Only four hours had past.

Volker trembled in his chains; an uncontrollable shaking that rattled his teeth and the shackles that had been placed around his wrists. Bruises blossomed on his chest and back where he had been struck by fist and stick alike. It hurt to breathe with every inhale a shoving pressure against his ribs. Volker searched for any unexpected movement around him as he huddled in the corner as far away from his “peers” as possible. It wasn’t like the bullies who’d jumped him behind the school house and threatened to throw him in the river. Or even the gang members who roughed him up for losing their cigarettes and booze on a supply run.

These people wanted to hurt him.

Running hadn’t been his best idea.

The second he had been released from the tattoo chair, Volker made a dash for it. Fueled by panic, adrenaline, and agonizing pain from the harsh bleeding tattoo around his neck, he moved faster than he ever had before. Volker should have taken it as a warning that neither man had tried to stop him.

Two steps out the door put him in the arms of two brutes who felt no need to hold back as they beat him down, ending the assault by bashing his head in against a wall. Volker woke to a room afterwards that wasn’t much better, filled with people in the same predicament as himself. They looked worn and resigned to their fates with heavy limbs and bags under their eyes. 

Volker couldn’t help but stare at the varied skin and hair colors before him in the dark room. After all that blond hair and blue eyes, the variety was almost enough to distract Volker from his own predicament. But that too came with consequences. Volker figured out pretty quick that staring too long at someone with blue skin earned a fist to his gut and some screamed threats. Volker retreated to a corner after that and sat there hyperventilating.

Ten other people shared the room with him, all with the same black band around their necks. As much as he didn’t want to know what it meant, the logical part of his brain insisted he figure it out quick. Volker slunk into the wall, unsure how they could possibly mistake him for one of these straggly and fierce individuals. Volker bit the tip of his thumb. Five were like the rest of the people in the city, blond and blue eyed. One in the corner looked like the captain from the boat with red skin and black hair. Volker couldn’t see his eyes as his head was bowed, but he made a bet they were green. The opposite corner held the guy with blue—Volker stressed to himself sky blue—skin that had popped him one to the gut. There was a woman in the corner who might have had green skin, but she was in the shadows and it was hard to tell.

The last two, Volker couldn’t look at them again, but he did see them long enough to know they were black.

Not the brown, skin-tone shade that usually popped into Volker’s mind when he heard the term describing another person, but black-black. Pitch, sucked all the light out of the room, black. Volker could barely see where one limb started and the other stopped. Their clothes were only a hair lighter shade than their skin. They looked like breathing shadows. The only distinct feature that stood out from all that darkness was their eyes, milky white and void of pupils. Volker kept them out of his sight as much as possible. Looking at them made his chest itch, and his breath speed up the same way large bodies of waters messed with him. Volker felt like his soul was being ripped out of his body and drawn into their black void just for daring to sneak a peek.

Volker couldn’t decide if his embarrassment and fear was due to repulsion or attraction. They were an such an odd blend of horrifying and beautiful that it made Volker’s head and heart pang in confusion. He wanted to hug their feet and kiss their ankles in the same breath that he wanted to run screaming.

Volker studied the ground, closing his eyes and counted to ten. He couldn’t think about them. He needed to get out.

Oh, who am I kidding? He thought to himself.

Volker rubbed the base of his neck, the surface of his skin tingling from the sensation. He could still feel each and every prick of the needle as it made it’s way around his neck. The affected area was still raised, raw, and red. Sensitive, unbearable, and carrying a meaning that Volker didn’t know. It wasn’t some gang sign, or a drunken mistake you could explain away. The mark meant something to the people around him, and it was something awful. Volker needed, yet was still terrified, to find out what it was. Nothing good. You never marked a rat pulled from the water with something good.

A shout filled the room and Volker jumped up in place. His wrists were yanked in front as the chains that trailed to the middle of the room were drawn in tight. Everyone in the room groaned and rolled their eyes as they struggled to their feet to form a line in the center. Volker was shoved to the back by a muscle-bound guard with scars and piercings over his eyebrows. They crisscrossed in a grotesque pattern that not even the worst punk rocker would wear with pride. The line of them were ushered out of the room, Volker trailing behind, trying to stay calm.  

---

The port market bustled with customers searching the booths and shops, each one sporting the best of Aten goods. Everything from food, to trade goods, to touristy knick-knacks covered tables alike and were grouped together under the burning sun. The white and metallic walls reflected the rays down, heating everyone’s skin with a delightful warmth. Despite that, Emerald still shivered as he passed by a stand with fishing lures, arranged in both alphabetical and size order in four separate perfectly aligned rows.

The obsessive organization from how items were arranged to the registrations after purchases made his skin crawl. In Set, items were organized by type and good, but it didn’t cause a riot if something was misplaced. In Aten, an out of order item meant a hefty fine, and the possible loss of your business license if it was a repeat offense. If not for the prices, and the fact guest merchants were excused from registration, Emerald would have avoided Aten markets all together. Besides, when doing business with a port town, it was good to show you were a patron as well as a seller. Far easier to sell the locals crab when they remembered you bought that lovely vase from them the week before.

Vin had their inventory catalog tucked neatly under his arm as he walked ahead of Emerald. He had the restocking lists prepared in advance in case they found themselves in a port earlier than expected and had put it to full use. Emerald wouldn’t mind the restocking, but Vin took days to get the shopping done.

For someone who despised the Children of Aten with a passion, he sure enjoyed shopping in their homeland. Emerald’s first mate fit right in with the Aten way of organization. Vin would never admit such a thing even if someone was threatening to burn his precious clipboard, but there was no mistaking the smile on his face as he perused a fruit stand full of local produce arranged by leaf size and fruit color.

Emerald should have put his foot down and cut the shopping trip short, but Dio and Jen needed the shore leave. The months at sea were taking their toll on the two teenagers. They clamored for shore leave far more often than they used to, and the fact he hadn’t seen them all day meant they were living it up somewhere. 

They lacked Vin’s obsessive dedication and Emerald’s love of the water. If he hadn’t given them the break, it would only be a month or two before they gave notice, tired of the isolation or labor. He could see them starting a new trade or doing mariner work on the docks instead of ship-life. Emerald hoped they at least had the sense to wait until he could hunt down more help, though. Vin was reliable, but they couldn’t run the ship with just the two of them.

Jewelry glittered in the corner of his view.

Emerald stopped following Vin, unable to pass the shining trinkets by. The promising table had its goods laid out in individual velvet cases under a plush red overhang, separated by gem and style. A stick of incense burned just above. The blue smoke and smell of fruit flowers adding a lovely atmosphere to the gorgeous gems. Emerald approached the stand, comforted by the stones. The owner watched every movement he made like a hawk, eyes clouded grey with age. Emerald let him have his paranoia, and ran his fingers along the edge of the cherry wood case. Rings, necklaces, and earrings of all shapes, sizes and colors sparkled in the light.

Emerald had an admitted weakness for jewelry. He fingered the plain stud hanging from his ear, eyes lingering on a few gemstone drops. Aten tended to have a better selection than Set, thanks to the region’s mountains and cave formations to its North. The only benefit to Set’s limited selection was the lack of purchasing forms to sign. Not even guests could get a pass on expensive item registrations.

Emerald lifted a silver chain, decorated with an oval-cut sapphire pendant about the size of his thumb. He fingered the gem, rubbing the flat surface and admiring the familiar blue color. Sapphires had always been his favorite: the color of water on a clear day. Emerald turned the necklace over in his hand. The gem was perfect, and he couldn’t spot a flaw on it. 

The cut. The clarity. A perfect sapphire.

Emerald glanced at the tag and calculated what he’d have to give up to afford it. Digging into savings for a necklace would surely earn him an ear-ringing from Vin, and Emerald wasn’t sure he was up for that no matter how good the stone looked.

He stalled in the middle of putting it back in its velvet home, warming the silver backing with his palm. The gem winked at him, sun reflecting off the surface, and Emerald knew he had lost. The color was too similar and Emerald still missed that kid. He waved at the cart owner to bring the paperwork and hoped the man had only one or two pages to fill out. He exchanged the money at the last signature and pocketed his newest purchase.

A horn sounded from his left as he left the stand, and the gathering crowd swept Emerald into the center of it. Voices mingled together in gossip as the blond heads bobbed and weaved to see something in the distance. Emerald, a good head taller than most of the people around, had the perfect view of the line of prisoners headed toward the dock that was causing such a ruckus. Aten kept its criminals offshore, so the sight wasn’t too odd. He’d seen two or three prisoner chains in his visits from both land and his boat, including one ship that set sail loaded with its depressed passengers. The sight was fairly normal—

Save for the little one dragged along at the end of the line: The boy he pulled from the water.

Emerald pushed through the crowd, struggling toward the quickly moving prison line. He shoved a heavy-set woman to the side, forcing his way to the front of the crowd, until he was walking alongside the procession three or four people away. The boy was caked in dirt, his clothes—still the ones Emerald had given him—were ripped in various places, revealing cuts underneath. A bruise was on his right cheek, swollen and purple. The boy shivered sporadically, and flinched at every sound. The most disgusting change was the mark around his neck:

The solid black band of a condemned criminal.

There must have been a mistake. It wasn’t possible that kid earned a life sentence worthy of a hardened criminal in under a few days. The boy was too young and had been perfectly well behaved on the boat. Even if he had somehow managed to kill a slew of people in that time, an Aten murder trial took two months to finalize even when they found the guilty party with blood on their hands professing guilt.

Emerald snarled, pushing his way past gawkers pointing at the men from other countries. He cursed all the same; the damage had been done. Once marked, it never went away. At the very least, Emerald couldn’t let that boy go to the prison island. 

He refused to allow it.

Emerald searched the prison line for the escorting guards as the group waited on the dock to be loaded onto the prison boat. The head guard would be Emerald’s ticket to saving the kid. He’d only get one chance before the prisoners were tagged and marched up the gang plank.

Vin trotted after his captain, avoiding contact with the locals ogling the prison line. He held his bag of groceries close, and looked around confused. Emerald wasn’t quite sure when he had caught up, but the man was there all the same. He gave the first mate a minute before he realized what Emerald was up to.

Realization dawned on Vin’s face when he spotted the boy at the end of the line. He grabbed Emerald’s shoulder and hissed in his ear, “Oh, no you don’t!”

Emerald brushed Vin’s hand off his shoulder and pushed forward. The head of the guards stood at the front of the line with his clipboard in tow and Emerald would not be deterred. If the boy made it to the prison island, Emerald would never raise enough funds to justify a trip out there, let alone pay for the boy on top of everything. He tapped the guard checking off names on the shoulder, and asked in his best Words of Aten, “Are there sales today, sir?”

“If you got the coin, friend.” The officer nodded at the lot with a cheery smile. “They’re all new arrivals, though, so keep that in mind.”

Emerald smiled, recognizing the man as a regular customer from one of his favorite clients, a restaurant downtown. The store’s owner often bragged that he was the only place in town who did business with Emerald, and everyone knew that the seas nearest Set produced the best crab.

Perfect, Emerald thought to himself. He’ll think I’m looking for ship hands.

Sure enough, the guard grinned and set his clipboard under his arm as he proceeded with business. “As you can see, everyone from that third one down the line be life sentences.”

“The small one on the end,” Emerald pointed at the Son of Aten. The bruises on the boy’s chest weeped tiny streams of blood through the ruined shirt. Emerald stayed the scowl and anger from showing on his face. A good natured smile was necessary to ensure the officer’s cooperation. Emerald had to get that boy out of here. “How much for that one?”

“Eh, let’s see now. Kid, healthy—and look, part of his punishment was the stripping of his name, so you’d even get to choose a new one. That’s quite the lucky break for you, friend.” The guard held up two fingers, the armor on his uniform clinking together. “How about twenty?”

“That seems a bit much for someone so young. Don’t you think a discount would be in order for the training I’d have to do?” Emerald rubbed under his chin. Honestly, he’d put down the twenty in a heartbeat, but failing to negotiate would be too suspicious. They’d start to wonder why Emerald wanted that one so badly—Not to mention he had his merchant pride to uphold. “I’m thinking ten.”

“Too cheap. Eighteen.”

“Twelve.”

“I don’t have to sell him, ya’ know.” The guard pressed, dropping the clipboard under his arm. “I’m sure someone else might take that price if I decided to announce it for a bid.”

Emerald bit his lip, and lowered his gaze to the ground. After a few faked moments of deliberation, he met the guard’s eyes. “You’re right, and I’m grateful, but even still, seventeen is my final offer.”

“You’re definitely a merchant, aren’t you?” The guard asked, twisting his face into a knowing grin. The two stared each other down, green to blue, before the guard held out his hand for a shake. The other man chuckled, grabbing Emerald’s palm with a solid grip. “Seventeen thousand it is. You got the money on ya’, or do I need to shuffle him to the side for a few days?”

“I’ll have to get the money from my ship, but it’s close enough it shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.”

“Great, then I can have the paperwork ready and slave tattoos all done for you by the time you get back.” The officer snapped his hand at a guard a few feet away and gestured at the tiny thing at the end of the line. He watched the boy squawk and squirm as he was dragged off. Emerald held his tongue seeing the boy’s terrified face. “Actually, you’ll probably be back before I’m done, so take your time.”

Emerald held back the flinch. “That’s not really necessary, I can have that done myself.”

“I insist. This must be your first slave, or you’d know it was part of making the process legal and all.” The officer raised an eyebrow.

“You caught me. Yes, this is my first time buying a slave.” Emerald covered his mouth, and did his best to look embarrassed. “I apologize.”

“It’s alright,” the guard said, slapping Emerald on the back. “Everyone makes mistakes the first time around—unless you’re a Child of Aten!”

Emerald fake-laughed along with the guard. “Good one.”

The guard wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, his belly aching from his own joke. “But really, don’t worry. It’ll only take an hour or two and the little slave will be good to go.”

“Of course,” Emerald nodded and sucked in a breath. So much for trying to pass the boy off as paroled.

“Your name then for the mark?”

The captain watched the boy be pushed by someone next to him and stated his name, “Emerald.”

“Got it! See you in a couple hours.”

Emerald nodded and stalked away from the prison line.

With the boy secure, and far from the prying eyes of the guards, Emerald was free to express his distaste with the situation. “Furious” was too weak of a description for how his chest burned in anger. Vin followed close behind as he strode to his destination. His poor first mate was close to ripping out his own hair, his hands buried in the short locks. Strands were already tangled in his fingers, a few broken already. He paced back and forth muttering about people with blue doe-eyes, slave purchases, and insane captains.

Vin hissed as much as they strode down the Police Building hallways to Chief Azure’s office, ignoring anyone who tried to stop him. 

“You’re insane! I can’t believe you’ve decided to do this with your time while you wait for those stupid tattoos.” Vin sucked in a breath. “For a slave you shouldn’t have bought!”

Emerald did not share his concern, and ignored Vin completely as he burst open the door to Azure’s office.

“What happened to our deal, Azure?” Emerald slammed his hand on the desk. The officer’s cup of water rattled and knocked over. The water spilled onto the ground, splashing across the counter and floor, but neither moved. “A prison yard doesn’t sound like a foster home!”

Azure narrowed his eyes, lifting himself from the seat. He walked around Emerald and grabbed Vin. Azure shoved him out of the room, ignoring his protests as easily as Emerald had. Azure slammed the door shut and spun around on his heel. “You don’t know what you brought me, do you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t have a clue what sort of mess you’ve brought me.” Azure shouted, sweeping his hand out in indignation. “You brought me an unregistered Son of Aten.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Emerald asked. Azure’s eyes burned in anger as he paced restlessly through the office. Emerald knew that orphaned kids were a handful to deal with, but his behavior was odd. “Maybe he was born overseas—”

“He would have been registered.” Azure dropped into his seat. “I don’t know how they control the population over in Set, but here registration is mandatory no matter where or what land you find your residence. The minimum sentence for having a child without registering it is two cycles. The fact that boy has escaped our notice for around fifty or so means we failed to arrest a guilty party.”

“So? Why should he be punished for his parents—”

“The scandal alone would cause riots. We’ve never had such a breech of protocol since the new King took control over three thousand cycles ago!” Azure pushed out of his seat. Emerald and he stood the same height, so the attempted intimidation was lost. “No amount of damage control would have been enough to keep things in hand if the general populace found out. Thankfully, there was a solution.”

“Sending him to prison!” Emerald exclaimed, confusion seeping into his brain. What sort of madness went on in Aten’s government that an abandoned child would cause riots? How was framing him for a live-sentence worthy crime the better option? Emerald slowly shook his head, eyes close together in confusion. “How is that a solution?”

“People with life sentences have their ID numbers removed since they’ll no longer be needing them,” Azure said. He crossed his hands on his desk, catching Emerald’s gaze with his dark blue eyes. “And there may be a new little scar burnt above his Neck Ring where an ID should have been if he’d been registered properly.”

“You—”

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Azure said. He tapped the top of his desk. “You bought the boy, didn’t you? So it all worked out.”

“People will know you sentenced an innocent child to a life sentence!”

“I’ll deny it, this entire office will deny it, and you have no proof. If you think the population will believe a Son of Set, no matter how valuable a merchant, over the Chief Officer of the Security Council, you’re sorely mistaken.” Azure pointed to the door, taking his seat behind the desk. He placed his cup back upright on its coaster. “You have no jurisdiction here, so if you’d like your business license renewed this fall, I suggest you appreciate the good fortune that you at least bought the boy before he was shipped off. 

“Now have a good day,” Chief Azure said, reaching over to pick up his glass. “And get out of my office.”

“Fine.” Emerald stormed from the room, slamming the door shut as he left. Vin followed as he made his way back down the narrow corridor. Emerald hissed, “That bastard.”

“What happened? Captain!” Vin said looking back and forth between Emerald’s hunched shoulders and the back office. “What is going on?”

“I’m keeping the boy.”

“That doesn’t explain anything and I still can’t believe you did that,” Vin said as they walked back to the ship. “Buying a slave? What are you thinking? Completely wiping out your life savings aside, why would you do this? You don’t even like slaves and he’s an untrained criminal to boot!”

“He’s not a criminal,” Emerald said. “So better a slave on my ship than a slave to that prison island.”

“How do you know? He could have been faking.”

“I know.”

“Captain!”

“Vin,” Emerald turned, his glare stopping Vin in his tracks. Emerald spoke slowly, enunciating each word with a punctuated order, “Do not argue this.”

Relief flowed into Emerald when Vin sucked in his breath, ending the discussion.

Emerald retrieved the money from his boat and they were back at the prison dock with the requested amount of coin with time to spare. Ten minutes after Emerald and Vin arrived, they returned the boy. Emerald caught his eyes and smiled as comfortingly as he could. The boy looked confused, but even Emerald could see the relief in the boy’s shoulders at the familiar face. 

A new ring was engraved above the thick criminal bar: The mark of a slave. In the space between the slave and criminal bands, was Emerald’s name engraved in a delicate script that repeated the entire circumference of the boy’s neck.

Emerald had never envisioned his own name would appear as such, marking another person. His parents had owned slaves, but Emerald was too used to doing things with his own two hands to consider buying another set. Slaves were so binding. It was a commitment Emerald never felt ready for. He had never even been responsible for so much as a pet, let alone another person! Children would grow and leave home, but Emerald would be responsible for the Son of Aten for the rest of his life. 

The accountability of it all left Emerald in sort of a haze.

“So,” Vin said, crossing his arms. He lifted the transfer paperwork, taking it from the guard, and glanced at the blank line waiting for Emerald to finalize the process. “What are you going to call him then?”

Emerald fingered the necklace resting gently in his pocket, the cool surface a calming relief. He gripped the gem in his palm, and felt it’s perfect form. The kid stared at him with wide eyes, their color clear through the dirt and grime on his face.

“Sapphire,” Emerald said, licking his lips. He took the offered pen and wrote the name down on the line, finalizing the purchase. “The boy’s name is Sapphire.”