The sun hung low on the horizon as Isabella's carriage made its way toward the ship bound for the sanctuary. The air was filled with anticipation, each passing moment drawing them closer to the crucial ceremony awaiting Kenshin and his companions.
However, fate had other plans in store.
As the carriage rounded a bend, it encountered an unexpected obstacle: a human trafficker and his young captive. The boy, with his mesmerizing eyes and unkempt appearance, tugged at Isabella's heartstrings, igniting a spark of determination within her.
"Stop the carriage," Isabella commanded, her voice cutting through the air with authority.
SebastiƔn, ever attentive, halted the carriage, his gaze alternating between Isabella and the unfolding scene with concern.
Stepping down from the carriage onto the dusty roadside, Isabella's eyes narrowed as they fell upon the chained boy. She had witnessed enough injustices in her life, and this moment presented an opportunity to right a wrong, albeit through unconventional means.
Kenshin, sensing his mother's determined purpose, followed her, his curiosity mingling with apprehension. "Mother, what is happening?" he asked softly, "Why the sudden stop"
Isabella placed a reassuring hand on Kenshin's shoulder, her gaze unwavering from the situation. "Stay here" she murmured, her mind already formulating a plan.
Approaching the trafficker with measured steps, Isabella's voice carried a blend of authority and persuasion. "I have an offer for you," she began, her tone brooking no argument.
The trafficker, a weathered man with a calculating glint in his eyes, observed Isabella with curiosity and skepticism. "What could you offer that would interest me?" he countered, his tone laced with arrogance.
Isabella's gaze flicked briefly to Kenshin before returning to the trafficker, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I will exchange my son for the boy," she stated bluntly, her words carrying weighty meaning.
The trafficker's laugh was scornful, a sound that grated on Isabella's nerves. "Why would I trade one mouth to feed for another? What makes your son so special?"
"Blood," Isabella responded with unyielding conviction. "Noble blood, charged with the potential for magic. Isn't that a prized possession?"
The trafficker's interest was piqued, though he maintained a facade of indifference. "Prove it," he challenged, indicating to Isabella to back up her claim.
Isabella demonstrated her magical prowess by manipulating the wind around her fingers, showcasing her gift. "I possess the gift of magic. Surely, the boy you have there doesn't have such abilities. Shall we make the deal?" she challenged, her tone confident.
The trafficker pondered for a moment, contemplating his options, but before he could respond, Isabella interrupted his thoughts with a decisive "tick-tock," signaling the impending decision. Caught off guard, the trafficker relented, agreeing to the deal.
Isabella swiftly approached her carriage, grasping Kenshin by the arm and transferring him to the trafficker, who bound Kenshin and released the other boy. Isabella then pushed the boy towards the trafficker, affirming the completion of their agreement. "A deal well made. Carry on," she remarked coolly as she departed in her carriage with her newfound son, leaving Kenshin with the trafficker as they headed towards into the forest.
Deeper into the forest's heart ventured Kenshin, led by the impatient trafficker whose temper flared with every stumble the young boy made.
"Move faster, boy! We don't have all day," barked the trafficker, his impatience evident in the sharpness of his tone.
Struggling to keep up, Kenshin replied meekly, "I'm trying, sir."
"Trying isn't good enough! If you keep up this pace, we'll never get there," the trafficker retorted, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.
"I-I'm sorry, sir. I'll do better," Kenshin stammered, a mix of fear and earnestness in his voice.
The trafficker's scrutiny intensified as Kenshin's steps faltered once again. "What's wrong with you? Why do you keep stumbling?" he demanded, suspicion lacing his words.
"It's... it's nothing, sir. Just a small injury," Kenshin explained, his words carefully chosen to conceal the truth of his blindness.
"Injury, huh? Well, we don't have time for weaklings here," the trafficker scoffed, showing little empathy for Kenshin's plight.
Their journey through the thick woods led them to a hidden clearing, where a makeshift camp lay nestled under the canopy's shade. Carriages, modified with cells, hinted at the trafficker's dubious dealings.
"Get in there and don't make a sound!" commanded the trafficker as he unlocked one of the cells.
"Yes, sir," Kenshin replied softly, obeying with a mixture of resignation and trepidation.
"That's where you belong, until I say otherwise. Don't try anything funny," warned the trafficker, his eyes narrowing with distrust.
"Understood, sir," Kenshin affirmed quietly, his heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty and fear.
As the door clanged shut behind him, sealing him in darkness, Kenshin's mind raced with questions. "Where is my mother?" he whispered softly to himself, his voice barely audible in the confined space. "Why did she leave me? Where did she go?"
The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sound of rustling leaves outside the cell. Kenshin's thoughts spiraled into a vortex of despair until the trafficker's cruel words pierced through the stillness like a dagger.
"You're wondering about your mother, aren't you?" the trafficker taunted from beyond the bars. "She traded you for a nobody, a worthless exchange."
Kenshin's heart sank at the callousness of the words, his world shattering with the realization that he was abandoned and traded away like a mere commodity. The forest echoed with his silent anguish, a poignant symphony of despair hidden beneath the canopy's embrace.