They had been marching for the past three days, stopping only to sleep and eat. Zane was utterly exhausted, although he did not dare to complain. He had seen some other prisoners who had fallen behind— they were whipped mercilessly until blood showed. One woman had fallen sick and could no longer walk. Instead of letting her sit atop a horse, the Drustanis soldiers simply killed her and left her corpse lying in the field beside the road. By nighttime, the wolves would descend from the mountainside and feast on her slain body.

So far, they had journeyed for six hours today without rest. All Zane knew was that he and the villagers were to be delivered to the slave market in the city of Renfell.

Zane didn’t know much about slavery, except that people were forced to work against their will. Tyria—his nation—had outlawed slavery, but it was still widely practiced by Drustan and Ashara.

As Zane walked, he thought of his father’s death. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to cry. His thoughts then drifted to Kieran. ‘No matter what happens to me, you’ll always have each other,’ his father had said. But his brother had abandoned him. No, he no longer had a brother. Zane bit down on his bottom lip, suppressing a sob from escaping.

At last they had stopped. Zane breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally his aching feet could rest.

”Form a single-file line!” A Drustanis soldier who guarded the supply wagon shouted.

Judging by the sun’s position in the sky, it was noon and time for lunch. Zane was starving, since there had been no breakfast this morning.

He quickly took his place in the back of the line. The Drustanis soldier up front passed a small portion of bread to each prisoner. However, when it was Zane’s turn, there was no bread left.

”We’re out of food,” the solder said. “Get going,” he said to Zane.

”So you’re just going to let my starve?” Zane asked, his tone a little sharper than he had intended.

His face was soon met with a gloved backhand, slapping hard on his cheek. Zane staggered back from the blow, tasting blood from the inside of his mouth.

“Watch your tongue, or I’ll gladly separate it from your mouth,” the soldier warned him.

Zane held onto his cheek, not daring to speak another word. Sullenly, he went back and took a seat on a nearby rock. His stomach growled as he watched the others eat, but he could only watch in silence. He was both exhausted and starving. Zane did not know how much longer he could last like this. How much further away was Renfell?

”Here, you could have some of my bread,” a girl’s voice sounded from behind.

Zane spun around. A young girl was holding out a piece of bread in her outstretched hand, signaling for him to take it.

He took the bread eagerly and devoured it, not paying attention to manners or propriety.

”Slow down or you’ll choke,” the girl said.

Heeding her words, Zane did slow down as he ate, but it wasn’t long before the bread was all gone. Zane still wasn’t full, but he could feel some of his energy returning.

He looked at the girl. Zane recognized her as the older girl who sold flowers in the market with her mother.

”Thank you,” Zane said. He finally remembered to thank her for the bread. A warm feeling filled his chest. He was touched by her act of kindness.

She smiled sadly at him. “We all have to look out for each others in these hard times.”

”Your name is Mira, right?” Zane asked.

”That’s right,” she said. “And I’ve seen you around the village before too, although we’ve never spoken before. What’s your name?”

”I’m Zane Starkov,” he answered.

“Zane,” she repeated, familiarizing the word on her tongue. “That is a good name. It means that ‘God is gracious.’”

‘No he isn’t’ Zane thought. God is cruel. And he is uncaring, turning a blind eye to all the atrocities committed by the Drustanis empire.

If there was indeed a gracious and just God, his father would still be alive. And Zane would be at home right now, alongside Kieran. His thoughts wandered back to Kieran once more. Some of his anger and bitterness had abated by now. Zane supposed he should be glad that Kieran got away. He hoped that his brother was safe, wherever he was right now.

After taking a short break to eat, their group resumed marching on the road to Renfell. When night came, they made camp in the woods. Tonight, there was a new soldier keeping watch, a man with a terrible scar on his face. Zane kept an eye on the soldiers, waiting for a chance to slip off into the night and escape. However, the opportunity never came. Sleep soon claimed him as he drifted off to the land of dreams.

In his dreams, he was home again. His father was alive, and Kieran was there too. The three of them were happily eating dinner together as a family. However, that happy moment did not last long as the scenery changed. Zane was now standing in the town square. In the horizon, he could see the Drustanis army approaching, mounted on powerful horses. They had swept through his village, slaughtering every man who held arms against them. Underneath an oak tree, he saw his father fighting against three men. Geralt Starkov was outnumbered. When he was caught off-guard, one of the soldiers drove a sword through his back. And just like that, his father had fallen. As his body hit the ground, all the Drustanis soldiers disappeared from view.

”No!” Zane screamed as he ran towards his father.

He knelt beside Geralt Starkov’s body, cradling his father’s head in his lap. Then he wept. And wept.

”Zane? Zane!” A girl’s voice broke through his dreams, startling him awake. Mira was shaking his shoulder. “Are you okay? It seemed like you were having a nightmare.”

“Yeah,” Zane answered. A brief silence passed between them. “I was dreaming of my father,” he said at last.

”Oh,” Mira gave him a sympathetic look. “You know, I lost my mother when the Drustanis attacked.”

”I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Well, try and get some rest. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.” Mira laid back down on a patch of dirt beside him. Then she turned facing away as she closed her eyes.

Zane closed his eyes as well, but it would be a long time before he fell asleep again. This time, he fell into a dreamless slumber.

They had woken early tomorrow at dawn, when the sky was still pink and purple, with the slightest hint of the sun peaking beyond the horizon. After a few more hours of marching, their group had reached the city of Renfell at last.

Zane had never been to another city before. All his life, he had lived and stayed within his village. Renfell had absolutely dwarfed his hometown. He was awestruck as his group made their way through the marketplace, which was bustling and full of people. All sorts of goods were sold here, from rich fabrics, to exotic pets, to household items, to expensive jewelry. And of course, he was one of the slaves that were to be sold here.

The Drustanis soldiers led the captives to a building on the western side of the city. A portly man with a ruddy face came out, followed by two bodyguards.

”These are all the slaves you have for me?” he asked.

”Yes,” one of the Drustanis soldiers spoke up. “Feel free to inspect them.”

The portly man walked along the row of captives, giving each person an appraising look. When he stopped by Mira, he lingered for a while. She was a comely girl. Although she was still young, it was apparent that she would grow up to become a beautiful woman.

Most young girls wished to be beautiful. However, being a beautiful slave girl only courted disaster, as many of them were raped by their masters.

”I’ll give you fifty gold pieces for this lot,” the portly man, who was a slave dealer said.

”One hundred,” the soldier demanded.

”Seventy-five,” the man offered again.

”Senenty-five then,” the soldier agreed.

The slave dealer waved for one of his guards, who brought forth a small chest full of coins. After counting out the correct amount of money, he then paid the Drustanis soldiers. Satisfied by their payment, the soldiers left.

”You may call me Master Goran,” the slave dealer raised his voice for all to hear. “Now that you are mine, you will bear my seal,” he told the captives as he ushered them inside the building behind. One of his guards brought forth a hot branding iron.

”Come,” he motioned to Zane.

Zane stepped forth.

Goran took the branding iron in one hand, and with his other hand, he grabbed Zane’s forearm. Then he pressed the branding iron onto Zane’s skin.

Zane couldn’t help but scream. The searing heat had burnt a seal onto his flesh, marking him a slave. After a few seconds, Goran released him. Zane snatched back him arm, and looked to the spot where he was branded. An “S” pattern was now etched onto his skin.

After Zane, it was the other captives’ turn. When all of the prisoners had been marked, Goran led them to a platform in the city market. A crowd was gathered around the block, their gazes inquisitive. Zane supposed that this was where the slave auction was to be held.

”Honored customers, today I present to you slaves from Tyria!” Goran said. “Come, girl,” he gestured to Mira as he held out an arm.

Mira stepped forth onto the platform next to Goran.

”We start the bidding today at five gold pieces!” Goran yelled for all to hear. “Do I hear a six?”

“Ten gold,” a man in the back offered.

”Fifteen gold,” another man with a lascivious look said.

”Twenty,” and older gentleman countered.

”Fifty gold pieces,” a woman in a glamorous red dress spoke up. She was wearing heavy makeup, which softened the wrinkles on a face that was once immensely striking. Even now— in her middle years— her beauty was still apparent. She was adorned with many jewelry pieces which complemented her outfit. Her long auburn hair was tied back, with a single rose ornament pinned to the side of her head.

”Fifty gold pieces,” Goran echoed. “Do I hear a 60?”

An usher sounded in the crowd, but no one countered the offer.

”Fifty—going once, going twice—sold! To the lady in red!”

The woman made her way through the crowd towards Goran. When she reached him, she got out a pouch full of coins and counted her payment. After paying, she motioned for Mira to follow her.

”Come with me, child. You belong to me now,” the woman said.

Mira turned back to look at Zane one last time, her eyes full of fear and uncertainty.

“Quickly now,” Goran snapped. “I have other slaves waiting to be sold.”

Mira reluctantly moved her feet and went to where the woman was waiting for her. Then, the two of them began to leave the slave market together.

A sudden pang surfaced in Zane’s chest, not wanting to be separated from Mira. ”Wait!” he yelled as he ran towards the two of them before he was caught by Goran’s guards. “Take me with you!” Zane shouted.

”Take you with me?” the woman asked as she turned around and fixed her steely gaze upon him. “Well, you are a beautiful boy, but a boy nonetheless. Tell me, do you know what a ‘courtesan’ is?”

Zane shook his head with a confused look on his face.

The woman sighed. Then a smile appeared on her lips. “I suppose you can be the first male courtesan that I train.”