"Leave the chains."
The trader’s hand stopped.
For a brief moment, neither of them moved.
Then the man slowly let go of the lock.
The keys slipped back onto his belt.
He stood.
"You said you will give me every loaf of bread you have."
The trader nodded once.
"Right. Of course,"
His tone carried no hesitation.
He reached inside the heavy coat wrapped around his body and began pulling out pieces of hard bread one after another. Two from an inner pocket. Another tucked into a leather satchel hanging from his belt. One more wrapped in cloth beneath his cloak.
He had been keeping extra rations for himself.
Without question, he placed every loaf into Eldrin’s hands.
"There."
Eldrin stared at the small pile.
The trader remained waiting.
As though he had simply completed an ordinary request.
No one else noticed.
The other slaves slept through it.
The remaining traders were too far away.
Eldrin took one loaf, and eat.
The endless snow.
The dark sea.
The guards.
"We wouldn’t make it," he murmured.
Eldrin watched the trader tuck the empty cloth pouch back beneath his coat.
The man gave a small, absent nod, as though confirming a task completed.
Then he turned and resumed his patrol.
No hesitation.
No vacant stare.
No sign that anything unusual had happened.
...That’s it?
The trader hadn’t looked confused.
He hadn’t fought the command.
He hadn’t even questioned why the extra rations he’d been hiding beneath his coat were suddenly gone.
To him...
Sharing the bread had simply been the right thing to do.
The trader had accepted another thought as his own.
As though the decision had begun inside himself.
Eldrin lowered his gaze to the bread in his hands.
His fingers tightened around the rough crust.
...
What... did I just do?
....
Far from the frozen coast...
[KINGDOM OF ELDIA]
Warm sunlight poured through stained-glass windows into a hall.
A man knelt before the throne, his armour still stained with dried blood.
"The House of Novaryn has fallen, Your Majesty."
The king rested his chin against one hand.
"Good."
His voice was calm.
"The treaty stands."
The general remained kneeling.
"There is... one matter, sire."
The king’s eyes lifted.
"What matter?"
The general swallowed.
"The youngest son..."
"...escaped."
The throne room fell silent.
Then....
The general’s feet left the ground.
An unseen force seized him by the throat and hurled him across the marble floor until he hung suspended before the throne.
His hands clawed uselessly at empty air.
The king rose.
His expression never changed.
"Do you understand what you have done?"
The pressure around the general’s neck tightened.
"For two kingdoms to agree on peace..."
"...one bloodline had to disappear."
His voice remained low.
Controlled.
"If word spreads that a single Kingsbane still breathes..."
"...everything we buried with that treaty will rise again."
The general’s face had turned crimson.
The king released him.
He crashed onto the marble, coughing violently.
"You have one week."
The king stepped down from the throne.
His shadow fell over the trembling man.
"Find him."
"Bring me his head."
He leaned closer.
"And tell no one."
"No ministers."
"No nobles."
"Not even the Queen."
The general lowered his head until it touched the floor.
"I understand, Your Majesty."
"Then pray," the king said quietly.
"That the boy dies before anyone else finds him."
....
The journey ended just after noon.
The longship drifted into a harbour unlike anything Eldrin had seen before. Stone towers climbed, their rooftops joined by bridges that stretched between them like woven threads. Strange symbols glowed faintly along the walls.
The traders barked orders before the ship had fully stopped.
"Move!"
Chains rattled as the prisoners climbed onto the dock.
No one resisted.
No one had the strength left.
They weren’t led through the streets.
Instead, the traders marched them toward a platform built from polished black stone.
Resting above it was a long metal carriage.
It resembled an oversized wagon with rows of narrow windows running along each side.
The carriage hovered a hand’s breadth above a pair of silver rails that stretched across the city.
Tiny blue runes flickered beneath its frame.
A faint hum filled the air.
"How is it floating," a slave murmured.
A trader overheard him and smirked.
"Mana."
Another slapped the side of the carriage.
"Magnetic enchantments."
"Now shut up and get in."
The slaves were shoved inside.
Wooden benches lined the interior.
Iron bars covered every window.
With a low vibration, the carriage lurched forward.
Not with the jerking motion of a horse-drawn wagon.
It simply...
...glided.
The city unfolded beyond the barred windows.
Market squares.
Stone canals.
Children laughing.
Merchants arguing.
People living ordinary lives.
No one even glanced toward the slave carriage.
To them...
It was just another part of the city.
An hour later...
The carriage slowed before a towering grey building surrounded by high walls.
Iron gates opened.
Then closed behind them.
The prisoners disappeared inside.
.
The cell smelled of damp stone.
A single lantern burned outside the iron bars, its light barely reaching the far wall.
Chains clinked as the guards pushed the last prisoner inside before locking the heavy door.
Silence settled over the room.
Only after the footsteps faded did Eldrin finally speak.
"Zarian."
The older man looked over.
"I think..."
Eldrin lowered his voice.
"...it’s time."
Zarian already knew what he meant.
He nodded.
Eldrin waited until the lone guard wandered close enough to hear.
The warmth beneath the brand returned.
Not stronger.
Familiar.
The guard paused outside the bars, absent-mindedly adjusting the spear resting against his shoulder.
Eldrin met his eyes.
He remembered the trader.
The certainty.
The quiet conviction.
He spoke softly.
"You’ve already decided to unlock this cell."
The guard looked at him.
Expressionless.
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
Nothing.
The guard scratched his beard.
Spat onto the floor.
And kept walking.
Eldrin blinked.
"...What?"
His pulse quickened.
Why didn’t it work?
It had worked on the beach.
Perfectly.
So why.....
His father’s voice surfaced from memory.
"Conviction isn’t enough, Eldrin."
"Never make a command sound like a command."
"People reject orders."
"They embrace conclusions they believe they reached themselves."
Eldrin’s breathing slowed.
Natural...
It has to feel natural.
He waited.
The guard returned several minutes later.
This time...
Eldrin didn’t speak immediately.
Instead he watched.
The guard looked tired.
Bored.
His attention drifted between the corridor and the ring of keys hanging from his belt.
Only then did Eldrin speak.
Quietly.
"As soon as your shift ends..."
"...you’ll remember you meant to leave this door unlocked."
The guard stopped.
For a brief second...
His hand drifted toward the keys.
Eldrin felt it.
The same strange certainty as before.
It’s working.
The guard’s fingers brushed the lock.
Then...
"Hoy!"
A wooden baton slammed into the back of the guard’s helmet.
He flinched.
Another guard stood behind him, frowning.
"Stop daydreaming."
The first guard blinked several times.
Confusion crossed his face.
"...Right."
He stepped away from the cell.
The feeling vanished.
Eldrin stared through the bars.
"...Damn it."
He leaned back against the wall.
"So close."
Zarian had watched the entire exchange without interrupting.
Only now did he speak.
"My lord..."
"There is something you haven’t asked."
Eldrin rubbed a hand across his face.
"What?"
"Why are we slaves?"
Eldrin frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Zarian remained silent for several moments before answering.