Darkness greeted Kaidan as he regained consciousness, the sharp sting of pain radiating from the back of his skull. His vision swam as he tried to focus, the world around him spinning. His wrists ached, and a dull weight pulled at them. Chains. Cold iron wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles, biting into his skin.
He shifted, the clinking of metal echoing in the confined space. Slowly, his senses returned. A dim light flickered through the slats of what he now realized was a wooden cage, perched on the back of a moving cart.
Beside him, the chest sat locked inside a smaller cage, its glow faintly visible through the cracks. The sight of it sparked a brief surge of anger, but it was quickly swallowed by the weight of his situation.
"Finally awake, huh?"
The voice came from outside the cage. Kaidan turned his head to see Mickel grinning at him, a bloodied rock still in his hand.
"Gave you a good one over the head, didn't I?" Mickel sneered. "Bet you didn't see that coming after all your little tricks."
Jeska sat nearby, her arms crossed, though her face was pale and drawn. She seemed more amused than triumphant, her sharp auburn hair framing a smirk.
"You know," Jeska said, glancing at Kaidan, "I've got to hand it to you, boy. You've got this look about you—like the kind of face that doesn't belong out in the woods, fighting for scraps. If I wasn't a mature woman, I might just keep you for myself."
Kaidan shot her a glare, the fire in his mismatched eyes—one a piercing sapphire blue, the other a molten gold—undimmed by his chains. His sharp jawline was bruised from the fight, his messy black hair falling in jagged strands that framed his striking features. Even smeared with dirt and blood, his presence had an almost ethereal quality, as though the world hadn't yet tarnished him completely.
Mickel, walking beside her, let out a low chuckle. "You? A mature woman? Jeska, you can barely keep a husband. Last one ran off screaming."
Jeska rolled her eyes, though the grin stayed on her lips. "Maybe because I set my sights too low. Should've aimed for someone with a face like this one. Shame he's got no freedom left to enjoy it."
"Focus, Jeska," Mickel said with mock patience. "We're here for the money, not romance. And with a face like his, we're going to make more than enough to forget how much trouble he's caused."
Lenn, sitting at the front of the cart, glanced back nervously. "Do we really have to sell him? It feels... wrong."
Jeska shrugged. "Spare me your conscience, Lenn. He's a pretty boy with strange eyes and a defiant streak—someone out there will pay a fortune for him. This is business."
A Caged Journey
The cart rattled along uneven roads, each bump jostling Kaidan in his cramped cage. He stared at the chest, frustration boiling within him. So close. It was supposed to change everything...
Instead, the chest sat mockingly out of reach while he was chained like an animal.
The hours passed slowly. Night turned into day, and the cart rolled on, the landscape shifting from dense forest to open plains. Kaidan remained silent, his body aching with every movement.
The bandits didn't bother talking to him anymore, their focus on the journey ahead. But Kaidan's mind was far from silent.
This is it, he thought bitterly. The end. No escape, no miracles. Just... the end.
Memories of his parents flickered in his mind—their laughter, their warmth, their dreams for him. His mother's voice, soft and kind, echoed in his thoughts.
"You're destined for something greater, Kaidan. I can feel it."
He clenched his fists, the chains digging into his wrists. Some destiny, he thought. Bound like an animal, waiting to be sold.
The Auction House
The cart came to a halt outside a massive structure, its dark, towering walls casting long shadows over the cobblestone street. The air reeked of sweat, smoke, and desperation.
"Alright," Mickel barked. "Unload the goods."
Jeska and Lenn climbed onto the cart, unlocking the cages. They grabbed the chest first, hauling it down with care before turning their attention to Kaidan.
Jeska smirked as she unlocked his cage. "Hope you're ready for the big stage, boy. Your audience is going to love you."
They dragged him out, the chains clinking loudly as he stumbled to the ground. Mickel shoved him forward, and they led him through the iron gates of the auction house.
Inside, the air was stifling. Rows of cages lined the walls, each one containing men, women, and children of various ages and races. Their eyes were dull, their spirits broken.
Kaidan was shoved into one of the empty cages, the door slamming shut behind him.
"This one's special," Mickel told the auctioneer, a thin, wiry man with sunken eyes. "Make sure the right buyers see him."
The auctioneer's gaze lingered on Kaidan's mismatched eyes, a greedy smile spreading across his face. "Oh, he'll fetch quite the price. Exotic, young, healthy... yes, the nobles will fight over him."
Mickel grinned, slapping the auctioneer on the back. "That's what I like to hear."
As they walked away, Kaidan sank to the floor of the cage, his head resting against the cold bars.
This is it, he thought again, the weight of despair pressing down on him. No more fighting. No more running. Just... the end.
But deep down, beneath the pain and exhaustion, a spark of defiance flickered.
No. Not yet.
He clenched his fists, his mismatched eyes glinting faintly in the dim light.
This wasn't the end.
This was the beginning.