In a dark place, a small cough could be heard.
"Where… am I?" a weak voice sounded. "This doesn't look like my home… Where are Mama and Papa?"
A young girl wandered through a darkened alley in the city of the gods—somewhere deep within the realm of the divine.
"Oooui! Over here!"
A shout echoed through the shadows, and out stepped three towering figures, looming over the small girl.
"Look at this—what do we have here?" the leader of the group said with a sneer.
"It's an elf, boss," one of the lackeys added.
"An elf?" the boss muttered. "They don't belong here... not unless they've got divine essence. But this one doesn't have any."
He grinned.
"Oh well. Guess it's our lucky day, boys. We'll take this kid to the auction house. I heard there'll be a lot of good stuff there. And even though elves aren't exactly rare, she shouldn't be able to stay in this realm without divinity. So... I guess that means she's special."
The little girl stepped back, her bare feet making the faintest sounds against the cold stone. Her silver hair shimmered faintly in the low light, and her large, frightened eyes darted between the towering figures.
She didn't understand what they were saying, not all of it anyway—but she could feel it. The hunger in their eyes. The way they looked at her like she was a prize, not a person.
"I want to go home…" she whispered, voice trembling.
The leader stepped closer. "Oh, you will go somewhere, little elf. Just not home."
He reached out a hand, thick fingers wrapped in rings and cloth straps. But the moment he got too close—
A spark flickered.
It was faint. Almost invisible. But it made him stop.
"What the...?"
The girl's eyes had changed. For just a second, they glowed. A pale blue shimmer, like the light from a dying star. The air around her shifted, like something ancient had stirred.
"She is something," the lackey muttered, taking a cautious step back.
"I told you," the boss said, eyeing her warily. "She's not normal. That glow... that's not mortal magic."
The girl didn't know what she was doing. She was scared, cold, and confused—but something deep inside her pulsed. Something old. Forgotten.
She blinked slowly, and a strange warmth moved through her chest.
"I… don't want to go with you," she said, her voice stronger now.
For a moment, silence filled the alley.
Then, without warning, the shadows behind the girl twisted. A shape peeled itself from the darkness—tall, elegant, cloaked in robes that shimmered like the night sky.
"Enough," said the figure, voice calm but heavy with power.
The three men froze.
"W-what is that?" one of them stammered.
The figure stepped forward, placing a hand gently on the girl's shoulder. "She doesn't belong to you."
The alley grew colder. Or maybe it was just the fear creeping in.
"Run," the figure told the girl softly.
The girl hesitated for only a second—then turned and ran, her small form disappearing into the shadows as the cloaked being turned to face the stunned men.
"Oh… it's you."
The boss's tone shifted, more wary than angry now. His gaze flicked toward the cloaked figure stepping from the shadows—Duke, a god of darkness, feared by even the boldest of underworld dealers.
"Duke," the boss muttered, jaw tightening. "Why'd you let our prey go?"
Duke's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. Shadows clung to him like living smoke, whispering at the edges of his cloak as he stepped forward.
"Well, you see…" he said in a smooth, composed voice, "as a fellow god of the darkness, I felt the need to intervene. For your own good, of course."
The other three stiffened, exchanging glances. Duke didn't speak idly.
"You've heard of it, haven't you?" he asked, pausing for dramatic effect. "Realmwalking."
The word sent a chill through the air.
"I believe the girl can do it. And if she gets too scared, too panicked… she might accidentally slip through to another realm. Vanish, just like that." He snapped his fingers, the sound echoing sharply down the alley.
He leaned in close, tapping the boss gently on the shoulder."And that would be very inconvenient for us. Wouldn't it?"
The boss swallowed, suddenly less confident. "I guess that explains why she's even here. Realmwalkers are just myths to most. But if she is one…" He trailed off, muttering under his breath, "Unlucky little thing, catching your eye."
Duke turned his gaze to the lackeys. His shadowed eyes glittered with something unreadable.
"Now, no need to sulk. We split it fifty-fifty. I take half of the prize—whatever she fetches, whatever secrets she holds—and you three divide the rest. Seems fair, doesn't it?"
One of the lackeys, the youngest of the three, nodded quickly. "Yes, Lord Duke. That's more than fair." He shot a glance at his boss, who gave a long, reluctant sigh.
"Half of something's better than none of nothing," the boss muttered. "But how do we catch her? If she's a realmwalker… even unconscious, she might slip away."
Duke smiled and raised a gloved hand, revealing a pair of delicate metal bracelets—etched with ancient runes, glowing faintly with violet light.
"Oh, I've already taken care of that. I placed a passive drain spell on her the moment I sensed her aura. She should be weakening as we speak. In a few more minutes, she'll collapse."
He turned the bracelets slowly in the light. "These will keep her grounded. No realmwalking, no magic bursts, no divine surges. Just a sleeping little elf in a box."
"Good idea," the older lackey muttered. "She won't even know what hit her…"
But across the alley, far from their notice, a pair of eyes watched.
Perched on a rooftop above the alley, a hooded figure crouched in silence. A glimmer of celestial silver traced the hem of their cloak. They'd heard everything.
Their gaze shifted from the greedy thugs to the small form of the girl, now stumbling a little as her knees wobbled.
"She's fading…" the figure whispered.
As the Elven girl ran, her feets were getting colder.
Every step felt heavier than the last as she wandered deeper into the twisting alleyways. The buildings loomed over her like crooked giants, their stone faces silent and watching.
She didn't know where she was. The sky above wasn't even a sky—it was a ceiling of swirling dark clouds, lit by no sun or stars. Just shadows. Endless shadows.
Her breath came in shallow puffs. Her chest felt tight.
Why am I so tired? she thought, stumbling a little as she reached for a nearby wall for support.
Her small fingers grazed the stone, but even that brief contact made her feel… weaker. Her limbs trembled slightly. Her vision blurred at the edges, colors bleeding together like spilled paint.
Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees with a soft thump. "Mama…?" she whimpered, voice barely a whisper.
Her head felt heavy. Like a warm fog had slipped into her mind. Thoughts became harder to hold onto. Everything felt distant… muted… like the world was slowly sinking underwater.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, slow and loud.
Something's wrong. Why can't I stand? Why can't I… think?
She curled in on herself, her silver hair falling like a curtain around her pale face. The strange city of gods no longer seemed grand or distant—it pressed in on her, suffocating and vast.
Then, deep within her chest, something flickered.
A soft hum. A warmth. Faint, but ancient.
It pulsed once—like a heartbeat that wasn't her own. Then again. And again.
She could feel it stirring, like something was waking up inside her. Like something remembered.
The walls around her shimmered briefly. A whisper passed through her thoughts in a language she didn't know… but somehow understood.
Not here. Not yet. Stay.
Her magic responded instinctively, trying to rise, to defend her—but it couldn't. It was being drained. Siphoned. Like a hole had been poked in her soul and her strength was bleeding out.
She gritted her teeth, her tiny hands clenching. "No… no, I don't want to go…"
Her body tipped to the side, hitting the stone with a dull thud. She could barely feel the pain. Her eyelids fluttered as darkness began to close in.
Above her, the shadows twisted again.
But this time… not just Duke's.
There was something else. A presence she hadn't felt before. Watching.
Waiting.
Cough. Cough. Cough.
The girl stirred once again, her small body aching from the cold floor beneath her. She tried to lift her head, but her neck felt stiff and heavy.
Where… am I?
She blinked slowly, her vision adjusting to the warm, golden light flickering above her. Ornate lanterns floated in midair, swaying slightly without wind. The room smelled of incense and old parchment, with a bitter trace of magic in the air.
She tried to sit up—then winced.
Cold iron bars surrounded her on all sides. She was inside a cage, square and narrow, with barely enough space to stretch her legs. The floor was smooth stone, inlaid with glowing lines that pulsed faintly beneath her skin—sigils, old and unfamiliar, whispering power just beneath the surface.
She glanced down.
Something shimmered on her wrists and neck—jewelry, at first glance. A thin silver collar circled her throat, adorned with tiny, blinking runes. Matching cuffs bound her wrists, connected by a fine magical chain that hovered just above her skin, glowing faintly blue.
It looked delicate. It felt like a mountain.
The moment she tried to move her hands, the cuffs pulsed. A draining sensation sank into her bones. She whimpered and stopped moving.
A voice rang out from across the chamber.
"Ah… she's finally awake."
Her head snapped toward the sound. A tall man approached with quiet, measured steps, his long dark coat trailing behind him like a shadow. He looked older, but not frail—his hair slicked back, face sharp and composed. Silver rings adorned his fingers. His eyes were cold.
"I am Tian," he announced, stopping in front of her cage. "The Auctioneer of this esteemed hall. And you, little one, are most fortunate."
She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.
"You see," Tian continued, hands folded neatly behind his back, "very few mortals ever find themselves in the divine realm. Fewer still are allowed to remain. But you… you've been selected."
He gestured around the chamber with a sweep of his hand.
Now she saw them—rows of cages lining the circular room, each one containing a person… or something like one. A horned boy with glowing eyes. A girl made of living crystal. A child with feathers growing along her arms.
All of them were silent. Some were asleep. Others were awake, but unmoving. Broken.
The girl's breathing quickened.
"You will be auctioned shortly," Tian said, voice as smooth as the polished floor. "Perhaps to a noble goddess of the sun. Or a god of winds. If luck favors you, you'll serve in beauty and warmth. You'll be honored."
His smile thinned. "But should your fate fall into the darker courts…"
He trailed off, letting the silence finish the sentence.
She tried to speak, but her voice cracked. "I… I want to go home…"
Tian crouched to eye level, his expression unreadable.
"There is no 'home' for you anymore, little one. You've crossed into a realm where rules do not bend for mortals. You are here now… until someone decides what you're worth."
He stood and turned to walk away, calling back over his shoulder:
"Rest while you can. The divine are nearly gathered. And you wouldn't want to look too weak when the bidding starts."
As his footsteps faded, a low chime rang from deep within the building—soft and distant, like a bell underwater.
The auction was beginning.
And she was the prize.
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