The walk down the mountainside into the town was not nearly as bad as the walk up. The closer we came to the rather large city of fogged lights, the more and more of the Rodrent people I saw. They, like humans, came in a variety of different colored fur, eyes, and shapes of their ears and snouts. Surprisingly, Vekrem stood out the most. Overall, he shared some of their rodent qualities, but, compared to the others, he was far more human. Worse, he stood a good two feet over most of them in height, drawing unwanted attention to himself.

Crowded streets with hawkers screaming out their wares, barred our way as we tried navigating our way through. Children played, and animals, horses, mules and the like, hauled wooden carts around. Eventually, we came upon a waterway which was lined with small fishing boats rocking against the stone they were tied to.

I turned, staring towards my new ‘master,’ “Vekrem, where does the water come from?”

He looked at me, dodging around a particularly careless child who turned to stare up at him as if he were a leper before quickly running back to his mother, clinging to her skirts. “From the mountain.” He pointed up. “It runs down to this valley, and then, further down, feeding the forest.”

I nodded. “And this place we’re going; you mentioned it was a place of rude men and women? Sounds like a tavern.”

“Exactly!” Vekrem replied. “Never was fond of getting so drunk you lose your senses. But, to each their own I suppose.”

“Speak for yourself,” I replied, nudging him with my elbow. That comradery earned me a speculative look from the locales who already eyed us curiously. Far more-so than I liked. “Sorry,” I whispered.

Vekrem returned me a coy smile as he suddenly turned a corner between two buildings. We walked along the narrow corridor until we came upon the exit when he turned back to me, trying to push me back. “Wrong way,” he said, panicked. “Go back!”

“What,” I replied, forcing past him. When I emerged, I saw what appeared to me as a large auction block. There were crates which many sat on, some even stood, and there was excitement, so much it was tangible in the air.

The auctioneer, or what I assumed him to be, from the fancy clothing and large gavel, stood above the other Rodrent, with what appeared to be a runway underneath his feet.

‘What’s this?” I turned to ask Vekrem, but he just returned my gaze as if he’d be sick.

The auctioneer’s voice rose above the crowd and I turned back to face him. “Now for today’s auction, we have a wide selection of suitable servants,” he announced. “Let’s start off with one of our best showings of the day.”

Two Rodrent’s, dressed as if they were guards, with tan leather armor, pushed forward a chained human.

A young girl with curly blond hair. The chains were connected to both hands and ankles; the chain itself looping through each and, eventually, to a brace around her neck.

I stepped forward without thinking, and Vekrem’s hand shot out, grasping my shoulder tightly as he pulled me back, his nails digging into the skin.

“Don’t,” he said. “Please… I beg you.”

I shoved him off, and turned again, but Dragon boomed into my head, almost sending me to my knees. “Enough! There is nothing you can do.”

“Fuck. That,” I replied, forcing my back straight. “You may not care, but I do.”

Vekrem grabbed me again, turning me to face him. “They'll kill her!” His words caused me to lapse, and I stopped, listening to what Vekrem said as he added, “Not just you. Not just me. They will kill her… and her family. Her friends. Anyone who is connected to her in any way. That’s how they stop a rebellion from starting. They stomp out all hope.”

Vekrem’s words were of a desperate man, and, heeding his warning, I turned to stare back at the barbary. I knew I shouldn’t, that there truly was nothing I could do, but I couldn’t stop myself. Dragon had mentioned that I’d caused this, and I felt I owed it to her to, at the very least, witness. In the end, another little girl, a Rodrent, won the auction, her father chastising her for betting with his coin. However, her spirit was undaunted as she exclaimed excitedly that she’ll have someone to play with her now.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

It was not the worst of outcomes, and I hated myself for thinking that way.

“Come on,” he insisted. “We’re close. Come.”

Hesitantly, my pride bruised, my sense of justice tainted, I followed Vekrem, not daring to look back. I set the matter aside in the back of my mind to deal with later.

I needed more time to think.

***

I did my best to avoid looking at anyone as we made our way towards our destination. My mood had taken a sour turn, and I felt the very same as I did when the girl was hurt from my own world.

The inability to save anyone was grating. How could I be a hero if—

“We’re here,” Vekrem announced suddenly, shouldering open a door and beckoning me inside.

As I entered, the smell of old beer and smoke smacked me upside the senses. The tavern was a dingy place—hardly the place I’d expect Vekrem, of all people, to have any friends. Still, the place seemed to serve both Rodrent and Humans alike, although the humans seemed to be left with the shody and old tables and chairs. And the groups did not intermingle, although both were dressed similarly with simple mute clothing. The Humans argued loudly over a card game, and the group of Rodrent’s looked as if they would take issue.

Turning towards Vekrem, I said, “Never took you for this type of rough.”

“And you’d be right to assume that,” he replied, stepping towards a long wooden bar. He sat at a stool and I reached to sit beside him when he pushed my hand back as quietly and quickly as he could. Looking at him, he gave me what I assumed was a look of warning. Sighed, I stood motionless behind him, trying, and failing, not to show my annoyance on my face.

An elderly human man approached, at least seventy, his face so wrinkled and gray that he looked chiseled from stone. He set his hands to the table as he asked, “What can I get you master…”

“Vekrem… and this is my servant, Ike.” The man looked up at me, and I nodded, not trusting myself not to say something stupid. “We are here to see the master of the tavern.”

“Fraid they are not here, sir.”

Vekrem cocked a smile. “Of course they aren’t.” He beaconed around the room. “A noble, no matter how low in stature, would never be seen with this rabble. No…” he tapped lightly on the counter, almost in a sort of tune. “But, I think I’ll have a Basilisk’s Spit. On the house.”

The man’s eyes went wide, but he wordlessly moved to a door behind the bar that looked like it led to the back. He opened it, and waved us forward.

Vekrem slid the chair back casually, walking in with a brisk step, and I followed close behind. In the back were barrels upon barrels of, what I assumed, was alcohol, from the fragrance they gave off. Crates filled with bread and cheese littered the floor, and there was even a cooking stone, but it looked worn down. Unused.

The old man pulled out a key from his pocket, placing it into a locked door that looked like it led down to the cellar. He cranked it once left and then twice right, and the latch gave way, a loud grinding sounding out, followed by a clink. He pushed, and the hinges groaned as they opened. This time, the man didn’t follow us, and as we stepped through, he closed the door behind us. I heard the lock re-engage, and my heart dropped into my stomach.

Looking down the dark and dusty stairway, I whispered to Vekrem, “I hope you didn’t just lead us into a trap.”

“Of course not,” he replied, wiping dust from his rust colored coat. “She just has a flair for the dramatic.”

I stopped on the stairwell. “She?” I nudged him. “You never said anything about a she. So, who is this mysterious woman to you?”

“Would you two come downstairs already,” I heard a feminine voice call out from below. “I’m rather interested in what young Vekrem has to say in this manner.”

Vekrem sighed, giving me an elbow in the ribs, then, adding dejectedly, “Come on… We best not keep her waiting.” His face went beet red as he walked down.

I smiled, trodding down the stairs behind him, each step kicking dust into the air that threatened to choke me. I rubbed my eyes, and shook the stuff from my hair.

When we reached the cellar, the entire environment was different than expected. No, I expected a rundown cellar filled with cobwebs, dust and old, discarded items. But, instead, I was met with luscious, decadence. Glass portraits that looked to have been spun from silver. Various ornamental rugs that showed not a spec of dirt. And, to top it off, an entire wall of bottles set in individual cubbies.

The short Rodrent woman gazed at me from her seat on a long black coach that looked finely stitched. Her eyes were surprisingly human, blue as the ocean, but the edges dark as the depths. Her rodent-like face was somehow feminine, her ears pierced and adorned with silver. Even her tail, slender and long, was adorned with plated silver pieces. Knowing nothing of their culture, I could tell this woman came from wealth. Or, as Vekrem had mentioned, royalty.

Her eyes ran up and down my body as if she inspected a horse. “Like what you see?” she asked, and I realized I was still staring.

“Fuck,” I said, turning away. “Sorry.” There was a silence that followed, and I turned, coughing into my hand. This act made her laugh, leaning back into her chair, and wordlessly motioning us to be seated as well. I breathed a short sigh of relief.

Vekrem shook his head, and then gave her a condemning look, “It’s alright. We’re… friends.”

She scoffed at that, but said nothing.

I took a seat on a blackened wooden chair that was lacquered so heavily that it appeared to glow red, reflecting the fire in the hearth that raged across from me.

Vekrem knelt on a padded pillow that was on the ground, folding his arms. “So… Vhol, how are you?”