Chapter 2; Sold
1124 Words
Ariana pov
True to the maid’s word, I was chained and taken from the house a few months later.
When they dragged me through the front doors, I saw my father for the last time.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t try to speak to me .
He Just stood at the top of the stairs like a statue, watching them take me away.
I didn’t look at him long. I turned my face, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my pain.
He’d already taken everything else.
They shoved me into a cart filled with other girls…some younger, some older, all of them wide-eyed and silent. No one dared speak.
I tried to push the fear away, but it sat heavy in my chest like a stone.
We drove for hours, maybe longer. The road twisted into unfamiliar territory, through dead woods and abandoned border towns. The sky darkened the farther we went, until even the moon felt like it had turned its face from us.
Eventually, the cart stopped.
The doors creaked open.
And the smell of sweat, smoke, and blood hit me all at once.
The auction block.
We were ordered to bathe out in the cold
“Make yourselves presentable,” one of the guards barked. “You don’t sell looking like rats.”
The wind bit at my skin as I stripped down with the others.
A little girl beside me…couldn’t have been older than ten….was crying softly, her teeth chattering. She held her arms around herself, trying to hide from the eyes of the men watching her.
I reached out, gently draping my torn cloth over her shoulders. It was thin and threadbare, but it was something.
She looked up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. “I want to go home,” she whispered.
So did I.
But there was no home left to return to.
After bathing, they gave us clothes.
If you could call them that.
Thin, scratchy cloth wrapped around my chest and hips…just enough to hide what mattered, but not enough to shield my dignity.
The wind cut through the fabric like knives. My skin prickled with goosebumps, and I wrapped my arms around myself instinctively. The guards watched like wolves, their gazes lingering too long.
We were herded into a line,bare feet against cold stone, shoulders brushing as we stood like broken dolls on display.
“Keep your head up,” one of the handlers hissed in my ear. “No one buys damaged goods.”
Soon, the auction began.
One by one, the girls were dragged onto the stage, trembling and barely covered. Some whimpered. Some screamed. A few tried to run but didn’t get far. Their fates were sealed under the harsh glare of torchlight and the sharper eyes of men in cloaks and coin-lined pockets.
When they finally called my number, I didn’t move.
“Lot 47,” the auctioneer announced with theatrical flourish. “Name: Ariana.Twenty two . Mute, but sharp. Beta-born. Take a look at that face, gentlemen. That’s not common flesh.”
A hard yank on my chain dragged me forward. My bare feet scraped the rough wooden platform. I didn’t lift my head. I didn’t dare.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“Start the bid at one hundred gold pieces,” the auctioneer called.
A hand rose.
“One-fifty.”
“Two hundred,” barked another, impatient customer .
“Three hundred!”
The air turned thick. The auctioneer grinned wide, eyes glittering. “Oh, we have ourselves a jewel tonight! Look at those eyes, boys. Even silent, she speaks volumes.”
I clenched my fists. My stomach turned. The price of my life, my body, my name …being tossed around like a game of dice.
“Three-fifty!”
“Four hundred!” someone else snapped.
I closed my eyes. It didn’t matter who won. They would all be the same.
“Five hundred!” a voice called from the back—deep, controlled, unlike the others. Calm in a sea of fevered noise.
The crowd quieted. The auctioneer’s eyebrows shot up. “Do I hear five-fifty?”
Another raised a hand.
“Six hundred,” said the calm voice again.
The room stilled.
The auctioneer’s smile twitched. “Six hundred going once…”
“Six-fifty!” another voice tried, desperation tinged in it.
The calm voice didn’t hesitate. “Eight hundred.”
A hush fell over the stage. The bidding stopped.
“Eight hundred,” the auctioneer breathed, his grin now stretching like a snake’s. “Going once… going twice… sold!”
The gavel cracked wood.
The chain on my wrist was tugged again.
I didn’t look up. I didn’t care who had bought me.
Because no matter who it was, I knew I had just been sold to a cage all over again.
I was dragged to the back, with wrists bound and a cold iron collar snapped tight around my neck. I winced as the lock clicked shut.
“The buyer will come collect her after the auction is over,” one of the guards muttered before stepping out, the door creaking closed behind him.
I thought I would finally be left alone.
But I wasn’t.
The door reopened.
The slave trader stepped inside, shutting it behind him with a deliberate click.
I looked up from where I sat curled in the corner. My heart began to pound.
He stared at me for a long moment, then smiled. “Would be a shame to sell you off without tasting you first.”
He began to unbuckle his belt.
I shot to my feet, panic clawing its way up my throat. I looked around, frantic…but there was nowhere to run. There were no windows in this place.
I backed away, bumping into the far wall. My breath came in shallow gasps. I didn’t speak, but my eyes screamed.
He stepped forward, slow and sure. “Pretty little mute. I like ‘em quiet.”
Just then, the door burst open with a deafening crack.
The slave trader barely had time to turn before he was flung across the room like a ragdoll. He hit the stone wall with a sickening thud and crumpled to the floor, unmoving.
A cloaked figure stepped inside, his presence filling the room with a quiet fury. I couldn’t see his face, only the outline of broad shoulders and the glint of silver at his belt.
He moved toward me.
My breath caught in my throat. My body trembled, still pressed against the table, my torn clothes barely holding on to my frame.
But before I could make sense of anything…before I could even feel relief…the edges of my vision blurred.
Everything spun.
And then, I fell into darkness.
- Writer
