The City of Darathor

In the stillness of the forest, the night shrouded everything in a cloak of shadows and whispers, creating an atmosphere of mystery and untold secrets. Ethan sat next to Lyra, the young ratkin, on a small log illuminated by the moonlight. The crackling of the fire and the chirping of insects were the only sounds breaking the silence. Ethan watched Lyra with an inquisitive gaze, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and calculation.

"Lyra, I've noticed how your fellow ratkin treat you," said Ethan with a tone that blended interest and feigned compassion. "They seem to despise you so much that they offered you to a stranger like me without a second thought. Why is that?"

Lyra lowered her gaze, her expression reflecting deep pain and a resignation rooted in years of suffering.

"It's because of my hair," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "I was born with this black hair, a color that, in our tribe, is seen as a symbol of misfortune. Since I was little, they always avoided me. It wasn't so bad at first; they just kept their distance. But everything changed when I was a teenager."

Ethan listened in silence, allowing her to continue without interruption.

"My father... died because of me." Lyra's voice broke as she said these words, her gaze lost in some painful memory. "It was an accident, but everyone believed it was because of my curse. Shortly after, my mother also died. The entire tribe blamed me. Since that day, they treat me like an outcast. No matter what I do, they ignore me, they despise me... I am a curse to them."

Ethan nodded slowly, understanding that superstitions and fear could lead to cruel acts in primitive societies.

"It's hard to live like this, with no one to talk to, with no one who even looks at you," Lyra continued, her eyes filled with resigned despair. "Since then, I haven't had anyone. Whatever I say or do, it's like I don't exist."

Ethan watched her with a mix of interest and coldness. He knew that in underdeveloped societies, things like this were common, a mix of ignorance and fear that could destroy lives.

"I understand. But you must know that once we reach Darathor, you'll have to return." Ethan paused, his gaze firm on Lyra's eyes. "There's no place for you with us. You have to go back, but I hope your situation improves."

Ethan's words fell on Lyra like an unbearable weight. Her face filled with desperation and anguish, and without thinking, she knelt in front of him, pressing her forehead to the ground in a gesture of desperate supplication.

"Please, don't leave me here." Lyra's voice trembled with palpable fear. "For years, I haven't been able to talk to anyone, I haven't had anyone. I'm too alone, and I don't want to feel like this again. I'll do anything, but please, don't abandon me."

Ethan looked at her with a calculated expression, weighing his options. Then, with a malicious smile that Lyra could not see, he spoke.

"You must understand something, Lyra. Yassmin and I are not good people. If you come with us, you'll have to endure seeing or even helping us kill many people. You might even have to kill the ratkin you grew up with. Are you willing to do that?"

Lyra trembled at the statement, visible fear crossing her face. But then, with a determination born of desperation, she nodded slowly.

"Yes... I'll do anything, please, don't leave me."

Ethan's smile widened, reflecting a dark satisfaction. It was exactly what he had been waiting for. Loyalty born of fear and desperation was a powerful tool, and Lyra had just surrendered herself to him completely.

The next day, the group finally arrived at Darathor, a human city located outside the forest. High stone walls surrounded the city, a bastion of defense and security for its inhabitants. Darathor was known for its xenophobia, a product of a history of conflicts with other peoples and races. Anyone who was not a citizen was viewed with suspicion and hostility, and the ratkin, although they occasionally traded with the city, had never been welcome within its walls.

As Ethan, Yassmin, and Lyra approached the main gate, the guards stopped them with a severe look.

"What do you want here?" asked one of the guards, a tall, robust man with an expression of distrust. It was clear that he did not want to let them in.

Yassmin stepped forward, her body moving with a seductive grace that made the guard relax slightly.

"We just seek a place to rest and get supplies," said Yassmin, approaching the guard.

When she got close enough, one of her hairs transformed into a small snake that bit the guard's neck. The venom acted quickly, leaving the guard drowsy and dazed.

"You may… pass," the soldier said between slurred words.

Ethan and the others took advantage of the moment and did not hesitate to pass through the gate, entering the city without further problems.

Inside Darathor, the atmosphere was no better. The inhabitants' gazes were full of contempt and distrust. In the taverns, they were denied entry, and in other establishments, the merchants refused to serve them. The only exception was a man who seemed interested in them, the owner of a slave establishment.

"Welcome," said the man with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My name is Garven. I see you are travelers, something unusual in this place. Perhaps you might be interested in seeing some of my wares."

Ethan exchanged a glance with Yassmin and then nodded.

"We're interested, show us," said Ethan, his tone neutral, revealing nothing.

Garven led them inside his establishment, a dark and gloomy place where slaves were chained and displayed like merchandise. Although Ethan and Yassmin had no intention of buying, they knew that in places like this, such things were normal. And so, they ventured into the shadows, watching Garven, who walked ahead of them.

As they walked through the dark corridors of the slave establishment, Garven, with an almost satisfied smile, began to show them the human slaves for sale. The variety was limited and monotonous, but sufficient for those looking to acquire labor or companionship in the city.

"Is this all you have?" asked Ethan with a tone that mixed skepticism and challenge.

Garven smiled cunningly, knowing that Ethan was looking for something more.

"Not at all. I have some very special slaves that I keep for more select clients. Follow me."

Garven led them to a smaller, better-lit room where five people were chained. Unlike the others, these slaves did not appear beaten down; there was a spark of life and dignity in their eyes that clearly set them apart.

"These are my best slaves," said Garven proudly. "Two warriors, two artisans, and a sex companion. All of them of superior quality."

Ethan observed the slaves with some interest; the two warriors looked like bodybuilders, and as for the artisans, it appeared they were just a blacksmith and a carpenter, nothing that interested Ethan. Compared to those from his world, these fell far behind. Lastly, the girl, although pretty, could not compare to Yassmin. After a quick glance, Ethan lost interest. He took advantage of the situation to start gathering some information.

"Where did they come from?" asked Ethan, maintaining his neutral tone, but letting slip a curiosity that Garven could not ignore.

"They all come from the city of Tarmian," Garven replied, his voice lowering to an almost conspiratorial tone. "A fairly prosperous human city to the west of here. These five are part of the noble family that ruled it, but a rebellion overthrew them. Now they are here, awaiting a new master. Personally, I would like it if you were the one to buy them; if someone from Darathor buys them, their fate will be a quick death. The people here have a special hatred for the people of Tarmian."

Ethan nodded, understanding the situation. Unfortunately for these people, Ethan had no intention of buying them. He simply continued chatting with Garven.

"Anyway, when you said you would show me your best slaves, I was expecting something more... special. Tell me, don't you sell mages?"

"Mages? Are you referring to those humans who use... magic? You're crazy. How could you think I could have someone from the Royal family as slaves?"

According to the slave trader, the only humans with magic were those with royal lineage, who ruled the entire kingdom thanks to that power. This greatly disappointed Ethan, who wanted to find new abilities as a necromancer. Yassmin, who, besides being a good night companion, had a lot of knowledge, understood that this world of rank B was weak even among those of the same rank. But to cheer up Ethan a bit, she also said that although it was a weak world, they could still have strange minerals or some species with some unusual characteristics, and that they should not lose hope just yet.