The foot traffic is becoming denser as the day carries on but we eventually manage to plod through the crowd a spring shower coming and going by the time we reach the warehouse and drop off the cart.

We hadn’t really needed it but carrying bags through the city with our rank of clothing would be shameful. The cost is worth putting on a better impression.

Outside the store, the bustling crowds in the streets only grow bigger and it is like market day come early.

The noise is like a force of nature with talking, shouting and even singing hitting like the sharp winds of winter. We make our way into the crowd intent on heading back to the inn to read our quest and determine our next steps in relative quiet.

I see Alessia with other women I do not recognise heading inside the city likely coming from the gate. With a sharp intake of breath, I stay still in a moment of desperation wishing to fly away.

She does not see us or pretends not to as she and her friends pass us. Gareth doesn’t seem to notice her. He is too busy grumbling about the crowd and carts ahead congesting the road.

What are the chances? Alessia, you seem happy. Is this the difference that one’s magical pool creates? No, this is how the philosophers, nobility, magi and the have made things for the four estates. They stand above the rest. How happy must this make them? The worst issue they face is asking what the meaning of life is.

Near the city gates in the street before the Adventurer’ Street is where the slave market is set up every week.

Inside the inner wall, only a few hundred metres away are the extravagant townhouses. Here however inside the outer wall is the slave market.

A bustling road without buildings but tents and cages filled with chained bodies. It has a distinctly seedy feel.

The stalls are manned by merchants who dressed the same but their stock is far different. Some stalls had a selection of male, non-binary, intersex and female, slaves. Some sold just males for labour. Others specialise in the all-female stock or less common an all-male product focusing on sexual appeal. I know that Inter-sex slaves are usually sold for exotic appeal and dehumanised even more than most sex slaves.

The sordidness of the place was emphasised by the fact that only the richer stalls had their slaves dressed and healthy most chose, except for chains around the wrists and ankles, to leave the slaves naked and exposed.

Then you got the worst places where the slaves were unhealthy most of these were filled with males and only a few females; these places went with quantity over quality and had them locked together in cages.

This is the fate of the beast-skins. Well, I do see a human there as well. I suppose I should reserve my judgment. Still, I dislike the mistreatment it makes no sense and as civilised folk, we should not stoop to such savagery as poorly treating the slaves. They are our responsibility, seeing such a display of misconduct is distasteful.

Gareth stares down the street and I follow his line of sight. A thin, well dressed cis woman is buying what looks to be a young beast-skin boy with two rabbit ears poking out.

I look away and see a balding human cis man dragging a plump Elf-human from two crying children also Elf-human she tries to hug them through the iron bars of their cage. The balding man smacks her on the side of the head with his stick and she goes limp.

"Come on, Gareth. We don’t need to watch this, I will pay for lunch then we can check out the quest. Okay?" I say to him, but he doesn’t respond.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"This is not the first slave sale you have ever seen what makes this time different?" I ask.

"We can buy their freedom now. We never had the coin to do so before." He responds turning to look me in the eye. "Please, we are sword and sorcery slingers. I am okay with that but look at them." He points to two beast-skins a few feet away he walks over closer and I follow.

Cat-skin judging by the mud-encrusted black fur cat ears and tails. I wince looking at them on the ground in rags their emaciated bodies telling their suffering without words. They are dead or asleep. Asleep, I guess in iron cages barely wide enough to fit one person let alone two.

A handsome man likely in his mid-thirties with faint stubble comes over. His slick blond hair and piercing blue eyes draw the eye.

"Oh, I would not linger too long over them. My apprentice must have forgotten to take them away. Markus, come here." He says with a melodious voice.

A young man comes out from the tent. The handsome man slaps him on the head "Stupid, lad. Hurry and dispose of the bodies."

"Sorry, customers. Most of my goods have been sold for the day." The handsome man says with a pearl white smile. "Magi, I presume back from a trip? I have a docile bitch left over. Perfect for taking care of the household and other needs you may have."

Gareth is strangely silent, I glance over him and his lips curl with an expression of disgust I have rarely seen him wear.

"If you do not want to lose your head speak quickly. The price of the two Cat-skins." I speak up.

"I would gladly sell but how can I give out damaged goods. I have my reputation to consider." He says with mock sincerity.

"Fuck your reputation, you piece of piss." I reply letting magic dance from my fingers a mana arrow forming to skewer the scum.

"Dear customer, your bravado is clear but attack and you will be swarmed by guards in seconds your position ruined. I am no fool your threats go too far."

"The price and you leave wealthier and breathing, trader of flesh." I say.

"Speak and we leave in peace. Your goods disposed of." Gareth speaks up his face expressionless and tone flat.

"A gold each."

"Done." Gareth says tossing our savings into eager hands.

Fucking seriously. Our savings spend on sickly slaves. Does a good deed put food in our belly or pay for a house? Will it do anything to raise our names? So be it. For Gareth.

"They are yours, Magi." He says with a false smile and a glower.

"Thanks." I say with a snarl as the slave trader opens the pens and gestures to the cat-skins inside.

With a quick bit of magic Gareth slings one of each shoulder with ease. They are but skin and bones and he walks away with them carrying both with ease. We draw many stares far more than I am comfortable with I raise my hood likely to little difference.

"We don’t have money to buy another." Gareth says as we walk.

"Two is enough, we can’t save them all." I respond with a smile, feeling bitter both in the knowledge that we are poor and in our powerlessness.

Two dying people about to be discarded are all we can change whose lives we can prolong and perhaps bring joy. One each.

"Just one more. If I sold my sword I could."

"My friend, there would be another one more and if you sold your clothes and your body there would still be one more and you would be the slave in all but name forced to live on the scraps of the privileged as they abuse your body until your righteous spirit breaks and death takes you."

He glares at me in response.

"The slave economy has been here for a thousand years. However, many we buy. They will make more. The appetites of the citizens of Athfens' are bottomless."

His face is blank.

"It is tradition their grandparents had slaves, they grew up with slaves and now as adults, they want their own. It is a tradition passed down from parent to child till it is ingrained in their bodies. They know no different."

I grab him by the collar.

"Let it go, these two need us." I say gesturing to the two emaciated beast-skins.

"A ritual for each, we will use all our ritual components."

"Yes, the coven will wait."

Too proud to explain ourselves we nonetheless make it back promptly.