SIGILBORNE: The World Beyond

Fifteen Gold

The next morning, neither Eiran nor Arthur spoke much over breakfast.

The food was decent, the room had been comfortable, and the horse was well rested. By every reasonable measure, it should have been a pleasant morning. Yet the image of the dark elf inside the cage had followed them into their sleep and waited for them when they awoke.

Eiran sat at the table, turning a piece of hard bread between his fingers. Across from him, Arthur stared into his cup as though the answer to something important might be found at the bottom.

"Do you think anyone bought her?" Arthur asked.

Eiran looked up. "We haven't even left the inn."

"That's not what I asked."

Eiran set the bread down.

"No. I don't know."

Arthur's jaw tightened. "I keep thinking about the way she looked at everyone. They were standing there, discussing her like she was some object, and she didn't even react."

"Maybe she learned that reacting only makes things worse."

Arthur said nothing.

Neither boy wanted to imagine what someone had to endure before they stopped expecting kindness from other people. They had grown up in a barony where slavery was forbidden, where their families had taught them that wealth and noble titles did not give anyone the right to own another person's life. They knew cruelty existed elsewhere, but knowing something and seeing it with their own eyes were two very different things.

Arthur slowly put his cup down.

"If I ever have the power to change this, I will."

Eiran watched him carefully. "Change what?"

"All of it. The slave trade, the cages, the people who think they can buy another person and do whatever they want with them." Arthur's fingers curled around the edge of the table. "I don't care how long it takes. One day, I'll help abolish slavery completely."

Eiran glanced toward the window. Outside, merchants were already opening their stalls, and the streets were filling with people beginning another ordinary day.

"One day," he repeated.

Arthur looked at him. "You think I'm being unrealistic?"

"I think it's going to be difficult. There are people who profit from slavery, and some of them probably have enough influence to make sure it continues."

"So?"

"So we'll need more than anger to change anything."

Arthur stared at him for a moment. Then his expression softened into a familiar grin, though the anger in his eyes hadn't entirely disappeared.

"Then it's a good thing I've got you to do the thinking."

"And apparently, you've decided I'll be doing all of it."

"Of course. You're the clever one."

Eiran shook his head, but he couldn't quite suppress a smile. "Fine. Then we'll do it together."

Arthur held out his hand across the table.

"One day."

Eiran clasped it firmly. "One day."

It was an ambitious promise for two young men who had barely begun their journey. Neither knew what it would take, how many enemies they might make, or whether they would ever possess enough influence to change anything beyond their immediate surroundings.

But they meant it.

After breakfast, they returned to their room, gathered their belongings, and prepared to leave. Arthur checked their bags while Eiran reviewed their remaining supplies. They had no reason to linger in the settlement, and both were eager to put the uncomfortable night behind them.

They were nearly finished when a familiar voice drifted in from the street.

"Come along, girl. Don't make me drag you."

Eiran stopped fastening his bag.

Arthur's hands went still.

They exchanged a glance before moving to the doorway. From there, they could see the main street below, where the slave trader was leading the dark elf through the crowd. She wore the same metal collar as the previous day, and a chain connected it to the hand of one of the men accompanying the trader.

The merchant was a broad man dressed in expensive-looking clothes. Two armed guards followed him, their weapons hanging at their sides. He appeared entirely comfortable as he moved through the street, greeting acquaintances and occasionally tugging the chain whenever the girl failed to keep pace.

Then his eyes settled on Eiran and Arthur.

His gaze lingered on their clothes and bags. A knowing smile spread across his face.

"Well, well. If it isn't my customers from yesterday."

"We're not your customers," Arthur replied.

"Not yesterday, perhaps." The trader's eyes moved between them. "But I have something you might find interesting."

He gave the chain a short tug, bringing the dark elf forward. She stumbled slightly before regaining her balance.

"This young lady has been giving me a little trouble, but nothing a bath and some decent clothes couldn't fix. She's still young, healthy, and capable of learning. There are plenty of things she can do around a household, and I'm told she's quite quick with her hands."

His smile widened.

"And she's remarkably obedient when she knows who's in charge. You'd be surprised how quickly a girl like her learns to please her master."

For a moment, the street seemed to grow quieter.

Arthur's expression changed first. His shoulders stiffened, and the hand resting at his side slowly curled into a fist.

Eiran felt something cold settle in his stomach.

The trader noticed their reactions and chuckled.

"What's the matter? Surely two young gentlemen like yourselves understand what makes a slave valuable. She's pretty, quiet, and young. A man could hardly ask for a better purchase."

"Shut your mouth," Arthur said.

The trader raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Arthur took a step forward, but Eiran caught his arm.

"Arthur."

"Did you hear what he just said?"

"I did."

"Then let go."

"Not here."

Arthur looked at him sharply. For an instant, Eiran thought his friend might pull free anyway. He could hardly blame him. The trader had spoken about the girl as though her suffering were a joke, as though the collar around her neck were nothing more than a convenient accessory.

Eiran wanted to hit him, too.

He wanted to wipe that smile off the man's face and make him understand, even for a moment, what it meant to be powerless before someone who considered himself superior.

But the guards were armed, and the girl was still wearing the collar. They had no idea how the trader would react if they tried to take her by force.

The merchant glanced at Eiran's hand gripping Arthur's arm and laughed again.

"Ah, I see. One of you has a temper, and the other knows how to keep it under control. That's good. A household needs a little discipline."

"She's not a thing you can sell!" Arthur snapped.

"Everything has a price."

"No. It doesn't."

The trader's smile thinned.

For a few seconds, the two stared at each other. Arthur's anger was plain on his face, but the merchant seemed to find it entertaining. He gave the chain another small tug, forcing the girl to step closer.

"Come now. You both look like you have money. Surely you can appreciate a good opportunity when you see one."

Eiran's fingers tightened around Arthur's arm.

"How much?" Arthur asked.

Eiran turned toward him. "Arthur."

"I'm asking how much."

The trader's smile returned at once. He had clearly expected this. He glanced at the dark elf, then back at the boys.

"As I said, she's young. Elves and dark elves mature much like humans through their early years, generally reaching adulthood around the same age. But once they pass their late twenties, their aging slows considerably, and they can live for hundreds of years. A healthy young dark elf is a valuable investment."

He lifted the chain slightly, displaying her as though she were a horse at market.

"Fifteen gold coins."

Eiran stared at him.

Fifteen gold coins. A price placed on a person's freedom, spoken with the same casual confidence as the cost of a fine horse.

Arthur didn't hesitate.

He reached into his bag, took out the pouch Cedric had given him, and counted fifteen gold coins into the trader's waiting hand.

The merchant examined the coins before slipping them into his pocket. His expression suggested he could hardly believe how easily the transaction had gone.

"A pleasure doing business with you."

"She's free now," Arthur said.

The trader laughed. "Of course. She's yours."

Arthur's head lifted.

"That's not what I said."

For the first time, the merchant's smile faltered. He studied Arthur for a moment, then shrugged.

"Whatever makes you feel better, boy."

He turned toward one of his guards.

"Open the cage. Give the boys the key."

The guard unlocked the cage's door and brought the dark elf outside. The trader took a small key from a ring at his belt and held it out to Arthur.

"Be careful with that collar. It's a rather clever piece of equipment. The metal contains a small Voltis-charged crystal, and the key has a trigger that activates it. Press the button, and the crystal sends a painful electric pulse through the collar. Very useful for keeping a difficult slave obedient."

He demonstrated by pressing the small button.

A sharp crackle sounded from the key.

The dark elf flinched before she could stop herself. Her hand moved instinctively toward the collar, and for the first time, something flickered across her otherwise vacant face.

Fear.

Arthur stared at the trader.

"Do that again," he said quietly, "and I'll break your fingers."

The merchant only chuckled.

Arthur moved behind the girl, studying the collar's fastening. He found the small lock, inserted the key, and turned it. The mechanism clicked. With a careful movement, he released the collar from her neck and let the chain fall into his hand.

He set both pieces of metal on the ground.

The dark elf stood motionless.

She stared at the collar, then at Arthur, as though she could not understand what had just happened. Her fingers slowly rose to her neck, touching the skin where the metal had rested.

Arthur stepped away to give her space.

"It's over," he said quietly. "You don't have to wear that anymore."

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Then the trader broke the silence with a mocking laugh.

"Well, aren't you two generous? Fifteen gold for a girl you barely know. I hope you enjoy her. Don't come complaining to me if she turns out to be more trouble than she's worth."

Arthur turned around.

"Enjoy her?"

The merchant spread his hands. "You paid for her, didn't you?"

"We paid to free her!"

"And now she's free to go wherever her new owners want her to go." The trader's grin sharpened. "Though I doubt she'll be in any hurry to leave. Girls like her tend to learn their place."

Arthur went completely still.

Eiran had seen his friend angry before. Arthur was quick to take offense when someone insulted him, and he had never been particularly good at ignoring a provocation. But this was different. There was no grin, no sharp comeback, no familiar spark of mischief in his eyes.

Only anger.

"Arthur," Eiran warned.

His friend didn't look at him.

The trader tilted his head, clearly enjoying himself. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

Arthur crossed the short distance between them and punched him squarely in the face.

The man's head snapped to the side. He stumbled backward, clutching his nose, his earlier amusement replaced by furious disbelief.

"You little bastard!"

Arthur struck him again.

This time, the guards moved.

One seized Arthur from behind while the other drove a fist into his stomach. Arthur doubled over, gasping, and another blow caught him across the face. He tried to fight back, but the guards were larger and better trained. They forced him to the ground, where their boots and fists continued to land.

"Arthur!"

Eiran rushed forward, but a guard stepped into his path.

"Get out of the way!" Eiran shouted.

"Your friend attacked a merchant!"

"And your men are beating him half to death!"

The guard shoved him back.

Eiran stumbled, caught himself, and stepped forward again. He wanted to force his way through, but the guard raised his weapon just enough to make the warning clear.

Behind him, Arthur cried out as another blow struck his ribs.

Eiran's heart lurched.

"STOP!!!"

Nobody listened.

Arthur tried to push himself up, only to be struck down again. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth, and one eye was already swelling.

Eiran's thoughts raced. He could not let them continue. He could draw his knife, but that would only turn an assault into a fight with armed guards. He could shout until his throat gave out, but they had already made it clear that they didn't care.

Then he remembered the crest he had kept hidden inside his traveling cloak.

He had made a decision before leaving home. He wanted to travel without relying on his family's name, to see the world without doors opening simply because he was the son of a baron. He hadn't wanted strangers treating him differently, offering him respect they would never offer another traveler.

He had wanted to be Eiran, nothing more.

But Arthur was on the ground, and every second he hesitated gave the guards another chance to hurt him.

To hell with hiding.

Eiran reached inside his cloak, pulled the Wycliffe crest from its concealed pocket, and held it high.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!!!"

The sharpness of his voice finally cut through the commotion.

The guards paused. Several bystanders turned. The trader, still clutching his bleeding nose, looked toward the crest.

Eiran stood straight, forcing himself to meet their eyes despite the anger burning in his chest.

"I am Eiran Wycliffe, son of Baron Cedric Wycliffe. You will stop this immediately!"

The name had an effect. One of the guards glanced at the crest, then at his companion. Their confidence faltered.

"Wycliffe?" the trader repeated.

"Yes!" Eiran snapped. "And if you continue assaulting my companion, I will make certain my father hears exactly what happened here!"

The guard holding Arthur released him. Arthur fell onto one knee, coughing, his hands braced against the ground.

For a moment, the trader looked as though he wanted to argue. Then he wiped the blood from his upper lip and forced a thin smile onto his face.

"An unfortunate misunderstanding, young lord. Your friend attacked me without provocation."

Eiran's stare hardened.

"Without provocation?"

The trader's smile twitched.

"You stood there mocking the girl you were selling. You deliberately humiliated her, then laughed when we told you she was free. And your guards kept beating my friend after he was already on the ground!"

His voice rose with every sentence. He no longer cared who in the street was listening.

"You want to talk about provocation? Look at what you've done!"

The merchant's expression hardened, but he made no further move.

Eiran lowered the crest only when he was certain the guards had backed away. Then he crouched beside Arthur and helped him stand. His friend leaned heavily against him, one hand pressed to his ribs.

"You absolute idiot," Eiran muttered, his voice shaking with leftover fury.

Arthur managed a weak, painful grin. "You're welcome."

Eiran stared at him in disbelief.

"Welcome?! You nearly got yourself killed!"

"He deserved it."

"Yes, he did! That doesn't mean you have to let his guards use you as a punching bag!"

Arthur winced as he shifted his weight. "You done?"

"No! I'm not done!" Eiran tightened his hold on Arthur's arm. "You could barely stand, you idiot! What if they'd broken your ribs? What if they'd kept going?!"

Arthur's grin faded.

For a moment, neither said anything.

Then Arthur looked at the trader, who was still watching them from a distance, and his expression hardened again.

"I heard what he said about her."

"I know."

"I couldn't just stand there."

Eiran swallowed the rest of his anger. He understood. That was the worst part. He had wanted to hit the trader himself, and if Arthur hadn't acted first, he wasn't sure how long he could have held back.

"I know," he repeated, quieter this time. "But next time, give me a chance to think before you start a fight with half the street."

Arthur gave a faint, pained laugh. "I'll try."

"You'd better."

Eiran looked him over as best he could. Arthur was bruised, his lip was split, and he was clearly in pain, but he could stand and breathe without obvious difficulty. Eiran would need to check him more carefully once they were away from the crowd.

He turned toward the dark elf.

She had not moved from where the guard had released her. Her eyes shifted between the discarded collar, Arthur's battered face, and the crest Eiran had just revealed.

She looked stunned.

Eiran slipped the crest back into his cloak. The secret was out now, and he couldn't undo it. He had wanted to travel without using his family's status, but protecting Arthur had mattered more.

He approached the girl slowly, careful not to crowd her.

"You don't have to come with us," he told her. "You can go wherever you want. We won't stop you."

She said nothing.

"We have a cart and supplies. If you need somewhere safe to go, you can travel with us for now. But you don't owe us anything. Not your work, not your obedience, and certainly not your life."

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.

Eiran waited. When she remained silent, he gave her a small nod and turned back toward Arthur.

"Let's go."

They collected their belongings and returned to the cart. Arthur climbed into the back with a grimace, while Eiran took the reins. The dark elf hesitated before following them, still seeming uncertain whether she was truly allowed to leave.

Eiran held out a hand to help her climb aboard.

She stared at it for a moment before accepting.

As the cart began to move, she sat near the back, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her gaze kept returning to Arthur's bruised face. He noticed her watching and attempted a reassuring smile, though the movement clearly hurt his split lip.

She quickly looked away.

Neither Eiran nor Arthur pressed her to speak.

They left the settlement behind them and continued along the road. The morning passed into afternoon, and the sun slowly descended toward the horizon. They stopped only when necessary, giving Arthur time to rest and checking that their new companion had enough water and food.

By evening, they reached a river that ran through a stretch of woodland. Its banks were broad enough to make a comfortable campsite, and the water flowed clear over smooth stones beneath the fading light.

Eiran decided they would stop there for the night.

Arthur climbed down from the cart more carefully than usual. His face had swollen, and the bruises across his ribs made every movement uncomfortable, but he insisted he could manage. Eiran helped him settle beside the river before unpacking their supplies.

The dark elf remained near the cart, watching them in silence.

"We're going to make something to eat," Eiran told her. "There's water here, and you can rest wherever you're comfortable."

She gave no response.

Eiran did not insist. He gathered their cooking utensils and began preparing dinner, while Arthur sorted through their food with one hand pressed against his side. Their meal was simple, made from hard bread, cured meat, wild vegetables, and a few mushrooms Eiran recognized as safe to eat.

The smell of the cooking food gradually filled their small campsite.

Arthur sat beside the fire, wincing as he shifted his weight.

"Does it hurt?" Eiran asked.

"No. I'm making this face because I enjoy looking miserable."

"Then you're doing an excellent job."

Arthur huffed a laugh, immediately regretting it when the movement pulled at his bruised ribs.

Eiran shook his head. "You need to be more careful."

"I know."

"You could have been seriously injured."

"I know."

"You could have let me handle it."

Arthur looked toward the river. "And let him keep treating her like that?"

Eiran fell silent.

After a moment, he sighed. "No. I wouldn't have let him keep doing it either."

Arthur glanced at him, his expression softening.

They had paid fifteen gold coins to free a stranger. Arthur had then thrown himself into a fight against two guards, and Eiran had been forced to reveal his noble identity to stop them. Their first days of travel had become far more complicated than either had anticipated.

Yet neither regretted the decision to free her.

Eiran took a spare set of Arthur's clothes from the cart, along with a small bar of soap and a clean towel. He approached the dark elf, who had settled a short distance from the fire.

"These are Arthur's spare clothes. They're probably a little large, but they'll be more comfortable than what you're wearing now. There's soap and a towel, too. You can wash by the river if you'd like. We'll stay here and give you privacy."

She looked at the bundle in his hands.

"There's no rush," Eiran added. "Take as much time as you need."

After a long pause, she accepted the clothes and soap.

She walked toward the river without saying a word, disappearing behind a cluster of trees where the bank curved out of sight.

Arthur watched her go, then lowered himself onto a folded blanket with a quiet groan.

Eiran sat beside him and handed him a cup of water.

"How are you feeling, really?"

"Like I got punched by two angry bears."

"Can you breathe normally?"

"Yes. It hurts when I move, but I don't think anything's broken."

"Tell me if that changes. We may need to find someone who can examine you."

Arthur took a drink. "You sound like my mother."

"Someone has to."

For a while, they sat listening to the river. The fire burned steadily beside them, and the last traces of daylight faded between the trees.

"What do you think she'll do?" Arthur asked eventually.

Eiran glanced toward the riverbank. "What do you mean?"

"After tonight. She could leave while we're asleep. She could go back to the settlement. She might not want anything to do with us."

"Then she'll leave."

Arthur looked at him. "Just like that?"

"What did you expect? We bought her freedom. We didn't buy the right to decide what she does with it."

Arthur considered that, then nodded slowly.

"I hope she stays until she can find somewhere safe."

"So do I. But that has to be her choice."

Neither of them knew what the dark elf had endured before they met her. They didn't know whether she had family, friends, or somewhere she could call home. They didn't even know her name.

All they knew was that she had been treated as property, and that she had spent at least one night believing she would remain a slave.

Whatever happened next, they had no intention of making her feel indebted to them.

A faint rustle came from the trees.

Both boys turned.

The dark elf emerged from behind the riverbank, carrying her discarded clothes in one hand. Her silver-gray hair was damp, falling in soft strands around her face. She had washed the dirt from her skin and changed into Arthur's spare shirt and trousers. The clothes were slightly too large, and she had rolled the sleeves back to keep them from covering her hands.

Without the grime, the bruised exhaustion of the previous day, and the collar around her neck, she looked different. Her features were delicate, her skin pale beneath the evening light, and her eyes, though still guarded, seemed clearer now that she was no longer surrounded by the crowd.

She was beautiful.

Arthur forgot what he had been about to say.

For a moment, he simply stared. Then he quickly looked down at the cup in his hands, suddenly fascinated by the water inside it.

Eiran noticed.

He decided not to comment.

The girl approached the fire but stopped a short distance away, uncertain whether she was welcome to sit with them.

"Come sit," Eiran said gently. "There's enough food for all of us."

She lowered herself onto the ground across from them, leaving a careful distance between their knees and hers. Her hands rested in her lap, and her gaze moved from one boy to the other.

Arthur cleared his throat. "I'm Arthur. That's Eiran."

Eiran gave a small nod. "It's nice to meet you, though I wish we'd met under better circumstances."

The girl lowered her eyes.

"You're safe here," Arthur said. His voice was quieter than usual. "No one is going to put that collar back on you. And you don't have to stay with us if you don't want to."

She looked at him, then at the empty space around her neck.

"Why?" she whispered.

It was the first word either of them had heard her speak.

Arthur blinked. "Why what?"

"Why did you free me?"

The question was so quiet that the river nearly swallowed it.

Eiran leaned forward slightly. "Because no one should own another person. You don't have to earn your freedom, and you don't owe us anything for helping you."

The girl stared at him as though she were trying to decide whether he meant it.

Arthur nodded. "He's right. We didn't buy you to make you serve us. We only wanted to get you out of that cage."

She remained silent for several seconds. Then, with a visible effort, she spoke again.

"My name is Seren."

"Seren," Eiran repeated, giving the name time to settle between them. "That's a lovely name."

A faint uncertainty crossed her face, as if she did not know what to do with the compliment.

Arthur quickly reached for the cooking pot. "You must be hungry. We made enough for three."

Eiran hid a smile and handed Seren a bowl. She accepted it with both hands, studying the simple meal before taking a small bite. She ate slowly at first, as though she expected someone to take the food away, but neither boy said anything about it.

When she had eaten a little, Eiran asked, "Seren, do you have somewhere you want to go?"

She looked down at the bowl in her hands.

"I had a home once."

Arthur's expression softened.

Seren gazed into the fire, and for the first time that evening, the guarded look in her eyes gave way to something more distant. Something that belonged to a time before the collar, before the cage, before the road had brought her into their lives.

"I had a family," she whispered. "My parents loved me, and I was happy. I thought we would always be together. I thought that, as long as I had them, nothing in the world could ever truly hurt me."

Her fingers tightened around the bowl.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

The fire crackled between them. Arthur didn't interrupt, and Eiran waited, giving her the time she needed.

Seren slowly lifted her gaze.

"But that was before everything changed."