The wind howled through the crumbling walls of the marketplace. I couldn't decipher why I stood there, watching people go by, my wrists bound by coarse rope. Laughter and gossip filled the air, drowning out the chaos within me.

"Why am I here?" I whispered to myself. "How did I end up like this?"

I glanced around, spotting others—children, teenagers, and adults—all with their hands tied, their faces blank with exhaustion or despair. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten or the last time I had heard my parents' voices—if I had ever heard them at all.

My head was bowed as I tried to avoid the stares of all people who went by. They didn't see a person. They saw a tool; a tool that would be bought, used and eventually discarded. I felt my eyes welling up in tears as I kept my gaze at the ground when, suddenly, the auctioneer's voice rang out.

"Ah, look at this one!" the auctioneer boomed, his voice dripping with mockery. "The little princess has some tears for us. Perhaps she thinks crying will fetch her a better price!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd, sharp and cruel. I clenched my fists, tried holding back my tears, but they threatened to fall as the laughter continued to echo in my ears.

"Don't be shy now!" the man sneered, stepping closer to tilt my chin up with the edge of a wooden cane. "Let them see your pretty face. A little broken, but still worth something!"

The crowd roared with amusement as tears streamed down my face. Shame burned through me, but I kept my mouth shut, swallowing back the sob that threatened to escape.

"Quiet, but spirited," the auctioneer added with a smirk, turning back to his audience. "Who'll start the bidding for this one?"

The murmurs in the crowd grew louder as the auctioneer paced back and forth, waving his arms dramatically. "Strong enough to work, young enough to last!" he bellowed. "A rare find, I tell you! Do I hear fifty gold pieces to start?"

"Fifty!" a voice called out from somewhere in the crowd.

"Fifty? For this one?" The auctioneer feigned outrage, grinning all the while. "Come now, gentlemen! She's worth more than that! Look at her—young, sturdy, and obedient. "He emphasized the last word with a pointed glance at me, his smirk widening as he saw my jaw tighten. "Eighty! Do I hear eighty?"

"Eighty," another voice said, gruffer this time.

The bids climbed higher and higher. I felt my head grow dizzy, my vision blurring as I continued to view the crowd. I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing I could vanish, disappear into the wind that swirled around us.

"Ninety-five!"

"Ninety-five, eh?" The auctioneer grinned. "Anyone else?"

The crowd started to murmur as the auctioneer spoke up, a smirk plastered on his face.

"No one? So, Ninety-five! Going once, going twice—"

"Two hundred."

The voice was calm, firm and commanding. The whole crowd went silent, making way for the person who spoke up. I looked up for the source of the voice and my gaze was met with a tall, intimidating man. Though my vision was a blur, I could still see his dark cloak brushing the dusty ground, his face obscured by a hood and I could tell that his posture radiated authority.

The auctioneer faltered for a moment, his confidence wavering. "Two hundred?" he echoed in slight disbelief.

The man nodded, stepping forward. "Two hundred. Do we have a deal?"

The auctioneer hesitated but quickly recovered, a sly grin creeping across his face. "Of course, of course! Sold!" he declared, slamming his cane against the wooden platform for emphasis.

As the crowd began to disperse, I felt the weight of the man's gaze settle on me. For a moment, I couldn't move. Who was he? Why was he spending so much money on someone like me?

Before I could find an answer, the auctioneer barked at one of his lackeys to untie me. My wrists were freed, but the raw, red marks on my skin remained. The man extended his hand to me, "Come." 

I glanced at his extended hand, hesitating, but I had no choice, so I took his hand. His grip firm but gentle as he started to lead me through the crowd.

"You're safe now." The man spoke, his voice calm and quiet.

I wasn't sure if I believed him, but it certainly didn't stop me from wondering, "Will I finally be free?"