Chapter 38: From frying pan to the pot

‎"Twenty-five!"

‎"Thirty!"

‎"Thirty-five on the left!"

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‎A bidding war erupted between a gaunt man in a scholar’s robe, a woman whose face was covered and a hulking brute with a shaved head and a ring in his nose. The woman whose face was covered seemed be on the winning side, she was winning.

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‎"Fifty silver!" the woman roared.

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‎The scholar shook his head and turned away. The auctioneer’s guavel was raised.

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‎"Fifty silver going once... going twice..."

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‎This was it. someone else would be thinking that this would be the end of their life. that they would have to worked to death in some lightless hole, a forgotten cog in a machine of greed. But in his mind he was thinking 50 silver is small, that it is a small price for someone as great as him. A wave of such profound, soul-crushing grief washed over him that it felt like a physical blow. A big physical wound for someone as great as him to be sold for 50 silver, why wasn’t it a thousand gold coin.

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‎A primal scream of rage and denial built in his throat. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated defiance. And just as the gavel was about to fall, the world erupted into chaos.

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‎It started as a low rumble, a vibration that traveled up through the soles of his bare feet. The crowd’s roar faltered, replaced by a confused murmur. The ground beneath the platform began to shake violently, a deep, guttural groan echoing from the earth itself. It was an earthquake.

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‎People screamed. The finely dressed merchants and their pampered clients scrambled for cover as mud-brick buildings began to crumble. I almost want to laugh at the scene if not that the location I stand at is also being affected. A large section of the wall enclosing the market square buckled and collapsed in a cloud of dust and debris. The auction platform lurched, throwing the auctioneer and me to the ground.

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‎The master-chain that had bound him for so long was attached to a heavy iron stake driven deep into the ground near the platform. The violent shaking of the earth had loosened the soil, and the stake was now tilting precariously, like a little tug could free him from the chain.

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‎I saw my chance, I immediately tug at the chain bounding me to the ground. the chain immediately free me. it only remain the one on my hand, the chain that is somehow restricting the only semblance of power he is able to use, since the time he came to this place.

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‎He quickly look around found some huge rock, maybe it was part of the debris that was falling, that didn’t concern him at all, all he cared about was saving himself. He grabbed the rock then went towards a location where he won’t be easily found. after reaching there he began to bang the rock in the chain on his hand, he have a feeling that if he wants to escape he have to have his light power working, even if it is just the touch light part.

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‎Although he finally broke the chain, but not without consequences, he injured himself in the process, but that wasn’t important to him, injury can heal. He have to use this sliver of an opportunity, born of catastrophe.

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‎The brute who had bought him was thrown off his feet, roaring in fury as he tried to find his balance. The guards were in disarray, more concerned with their own survival than their merchandise.

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‎He peeped from his hidden location, he saw the unfolding chaos in full glory, he could even feel it from his location.

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‎The brute, Vorg’s head of security, had regained his footing. His eyes, small and cruel, locked onto him from his hidden place. He drew a wicked-looking curved sword, its edge gleaming in the dusty sunlight.

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‎"You’re not going anywhere, slave!" he snarled, charging.

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‎"you’ve got to be kidding me my mind thought, even though I was still calm on the surface, but inside I was just thinking, why now, why should it have to be me, can’t thing just go my own way.

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‎Friesian didn’t think. He acted on pure instinct. He swung the heavy chain that was previously binding him. It was a clumsy, desperate move, but the sheer weight of the iron was a weapon in itself. The chain whistled through the air and wrapped around the brute’s sword arm. He yanked hard. The brute roared in pain as his arm was twisted at a sickening angle, the sword clattering to the ground.

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‎Friesian didn’t stop. He swung the chain again, this time aiming for the man’s head. The heavy iron links connected with a sickening crunch. The brute’s eyes went wide with shock before he crumpled to the ground, a puppet with its strings cut.

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‎The path to freedom was clear. It was a gaping hole in the collapsed wall, leading into the labyrinthine streets of the slave traders market

‎. Other slaves who also got the chance to loose their chain were also taking advantage of the chaos. The boy, Derrin was clawing at the face of the man who had bought him. Another slave had grabbed a fallen guard’s spear and was lashing out with a wild, terrified fury.

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‎I ran. I didn’t look back. The thought in my mind was one man for himself. I drop the chain and let it trailed behind me, a heavy burden, but he barely felt its weight. The only thing that mattered was the hole in the wall, the promise of escape. I scrambled over the rubble, the sharp stones cutting into his bare feet, and plunged into the city.

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‎The streets were a scene of pandemonium. The earthquake had been brief but devastating. Buildings were cracked, some had completely collapsed. Fires had started, sending plumes of black smoke into the sky. People were running in every direction, their screams a chorus of terror.

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‎I ducked into a narrow alley, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I leaned against a wall, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was finally free of that stinky bondage. But there’s one thing he would always remember, a humiliating reminder of his status of being sold for 50 silver coin. He solemnly took an oath that if he caught any of the bidders on the road, he would greet them with a couple of stones on the head.

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‎He moved deeper into the city, keeping to the shadows. He had no money, no clothes beyond the clothes he had been wearing for five days straight, The cloth that was already emitting it own scent now, he and no idea where to go. He was a fugitive in a city of slavers. Every face was almost the face of an enemy, so he have to be prepared.

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‎He was free, but he was branded with the scar of a daunting memory.

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‎As the sun began to set, casting long, bloody shadows through the shattered streets, Friesian’s initial euphoria began to fade, replaced by a gnawing, cold dread. He had escaped the slavers, but he had escaped into what?

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‎He needed food, water, and shelter. He needed to get out of the city. The main gates would be heavily guarded, especially now. He would have to find another way.

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‎He wandered through the city’s underbelly, a maze of twisting alleys and forgotten courtyards. He saw the true face of the slave market in the twilight. He saw thin, desperate children picking through garbage. He saw men with dead eyes selling vials of a strange, glowing liquid. He saw women trading their bodies for a single piece of bread. This was a city where survival was a full-time job, and morality was a luxury no one could afford.

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‎As I keep on walking lost, I believe I finally came across a room, a house that felt like that crazy annoying rock, so I decided that it is a clue. I decided to enter the room, even with the gut feeling telling me that I won’t like the new situation I meet myself in. So I hypnotized my mind into believing that the situation would be far better than the slave traders situation.

‎But I was wrong very, wrong, or was I right because I met myself in a room full of fine sexy blond, red hairs with hour glass figures dressing, some were just wearing their brassieres, and I got to see it. I believe this is a reward from god for the slave traders situation.

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‎I believe this is an apology, and I gladly accept the apology, I have even forget about my past situation, all my focus is on this situation now.

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‎I hid and keep peeping, until it reached the point were they’re almost done dressing. I then began to look for a way out of the room. As I was looking I mistakenly fall something down.

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‎The thing that fell to the ground turned out to be a vase, and it wasn’t quiet at all. in my mind I was praying to the god that gave me this special gift, praying to the God to not make the woman notice me at all, but it turns out that the God as abandoned me after granting me the gift. As I turned my back to look, I saw all the women eyes at me.

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‎And not to my surprise, their eyes which was ready beautiful now have the look of someone who is our for blood, and I have a feeling that it was my blood they are out to get. So as the great person I am, I have to say something, I have to clear my name.

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‎"Hi there, this is not what you are thinking, this is just a mistake, I didn’t see much. "after saying that, I felt that the blood lust in their eyes just went deeper, like they got more angrier, and I don’t know the reason why.

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‎But I know one thing, and that one thing is that I have to escape from this room, because if I did not I would be torn apart by all this heavenly defying beautiful woman. They would tear my beautiful body apart like rabid beasts.