"Not as much as I'd like," Juan admitted. "It's far, and the road isn't always safe. But when I do go, I always get a honey cake from Old Tam's stall. You'll see-it's the best thing in the whole market."
Jea smiled, feeling a flicker of normalcy in the strange world she found herself in. The path ahead was uncertain, but for now, she focused on the journey, determined to learn more about this place and its secrets.
As the sun climbed higher, the market came into view-a bustling hub of life and energy nestled in a small valley. Jea's heart quickened. Perhaps this trip would bring her closer to understanding her place in this world.
*****
Three Months later
In Greenland Village, Athena, a 17-year-old girl, had been awake since three in the morning, moving quietly through the kitchen. The first rays of sunlight peeked through the windows, spreading a soft yellow glow across the counters as she worked. She prepared breakfast for her family and the rest of the Green, her hands steady despite the faint ache in her left hand-a painful reminder of yesterday's punishment.
The pink glass bowl-her stepmother's favourite-sat near the edge of the table as she chopped vegetables and sausages. Her focus slipped, and the knife nicked her finger. The pain startled her, and before she could steady the table, the bowl fell.
It crashed to the floor, breaking into sharp pieces. The sound echoed through the quiet kitchen, loud and harsh. Athena froze, her breath catching in her throat. Panic gripped her as she knelt to pick up the shards, her hands shaking. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. Crying would only make things worse.
The kitchen door slammed open. "What is going on?" a sharp voice demanded. High Witch Eva, Athena's stepmother, stormed in. Her pink silk robe flowed behind her as her black heels clicked loudly against the tiled floor. Her eyes darted to the broken bowl, then to Athena.
Eva's hand struck Athena's face before she could speak. The sting was sharp and sudden, her cheek burning from the force. "You stupid, useless girl!" Eva yelled. "That bowl was my favourite! Do you have any idea how much it cost?"
"I'm sorry, Stepmother," Athena whispered, her voice small. "It was an accident-"
"An accident?" Eva's voice dripped with anger. "Your whole life is an accident. Weak, magicless, and a waste of space."
The words cut deep, reopening wounds that had never healed. Before Athena could respond, her father stepped into the kitchen. Warlock Jose's tall, stern figure filled the doorway. His cold eyes swept over the scene.
"That's enough, Eva," he said sharply. His gaze shifted to Athena, making her stomach churn. "We have more important things to talk about."
Athena's heart raced. His tone was cold, and the look in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. "Athena," he said slowly, "you have been nothing but a burden to this family. I cannot allow you to stay here any longer."
Her breath caught. "What do you mean, Father?" she asked, her voice trembling. Deep down, she feared she already knew. She had heard whispers that her father owed the King a debt and had promised to send slaves as payment. But she had told herself it couldn't be true. Not about her. Not his own daughter.
Jose's lips curled into a cruel smile. "The King needs payment. You will take the place of ten slaves. As my daughter, you are worth more."
The words hit her like a slap. "No!" she cried, dropping to her knees. "Please, Father, don't do this. I'll work harder. I'll do better-just don't send me away!"
"Silence!" His hand struck her, and she fell to the floor. Pain shot through her, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.
Eva sneered down at her. "You're lucky," she said coldly. "If it were up to me, I'd throw you out to the wolves. The palace is your only hope."
Athena turned to her brother, Nathaniel, who stood silently in the doorway. "Nathan, please," she begged. "You promised to protect me."
He looked away, shame on his face. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I can't help you."
Jose's voice was cold and final. "You are no longer my daughter," he said. "You are no longer part of this family."
Tears streamed down Athena's face as guards arrived to take her away. Their hands were rough, pulling her from the only home she had ever known. She looked back one last time. Her stepmother's glare, her father's hard expression, and her brother's silence burned into her memory.
As they dragged her toward the palace, her tears flowed freely. But beneath her sorrow, something else stirred. A spark of anger. A promise to herself. I will survive. I will make them all pay.
The King may have claimed her, but she vowed to take back her life-and find her magic.
*****
The journey to the palace was long and silent, with Athena crammed into the corner of the carriage, her wrists bound tightly. The palace guards sat across from her, their eyes cold and uninterested. Her mind spun with fear and despair, but she bit her lip to keep from crying again. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.
As the carriage rolled through the dark woods, it approached a small, abandoned village. The place loomed like a ghost town, its broken buildings casting eerie shadows under the dimming evening light. Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a halt.
"What's going on?" one of the guards barked, peering out of the window.
Before anyone could answer, hooded figures emerged from the surrounding trees. They moved quickly, their cloaks blending with the shadows. The thieves brandished weapons-rusty swords, clubs, and crude daggers-and surrounded the carriage.
"Hand over the silver and no one gets hurt," one of them growled, his voice rough and commanding.
The palace guards wasted no time. They drew their swords and leapt from the carriage, shouting commands. The air was soon filled with the clash of metal and the shouts of battle. Athena shrank back into the corner of the carriage, her heart pounding in her chest.
The fight was brutal and short. Outnumbered and unprepared, the palace guards fell one by one. The thieves, clearly skilled in ambushes, overpowered them with ease. Within minutes, the guards were either dead or fleeing into the woods, leaving Athena alone in the carriage.
The leader of the thieves yanked open the carriage door, expecting to find bags of silver coins or other treasures. Instead, his gaze landed on Athena, who stared back at him with wide, frightened eyes. Her simple dress and bound wrists made her situation clear.
"What's this?" he muttered, climbing into the carriage. He grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her forward. "They were transporting a slave?"
Another thief climbed in, frowning. "Where's the treasure? They must've been hiding something."
"There's nothing else here," the leader said, his voice laced with frustration. "Just her."
"What do we do with her?" another thief asked. "She's no treasure."
The leader glanced at Athena again, his sharp eyes narrowing. "No, but she might fetch something. Take her to the township. Someone there will pay for her."
Athena's heart sank as the thieves began talking over her like she was nothing more than an object to be sold. They argued briefly-some of them thinking it wasn't worth the effort-but in the end, they agreed. She was dragged from the carriage, her arms bound even tighter, and forced to walk with the group as they made their way toward a nearby township.
The path was rough, and Athena stumbled often, her legs weak from the long journey and the fear weighing on her. The thieves ignored her struggles, pulling her along whenever she faltered. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to escape, but her options were slim. She was outnumbered and outmatched.