The Celestial Marketplace stretched before Jalil like a labyrinth of shadows and whispered secrets. The stalls were stacked with oddities he could barely comprehend: shimmering vials filled with swirling fog, blades that seemed to hum with life, and small orbs that pulsed like trapped heartbeats. Towering figures, half-seen under ragged cloaks, moved slowly through the aisles, their eyes glinting with intent as they bartered and haggled.
Kian had warned him that this was no ordinary place. Here, existence was stripped of normal rules; in the Celestial Marketplace, no one was fully alive or truly dead. Instead, they simply…existed. Some of the beings moving among the shadows looked almost human, while others were grotesque mixtures of human and animal, or something even more abstract, their forms bending the very fabric of reality. Hunger gnawed at Jalil's insides—a constant, insistent reminder that even here, survival came with a price.
"Stick close to me," Kian whispered, his voice barely audible over the low murmur of the crowd. His eyes darted around, ever-watchful. "And keep quiet. Some of the vendors here don't just sell trinkets. They deal in souls."
Jalil swallowed, feeling the weight of Kian's warning settle over him. The thought of someone selling a soul like a piece of fruit sent a chill through his bones. Still, he forced himself to stay calm, trusting Kian's guidance. He watched Kian closely as they moved through the narrow lanes between stalls, their footsteps muffled by the ever-present hum of voices and the faint, eerie music drifting through the air.
As they neared a quieter corner, Kian pointed out a stall heaped with crates filled with food—half-rotten, perhaps, but still more than they'd seen in days. Kian nodded toward it. "That's our target. While the vendor's distracted, I'll grab some food for us."
"Got it," Jalil replied, taking a steadying breath. He positioned himself near the edge of the stall, keeping his head low and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. His gaze flickered to the vendor, a massive, hunched figure with a hood pulled low over his face. The vendor was busy with a cloaked customer, his back turned, deep in a low, growling conversation.
Jalil glanced around, making sure they were unobserved, before giving Kian a subtle nod. Kian slipped forward, moving as smoothly as a shadow, his hands quick and precise as he reached for the crates at the edge of the vendor's table. But just as he began pulling a loaf of stale bread from the top, his elbow knocked against a precariously stacked pile of glass jars. One jar wobbled, then tipped, crashing to the ground with a deafening shatter.
Jalil's heart skipped a beat as the sound cut through the marketplace like a knife. The vendor whipped around, his hollow eyes blazing with anger. Kian reacted instantly, diving back into the shadows and disappearing into the crowd. But Jalil found himself frozen, caught in the vendor's piercing glare. Before he could react, a bony, clawed hand shot out and clamped around his wrist, holding him in an unbreakable grip.
The vendor leaned in close, his breath icy against Jalil's skin. "Thought you could steal from me, did you?" His voice was a low, sinister growl, each word thick with malice. Up close, the vendor's face was hidden in shadow, his eyes like black pits that gleamed faintly, hinting at something ancient and malevolent.
Jalil struggled, pulling and twisting against the iron grip that held him, but the vendor's hold was relentless. He felt a surge of panic rising in his chest. This wasn't just a scolding; the vendor's gaze held a calculating hunger, as if he saw Jalil as more than just a petty thief. "Let me go!" Jalil gasped, struggling harder, but the vendor only tightened his grip, his mouth twisting into a sinister smile.
"Oh, no," the vendor sneered, dragging Jalil around the side of his stall. "I don't think you understand where you are, boy. The things I sell here are worth more than you could possibly imagine." He reached out, his hand tracing along the shelves of jars behind his stall, each one filled with a faintly glowing light. Jalil felt a sickening dread twist in his stomach as he realized what he was looking at.
The jars were filled with souls.
Each faint glow pulsed softly, like a heartbeat trapped in glass, each one a fragment of a person's very essence, sold and traded like a commodity. The vendor's hand hovered over an empty jar, his fingers curling around it as he turned back to Jalil. "And now…yours will be one of them."
Jalil's eyes widened as the vendor twisted open the jar's lid, the faint glow within flickering to life, as if hungry for something to fill it. Desperation surged within him. He couldn't end up like those souls, trapped in glass, sold off to some monstrous creature in this twisted marketplace. He thrashed against the vendor's hold, trying to free himself, but his movements only seemed to amuse the vendor.
"Struggle all you want," the vendor whispered, his voice a low, mocking hiss. "It only makes you more valuable."
With a swift, practiced motion, the vendor raised the jar, his other hand reaching toward Jalil. Shadows coiled around Jalil's form, tugging at him, pulling him toward the open mouth of the jar as if his very essence was being siphoned out of him. His vision blurred, the sounds around him fading to a distant hum, his strength seeping away as he felt himself being drawn toward the glass prison.
In one final, desperate burst of resistance, Jalil managed to pull back, his fingers scraping against the stall as he tried to cling to the physical world. But the vendor was too strong, his grip like steel as he forced Jalil forward, pushing him fully into the jar. With a soft, triumphant chuckle, the vendor twisted the lid closed, sealing Jalil inside.
The world around him shifted, shrinking, warping as his surroundings faded into a haze. Jalil blinked, disoriented, trying to make sense of the strange, cold space he now occupied. He reached out, pressing his hands against the smooth glass walls of the jar. He was…inside it. His body had become a faint, shimmering light, barely visible against the dim glow of the marketplace beyond. He was no longer a boy, but a trapped soul, just another light on the vendor's shelf.
Through the glass, he could just make out the faint outline of Kian, watching in horror from the shadows. Jalil pounded against the glass, his voice a silent scream as he tried to call out, but no sound escaped his prison. He could only watch as the vendor placed him carefully among the other jars, his face twisted in satisfaction.
Jalil's mind raced, desperation clawing at him as he searched for a way out. But the glass walls were unyielding, a perfect cage that held him completely. He felt a despair settle over him, heavier than anything he'd felt before. This place had stripped him of his freedom, his form, even his voice. And now, he was just…another commodity, trapped on a shelf in the Celestial Marketplace.
As the hours wore on, Jalil's light flickered faintly, a reminder of the life he'd once had. The vendor's laughter echoed in his mind, a haunting reminder of the trap he'd fallen into. But even as the hopelessness grew, a small spark of defiance remained.