"Today's morning grade two auction will soon begin." A nasal voice soon pierced the thick curtain wall and travelled downward into the lowered section they were sitting in before some of the older slaves around Alexandre regained their breath after the march.
Some people came over and began to place a blank wooden sign around everyone's neck. They were not the only group of slaves present as there were two groups of sixteen on either side of the Senchor, in addition, there were eight collared slaves positioned right against the curtain making the total amount of people sold eighty-eight.
If the tavern talk wasn't an outright lie, being a grade two meant you were not exotic, healthy or obedient enough to the slavers' liking but at the same time, you weren't considered only good for manual labour. That would explain the eight people split evenly between the sexes sitting blankly at their own feet looking rougher than some mugging victims back in the slums.
Looking away, trying not to dwell for too long as to who could do such a thing to the mindless eight, Alexandre took to watching the unarmed workers going around each carefully marked section doing whatever they were doing. He didn't fool himself into thinking getting a hostage would somehow free him. There were simply too many angles he couldn't protect himself. Even if he curled into a ball in the corner there were spells which cut through both walls and flesh equally effectively. He simply watched them trying to take his mind off what was soon to happen.
As the ruckus coming from behind the curtain got louder he found a slight amusement in watching the slaves to his left being swarmed by workers carrying sets of dusty brushes and vials of colourful glassware.
Wonder how much the guy spends on making them look prettier for a couple of bells?
Those sorts of off-coloured potions were rather common to find for him in merchant warehouses, selling for a silver each and most of that price was for the vial itself if it was high quality. One would imagine that in a city full of magically gifted there wouldn't be a need for cheap counterfeits but reality would appear contrary to common sense.
"I welcome my most esteemed guests and customers to today's late-night auction. Today and only in this auction, we hold exotic bundles for you to buy today, delivered and trained by the best in their trade!" A sick-inducing joyful voice shouted over the common clamour of a crowd before the curtain split in the middle, the pale magical light shining right into Alexandre's eyes.
Peering over the edge he saw a. great big hall with a second floor hanging above the first shimmered into existence as the Senchor's eyes adjusted to light. Albeit spacious there was a lack of people filling it leaving great spots of green empty chairs between each person.
"Not a lot of people."
"Expected more people to want to buy you?" The tattooed woman turned toward Alexandre with a smirk, whispering to him as a group beside him was made to stand up and walk onto the stage.
"No, not really."
"It's better this way anyway." She replied, her hand rubbing the twins' backs.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
"Why is that?" Alexandre raised his eyebrow.
"Less people to buy you means there is going to be less competition which leads to them spending less."
"And why would that matter?" Alexandre asked.
"Because if they spent a pretty penny on you, they expect you to sweat and bleed that pretty penny." The woman chatted to the thief as if they were simply strolling through a garden.
"You seem to know a lot."
"Thanks for noticing."
"You're not worried, for all you know you could end up in the mines tomorrow?" Even if he planned to escape after being sold and find his sister, Alexandre did feel his hands sweat from the nerves causing the cuffs he was locked in to annoyingly slide up and down his wrists, unfortunately not enough to slip them off.
"Not really," She replied before straightening her back and causing the winged figure tattooed on her neck to unfold her wings. "Can't see any big players meaning that at worst your pretty face will be put to work."
"Ten gold pieces for these athletic eight going once!" A shout rolled into the trench.
Alexandre wasn't sure how to respond and the woman took the opportunity to turn around and began to whisper to the other slaves.
"Sold!...Five golden ones, seven, twelve, fourteen gold coins for a pair of half-elves. Going once, twice, remember these half-magic blood in them and they are well trained. Sold!..."
The sound of the auction blended together into one as the announcer's magically applied voice began to describe his merchandise in detail, offering special deals like a baker selling his morning bread. Eventually, armed guards pulled on a chain connecting eight slaves, Alexandre amongst them and paraded them forward.
Nothing changed, the mostly empty hall remained as empty as he previously saw it yet the piercing eyes of the buyers couldn't be ignored.
[Inspection Detected]
[Inspection Detected]
[Inspection Detected]
No wonder he had seen the people before him wincing as a constant ringing caused the world around him to blur from the tears gathering in the corner of his eye.
"Step right up, gather 'round, for I have before you today a most remarkable offering. Fine gentry, what we have here are not just any individuals, but hand-picked, carefully selected for their calm, subdued, and steady temperaments. This bundle of slaves have been chosen for their quiet natures, making them ideal for homes or estates where peace and tranquillity are the highest virtues. Now, let me tell you why these souls are a rare find. These individuals are not prone to unrest, to disruption, or rebellion. They have been tested, they have been observed, and they have proven themselves to be steady, obedient, and reliable. They understand their place and the expectations upon them. No wild spirits, no unruly temperaments. You can trust them to keep the peace in your household, your fields, or your stables, wouldn't buy them for my mother-in-law though, " The colourfully dressed man grabbed Alexandre's wrist and pulled it upward before letting it go as he continued addressing the audience. "Take a look at this one here—strong and capable, yet docile as a lamb. You won't find resistance in him, no, only an eagerness to work and to please. Whether it be in the house or the fields, you’ll have no trouble here. And the woman beside him, calm as a still pond—perfect for tending to your young ones, or assisting with delicate household tasks. A steady hand, and a gentle heart, are qualities that ensure not just work, but loyalty without the need for reminders. These individuals will bring nothing but harmony to your estate. You won't have to raise your voice, no need for harsh discipline. Their spirit is already moulded to be compliant and accommodating. All eight of these are yours starting at fifteen gold coins!"
Senchor bit the inside of his cheek as he heard the starting price the man with a red hat presented after so much talking. Even if he was the thing being sold.
"Ohh, come on good people is the curseling over there stopping you from buying?" The auctioneer pointed at the black-as-coal human with fiery eyes seemingly deep in prayer before carefully examining the room. "Unchain her and put her with a group intended for Geni'i." He said to the guard with a look of foreseeing this situation before turning around. "Seven slaves for the price of eight who couldn't take such an offer!"
"I'm scared," One of the street mice said as he leaned back watching the curseling being uncoupled from the rest. "What's going to happen to her."
"Do you remember what I said? About the bell of the raven." The woman asked.
"The raven’s bell rings in the gloom,
Whispers wishes, stirs the room,
Close your eyes, but don’t look twice,
For every wish must pay a price.
On shadowed wings, your dreams take flight,
Under the stars, on wings of night." The other twin seemed to repeat a melody which caused the woman to turn toward the crowd with a blank stare and a strangely sinister smile.
"Fifteen from the-" The auctioneer's voice rose as he held a runic stone before being cut off by an explosion sending fiery splinters into the stand.
"After me, people!" The tattooed woman shouted as she dove from the stage, pulling others behind her. "Do not look, keep your faces down and don't stand up!" Alexandre felt a hand pressing his head down against the floor as screams and confused shouts were drowned out by more explosions.