Chapter 109: Slave dealers (Second Part)
I advanced with careful steps wondering why only the light coming from the open door and from an opaque glass ceiling was used on such an imposing building.
The darkness obstructing my eyes, fortunately, didn’t have the same impact on my senses, so I wasn’t surprised when two men abruptly emerged from the shadow on my right, as if they had been waiting for that moment the entire day.
I took a discreet step back to subtly put myself out of their reach, and tried to observe their faces more closely.
“What are you doing here, kid?” asked the first one, a scrawny man with long dark hair reaching almost to his waist. His skin was unclean, his teeth yellowed, but his mane of hair was strangely well-maintained and looked almost shiny. However, even his perfumed hair wasn't able to mask the strong odor of liquor that appeared as soon as he opened his mouth.
“Fuck off,” simply muttered the other much younger man who appeared deeply displeased to have been forced to stand up for me. This man looked healthy and strong, much more than his more experienced colleague standing next to him, but he still gave me a strange impression.
I wasn’t able to put my finger on it until I crossed his gaze.
His round dark eyes should have betrayed a kind of naivety that men barely out of their adolescence like him should have, but all I saw as I crossed these two black pearls was indifference as if he had seen all that life could offer and wasn’t impressed by it.
Maybe that’s why he was in this sordid place at his age with a man visibly already consumed by his vices.
“I won’t say it again, kid. Get lost!” he grumbled. “Don’t you know what kind of place this is?” he asked helplessly with his hands raised to show me the rest of the building.
If even the exterior of the building appeared immaculate, it would have been surprising if the interior was much more different. However, behind this apparent cleanliness, it wasn’t hard to discern the true ugliness of this place that the young man in front of me was trying to show.
The marble floor was impeccable, but the cracks strangely placed were proof enough that this floor had welcomed more than willing feet. It certainly didn’t look like natural wear and tear, but more like something or someone had violently hit this floor to create these few cracks spreading like spiderwebs. Other discreet traces and crooks could be observed with an attentive eye on the otherwise impeccable walls painted in an elegant and sober dark blue, like a small stain on an otherwise immaculate picture.
The dim lighting also probably helped to hide a few more of these imperfections, like the discreet flight of stairs at a corner of the room leading downstairs.
“I know exactly where I am,” I simply answered after a quick look around.
The massive marble stairs leading to the second floor, the glistening chandelier hanging from the ceiling and oscillating in a regular, almost hypnotic movement along with the elegant furnitures all around me, including the wooden and polished desk behind my interlocutors, weren’t enough for me to forget where I was standing.
The loud, vulgar laugh from the other man, who was now looking at me with more interest than I was comfortable with, interrupted my next sentence.
“Want to stay a bit with us?” he asked while throwing his hair back, in a pitiful attempt to appear more dignified.
To me, this man didn’t appear much different from this building. He had spent an unhealthy amount of time combing and taking care of his hair, but he couldn’t make the consequences of his choices in life so easily disappear.
In the same way, the people responsible for this building had spent too much effort to make any visible stain disappear that it appeared forced and unnatural. Each remaining trace was like a blatant admission and no amount of polishing was able to completely hide this place’s true nature.
“What do you say girly,” he added once more in a guttural, insufferable voice that made my hand twitch in annoyance without even considering that he had confounded me with a girl, something Jazor also once did when we first met.
I didn’t want to waste more time than necessary on these people, but the vast hall was desperately empty for now, so I repressed my annoyance and didn’t bother to try to correct him and instead addressed the second man.
“I’m here to see Walmir, is he here?”
“Walmir?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you know him?”
“Eh! Don’t ignore me,” interrupted the senior of this strange pair.
“Shut up, man,” immediately countered his teammate, visibly annoyed by his very presence.
I relaxed slightly when I saw the two men start bickering with each other.
I couldn’t let their respective appearance fool me and make me drop my guard as there was no way to know their true strength before a confrontation.
My magic senses that had served me so well on so many occasions couldn’t help me with this task, because this was precisely the nature of the magic of this world that the people who had tried to classify mages with pompous titles hadn’t understood.
It was impossible to know just how far on the path of magic each person had gone. They could be limited to the Kingdom’s teaching, exhorting mages to master the speed, the form, and the control of each magic with barrier magic, or they could have already started to understand the true nature of the elements like I did myself.
The aspects of an element gave each mage the possibility to create a magic with this fundamental truth of this element as a base. However, what kind of magic was created, from which aspect, and to what extent it was mastered, was impossible to guess.
Fortunately, the reverse was also true.
In fact, the situation was considerably worse for them as not only was it strictly impossible for this pair to guess my true strength, but they were also probably severely underestimating it.
As members of the sordid business of slave trade, they had probably been used to dealing with many children of different races with their only common point being their inherent weakness imposed upon them by their growing bodies unable to demonstrate the natural physical strength of their race or their ability to manipulate mana regardless of their potential.
However, I wasn’t like all the other children they had seen.
Admittedly, it was still impossible for me to demonstrate safely my full potential, as my young growing body wouldn’t tolerate it, but I was sure that the powers I had at my disposal were unlike what they had seen in any other children. The abilities I had slowly developed, the magic I created and improved all along my journey through the deadly encounters and desperate battles I had fought made me completely different from any other defenseless child that these two men had previously encountered.
That’s why at this moment when they were still arguing between them and barely looking at me anymore, I realized with absolute certainty that I could kill these two men without breaking a sweat.
I would certainly rid the world of men who had probably done more bad than good in their lives, but I couldn’t be violent in this place, not in such a way. I didn’t want to start a conflict for once, but I also intended to keep the extent of my abilities hidden to continue enjoying the same kind of relaxed and careless attitude these two men were showing me.
Not to mention, that a child showing magical potential would be much more likely to attract unwanted attention, and potentially earn me a place among the other slaves in the basement.
“I told you to shut up!” screamed the youngest of these two men.
“And I told you to fuck off!” suddenly shouted the other man, visibly exasperated by his colleague's attempts to control his impulses and desires.
I didn’t care about vulgarities, about careless words, or insults. More than anything else, because I couldn’t afford to make a scene right now. However, when the long-haired man, obviously aggravated to have been ignored by me and shut down by his colleague, took a few abrupt steps forward and raised his hand to catch my arm, things became different.
With a quick motion he hadn’t anticipated, I slapped his hand away with a backhand. The loud slap that echoed through the empty hall seemed to have paralyzed the unsavory man in front of me, as he registered what had just happened.
“You little!” he growled, with his brows furrowed in surprise and anger.
“EDGAR!”
If a simple slap had made such an impressive noise, the echo of this scream of anger was obviously much more impressive and stopped him dead in his tracks, with his hand half-raised.
I knew this voice and didn’t need to search for the figure of its owner, approaching our small group with hurried steps from a distant door I hadn’t seen until now. The black-haired man, forced to abruptly interrupt his revenge, sent me a last murderous glance before plastering a much more amiable expression on his face.
The youngest of this unpleasant duo took a few discreet steps back as soon as he noticed that it was Walmir, dressed in an elegant red tunic very different from his usual travel-worn clothes, who was crossing the distance separating us in strong strides not impeded in the least by the abnormal dim interior.
“What do you think you’re doing you cursed idiot?”
“I…”
“It wasn’t a real question, dumbass! Get the hell out of my face!”
His face ashen, the reprimanded guard didn’t need Walmir to say anything more to swiftly get out of the building; his comrade had already left him alone to face Walmir with impressive discretion.
“Are you alright, Sillath?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s why I told you to bring Jazor with you in my letter. With him here, this moron would have not dared to act that way.”
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Jazor is busy elsewhere,” I replied helplessly. Considering the current state of the city, asking for one of its strongest defenders — one who had just arrived on top of that — to leave his new post for a personal request was completely out of the question.
However, even if Jazor had been free, I probably wouldn’t have chosen to ask him to come with me. It was my decision to rescue Himara and Seth, so I couldn’t expect him to pay for their freedom or solve all the problems that would arise because of this decision.
“So, why did you need me to come all the way here,” I finally asked after a few seconds of silence. “I thought you would have simply written the date of the auction in your letter.
With his fresh clothes, his shaven face, and carefully combed hair, Walmir was already completely ridden of the traces of our long and perilous journey. He easily looked ten years younger than before, and could almost pass as a distinguished gentleman in some circles. Something completely impossible for a born-warrior like Ilan who could bathe and sleep all day long and never lose the edge of violence and thirst for battle evident on his face.
However, the embarrassed and nervous expression he made immediately after my question was far from his new elegance and the commanding authority he had shown to the two guards.
“Is something wrong,” I asked slowly, sensing doubt and worry creep up within me. “Are Himara and Seth safe?”
“Yes, they are. Don’t worry,” he immediately confirmed, making me heave a sigh of relief. “However, my boss wants to meet you.”
“Meet me? Why?” I prudently asked.
“I’m not sure, but maybe it would be best if you came back with Jazor…”
Walmir’s sudden reluctance gave me a very bad feeling about this whole situation, but I couldn’t back down now.
“No, let’s go,” I assured him.
With the same conflicted expression on his face, Walmir turned away from the half-opened door and started to walk with measured steps across the vast hall. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one that the ambient darkness somewhat bothered. Something I couldn’t help but ask him about while we were both climbing the elegant marbled steps leading us to the second floor.
“It’s because of my boss,” he slowly explained. “I’m not completely aware of the details, but his eyes were injured many years ago and since then he doesn’t tolerate light very well.”
I didn’t have time to ask any more questions as the first door to the left of the stairs was our destination. Walmir barely had the time to knock a couple of times on it when the heavy-looking mahogany door was so abruptly opened that it forced him to quickly get out of the way.
The man who had opened with such tactless brutality had immediately taken a step forward as if he wanted to replace the very door he had just opened. An easy task for this mountain-like man easily towering over Walmir by more than two heads and making even someone like Ilan looks frail. The difference in height was of course even more exaggerated with me, to the point that I couldn’t help but take a reflexive step back.
Surely not the best way to show confidence, but a natural reaction when confronted with a man probably over seven feet tall who was forced to bend his head to prevent it from crashing into the doorframe especially since the rest of his stocky body, laden with impressively bulging muscles, was in accordance with his disproportionate height.
He looked to be over forty and already had a head full of disheveled gray hair along with a beard of the same color trimmed into a long braid not dissimilar to the way Dwarves styled their beards. The lighting was barely better on the second floor, but it was enough for me to notice with a glance his huge glaring brown eyes that measured me up with unpleasant, unsettling expressions in them.
“Who are you?” he asked with a menacing, metallic voice that sounded like a dog’s bark.
“It’s him that Sooreman wanted to see.”
Walmir’s hurried words didn’t immediately pacify the man, but instead seemed to make his vigilance rise and the inquisition in his eyes intensified.
With a twist of his body, he readjusted the sheepskin over his bare shoulders and rippled his long white fur cape at the same time. His loose grey shirt also opened slightly, revealing part of a massive and intriguing tattoo on the left side of his chiseled chest. My attention didn’t stay long on this curious tattoo despite the strange impression it gave me as I also caught a glimpse of a battleaxe, not too dissimilar to the one Jazor had lost, strapped to his back and almost reaching his ankles. An impressive weapon certainly impossible to use in a closed environment, which was certainly the reason why his left fist was clad in a massive golden glove going up to his elbow and obviously made more for offense than for defense.
“Let them in.”
The authoritative gaze heightened by the natural sharp features of the man blocking our way immediately softened when this slightly glum voice reached us.
More nimbly than I could have imagined from someone with such a massive frame, he got out of the way and let us into a dimly lit office whose only source of filtered light was a window with thick glass as opaque as the glass ceiling of the hall.
This peculiar lighting made the man sitting behind a large oak desk just in front of this window at the center of this room all the more noticeable.
“Don’t be shy, come closer.”
With the same uninterested voice, the man motioned for us to enter with his eyes fixed on a strange purple orb sitting in the very center of his desk crammed with volumes and piled with rolls of parchment unceremoniously put aside to give more space to the mysterious object levitating a few inches above the table with a soft, almost soothing hum. This strange but peaceful melody made me forget for an instant why I had entered this office in the first place. It took a considerable and worrying amount of effort to finally tear my eyes away from it and even more effort to put the questions about this magical object to the back of my mind.
The owner of this building and boss of the mountain of muscle standing behind me and Walmir with his massive arms crossed was, for his part, in no hurry to put the object aside or even look in our direction.
His head stayed stubbornly lowered with his long ashen-grey hair covering most of his face as if he had already forgotten our arrival.
A few minutes in this relative silence, made me start to wonder if I had to make a sound to get his attention, but a single serious glance from Walmir confirmed to me that it would be a terrible idea.
When my eyes finally adjusted to the ambient darkness, it allowed me to notice a few more details around me as my gaze wandered to make this forced waiting more bearable. Like the massive pulpit in a corner of the room literally covered with pills of books, vellum, great sheets of paper, bottles of ink, bunches of quills, and innumerable utensils much less mysterious than the purple orb. A single candle, for the time being, extinguished, was used for this pulpit to enlighten the office otherwise too dark for any kind of comfortable reading.
I also understood why among the strong odor of fresh parchment and ink, I was also able to discern the peculiar odor of mold and fresh earth.
Despite the poor lighting, I noticed multicolored lupin, something similar to an agave in the corner of the room along with half a dozen potted plants of unknown nature put in every corner of the wide squared room. Even an ivy blue plant that looked poisonous no matter how much I looked at it was calmly growing all along the wall on my right.
The presence of so many plants in an office almost devoid of natural light raised a few questions about their origin and needs, but also about their owner that I would have never imagined as a nature’s lover. One of these questions was immediately answered when Walmir’s boss finally tore his eyes away from the purple orb with a satisfied smile on his lips and raised his head.
I barely noticed the piercing blue eyes of the man, his high forehead, narrow nose, and thin lips giving him an elegance and natural beauty I rarely saw among men in the course of my two lives. I also mostly ignored the left side of his face covered by dense hair just like I ignored his healthy pale skin covered with reddish tattoos on his chest and neck similar and with the same strange appeal as the one on his subordinate, but more elegant and refined.
My entire focus was on his ears. One of them was clipped but the other was pointing beyond the mass of his grey hair near a thin plait braid at his temple.
It was an elven ear.
As soon as I crossed his gaze, and saw mirth in his blue eyes along with an impudent smile on his lips, I realized that he was perfectly aware of the numerous questions crossing my mind at this instant.
However, I wasn’t here to know this man’s story; to learn how an elf would choose to do this kind of work or how he could end up in this city dominated by Humans and Dwarves.
His chin resting on his long crossed fingers and with an insufferable provocative smile plastered on his face, the man had his entire attention devoted to me with the same intensity as when he was looking at the purple orb now pushed aside to let his elbows rest on his desk. With deliberate slowness, he turned his eyes to his right as if this side of the room stuffed with potted plants had something of interest to show him.
I soon understood that it wasn’t the case as his gaze was still on me the whole time, but the movement made his long hair slide from his face and revealed its left side mostly hidden before. A single word crossed my mind as I did my best to control and hide any reaction of revulsion.
Ravaged.
I didn’t know what had rendered this side of his face so mutilated, so deeply deformed but I was suddenly even less comfortable than before just imagining the kind of pain this man had to endure. The sight of his previously hidden face was certainly surprising and displeasing, but this wasn’t all.
After the initial shock, I realized that among the claw marks all around his left eye and cheek, were scars of burns, but not of the common kind. More like as if the skin had dried up instead of being simply burned. I had seen this kind of wound before.
“Have you seen enough, boy?”
My realization was cut short when the man finally had enough of my staring.
I awkwardly swallowed and put any stray thought to the back of my head.
I didn’t know what he hoped to accomplish by showing me his wound, but it certainly wasn’t for intimidation as his guard standing still and towering over us from behind was more than enough for this purpose.
“Walmir didn’t lie. You’re not ordinary. Your reaction was far from what I usually get when children see my whole face. The kids Walmir brought gave me a much more… satisfying reaction,” he chuckled.
“Are they alright?” I hurriedly asked after hearing him mention Seth and Himara.
Another similar smile made me realize that I had already made a mistake.
The simplest mistake done in any kind of negotiation.
I showed obvious interest.
“Don’t worry, your little friends are well-fed and resting in a warm place which is more than many of their kind could hope for in such troubled times.”
I nodded slowly and swallowed hard. I had trouble focusing correctly with most of my attention dedicated to the mountain of muscle behind me, and this man knew it. With a satisfied smile on his lips, he watched me for long seconds before suddenly slapping his forehead in an exaggerated movement as if he had suddenly remembered something
“Where are my manners? I totally forgot to properly introduce myself. I suppose this kind of thing can happen when you get distracted by ancient artifacts. My name is Sooreman and I’m the owner of this modest place.”
With an amiable expression on his face, whose mutilated half was once more covered by his hair longer on his left side, he clearly waited for me to do the same despite obviously knowing the answer already.
“I’m Sillath,” I mumbled.
“Nice to meet you, Sillath. How do you like our city?” he asked with the same amiable expression.
I didn’t know where this man was going with this kind of attitude and useless talk. It was as if he was trying to gauge my reactions. Almost like he wanted to know me better, something I definitely didn’t want to do with someone like him for I understood the moment I stepped into this dimly lit room that Ilan was right.
This man was dangerous.
Maybe more than his bodyguard.
His nature as an elf made him naturally a threat that I couldn’t ignore, not to mention that even from this distance, I had trouble sensing his existence.
I wanted to limit our interactions to the strict minimum, but I couldn’t do that if I truly wanted to free Seth and Himara. Therefore, I pushed the questions about this sudden summon and played his game.
“It’s alright, I guess. Certainly much better than outside the walls considering what’s happening,” I replied with a detached voice while shrugging my shoulders.
“Yes, I witnessed the ambient madness of all these animals during the first assault on the city. It’s hard to imagine that anyone could have survived for months in these conditions especially since you had two powerless children in your group.”
“Three,” I corrected.
A precision that immediately made him narrow his eyes at me.
“Yes, three… Of course three,” he consented slowly.
Children could never, no matter their species and ascendence, match the physical and magical strength of an adult. They could show talent, promises, and a strong affinity to various elements, but they were in the end powerless to truly defend themself. Something that this man only knew too well.
This almost universal truth broken by my unnatural existence couldn’t be revealed.
Not if I wanted this man’s interest in me to fade away.
I didn’t know what Walmir had told him, but it was obvious that he had suspicions about my true nature and origins.
How much did he know?
Was he aware of my strength, of my Sacred magic I was forced to reveal to Walmir across our journey?
If not, why was he so interested in me?
I couldn’t know and certainly hoped that my former travel companion had held his tongue, but I finally understood why this man deliberately took the time to see me in person.
He wanted to gauge me and understand what kind of child searched to bypass the auction to buy other children's freedom with a rare elven artifact.
I had caught his attention and maybe his interest, and that was precisely why it took me so long to decide to save Seth and Himara.
Under his attentive scrutiny, I knew that things could go very wrong, but the time for hesitation was already over.
Seth and Himara will be freed.
One way or another.