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The night was cold.
Not a gentle or fleeting cold,but the kind that seeps beneath the skin and doesn't leave, that clings to the body even when one stops moving. Hitaru's unconscious body trembled uncontrollably, shaken by involuntary spasms that failed to give him warmth.
He was tied up.
His hands forced behind his back,his arms tense to the point of aching even while asleep. A thick rope bound him to a wooden stake driven into damp earth. The wood was cold, rough, and the moisture from the ground seeped through his clothes, soaking them little by little.
The cold traveled across his skin without finding resistance.
It didn't stay on the surface.It advanced slowly, steadily, until it settled in his bones, making each breath heavier than the last, even without him being conscious of it.
He woke when a bucket of ice-cold water fell over his body.
The impact knocked the air out of him. His chest constricted and, when he tried to inhale, the sack covering his head only returned darkness, dampness, and an unpleasant smell. He coughed, but the sound was trapped under the cloth.
He heard movements around him.
Footsteps on mud.Metal clashing. Foreign breaths.
He was not alone.
Am I still alive?
He tried to move.
His body didn't respond well.His muscles were stiff, clumsy, as if they didn't fully belong to him. He wanted to sit up, but the movement was disordered. He twisted without knowing quite how he was positioned, pulling at the ropes without success.
When he finally managed to sit up, someone yanked the sack off with force.
The cloth slid from his head and the moonlight hit him full in the face, forcing him to close his eyes for an instant. He blinked several times until he could focus.
"Who are you...? What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice hoarse and disoriented.
He didn't receive an answer he could understand.
Only rough sounds. Guttural. Short, hard words, spoken in a language he didn't recognize.
In front of him was a goblin.
Dark gray, sickly skin.
Small,bright eyes.
Gold earrings dangling from its ears.
A ring piercing its nose.
It was the same as the others.
Hitaru went rigid.
Fear rose from his stomach to his throat,tightening his chest. The goblin noticed his reaction and walked away unhurriedly, laughing under its breath, as it pulled the sack off another person further ahead.
Now he could see clearly.
He was tied to a post.
And he was not the only one.
There were between twenty and thirty more people, lined up in the clearing.
Men.Women. Children. Old people.
Twelve were women.
Each stake had a goblin in front of it armed with a spear or bow. None of them spoke his language. Only grunts, short orders, and constant gazes that didn't stray from them.
The ground was wet, almost muddy.
The wind brought a heavy smell:manure, sweat, and metal. Breathing was hard. Thinking, too.
This looks like some kind of ritual…
He didn't know why he was there.
He didn't know how much time had passed.
He only felt fear.
From the back of the camp, a different figure appeared.
It walked slowly, confidently. In its wake, the noise diminished. It was a goblin bigger than the others. Much bigger. Hitaru compared it to himself. He was around one seventy-five. The creature maybe one sixty, but its body was broad, heavy, dominant.
A black horn protruded from its left collarbone.
There was no doubt.
The leader.
The atmosphere changed.
The other goblins tensed.When it reached the center of the clearing, it raised its hands and spoke.
This time, Hitaru understood.
"My brothers and sisters. Today we gather, once again, to witness the hunting and classification of these new human pets."
The crowd responded with shouts. Some celebrated. Others mocked.
The goblin in front of Hitaru shouted something and pointed at the women. Its tone was anxious.
Hitaru swallowed.
Are they going to play with us?
With them?
Why did I come here…?
He lowered his head and moved slowly from side to side, as if rocking could make him disappear. He regretted it. Having consumed that thing the day before. Having kept walking. Not having stopped sooner.
A cold, calloused hand rested on his right shoulder.
He started and turned his head.
It was a human.
His size.
He was not tied up.
He was looking forward, serious.
"Calm down," he whispered. "They won't do anything to you by hand."
Hitaru blinked.
"How do you know…?"
"Don't look at me. We don't want to draw attention."
Hitaru obeyed.
"Alright… but tell me what's happening here," he pleaded. "And why aren't you tied up?"
"I'm a pet. Of my owner. That's all."
A scream interrupted them.
Two stakes to the left, a man was writhing. The leader stopped. The goblins too. The guard in front of the man raised its spear and brought it slowly to his wounded thigh.
It stabbed it.
The scream cut through the clearing. The spear came out and went back in. Again and again.
Hitaru felt nauseous.He wanted to scream. Say something. Plead.
The stranger's hand gripped his arm and shook his head.
Hitaru closed his eyes.
Silence fell suddenly.
When he opened them, the man was dead. A spear went through his mouth, nailed to the stake.
Hitaru vomited.
Bile.Remains.
Others did too.
Some didn't.
The stranger gave him a few pats on the back.
The leader spoke again.
"After this small inconvenience… let us continue."
Hitaru was breathing poorly.
"They… they won't do that to me?"
"If you don't do anything stupid, no."
The speech continued.
"Present your prey. Tell me what you will do with them."
One by one, the goblins stepped forward.
When it was the turn of the one in front of Hitaru, it spoke with enthusiasm.
"Four this week, my general. One will fight. Another will be a slave. The other two… as well."
The crowd murmured.
"Show me your gladiator, Arendt."
"Yes, my lord."
Arendt turned and pointed at Hitaru.
Hitaru's heart raced. He looked for the stranger. He was pale.
"He's injured, my Slork. His arm…"
Arendt pushed him.
"Do you question my decision?"
The human fell to the ground.
Hitaru, on his knees, felt something break inside him. He shifted his gaze.
Then he saw her.
A girl.
He didn't know why, but her gaze stopped him. He looked away. He couldn't hold it.
Arendt walked behind Hitaru.
At Arendt's side was the rest of the loot.
An unconscious man.
Two women chained to an enormous creature.
It was dark blue. Almost black. Its body reminded him of an insect. Long, translucent wings. Rigid antennae.
Too big.
Hitaru felt something inside him shatter. Tears fell uncontrollably.
This isn't real.
Arendt turned around.
The guards began to move.
The women were taken aside.
Hitaru didn't look.
But he listened.
He lowered his head. He didn't want to imagine. He didn't want to hear or see what they were going to do to them.
I am not them.
The thought didn't calm him.
"Do you want to do something for them?" whispered the voice beside him. "You will have to fight. If you shout 'Challenge for woman', you can save one."
Hitaru lifted his head.
He saw the eyes of one of them.The contained fear.
Something ignited.
Not courage.
Not heroism.
Rage.
Desperation.
"Challenge for woman!"
The camp fell silent.
Arendt turned slowly. Smiled. Walked up to Hitaru.
"I accept. But if you lose… you will watch. And then you will die."
He untied him.
Hitaru fell to the ground, trembling.
If I'm going to die… let it at least mean something.
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