Upon leaving the canteen, I came across a terrifying scene. The slave was hanging upside down between two posts, immobilized, vulnerable, while a man knelt beside her, handling a blade close to her neck.

  “What’s happening there?” I asked, feeling my heart race, a mix of fear and indignation.

  “She’s about to be slaughtered. The meat is tough, but it’s worth the effort,” Faro replied with disdain.

  The shock paralyzed me for a moment. My gaze fixed on the scene of imminent violence, and without realizing it, I stepped forward.

  “Wait!” I shouted, touching the man’s shoulder.

  He recoiled slightly, without releasing the victim, and removed the covering from his head, staring at me with curiosity and irritation.

  “So? Are you just going to stand there?” he provoked.

  “I want her!” I declared, feeling my breath falter, my face burning with anger and adrenaline.

  “Whole? That’ll be expensive,” he retorted, evaluating me as if I were just another buyer.

  Rage threatened to consume me, but I remembered the serenity the Sekvens had taught me, the silent strength of Melissa. A control that, in that moment, kept me steady.

  “Will five kilos of salt be enough to cover your profit?” I asked, unsure whether the value would be acceptable.

  “I accept,” he said, turning back to the girl.

  The relief was brief. The man still threatened her, bringing the blade closer to her neck, and only my direct intervention prevented tragedy.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted, feeling the bitterness of anger fill my chest.

  “Preparing the meat for you,” he replied, irritated.

  “No! I want her alive!”

  “She’s no good anymore.” The man repeated Faro’s words, treating her as if she were nothing more than an object. “She’s sick, she can’t walk and she can’t hear. Soon the men will go out to hunt more slaves and their prices will drop. Better to wait.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I retorted.

  Faro was approaching, and the wind carried a mixture of heat and tension across the square, mirroring every pulse of fury and fear within me.

  “Then go get the salt,” he said.

  “AX, please.”

  Both the butcher and Faro looked at me strangely for speaking to myself, but I didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t leaving; I was certain that if I stepped away, she would be killed.

  We had planned only to observe, and on the very first day I intervened, saving someone’s life. My first impression of humans on Donna was dark, and my gaze returned to the young woman, realizing I could expect nothing different from such a brutal world.

  I crouched down, focusing on her face, avoiding touching her or exposing her vulnerability any further. A sudden sting at the nape of my neck and a tightening in my chest reminded me of the gravity of the situation — it is unacceptable for any living being to be subjected to such pain and helplessness.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Her eyes had a reddish-pink tone, dull. Her body trembled, marked by pain and extreme exhaustion, covered in a dark, pasty substance that emitted a strong odor. Parts of her ears had been cut, and her hair had been shaved. Even so, it was clear she had once been a beautiful young woman; her vitality and joy had been stripped away. Comparing her to the Sekvens was inevitable, but she lacked that glow, that certainty of a future.

  “I’ll take care of you,” I whispered, touching her face gently, trying to offer some comfort.

  In the background, the air moved forcefully, dragging dry leaves and carrying the murmurs of Faro and the butcher, who argued, oblivious to what truly mattered.

  “Aren’t you going to fetch the salt?” the man asked, impatient.

  I stood up, feeling a weight in my abdomen that made me brace myself with my hands. AX, without becoming visible, handed me the box containing hundreds of small salt squares without anyone noticing.

  “Here’s your salt.” I handed it to the man without a word.

  “But… how? You didn’t have this!” he exclaimed.

  I didn’t answer. I turned back to the young woman, whose feet were now purple and marked by the pressure of the ropes. The knots, though firm, were simple to undo. Without asking for help and without risking hurting her further, I held her body carefully, supporting her securely. With my free hand, I pulled one of the ropes, slowly freeing her leg, then repeated the process with the other.

  Every movement required care, and I carried her gently, protecting her from further injury. Faro watched me, speechless, as if I were insane.

  “You’re all crazy,” I accused, letting a bit of the anger still running through my veins slip out.

  “You’re the crazy one!” Faro shouted, his voice loaded with disbelief.

  From his point of view, perhaps it made sense. I couldn’t accuse them of cannibalism — the young woman was of another species — but nothing justified treating a sentient being like hanging meat. There was no forgiveness for that.

  “Can’t I have a slave?” I asked, gritting my teeth, trying to find some justification that might prevent our mission from collapsing right then. Even thinking of calling her a slave made my muscles tense. It went against everything I’d learned, everything I had become.

  “Do you want to die?” Faro countered. “You almost touched her. The secretions and the blood are poisonous. If you touch them, your mouth will swell for days… that is, if you don’t die before that.”

  The revelation hit me like an unexpected blow. In Donna, everything seemed poisonous. But it explained why she had a normal weight, while humans were noticeably thinner. The Seliums, adapted to the planet, had immunity that placed them above in the food chain.

  “I didn’t know,” I muttered. “I already told you I’m not from here.”

  “You must not be. Let that go.”

  The way they referred to her irritated me deeply. She wasn’t “that.” She was someone. Someone whom, at that moment, only I seemed willing to see. I slid my arm beneath her legs and lifted her carefully. Her body felt heavy from weakness, but I didn’t hesitate. I knew I wasn’t in real danger — at most, I would feel pain until the Xerantos healed me.

  “She’s bleeding, and you’re unprotected,” the butcher warned.

  “So be it,” I replied, noticing other people approaching. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Faro made a strange gesture toward the curious onlookers, and they immediately stopped. Only later did I learn it was a sign to indicate madness. He followed me out of the city, probably trying to decipher what kind of fool I was.

  The brutality of that society was natural to him; to me, inconceivable. A sentient being subjected to violence, disrespect, without any chance of defense — and still, there was hope, however faint, inside the young woman I carried.

  The path out of the city was tense. The girl in my arms, trembling, each step a reminder of life’s fragility and the world’s cruelty. The hot wind spread odors and dust, but nothing pulled my attention from her.

  “What is this goo they put on her?” I complained, feeling the substance stuck to my skin. “This sticks.”

  “It’s to contain the blood in case she was opened,” Faro explained.

  I took a deep breath. Why did I keep imagining, over and over, the atrocity they would have committed against her? With each thought, my stomach twisted.

  I adjusted her better in my arms. She had lost consciousness; each step grew harder. Her weight wasn’t the problem — it was the fragility of her body and my own growing exhaustion. I quickened my pace, alert for any sign of life. Nothing.

  My strength was fading, and I knew I couldn’t count on the vulture that followed us from afar, always watchful but useless at that moment.

  “Are you really going to face those bandits, Faro?” I asked without stopping. “If I were you, I’d turn back.”

  “And you?” he shot back.

  “I’m not you.”

  I moved on without looking back. A few steps later, I heard his footsteps stop. When I finally lifted my gaze, I noticed Faro standing at the city gate, torn between curiosity and fear. Prudence won — and I continued alone, carrying in my arms the life he would have let die.