Ren Solas was still asleep that morning, snuggled beneath his warm blanket, when his sister Wren quietly entered the room. She opened the door gently, careful not to make a sound, and walked to his bedside.
"Wake up, Ren. It's time for school," she whispered with a soft smile.
He didn't respond.
Sighing, Wren grabbed his shoulders and forcefully lifted him up, half-dragging him toward the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, Ren finally wandered into the dining room, rubbing his eyes. His father was already seated at the table, finishing breakfast, while his mother gently placed a plate in front of him.
She handed Ren a glass of milk and two slices of toasted bread, then lovingly patted his head. He smiled sleepily at her and began to eat.
After finishing his meal, Ren's father grabbed his work bag and left for the day. Ren returned to his room to change into his school uniform.
While packing his bag, he spotted a small emergency knife inside a drawer. With a mischievous grin, he slipped it into his backpack—along with a matchbox, a flashlight, a few candies, and some marbles.
As he stepped out of the house, Wren waved at him and said,
"I got my salary today! Come home straight after school—we'll go buy you some new toys."
Ren's eyes lit up. "Really?!"
Wren nodded, and he jumped with joy, racing off toward school, unaware that this would be the last time he'd ever hear his sister's voice.
During the Physical Education period, Ren was the last student left in the changing room. He had just packed up and was about to leave, when suddenly—
a voice echoed inside his head.
Whispers. Chants. Words in a language he didn't know. He froze. Panic surged in his chest.
"W-What is that…?" he whispered, eyes wide.
The whispers grew louder. His body began to glow. His fingers… started turning into light.
He screamed.
Ren bolted out of the room in terror, glowing brighter with every step. The hallway blurred around him, until with a final flash—
he vanished.
When the other students and teachers rushed toward the sound, they found… nothing. Just silence. Ren Solas was gone.
Ren opened his eyes slowly.
He was lying in a cold, dark alley. Stone walls rose high around him, and the sky above was a murky purple haze.
He sat up, confused and afraid. "Where… where am I?"
A hooded figure sat silently ahead of him, leaning against the wall—still, like a statue.
He walked closer. "Ma'am? Are you okay? What is this place?"
The figure didn't respond.
Ren reached out and gently shook her shoulder. She slumped forward—lifeless.
As her cloak fell back, a swarm of insects crawled from her body.
Ren screamed and ran. He didn't stop. He didn't look back.
He sprinted through the maze of alleys until he saw a light ahead—a wide street filled with life.
Carriages rolled past. Horses trotted. Humans, elves, dwarves, and beastfolk walked the cobblestone roads as if it was just another day.
He stepped forward in disbelief, only to be shoved to the ground by the crowd.
As Ren lay dazed, an old woman approached him.
"You look lost, child," she said kindly. "Where are your parents?"
Ren sat up, trembling. "I… I don't know where I am. I want to go home."
She smiled gently. "Come with me, dear. My home is nearby. We'll find someone who can help."
Desperate and afraid, Ren followed her.
She led him through narrow streets into a wooden shack that looked old and fragile. Inside, she offered him a warm meal and kind words.
"There's a friend of mine," she said. "He knows people… important people. He might be able to help you get home."
Ren's heart filled with hope. "Really?"
She nodded. "Come, we'll visit him now."
That evening, the old woman took him to a tavern hidden deep within the city. Inside, people danced, gambled, fought, and drank loudly.
She led him past the bar to a back room.
Inside was a tattooed man with a long scar across his face, sitting on a couch. A woman stood beside him—silent, watchful.
"This is the boy," the old woman said, sitting across from the man.
The man turned to the girl. "Inspect him."
The woman—Keva—grabbed Ren and checked his eyes, his mouth, even his arms. "Healthy," she said. "Good quality."
Ren looked at the old woman, confused. "Where are you going?"
She smiled coldly and picked up a pouch of coins from the man. "You've been sold, kid. They'll take good care of you now."
Ren panicked. "Wait! What do you mean—?!"
He turned to run, but Keva grabbed him by the neck and threw him against the wall.
Chains clinked. His wrists were bound.
The man stepped forward. "My name is Skarith. I'm a slave trader. This is Keva. She keeps the new stock in line."
Keva dragged him by the chains and threw him into a dark room, slamming the door behind her.
Ren screamed, cried, and begged for hours—
but no one answered.
And slowly…
he drifted into sleep, tears on his cheeks, thinking:
"This has to be a nightmare… it has to be."