[ ] = Doruuk's Thoughts
At the Checkout
The tension was thick as I approached the counter. The merchant greeted me with a smug smile that never reached his greedy eyes.
"Sir, the total comes to six hundred gold coins," he announced with a triumphant tone.
[That much? This crook's trying to bleed me dry.]
"That many, huh?" I replied, keeping my tone neutral, though I didn't bother hiding the irritation.
He shrugged, unfazed. "Well, sir, you're buying an elf. And elves don't come cheap." His gaze drifted toward the silent figure behind him. "Especially one like her. Beauty drives the price up. And she's a woman — that alone doubles her value."
[He talks about her like she's a piece of merchandise. Disgusting.]
[Still... I have the coin.]
[Almost all of our savings are gone now. She better be worth it.]
With a sharp motion, I pulled out the coin pouch. The weight was a cold reminder of what I was giving up. "Here," I muttered, dropping it onto the counter with a heavy thud.
The merchant seized it, his fingers dancing expertly through the coins. Satisfied, he gave a mock bow and prepared a document stamped with the guild seal.
"Sir, keep this safe," he said with feigned courtesy. "It's proof of the transaction, includes all relevant information. Now we proceed to the binding."
"Fine," I replied coolly.
I folded the document and slipped it into the inner pocket of my jacket. Somehow, it felt heavier than the gold I'd just surrendered.
He led me down a dim hallway into a small chamber, thick with the scent of incense that failed to hide the stench of sweat and fear. The ritual went exactly as described. His assistant pricked my finger, then hers. She didn't even flinch.
Our blood was mixed in a silver bowl while the merchant chanted in some ancient tongue. I felt no magic — I had no affinity — but the air seemed to thicken.
When it was done, a dark sigil appeared on her palm, pulsing faintly before settling.
"It's placed on the palm," the merchant explained matter-of-factly. "So they never forget what they are. Keeps them from getting ideas."
[They brand people like cattle. This world is filth.]
"All done, sir," he announced. "You may take her now."
I turned to him, my eyes sharp. "At least tell me her name. Something."
He shrugged. "We don't know. She hasn't said a word since the day she arrived."
[Useless.]
"Fine. I'm leaving."
"Do come again," he said with sickening sweetness.
I ignored him and stepped out into the open. The fresh air hit me like a wave. Behind me, the elf girl followed, quiet as a shadow.
I scanned the busy square for Zaira. Nothing. My eyes darted from merchant stalls to noble entourages to wandering citizens.
[Where the hell is she?]
I searched for minutes, circling the fountain twice. Still nothing. Frustrated, I turned back.
She was staring at me.
There was something in her golden eyes — maybe fear, maybe calculation, maybe both.
[Now what?]
I approached slowly.
"Are you hungry?" I asked, trying to read her face.
No response. Her expression was empty, her face hidden behind a veil of black hair.
"I asked if you're hungry," I repeated. "If you don't want to speak, nod."
Still nothing.
[Like talking to a wall.]
"I'm hungry," I said flatly. "Come with me. You can eat too."
I walked off. She followed, silent as before.
The tavern I chose was simple, but clean. I picked a quiet table and ordered for both of us. Stew for me. Roasted meat and vegetables for her. She looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks.
When the food arrived, the scent was rich and warm.
"Eat," I told her, gesturing to the plate. "You look like you need it."
I began eating. She didn't move. Didn't even glance at her food.
Other customers watched us. Some curious. Some judgmental. I ignored them all.
Every now and then, I looked up. No change. No words. No bite. Just breath.
Her hair still hid her face. The silence was maddening.
I finished eating, tossed a few coins on the table, and stood up.
"I told you to eat. You didn't. That's your problem now," I said coldly. "We're getting you clothes. Then you're getting cleaned up. Understood?"
Predictably, nothing.
I took her to a clothing shop and picked simple but decent garments — a plain dress, underclothes, and a cloak. No luxury. Just not rags.
I handed her the bundle and walked toward my dorm. I could hear her soft steps behind me.
[Good thing Hector's not home. He'd ask too many questions.]
Once inside, I pointed to the bathroom door.
"Go wash."
She didn't move. Still as stone.
"I said, wash!" I barked.
Still nothing. My patience snapped.
I grabbed her wrist, firm but not hurting her.
"Listen, girl," I hissed. "I'm treating you decently. I paid a fortune. You will listen to me. Understood? Now get in there and wash!"
I let go of her with a jerk. She stared at me. Then, finally, she moved.
Water began to run behind the door.
[Finally.]
I dropped into the chair by the window, rubbing my temples.
[What now?]
[Once she's clean, I'll take her to the base. Let them help decide.]
Time crawled. I lost myself in thought — complications, regrets, possibilities.
Then the door opened.
She stepped out.
And I froze.
Her hair, now clean, was pitch black — so deep it shimmered blue in the light. Her face was delicate, ethereal. But it was her eyes that caught me: gold, like trapped sunlight.
[...The merchant wasn't lying.]
"Look at yourself," I said, pointing to the mirror. "Tell me you don't look better now."
As expected, silence.
My voice dropped, colder. "You will answer when spoken to. Do what I say. That's your duty. In return, I treat you like a person, not an insect. Understood?"
And then — a reaction.
A tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
[Progress. Finally.]
"Good," I said, surprised at the relief I felt. "What's your name?"
And then — like wind through leaves — her voice.
Soft. Melodic. Barely there.
"My name is Nymeria," she said. "Nymeria Faelwen."
Chapter-End.