The clinking of chains and the faint moans of the weary filled the cool night air as Kyle stood by the sve caravan, speaking with two soldiers. Lantern light cast long shadows across the ground, their flickering glow dancing on the faces of the chained captives.

  The first thing Kyle noticed as he surveyed the line of sves was the presence of a single female among all the males. It made him pause, his brows furrowing. ‘What is a woman doing here?’ he thought.

  Women were rarely seen in sve caravans like this. Typically, they were sold in the cities, used as sex sves. The practice was vile, but it was also lucrative. To see a woman left unsold and transported alongside men, destined for the borders, was unheard of. It didn’t make sense.

  Kyle’s gaze lingered on her for a moment. She looked no different from the others, dirt-streaked, her wrists raw from the iron shackles, her head bowed in weariness. But there was something about her presence that felt... wrong, out of pce.

  His attention shifted to the way the sves were being transported. Instead of being crammed into the usual wooden cages and carted away like livestock, these sves were chained together and forced to walk. The clinking of their chains echoed in the still air as their feet shuffled against the dirt path.

  Kyle approached the soldiers standing near the caravan. “Why aren’t they in cages?” he asked, keeping his voice steady.

  One of the soldiers, a wiry man with a crooked smile, gnced at him. “Cages?” he echoed. “Too few of ‘em this time, kid. Hauling out the big crates ain’t worth the effort. This way’s faster and cheaper.”

  The other soldier, a broader man with a thick beard, chimed in, his tone casual. “Makes ‘em more obedient, too. Long walk like this wears ‘em down. By the time we get to the border, they won’t have the strength to resist.”

  Kyle nodded, though his expression remained neutral. ‘Efficient,’ he thought bitterly, his stomach twisting at the casual cruelty of their words. He gnced back at the female sve again, unable to shake the feeling that her presence was significant.

  One soldier, a burly man with a crooked nose, crossed his arms and eyed Kyle skeptically. “What does a kid like you need a sve for?”

  Kyle adjusted his stance, keeping his tone even. “Herbs,” he said simply. “There are valuable ones deeper in the forest, but the Beasts are too dangerous. We need someone strong enough to fend them off while we gather what we need.”

  The other soldier, younger and with an almost zy demeanor, smirked. “Strong enough to fend off Beasts? These aren’t warriors, kid. Most of ‘em can barely stand.”

  Kyle gnced at the line of chained men, his gaze lingering on two figures at the end of the chain. “Not all of them,” he said, nodding subtly toward the pair.

  The burly soldier followed his gaze and let out a low chuckle. “Ah, the Shadow Sves. Don’t get any ideas, boy. They’re not for sale, not to you, anyway.”

  Kyle frowned but didn’t press. Instead, he motioned toward the rest of the group. “What about the others? What’s the price?”

  “For the regur ones?” The younger soldier scratched his stubbled chin, thinking. “Fifty rupees for a healthy one. Thirty if you don’t mind ‘em half-dead.”

  Kyle forced a smirk. “I’ll need one that’s not going to keel over after a day’s work.”

  “That’ll be fifty, then,” the burly soldier grunted. “Got that kind of money?”

  “Not yet,” Kyle admitted, his tone nonchant. “But next time the caravan comes through, I’ll have it ready.”

  The younger soldier ughed lightly. “We’ll see, kid. You’d better hope there’s a strong enough sve next time.”

  Kyle nodded and turned to leave, but his eyes darted back to the Shadow Sves at the end of the chain. They stood tall, their frames lean but solid, the faint light highlighting the sharp lines of their faces. Unlike the others, their expressions were utterly bnk, no fear, no misery, not even defiance. Just… nothing.

  He felt a chill run down his spine but quickly dismissed it, walking away without another word.

  After taking a few steps, a gruff, familiar voice caught his attention.

  “Alright, ds, what’s the price on one of these poor bastards?”

  Kyle gnced over his shoulder and spotted old man Barns, leaning heavily on his cane as he spoke with the soldiers near the sve caravan. His weathered face bore its usual stern lines, though his tone carried a strange mix of nonchance and curiosity.

  Kyle clicked his tongue and walked back home, his eyes clearly showed his disappointment in Barns.

  ***

  Kyle pushed open the door to his home, his boots thudding against the floor. He froze in the doorway.

  Rowan was standing near the table, threading his belt through the loops of his pants. His smirk was smug, radiating satisfaction, as if he had just conquered something he believed was his by right.

  Kyle’s gaze darted to his mother, sitting on the wooden chair near the hearth. Her face was flushed crimson, her skin glistening with sweat. Strands of her hair clung to her temples, and her breathing was shallow, almost bored. She looked up at him, then diverted her gaze away.

  "Well," Rowan drawled, breaking the heavy silence, "I'll be leaving now." He gnced over his shoulder at Kyle's mother, his smirk deepening. "Soon enough," he said to her, his voice low but dripping with insinuation. “I will consume you, soon enough.”

  He swaggered past Kyle, his boots echoing in the quiet house, the scent of his bodily fluids lingering in the air. He gave Kyle a mocking nod on his way out.

  Kyle stood rooted in pce, his hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened, and his chest burned with the fire of unspoken rage. Rowan was gone before Kyle could muster a word, leaving only an oppressive tension behind.

  "Mom..." Kyle finally said, his voice strained. But she didn’t respond, her eyes still locked on the ground, as if in a deep thought.

  Kyle leaned against the wall, his arms crossed tightly against his chest, staring at his mother with an expression that teetered between anger and helplessness. "So now will you tend to other soldiers as well?" he asked, his voice sharp.

  She shook her head. "No. They’re not going to stay for long; they’re already running behind schedule," she replied calmly, her tone devoid of emotion, as if she had resigned herself to these conversations.

  "Why do you do this?" Kyle snapped, the frustration in his voice cutting through the air like a bde. "I really don’t like what you have to go through."

  His mother finally looked up at him, her tired eyes meeting his. "Kyle," she said softly, "I know you don’t like him. I don’t either." She sighed, her voice carrying the weight of years of compromise. "But healers have to do this. No matter what the patient does, it’s my duty to relieve their pain."

  "Duty?" Kyle repeated bitterly, his fists tightening. "What kind of duty forces you to endure that?"

  "There are bastards like Rowan," she admitted, her voice cracking slightly, "but there are also men like Albert. The adventurer from this morning? He didn’t even try to touch me without my approval. Not every man is the same."

  "That doesn’t make it any better," Kyle muttered, his frustration unrelenting. "Why can’t you refuse someone like Rowan? Why do you have to degrade yourself for someone like him?"

  His mother’s face hardened slightly, though her exhaustion was evident. "Because, Kyle," she said, her tone firmer, "if I don’t, we pay the price. Rowan’s not just some random soldier, he’s a retainer of the Baron. If he feels slighted, we lose everything. Do you understand that? Everything. Beyond that, you are forgetting about the Healer’s Curse."

  Kyle looked away, his jaw clenched, the fire of his anger giving way to a smoldering resentment. He wanted to say something, to protest, but the words caught in his throat. His mother was right, and that truth stung worse than any insult.

  The silence between them lingered like a heavy cloud. Kyle stood there, his hands clenched at his sides, while his mother quietly walked past him, her exhaustion visible in her every step. She disappeared into her room without a word, the sound of the door clicking shut signaling the end of their conversation.

  Kyle sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the wooden floor, his thoughts churning with frustration and helplessness. Just then, a knock echoed through the house. He frowned and moved toward the door, wondering who it could be at this hour.

  When he opened it, Old Man Barns stood there, a crooked grin on his weathered face. Behind him, shackled and silent, was the lone female sve from the caravan. Her clothes were little more than rags, and her face was smudged with dirt, but her eyes, dull yet still burning faintly with defiance, met Kyle’s.

  "Evenin’, boy," Barns greeted, his voice gruff. "Figured I’d stop by since I got somethin’ to show you."

  Kyle’s eyes flicked from Barns to the girl. "You bought her?" he asked, his tone a mix of surprise and confusion.

  Barns nodded, his grin widening. "Aye, the soldiers gave me a decent deal on her. Thought I’d bring her here for your mother to take a look at. Figured she might need some attention after all she’s been through."

  Kyle’s brow furrowed as he stepped aside to let them in. The girl didn’t say a word, her expression unreadable as she followed Barns into the small house.

  "Mom," Kyle called, his voice ft. "Barns is here."