It felt strange, after hours of trying to devise ways to get out of that filthy cell, to be fighting so desperately to stay in its dank confines. I dug my heels in against the stone, fighting against the guard’s grip on my cuffs; it made no difference as the man shoved me forward, making me stagger.

“Don’t make this hard on me,” his gruff voice hissed from behind me, prodding me forward again when I stalled. I looked over my shoulder, the leer on his face making my pulse leap with fear. “It’d be a shame if I marked up that pretty face before we put you on stage.”

I swallowed, my throat on fire with the slight movements. My fingers curled in, nails biting into my palms as I considered whether it would be worth it.

“Don’t be an idiot!” The voice of the well-dressed man lashed between us, smooth but tight with an undercurrent of anger. “If he won’t move his feet, pick his ass up- looks like he doesn’t weigh much, so I’m sure you can handle that much.”

My eyes widened, but I had nowhere to go- held back by the guard’s hand still tangled in the chain of my shackles. He yanked on the length of metal, my shoulders straining as I was pulled back into the guard’s grasp.

I wanted to scream and rage- but only faint, muffled sounds of outrage made it past the gag as the guard hefted me over one shoulder. One arm wrapped tightly over my waist, the other keeping my legs pinned against his chest so I wouldn’t kick him. It left my upper half dangling against his back; every step jostled me, his muscles hard every time I was unable to keep my face from hitting his back.

It increased the painful pressure in my head, my whole body throbbing with pain. Tears filled my eyes, dripping down my forehead and into my hairline. Despite the agony, I strived to lift my head and get an idea of my surroundings as the guard followed the rest of his group out of the cell- the door slamming shut and locking with heavy thuds.

In what little glimpses I caught, I could tell we were walking through halls with more stone walls, past other cells that were no doubt full of more prisoners. When we reached the stairs, my teeth dug into the leather gag, fingers curling and uncurling as I was painfully bounced against the guard’s back.

It was a relief to reach the landing, hearing the squeal of a heavy metal door before the world was suddenly suffused with light and noise.

I wasn’t sure what I really expected- but the sounds of a party was the last thing that would have come to mind. I struggled to raise my head, catching glimpses of people in fine clothing, dripping jewels. Interested gazes followed us, expressions unreadable behind heavy, ornate masks which hid the faces of every partygoer. A cold shiver crawled down my spine as I realized it was out of necessity- maintaining the anonymity of people who would soon be bidding on lives… or pieces of them.

Another small flight of stairs- only a few steps- set my teeth on edge. The guard took a couple strides forward before he grasped me by the waist and unceremoniously deposited me on the floor. It was a struggle to keep myself from toppling over, almost falling onto my back when I overcorrected. Once I was stable I shot a dark glare at the guard, irritation growing as he only chuckled and patted his heavy palm against the top of my head.

A low whistle had him stepping around me, joining other guards who were lined up at the back of a small stage; I wasn’t the only prisoner on my knees in front of them, but I didn’t recognize any of them from the cell I had been taken from. There were five of them, mostly women, all shrunken in over their laps as they attempted to make themselves look small and sickly. The only other man was small and lean like me, blonde hair feathered around a face covered in bruises over a leather mask which covered his mouth and jaw; his dark eyes were listless, staring out at the elegant crowd which was beginning to gather at the front of the stage.

The light string music which had been filling the room suddenly cut into an eerie silence. It was quickly broken by the same slick, well-dressed man who had led the group in the cell. He strode forward, front and center on the stage with his back to me as he spread his arms out. His voice was enhanced, booming in the expansive room. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen- and apologies for the wait.”

There was a titter of polite laughter, but I could see irritation in the restless fidgeting and huffing sighs of the gathered crowd.

The well-dressed man noticed it as well, his voice even brighter as he said, “I promise you it was for the better. Our plans for the night have changed slightly with the addition of new goods- something so rare and high quality that it will be hard to believe we discovered it right here in our own city.”

Murmurs of intrigue and anticipation ran through the crowd, my stomach churning as their attention turned to me and the other prisoners. A faint warmth spread across my palms, a trickle of blood as my nails scored deeper into the flesh of my palms. I hated the way they looked at us- like starving predators ready to fight to the death over a single small prey. To them, we weren’t people… we were a product, one they would soon be crawling over each other to attain.

“With that said,” there was a smugness to the announcer’s tone, knowing he had whipped the crowd into a frenzy of curiosity and greed, “It’s time to begin the night’s main event!”

With the clap of his hands, people sprang into motion. The auction started innocently enough; rare tools were auctioned off along with charmed jewels and wards. They were items that were commonplace enough to not raise eyebrows, though their quality made them rare and expensive. It wasn’t long, however, before the mood of the room changed and they began to bring out the real ‘goods’.

My guts squirmed, bile scalding the back of my throat as I watched one of the attendants wheel out the first glass jar full of preservatives. A pair of perfectly intact eyeballs were suspended in the pale blue solution; the image of my companion in the cell flashed through my mind, and I fought the urge to be sick as I couldn’t help wondering if this was what had become of his eyes. It was cruel, a horrible and disgusting practice- but they were sold quickly for thousands of dollars to an eager customer who was no doubt already planning their next experiment.

It continued that way for so long my mind began to grow numb to the horrors. I didn’t flinch when the hands of an artificer sent a shockwave through the crowd, or when two bickering rivals drove the price of an elementalist’s heart almost into 6 digits. This was a reality I had been running from for years… and I knew there was no escaping it now, as they began to drag the prisoners forward one by one.

Two of the women were elementalists, sold at a staggering price- one which only climbed as the other women were announced as artificers, capable of weaving magic into charms like the wards that every member of the crowd wore to protect them. The tension in the room was growing as the last of the prisoners was pulled forward, the young man standing perfectly still in the domineering hands of the guards. He was an incantor, the mask sealing his mouth so he couldn’t protect himself, and his price rose into the hundreds of thousands by the time the announcer called the winning bid.

I flinched as my turn came, one of the guards stepping forward to wrench me to my feet; the hungry gazes of the crowd made me shrink back, knowing they were like sharks in the water waiting for the scent of blood. Digging my heels in again didn’t stall the guard; it only seemed to frustrate him, the man grunting as he threw me to my knees in front of the announcer.

My eyes watered as the announcer’s fingers grasped a handful of hair to jerk my head up, displaying me for his eager audience. “It’s been a while since we’ve boasted such high quality merchandise in one of our auctions, but I am pleased to offer this one for your enjoyment.” He paused a moment, savoring the rising whispers, before saying, “We found this one in a potion shop dosing on an elixir to block its sight. We’ve kept it gagged and bound, so there’s no telling the true extent of its power… but I don’t think I need to tell you how valuable even the weakest spiritseer can be in the hands of an experienced alchemist.”

The room exploded into frenzied muttering, hands already shooting up with markers to make bigs. The announcer gave a soft laugh, holding up his hands to pause them. “We’ll begin the bidding at ten thousand dollars, starting… now.”

I was trembling, the color draining out of my face as the numbers quickly rose. Fifty thousand, a hundred thousand… almost a million by the time the bidding began to slow. My eyes darted between the participants, heart sinking as I saw a portly man lick at his lips, the man raising his marker across the crowd tall and gaunt with dark nails that grew to pointed tips. I closed my eyes, head lowered as I waited for the final call- for the axe to drop on my neck.

Rather than the final bid, it was a wave of shocked gasps that brought my head up again. Opening my eyes, I found the crowd had parted for a single man. The light shone off tousled silver hair, its sheen almost blue against his pale skin. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal grey suit, one I could tell was expensive even though I was inexperienced with finer clothing. If that hadn’t proved he came from a wealthy family, the golden marker he had raised over his head would have proved it. He was a VIP, someone who even the announcer was staring at in shock.

“Five million.” The man’s voice was flat in tone, but the sound of it was deep and rich as it rolled across the crowd.

His words brought on a heavy silence, the announcer swallowing as his gaze raked over the crowd; a formality, as even I knew nobody would dare to bid against somebody with such a powerful aura. The auctioneer clapped his hands together, his voice slightly shaky as he called out, “Sold for five million to the VIP! You can collect him with your other purchases-”

“No.” Though he was still quiet and level, the single word immediately silenced the announcer. None of the guards moved to stop the man as he ascended the stairs onto the stage. The auctioneer quickly released his hold on me at the wealthy man’s sharp glare.

It should have been a relief, but I couldn’t stop shaking as I stared up at the man in front of me- a man who had just purchased me like an animal. He was no savior… just another ready to use me for his own benefit.

The man crouched down, silver hair falling over his face in a way that would be charming if it weren’t for the cold, clinical interest in his eyes and the cruel smirk that pulled at his lips. His hand snatched at my shirt, long fingers curling in the fabric and yanking my forward.

I fought to keep my balance so I didn’t fall into him, straining against his hold as my teeth gritted around the thick leather gag. My struggles didn’t seem to phase him- if anything the man appeared amused as he watched me.

My pulse was racing as I stared at him, wondering what sick curiosity had driven him- what reason he had to spend such an ungodly amount of money on me.

He leaned closer, the movement sending a chill down my spine as it put his lips almost against my ear. His voice was smooth, deep, and quiet- the voice of death itself- whispering the answer to my silent questions in words that made my heart sink with dread: “I know who you really are.”