God Rising: Battle Of Atela 79 Chapter 18 Crossroads

"YOU THERE!!!" 

The girl talking to Artemis shrieked, and she quickly crawled away from her.  New rules were because of Artemis. No one was supposed to talk to her. The slave master claimed she was rotten and would corrupt the mind of the others. Artemis's few minutes friend was caught talking to her and chances they'd see or talk again was narrow. 

Artemis stayed frozen in her gloomy corner. Naked, cold and starved. Her eyes had rings, she now had hollowed cheeks accompanied with a pale skin; pallid and stretched over her stark bones. She'd lost too much weight after she'd been separated from Darren.

Ever since she'd lost Zircon, she was losing her mind. She wondered if the curse had already started settling in.

Escaping the ring meant leaving Zircon behind wherever it was. She couldn't afford to let herself be sold, so she did everything to prevent that. She didn't lose weight because the slave Masters deprived her of food; she lost weight because she declined every nourishment that was given to her. She'd hit herself against the wall, paint herself in bruises and blood whenever the time came for slaves to be sold. She dreaded being a bed slave just as much as she feared leaving Zircon in the wrong hands.

The ring master was already fed up of her, but he believed she'd bring in a lot of gold if only they pulled in an audience of scholars and researchers. There was a faint aura of magic presence in her, and how she got it was unknown. As long as she was alive, nothing would stop her from getting sold. There was no place to run, no place to hide, the security was tight, and if she tried escaping, she'd lose a body part.

Everyday sickening day that pa.s.sed, she shamelessly hoped Darren would come somehow. She had no clue of where she was, or who the people around her might be. The only thing she cared about was returning to her a.s.s-kicking self of a few months ago. There was another grand slave sale coming up. It was another time to beat herself up and spark up fights with the guards so she'd be too injured to be selected. 

Slaves that were bought were beautiful, properly fed, and completely brainwashed and weak. They didn't like their faith, but there was nothing they could do. The slave Master's job was simple, groom them, auction them, and once they're sold, the witch doctors would remove their womb, then send them off to their new owner's residence. The whole sequence would repeat itself.

Nighttime stretched as long as the roads made of black cobble stones. The clatters of the carriage resounded as the horses bounded across the path meandering through the eery stillness of the woods.

At the end of the road was was a colossal tent of vivid yellows, magentas and royal blue colors that could be seen from miles away. The red flag flapped in the wind as the horses pulled the gaily painted carriages to a stop. n.o.ble Beastmen of different ethnicities gathered, the males dressed in dazzling rich colors, the women elaborately dressed in their best tailored gowns. The gabs of partners and a.s.sociates filled the air until the tent opened. The beastmen made their way into the dome, took their seats and waited for the auction to begin.

"If you're not sold after tonight, I will kill you." That was all the slave master had to say to her. The man dressed in a white jerkin with a trim-fit brown coat and a pair of brown pants moved to the stage. The long chain of slaves followed, and Artemis was the last of them. 

Every girl was stripped, and their hands were tied to a hook so they'd be examined. Any n.o.ble that was satisfied with the state of their bodies would name a price, and the highest bid would get the slave. It went on for an hour and the sales were majorly on Aricans, and latyans, while the rest brought a smaller income.

Ali, the slave master, drew his fine latex gloves over his stubby-fingered hands which looked almost bloodless as Artemis' naked body was put on display. Her hair was barely combed back into a messy ponytail, and dirt literally was smeared across her cheek and forehead. Her bare arms and legs were as ashy and pale as her face. Of course no one would buy her. Her ailing state caused that, and the only one to blame was herself.

The slave's b.r.e.a.s.t.s pouched, and she turned her face away. Every breeze that pa.s.sed by made her skin p.r.i.c.kle, as her Ali's hands traveled across her bare skin. The crowd continued to watch in silence, examining the boney structure of the so-called bedslave. Artemis gnawed her nether lip, as the beastman took her face in his hands and tilted her head to face the crowd.

"This 'thing' might not be the best slave we have here, but there is something special about her. The slave has little magic presence within her. You could say she's one of a kind." His hands continued to move down her body, and he slid it in between her thighs, making her squeal.

The n.o.bles mumrured, wondering who the slave could truly be. They wanted to experiment with her, but a part of their minds preferred to not waste money on something like that. They discoursed amongst themselves briefly, but no one was willing to bid. Ali had been hoping he'd successfully placate someone to buy, but it looked like the crammed crowd was not interested.

The slave master's twin eyes of dark caverns settled on the sword he carried around his waist, and he unsheathed it. A part of Artemis didn't want to die, but it looked like there was nothing else she could do. He was about to slash her when a loud voice came from the crowd, "A thousand gold!" 

All the beastmen turned to the direction of the sound in wonderment. They gawked at the foolish beastman who'd waste so much money on a human girl that wasn't worth it. They hissed, and some silently insulted his decision. 

Artemis's eyes widened, and tears slowly trickled down her face as she dropped her head in defeat. Ali was glad and also surprised. Chances of her being sold was a complete zero, but she turned out lucky to have dragged a customer at the dying minute. The slave master waved his hand to the scattering crowd, "SOLD!" With that, the auction had come to an end, and Ali sold all the gisrl to their new owners. 

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