Chapter 2

It can easily be the busiest quarter in the city, with the main bazaar and the biggest auction house in the entire kingdom. Shoppers are walking, flying, some in chains, on the streets occupied by innumerable establishments.

When a royal entourage comes flying towards the auction house, everyone in the quarters halt to give them a curious glance and continues whatever they were doing a moment before, except the ones who look perfectly human and in chains—they bow down on the ground. Even though they look beaten down with fresh scars on their bodies, their burning anger is visible,  through their white knuckles and their eyes, targeting not only the ones who are holding their chains but the ones surrounded by many royal guards, who are heading towards the tallest building in this quarter.

A tall black cylindrical tower is a stark contrast with the clear sky and the other buildings. The entourage lands on the rooftop.

Down the carpet stairs, this floor is for their most important customers, says the welcoming party. Elysia notices sneaking glances towards them, some openly staring at her. She should be used to these types of attention but she is not; she suddenly feels like her leather shirt and pants are too tight.

As she is together with Kannax, some might be wondering who she is. There are too many princes and princesses and she rarely goes out openly; the king’s rule states that every prince or princess must bring the guards along if he or she ever steps foot beyond the palace grounds.

The auctioneer who is standing on the stage has a set of features different from other staff Elysia has seen so far: he looks refined, at least outwardly, and perfectly at home on the stage.

The staff leads them towards the front row, bowing all along the way.

“I can perfectly walk on my own,” Elysia grits out in a whisper to Kannax whose hand is now on the small of her back between her wings, his sharp long nails almost piercing her shirt.

The auction starts. Everyone looks cheerful except the ones who are being bid and sold like mindless things. Every one of them is either beautiful or talented. Men and women, they are all barely clothed and all humans.

"100 arjents"

"120 arjents"


Elysia has already had the urge to turn around and leave Kannax and all the guards here as soon as the auction started. As if it is not enough, Kannax keeps pestering her about why she is not buying anyone.

“You have only one slave, little sister. What is that thing called? Cattie?”

She wants to answer that she is not her slave, but she decides against it.

“Her name is Clara.”

As if he didn’t hear that, he continues, “The auction is ending. I wonder what you’ve come here for in the first place.” His fingers are now in her hair, playing with them.

“Get your hand off of my hair, Kannax,” she snaps.

“Now, now, don’t be like this, dear. I’m your brother, remember?” he reprimands like an adult to a child.

It is tiresome and frustrating. Lately, Kannax has been behaving weirdly.  Has he found out about her? Is she in trouble?

Besides, she has taken no meal today yet; it is already midday. The potion she is taking is not doing any good to health, doing quite the contrary in fact. Even though she is starving and exhausted, she still has to hold herself together.

Luckily, a new royal guard comes over to Kannax. He whispers something to the prince’s ears. She thinks she has seen this male together with Kannax more than a few times; might be more than a mere guard.

"I am leaving first, Elysia. I have a business to attend to," he says, causing her a great deal of relief.

"It's fine." Too fine actually.

As soon as she can no longer see his shadow, she decides to leave. She could finally go back to her chambers and have some lunch. She is feeling almost lightheaded when she hears, “Last but not least, lords and ladies, I believe this last item will surprise you…"

It doesn’t matter. She is not interested. She is about to stand up from her seat when she notices another four shadows on the stage. They are now coming into the light, making her gasp. The audience has now become noisier than ever with heated discussions; most of them have emptied their pouches.

Three out of the four are mercenaries. Somehow they look more vicious than others who are in the hall, not because of their huge wings and horns, but because of something in their expressions. They look cruel and yet, the one who intimidates her is neither of them but the one who is heavily chained. He has manacles on his wrists, ankles, and an iron collar on his neck. One mercenary was holding the chain that is connected to the collar. He is half-naked like other people who have been auctioned, only wearing a pair of tight, long black pants.

Unlike her race and most of the audience, he has neither wings nor horns, and yet, he can’t be an ordinary human. He has perfectly symmetrical features that humans don’t have. Maybe it is in her head, but she thinks his skin has some type of glow. She supposes her hunger is messing with her mind.

Golden eyes and midnight hair—he could be a few years older than her. She hasn’t known that humans have golden eyes. Maybe he is an elf, though she’s never met one before and he doesn’t have those pointy ears. He looks neither ashamed nor scared like humans usually are when they are being auctioned like an object. Strangely, he doesn’t even look angry.

Typically, the auctioneer is probably going to say anything to get the highest price. "It is not completely human. It is half-elf half-human. But rest assured it doesn’t have any magical power that can harm my lords and ladies. We've already tested it.”

"It is also very obedient. And, you can beat it, cut it, as you please, and it won’t have a scar.”

"Prove it." That's come from the crowd.

Surely, they will not do what she thinks they are going to do, aren’t they?

The auctioneer waves his hand to the mercenaries; one of them flexes his fingers and his fingernails lengthen like claws. Elysia gasps.

With the claw on his index finger, the mercenary cuts him on his cheek. He cut his face slowly, to prolong the pain and is seemingly pleased to do this. If he is in pain, his expression is not showing any sign of it. He seems almost angry though. Maybe she is wrong.

Now his jaw has a deep long cut, bleeding. To her utter surprise and embarrassment, she has the sudden urge to taste his blood. Surely, this can’t be happening. She is not a monster who will want to feed on innocent and unwilling people, not to mention she has never even had the desire for blood. Even drinking animal blood is more a duty than a desire to her.

Desperately struggling to collect herself and control the baser instinct, she notices his intense eyes on her. He must be watching her embarrassing reactions in contempt. As if being poured down by a bucket of cold water, she realizes her claws and canines are out and wills herself to retract them. He looks away.

The strange thing is there is no longer the cut on his face now. There is not even a scar. The only thing that is still there was the blood that had already gushed out.

Her race also has the healing ability, but it is not nearly as fast as this. Elven blood probably has the faster healing ability. The audience is clapping, awed by the performance. They must be now considering to outbid one another.

"Since our honored guests are satisfied, we are now opening the floor price. 1000 Arjents," announces the auctioneer. "Who wants to pay 1000 Arjents?"




Over ten patrons are outbidding one another and the price has gone up to 5000 in no time. All the bidders are females, she notices.

She thinks she is going to bid in a slave auction for the first time in her life. She is probably going to regret this later.

“5500,” she announces.

Suddenly lots of eyes are on her, including his. What is so interesting about this? She is like everyone else, isn’t she?

After a while, most of the attention is back on the stage again. Yet, he is still looking at her. She thinks he is angry with her.

"7000 arjents," bids a female about her age. She is the youngest among the other bidders. She wonders while this female is glaring at her.

The price is going up and up and reaches more than 30,000. Sensing the auctioneer's greed, Elysia is getting nervous. Even though she is a princess, a few of the bidders could be slave collectors who would pay an unimaginable sum for certain slaves.

"40000,” she bids, wishing no one is going to outbid her.

"Is there anyone who wants to pay higher than forty thousand?" asks the auctioneer. The crowd is murmuring and a few of her competitors, including that young female are giving her bitter glances.

"Forty thousand going once!"

" Forty thousand going twice!”

"Sold to the princess Elysia!"

She is a little surprised for the auctioneer to know who she is. She finds that many in the audience are as well along with her.

“Who is princess Elysia? I’ve never heard of her,” someone remarks from a few rows behind her.

“Keep your voice down,” another one shushes the first one.

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