Chapter 1.1. Erden.
Town of Erden was, a labyrinth of marble and stone wrought from dreams themselves. The sun’s golden rays danced across grand buildings, casting long shadows.
Intricate mosaics depict scenes of mythic proportions; gods and heroes locked in eternal battle amidst vibrant tapestries of color. Fountains gurgle melodiously, their crystal waters shimmering like liquid silver beneath watchful eye above.
Yet amidst this opulence lurks an undercurrent of unease – a sense that not all is as it seems, behind façades so carefully crafted over ages past. Shops line bustling streets where merchants hawk wares with practiced flair.
But deep within Erden’s shadowed heart was a slave market, a sprawling pit of misery and despair. Iron cages line narrow alleys, their occupants’ hollow eyes reflecting hopelessness untold.
A cacophony of cries and moans fills air thick with sweat and fear. Traders brag about wares with practiced flair; men, women, children – all reduced to chattel in this cruel domain.
Whips crack like thunder amidst desperate pleas, for mercy is unheard by cold eyes above. Chains clink ominously as slaves are paraded forth – like livestock awaiting slaughter’s embrace.
In one corner stands a stage where auctions unfold with ruthless efficiency – human lives reduced to mere commodities exchanged between callous hands.
The stench of death lingers heavy amidst this wretched place, where life mean nothing, just coin. A grim reminder that even souls can be bought and sold like any other trinket beneath sun’s unseeing gaze.
Amid the dimly lit slave market buzzed with activity as a dark figure surveyed the merchandise before her. Figure was wearing dark clothe, and her face was hidden behind a mask, which resembled human skull. Creature was shirt, and beneath the cloak, careful look would see woman’s curves beneath her clothe. Her eyes fell upon a figure chained to a post – a boy with an air of noble tragedy about him. She approached silently, studying him with an appraising gaze.
As she drew closer, he lifted his head, revealing striking features that hinted at his celestial origins. He was one of the Tuatha Dé Danann.
Tuatha Dé Danann, an ancient race of fairy folk said to dwell amidst realms hidden from mortal ken. Whispers spoke their power rivaled gods themselves or they were gods themselves, yet they remained shrouded in mystery beyond reach.
Their eyes met for a moment before he looked away, pride and despair warring in boys expression.
– Well, – figure said, breaking the tense silence: – You certainly don’t look like much of a warrior.
The boy tensed at her words, but remained silent. His jaw clenched as if holding back a retort. Lilith smirked slightly, seeing right through his facade.
– What do you want from me? – the boy asked, voice rough but steady.
– To gloat over your misfortune? To buy a broken toy and parade you like some prize? – female laughed softly, and unkindly. There was something about this defiant slave that intrigued her – perhaps it was the glimpse of greatness hidden beneath his current state.
– But no. On the contrary, – she replied to her own words, eyes glinting with amusement: -I think you and I could make quite the team.
She left him to ponder those words, but as she turned away, she already was envisioning how she would put this fallen warrior’s skills to use. The Tuatha boy watched her go, a storm of emotions swirling within him. What did it mean – this unexpected visit?
For a while Tuatha boy stood motionless, his mind reeling from the encounter with mysterious woman. He couldn’t shake the image of her eyes – those chilling orbs that seemed to peer into his very soul.
As she moved away, he found himself following her movements with a strange mix of fear and fascination. There was something about this woman – this master who will claim him – that terrified him. It was her eyes. Eyes of a mad man, eyes of a natural born killer. She killed before, and she will definitely kill again. Without remorse, without hesitation.
The boy shook his head, trying to clear away the unsettling thoughts. He needed to focus on surviving this ordeal – whatever it may entail. He had his mission to complete.
Woman went to talk to slave dealer.
– Are you sure, that the story, which you told me is true? Did that boy actually killed three guards?
– Yes, ma’am, no mistake there, – nodded slave trader. He was a short man, with missing hair and fat belly. Man was sweating in front of a her, and woman’s nose was catching unpleasant scent.
– He does not look like much.
– He is Tuatha Dé Danann. His race has god’s blood running through their veins. Do not underestimate his value.
– Perhaps. How much?
– Three hundred gold coins.
Woman’s eyes borrowed into a man. She said nothing, but he sweated even more.
– Two hundred fifty, – said the man and wiped off the sweat. Woman nodded and counted the coins. She used biggest coins, each worth ten gold ones of a smallest kind.
Slave trader accepted the coins and went to the boy.
– Good news boy, – he grinned: – You are leaving this place.
Slave trader took out a key and took off boys chains. Woman approached and placed a collar around his neck. Boy recognized it. It was a slave collar. A cursed artifact of obedience.
– What’s your name boy? – she asked.
– Cian.
– You my call me Lilith. Or captain. Follow me.
They went towards a stage were one of the slave traders was presenting his merchandise. Auction was unfolding there, with some of the best product that slave market offered.
Lilith approached a stage, and Cian obediently followed her.
As the auctioneer’s voice droned on, Lilith watched with detachment as one slave after another was sold into servitude. A young elf girl wept silently, her tears leaving trails through grime-streaked face. Barely worth ten silver pieces, the auctioneer scoffed, gesturing dismissively towards trembling form.
– Who’ll start bidding?
Next came a burly orc warrior; chains rattling ominously as he stood tall amidst gathered throng. Yet even his fierce countenance could not mask fear lurking deep within eyes.
– Fifty gold! – someone called out, voice dripping with cruel amusement: – For beast that still thinks itself free!
People around them laughed and orc’s face showed emotion’s – anger, despair, fallen pride.
Then auctioneer stepped forward, his voice ringing clear amidst tense anticipation hanging heavy in the air.
– And now, – he intoned, gesturing towards hulking form standing proud despite chains binding limbs: – Behold Kragor the Minotaur! A beast of battle unlike any other.
Lilith’s gaze fell upon minotaur. Tuatha boy though that he saw interest in his master.
– Five hundred gold pieces! – she called out, voice carrying weight of authority beyond mere mortal men.
Slave trader looked around, but no one offered more.
– Sold, – he declared. Minotaur glared upon his new master. Unlike others in his eyes was only rage. Minotaur was wrapped in chains, and could barely walk. Three servants pulled his chains to force him off the stage. Another slave trader approached Lilith, while auction continued.
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