With every move, the merchant hurled a fireball toward Raven at incredible speed, driven by a primal instinct that knew only destruction. Despite the ferocity of the attack, Raven did not budge an inch. He stood like a rock against the storm. He raised his water blade steadily and began deflecting the blows one after another. As for me, I did not have the luxury of watching. I dashed toward the three children, who were huddled in a dark corner. When I got close, they shrank back.
I knelt down, reached my hand out gently, and said:
"I am not here to hurt you. I came to take you to a safe place."
They stared at me in silence until the smallest moved. A blond boy with blue eyes like the sky, who hesitantly reached out his hand to me. I quickly picked him up and held him close to my chest. Then I lifted the other onto my back while the third clung to my shirt with both hands. But before I could move, the merchant turned toward us and let out a feral roar before charging at me. There was no time to run. But then Raven moved, and with one strike of his water blade, the latter was thrown two meters back.
Raven stood between me and him, his back to me, his voice dry:
"What are you doing here?"
I replied sarcastically
"Didn't you say we were just gangsters, not fairytale heroes? So what are you doing here?"
He turned his head toward me, gave me a disdainful look, and said:
"I did not come to save this pile of vagrants."
A mocking smile formed on my face before I said:
"If you did not come for them, then why did you come?"
He glanced at me for a moment, then said:
"That is none of your business."
The merchant resumed his attack, launching a cluster of fire waves randomly. Raven did not move. He simply raised his sword again and unleashed a powerful water wave that clashed with the fire. As for me, I turned and ran as fast as I could.
"Where are we going?" the blond boy asked in a tired voice, his head resting on my shoulder.
"To freedom. To a place where there are no cages."
"What does freedom mean?"
"It means no one will ever put you in a cage again."
"Is there food?"
"Yes, food and sky and fresh air… almost."
Another child lifted his head from my back. His hair was black as coal and his eyes red like blood:
"Will I see my mother there?"
I pressed my lips together before saying:
"When we get out of here, I will help you find her."
Suddenly, a surprise wave of flame shot toward me. There was no time to think. My body leaned to the side quickly, and as soon as I dodged the attack, I exhaled hard, my eyes fixed on the wall behind me that had shattered completely.
I did not wait any longer. I kept running until I saw the exit. The moment I saw it, I did not think twice. I dashed without hesitation into the cold street, then ran until I reached a side alley. Once inside, I knelt down and set the children down one by one.
The blond boy kept holding on to my shirt without saying a word. The second boy sat silently, wrapping his arms around his knees. I sat down as well, my back to the cold wall, my eyes watching them in silence.
***
[Raven's POV]
I had been assigned a new mission, and unfortunately this time with the big idiot Jevan.
We were watching a man sitting behind a rickety table at the edge of the market, selling dried herbs that would not tempt even rats. His appearance alone was enough to convince you he was just an unlucky vendor teetering on the edge of bankruptcy.
But the information we got from the boss said otherwise. This merchant was protected by the Guardians.
And the Guardians? They were the strongest gang in the Lower District. They did not bother with trivialities. They did not protect herb merchants. They did not threaten a shop unless there was something behind it worth their time. Protection rackets? That was third-rate gang work. The kind of idiots who vanish within a week of showing up.
Days passed, and the merchant did nothing noteworthy. While I watched in silence, leaning against the wall, Jevan would not stop complaining. Not a single minute passed without him letting out a long sigh or whispering some stupid remark like "What a boring mission" or "I bet he really is just a dumb merchant." Sometimes I suspected he was annoying me on purpose.
On the sixth day, finally, something worth noticing happened. A strange man entered the market. His appearance screamed "I am not from here." His clothes were far too neat, his shoes too clean, his walk hesitant, like someone whose feet had never touched mud.
He approached the merchant, and they exchanged a brief conversation. Then the merchant nodded toward the back door and stood to lead him inside. I glanced at Jevan and signaled silently. Thankfully, he understood and said nothing.
We followed them into the storage room. What we saw there were rows of metal cages, each holding one or two children. I did not move. I did not say a word. I just stood there, watching.
Without warning, memories surged up from a dark, deep corner of my mind. A cage… muffled screams… dirty fingers yanking you by the wrist. But they did not last; I shoved them back down and slammed the door on them.
Jevan looked at me. He was waiting for a reaction. But there was only silence. Jevan was a big idiot, the kind who leaves his house in the morning thinking the world can be fixed with a smile and a kind word. How he survived in the Lower District with a mindset like that? only God knows.
I noticed he was about to make a move, so I quickly reached out and grabbed his arm hard.
This merchant was not just human trash walking on two legs and selling children. He was a dog of the Guardians. One wrong move, and this would turn into a never-ending chase.
In this place, morals and principles are just weights tied around your neck before you are thrown into the sea.
I had repeated that rule hundreds of times in my head. But even so, I could not ignore what I saw in those cages. Those little eyes. Those exhausted faces.
Some part of me wanted to do what Jevan was about to do. But I did not, because I am not like him.
...
Outside, after handing the information to the boss, while Jevan walked beside me, he turned and asked:
"Hasn't someone outlawed slavery in this cursed country?"
I lit a cigarette, exhaled slowly, then watched the smoke fade into the air before saying:
"It was outlawed in the Upper District, yes, and on paper in the Middle District. But here? In the Lower District?"
I paused for a moment, then added:
"The children you saw will be sent to forced labor in factories, or sold to farms in the countryside. Whoever pays more gets more."
But the truth? It was far worse than that. I did not tell him they might be turned into lab rats in underground facilities, or have their minds washed to serve the Guardians like obedient dogs. Half of them would not live two days, and the other half would wish they had not.
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. I knew he was stupid, his intelligence no higher than a monkey's, but I thought he at least had some sense of boundaries. Yet he nearly lost control and attacked the merchant. If I told him the truth, who knows what he would do? So I lied and simply walked away.
...
I walked alone through the dark streets, trying to push the children's voices out of my head, but to no avail. Every corner I passed dragged me back. Back to the memories I had tried to bury deep.
I was eight years old when my father sold me to a merchant. It was nothing unusual. In the Lower District, children are sold like worn-out shoes. For debt, for bread, or sometimes for nothing but the relief of getting rid of a burden. But I was not sent to a factory, nor was I tasked with carrying boxes or cleaning floors. I found myself among other children, aged between four and eight.
Long nights I spent watching the children die one after another. I was the only one who survived. I am still not sure if that was luck or punishment. I stopped walking, looked toward the distant horizon, then took a deep drag from the cigarette that had burned to its end without me realizing. Every time I thought I had forgotten, everything came back all at once. Now, after all these years, I stand in the same place where it all began.