‘You should only work with battle-related aspects, or are you something else entirely? After all, you did help me in peeling the potatoes. Maybe it’s related to physical activities?’ He asked himself a question, however, hearing the specific tongue roll out from beyond the interior walls, he quickly looked outside, at the high walls stretching far into his sight.

  ‘The questions are only adding on, but at least I’m learning something about it,’ thinking whilst the glib glove straightened out around his right hand underneath his movements, before he could focus on the demonic words, Lutiel once again saw as the surroundings moved.

  Repeatedly, the sight never seemed to change, only the little details screaming out to the man. The building he had seen so many times, seemed to have gone away, or at least its frame as the exterior walls were set in place. Instead, in the other, empty part of the street, another frame was being built, to fill out all of the bare and blind areas of the city.

  Glancing down at the street where the slaves used to soil their feet and attire through, it no longer splashed around as much. The mud that always glistened stopped being sunk into, the cold nights hardening it enough to imitate the stone slabs around the higher parts.

  Nonetheless, despite the little changes, he saw the same images dancing around in his pupils. Walking along the ground in groups, the middle-aged slaves with missing parts of their faces and limbs pulled onto the chains, nearly not as many needed to roll the carriage’s wheels about.

  Battling through the gray hairs around their heads, white smoke escaped the mouths of the slaves all around, shivering from the scarce and thin clothing they wore. Meanwhile, the demons that sat on the carriages while being carried, fitted themselves with coats that forbade any piercing gust upon their body.

  ‘Even though I’m somewhat aware of their circumstances, it’s still hard watching them like this,’ he thought to himself, albeit the scenery around him starting to transform. Watching the crowd that seemed to have lost their spark of interest in the dark carriage, he eventually cooled his mind off, focusing on the task at hand instead.

  So, taking the note filled with ingredients he needed to acquire from the market, he gripped it while observing the streets outside of the window change briskly, usually the varying sizes and colors of the buildings differentiating them. However, glancing at all of the similarities in the layouts, he finally stopped searching for the changes since Ravier’s voice ingrained itself inside his ears.

  “We’re here,” he spoke as always, succumbing to himself around his driver’s seat as though nothing else mattered.

  “Thank you,” replied Lutiel, followed only by a meek click of doors being opened, a nippy breath of the winds welcoming his hair, swaying them erratically upon the world. And as soon as the man’s shoulders escaped the carriage’s grasp, coiling gazes reverberated across all over his frame, bouncing back to the eyes of the beholders.

  The demons stared at him eerily closer than ever before, too curious for the man. Even if he tried to ignore them, the potency overwhelmed his mind. ‘They aren’t hateful, at least,’ he mused before letting off the matter.

  Seeing a larger vision embrace his eyes, he stared at the column of pedestrians walking straight ahead before they siphoned out to certain stands on the sides.

  Already familiar to him, he didn’t ponder much about the market, simply walking through the inquisitive glances around him. Sticking quite close to the buildings, his body started to lead away to the middle of the road, yet, he stopped suddenly. Creasing the skin of his forehead, along with the eyebrows, the man stretched out his hands through the space.

  Immediately, he hit a wall of some sort, invisible one at that. Caressing his hands against what felt like an impenetrable barrier, he quickly scoured through the area around, especially taking a few looks at the demons.

  Some few stopped, looking around themselves and whispering to each other, catching the interest of new passers. However, they could never focus their attention on his image. With somewhat confused eyes, they didn’t linger around for too long. ‘They were the ones that saw me step out of the carriage, are they pretending not to see me?’ He asked himself, despite a certain idea having briskly formed within.

  Before he could execute the thought, though, his body moved on its, swiftly hitting another of the obscure walls restraining him. Nevertheless, it was enough to impede the movements of the wind from his right.

  Grazing along his jacket, arms veiled by murky sleeves went down swiftly, cutting through the air with the sack the hidden figure possessed. Having failed its task, the extensive cloak that covered the whole of the person moved back quickly whilst barely dodging the thrust of Lutiel’s legs.

  Shadows crawled up beneath the hooded face, followed by a groan when the figure caught itself around the left hip. Meanwhile, the slave glanced ahead of him, at what should have been the facade of a building. ‘I’ve fallen into a trap again, damn it,’ he cursed whilst staring at the vast alley that didn’t let in much of the sky.

  However, he couldn’t think for a long while, staring at the two companions of the assaulter already running straight at him. Clenching his jaw as he could only go forward, Lutiel tightened his fists whilst bracing his stance.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Yet, as he suddenly brought his arms up to guard his face, his eyes screamed, quivering as he realized he had become stuck. ‘Ugh!’ he groaned, his throat releasing mere, incoherent mumbles while the hooded figure ahead of him stopped, their left arm sprawled out of the costume.

  Moving their head towards the two others by the side, the figure with the bag approached him rapidly, only adding to his boiling blood. Regardless, he could do nothing against the might of what could have only been magic.

  Despite the harsh, internal struggles of his, Lutiel could only succumb to the darkness as the rough material brushed against his face. Before long, still immured through the invisible might, he felt as his body was being dragged, towards the depths of the alley.

  Unable to oppose the trio in the slightest, only his thoughts permeated through the space, their silence digging further into his uncertainty. ‘Who the hell are these guys? Are they after the coin? No, they would have taken it already by then. Are they kidnapping me, then?’ Pondering while feeling the passage of time physically, his body tremored, reverberating with pain as he was abruptly thrown somewhere.

  ‘Haa, I don’t like where this is going,’ thinking as the heart threatened to rupture out of his chest, there was nothing he could do regardless. Kept in the dark, literally, only his hastened breath and lingering thoughts tended to the man’s sanity.

  Though, it seemed that the journey started to fade away. Feeling something hard and flat around his bottom, something wrapped itself around his legs. Tightened to the limit, he judged it must have been rope. Quickly, the assailants moved up, firstly taking hold of his arms before bringing them behind his back and tying the wrists together.

  Then, finally, a sudden thrust against the bag started to graze his skin slightly, a dim source of light meeting with the man. ‘Where the hell am I?’ he asked himself whilst staring around the space.

  No longer were the hooded figures there. So, focusing through the dingy, cellar-like space filled with nothing but bricks and a single, flickering crystal on the ceiling, he glanced at the main two shadows ahead of him.

  Staring into him with their dead eyes, clear of most emotions, the two made his eyes widen. With his pale brown skin and chaotically undulating hairs, there was only one feature around him that varied from the memories. From Lutiel’s point of view, the right side of the taller man’s face was filled with dark scabs. Along the cheek, a hefty line was sewn together with a metallic line, a mended mark starting to form around the area.

  Looking at the scar, the slave immediately recalled the punch that ruptured the man’s cheek, only to glance on the left, where the stout, short man unveiled his face from the light hood. With a single, deep black horn glistening under the light, the merchant’s impassive face screamed to him.

  However, quickly, both of them fell into amusement, staring with a smile as the slave’s body started to shake with tremors. “Don’t hesitate, it will only put your body under greater stress,” the slave merchant spoke while caressing the moustache beneath his nostrils.

  “He must be wondering what’s this all about, make them release him. He can’t even speak and he’s roped anyways,” the leader of the revolutionaries spoke up, his cold and indifferent eyes beginning to change vaguely.

  Immediately, as a waft came from behind, Lutiel’s eagerness to move about lessened, coming to halt as he lowered his head and limbs. “What do you want?” He asked clearly, only near the end raising his head.

  Chuckling with the hearty voice of his, the merchant glanced to his left. “I guess he could mistake us for kidnappers, no?” The question sprawled out along the before once again turned to the human. “Don’t worry kid, we won’t be cutting away your balls or anything like that,” he said, making Lutiel’s eyebrows sour.

  Under the intensifying cackling, the man quickly glanced around the room, staring at the armored knights standing in the meek shadows behind the main duo. Then, he tried to move his head to the back, only to wane off as the restraining forces met his cheeks.

  “Don’t listen to him,” finally, the other Lutiel spoke up, the light leather armor around him in complete contrast to the images the slave remembered. “I know you’re confused about why we brought you here, but as he said, we won’t hurt.”

  “You still haven’t answered me,” Lutiel probed the dark-haired man, only for him to show a faint smile. However, instead of the human, the demon replied briskly.

  “Hey, human, why do you think he talks to me so casually when I was trying to sell him?” The demon merchant spoke up, this time, clear of laughter.

  Glancing with calm eyes at the solemn situation, he thought for a few breaths before finally parting his lips anew. “You must be working together.” And,the man’s eyes lightened up at his words, nodding faintly after crossing his arms.

  “That’s correct-” he started speaking, immediately cut off by the white-haired slave.

  “Why?”

  “Hmm? Well, I guess it could confuse you since I’m a demon,” the demon pondered, stroking his spilling chin. “And my question is, why not?”

  Furrowing his white eyebrows once again, Lutiel stared deeply at the man, though nothing else other than witnessing his glimmering teeth came from it. “How is it profitable?” He asked suddenly, recalling the words of his lady.

  “It’s not,” he said whilst shaking his head, further festering the slave’s confusion. “For now, at least. When we actually win over this city, the money will finally start to pour out, like nicking open a vein flowing with liquid gold.” He spoke with a tight grin around his face, the eyes already seeing much further into the future.

  “Why are you telling me all of this? Aren’t you afraid I will tell Lady Zyponia about you plotting with humans?” Lutiel asked, much to the surprise around their face.

  “I didn’t take you for a docile slave, you know?” The merchant spoke up before continuing. “But, don’t worry about it, you will remember nothing of this meeting if you choose the demons. Of course, we won’t hurt you if you do,” he made sure to add near the end, having the revolutionary staring at him coolly.

  “What do you mean?” Lutiel asked yet again, glancing between the duo. “Choose?”