

The sneer returned to Harlan's face, but he didn't back down. "Four silver, Kael. That's my final offer."

Kael hesitated, weighing his options carefully. Four silver was a fair price—especially after the let down with the merchant—but he wasn't quite ready to concede just yet. He shot a glare at Harlan, yet the slaver appeared utterly unfazed. After a lengthy pause, Kael finally gave a reluctant nod.

"Agreed." Harlan passed the coins to Kael, who nodded for his men to release the boy into the slaver's custody. Harlan offered the boy one last look, feeling that he had left a sour taste in his mouth, but the knowledge that a mana-touched slave would prove worthwhile in the end.

The transaction complete, the brigands left the store, Kael dropping the silver coins into his pocket with a grim sense of satisfaction. Once more the boy's fate lay in another's hands.