Coming back to consciousness was slow and painful; my head pounded with my pulse, the side of my skull throbbing from where the alchemist had attacked me. I closed my eyes tighter, afraid somebody was waiting for me to stir- to be awake so they could savor what they did to me. When I wasn’t assailed by hard and brutal hands, I allowed myself to expand my senses from my own aching body.

My face was pressed against cold stone, the rough surface scratching at my skin when I shifted. Twisting my wrists, I found there was no give to the metal cuffs that bound my arms together behind my back, my shoulders strained by the awkward angle. My throat was raw, my mouth dry and ashy behind the gag which had been shoved between my lips; the cold metal rings on either side of the strip of the leather bit into my face, the strap which circled my head bound so tight the pressure hurt.

I let out a heavy breath through my nose, daring to open my eyes as I rolled onto my back. More rough stone formed the ceiling overhead, flickering with dim light and barely visible. I blinked rapidly to help my eyes become accustomed to the darkness before I turned my head. A chill ran through me as I saw a wall of thick metal bars, glistening silver carved with delicate runework and shimmering with a faint haze of an alchemist’s artificial magic.

Dread settled in my stomach, heavy and uncomfortably cold. The ache in my head increased the longer I stared at the bars; I snatched my gaze away, but I couldn’t escape the faint pressure that emanated from the doors of my cage, the sick feeling of twisted power.

I swallowed against the bitter taste at the back of my throat, wincing as it aggravated the itchy, dry feeling. Closing my eyes, I struggled to wedge my hands against the stone floor beneath me, spreading my fingers for leverage and balance as I squirmed my way into sitting up.

For a moment the whole world spun, and I fought the urge to be sick- knowing it had nowhere to go and I’d only be more miserable for it. I waited for the dizziness to pass before I opened my eyes again.

The rest of the cell was no better. Silver chains hung from where they were bolted into the wall, dangling manacles crusted with dried blood. I felt the uncomfortable prickle from the runes embedded into them- the same faint, aggravating buzz from the rings of the gag pressing into my cheeks. Being surrounded by so many suppressive sigils made me feel sick and weak- and made me worry what they might know, to be so cautious about containing me.

“Finally awake?” The unexpected voice was deep, a raspy rumble of thunder in the quiet of the cell. It made me flinch, my head whipping to take in the other side of the room and realize I was far from alone.

The manacles which were empty and dangling on one side of the room were all used as restraints against the far wall. There were nearly a dozen men and women chained to the cold stone, the manacles shimmering around their wrists. The few that were conscious seemed listless, staring blankly in random directions as if they didn’t truly see what was in front of them.

The only prisoner who seemed alert was the one whose face was turned toward me, his back straight against the stones. He was tall, and I could tell he had once been muscular- though now his skin clung to his ribs in sharply defined lines. He wore rags of clothing, his shirt torn open across his chest and holes ripped through the knees of his stained jeans. A cold shiver ran down my spine as I took in the thick gauze wrapped around his skull, stained with a deep rusty color where the fabric dipped into deep hollows where his eyes should be.

“Cat got your tongue?” An unsettling laugh rumbled out of the man’s throat, “Or did the alchemists take it before they tossed you in here?”

My teeth bit into the thick leather of the gag; all I could manage was a strangled growl, the guttural sound made feeble and weak by the restraint.

The man chained to the wall tipped his head; lank, greasy brown hair fell in chunks over the gauze, his nose wrinkling. “Gagged you, eh? Must think your voice is a threat then. What are you?” He paused, giving off an aggravated huff when I couldn’t answer him. “Come closer so you can answer questions by touch- one nudge for yes, two for no.”

I gave another garbled hiss of sound; the man mockingly repeated it, barking an almost unhinged laugh in my stunned silence.

“Look- I’m sure you’d like to know where you are… what you have to look forward to. If you answer my questions, I’ll tell you.”

Brow furrowed, I stared at the man for a long moment, judging the risk of coming any closer; I doubted he would be much of a threat with his hands bound, and from his words I was sure the alchemists would have pulled his tongue out along with his eyes if he was an incantor. Reluctantly, I made my awkward way toward the man, scooting across the stones on my knees; I could feel rough edges tearing through my pants to my flesh, my teeth digging deeper into the leather as my eyes watered.

I managed to make my way to the wall, sliding into the small gap of space between the man who was speaking and the unconscious form of a woman next to him; her blonde hair was ragged, fluttering with her shallow and uneven breaths, her face deeply flushed and feverish. I dragged my gaze away from her, nudging my shoulder against the man to urge him to speak again.

“They gagged you- you an incantor?”

I shook my head before I caught myself, and nudged him twice instead. Working magic through chants and verbal spells was something I had never mastered- I wasn’t sure if I even had the ability, but I’d certainly never been able to explore it.

Faintly, I saw the man raise an eyebrow under the bandage. “Huh. Can’t be an augmenter like me- you feel like just a little thing.”

I snarled around the gag again, but he wasn’t wrong; working magic to enhance my own body wasn’t my strength, either, though I could manage in a pinch.

“You an elementalist then? They’d want to keep you from talking to your little friends.”

Jaw clenched, I hesitated, unsure how to answer him. It was nothing so simple- though I would have given anything to have my awareness limited to a single branch of spirits. In my unmoving silence, the man gave a low whistle, his face turning toward me; though he was sightless, it still felt as if his gaze burned into me.

“I think I get it. You’re going to be worth a pretty penny, aren’t you? Wonder how long it’ll be before they start selling you off, piece by piece, like the rest of us…” His words dissolved into harsh, mirthless laughter.

The sound chilled me to my bones, coming to the sick realization of the reason for the man’s gauze wrappings. People like us could be sold alive for thousands on the black market… but the real money could be made by dissecting us and selling us off in bits and pieces. Even the eyes of an augmenter could go for a price high enough to make an office worker dizzy.

If they put someone like me on the table, whoever was running this foul business could retire early.