“Come on, you faggots! Get the fuck out of your holes-!”

  a brutal shout jolted Edur out of his nap.

  Peeking his head out, he could see the Prideful Sin dipping below the horizon behind him, casting long shadows across the road.

  The wagons were coming to a halt, one by one.

  Rough wooden reargates creaked open. Traders cmbered inside, swords in hand, and yanked prisoners to their feet. Chains clinked as chained were loosened from the iron rings anchoring them to the floor, allowing them to exitthe carts.

  The ground, although very cold, was devoid of snow, sparing them the task of shoveling.

  They were dragged out in groups, shoved to the side of the road where cold, snowless earth greeted them. Nearby, a small ke glistened beneath the sinking sun. Under the ever-watchful eyes of armed guards, prisoners were ordered to strip and clean themselves.

  Meanwhile, some were constructing enclosures to confine most of the sves—temporary cages, just enough to keep the majority penned in for the night. Edur noticed the numbers now: around fifty sves, guarded by a dozen or so traders and mercenaries.

  He didn’t move.

  Edur didn’t really feel like bathing while being stared at, so he didn’t take a bath and stayed by the fire, chains still wrapped around a thick wooden post. Soon, Magil, the older man, and the muscur woman from his wagon sat with him, simirly bound but much cleaner than they were.

  Silence hung heavy between them, broken only by the occasional cough or grunt.

  It was a far cry from the warmth and ughter he remembered sharing with Vannie by the fire

  Instead, sweat and ruthlessness were his companions for tonight, accompanied by a few stares from sves of other wagons.

  His eyes wandered skyward, searching instinctively for comfort.

  Edur hoped to find the moon somewhere above- not the intrusive, oppressive one, but the one he grew accustomed to.

  And there it was, distant, silent, shining, indifferent as always…

  Wait, no. Since the dream, it grew a little brighter. Just a bit, barely noticeable.

  Will it grow brighter with every weird dream of his?

  He was impatient to meet Grail again, he promised to visit him in his next dream.

  Suddenly, someone sat beside him.

  It was the half-elf, which made a few around them shift further away, apart from the usual quintet.

  Clean now, his skin revealed old wounds more clearly—long sshes, criss crossing his arms and neck. His hair, which was once dull and dirty, had now the sheen of golden wheat on a summer day.

  “Why are people afraid of you?” Edur asked, noticing the small bubble of space forming around the duo despite the cramped space all the sves were forced into, with a few fires there and there.

  “Are you seriously asking? Or do you live under a rock?” the boy replied, eyes fixed on the fmes.

  Edur chuckled dryly. “You could say the second one. I really don’t know much about the world. I grew up in a secluded vilge.”

  Technically, his statement was mostly truthful.

  The boy finally looked at him. His pale blue eyes met Edur’s crimson ones—a strange and bright color.

  “You know about the war, right?”

  “Yes, although I don’t know who it’s between exactly.”

  “The whole world!” said the boy simply .

  “What do you mean?”

  The boy dramatically sighed like an old man, looking around zily as if trying to find something better to do than expin common sense to the weird buffoon next to him.

  “Alright. There’s five major races in Pactara: The elves, humans, dwarves, Therios and Elentiri.”

  Surprisingly, he was considerate enough to expin it to Edur, even though this should’ve been some basic knowledge even kids learned about early on. The boy seemed even pleased to share this- Edur could almost see the sparkle in his eyes, excited to talk to someone that didn’t treat him like a walking infection.

  “Humans have been at war with the elves for what? a year and a half?” he continued, tilting his head to the side as he tried to remember the exact length. “Oh, and the other races, although they say they’re neutral, they support the elves in secret.”

  “What was the reason for war?”

  “I don’t know. Something about ‘human foolishness.’ That’s what mom and Dad told me. Said I’d understand when I got older.”

  Something in his tone led Edur to believe that something bad happened to his parent, so he didn’t pry.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Thalion,” said the boy, softer now. His voice was still low in order not to cause a shing around him. his cold shell slowly peeling off as they spoke more and more.

  Edur nodded. “I’m Edur. Nice to meet you… though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  He offered his hand.

  Thalion looked at it, hesitated—then took it. His hand was small, calloused, bruised.

  “Thanks, by the way.”

  Edur tilted his head. “Thanks for what?”

  “For the bread. And…” Thalion rotated his wrists slightly, making the chains clink.

  So, he had noticed. Edur smiled.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  He hesitated. “By the way… why isn’t our wagon as crowded as the others? I saw ten people come out of the third one.”

  Thalion leaned in a little, lowering his voice.

  “It’s because we’re Blessed.”

  Edur blinked.

  “...Huh?”