1 Ethyra

Grace was feeling jittery like she could participate in a gymnasium even though she could very well mess up and end up injured. But suppose that is natural, given she was trapped in a barely human-sized cage, dangling from high up the stage as the auctioneer played with his gavel.

Grace shivered as the wind the air flow against her skin, and the clothing she had left little for comfort, nor imagination. Never has she felt so exposed before but then again she has little memory of anything, not how she got here, her home, or address, hell she doesn't even remember her surname to give to the cops, Grace. That was it.

She hugged herself tight as the noise of roars and crackles filled her ears, more and more participants raised their sticks, each one higher than the other for the girl's ownership. What a way to make a girl feel special.

Then someone spoke, loud enough to overlap everyone's noise, "50 million!" Grace's eyes shot up, the auction house turned quiet, and not a word was spoken until the auctioneer's eyes widened before grinning, "Sold to the young man on top!" He slammed the gavel onto the surface. And the auction has come to a close.

She scanned across the rows and rows of chairs, each seated by an alarm rate of men, some old, some in their forties. She looked up where the auctioneer stated and sure enough, there was a man, seated at the very top with his own section. Grace expected him to be old if she was lucky a silver fox, but he was young and looked not quite so different from Grace. And that scared her. Then the man glanced up at her and smiled.

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Everything was static to her, like a scene from a play, she was there but it was as if she was looking out from within. First was the office of the auction house where the paper were signed, then the man gestured his hands, and two armed men arrived. He gave orders that didn't reach her ear before she knew it she was escorted outside where it pit black. There was a vehicle, horses neighed and stomped their hooves. No, it was a carriage.

Why would she be in a carriage? She didn't know, she didn't know anything. It was too dark to look at her surroundings and even so what would be her next course of action? She can't hear anything, no cars, or anything. So she can't exactly jump out of the carriage and ask for help when there's no one there to even hear her.

So..what now? She slowly turned her head. The man sitting across from her was staring with an intensity that almost made her squirm. It was as if she was an unknown entity waiting to be solved by him and only him. She opened her mouth but promptly closed it, she almost told him to stop.

This person is dangerous, why else would he want to buy a living human being if he wasn't? Each word could very well be her last so choose carefully.

"Why did you buy me?" Perfect conversation starter right there.

At first the man didn't respond, or move for that matter. Just stared, and studied. Then he reached out his arm, Grace flinched but then his arm stretched downward. That was when she realized he was just getting something from below the seats.

Grace blinked in a mix of confusion and surprise as he slid a dark suitcase out of the shadows. He unlocked it without a second thought, and its spring opened. Inside it was not something she expected. Then again she didn't know what I was expecting.

But it was not a compass?

It looked to have the shape of a compass at least, a ring of silvery metal, etched with archaic symbols orbiting a single crystal. The crystal was an iridium crystal in the center that constantly shifted, refracting light into myriad colors.

The man did nothing but move the compass towards her, instantly spiral woods seemed to gain a steady pulse on its own. The interlocked silver rings begin to rotate and levitate, creating a larger, more open structure that exposes the core. The crystal pace quickens, lit up in dazzling aurora, casting a kaleidoscope of moving shadows that play unpredictably around the compass.

It was beautiful, yes, but it didn't ease the knot in her stomach, especially upon seeing his reaction, the glint in the man's eyes lit brighter than the core. She shifted awkwardly, she didn't want to be the first one to break the ice again. Eventually, he did say something, a quiet hum as the light slowly faded and the rings went slower.

"Miss," he started, "Do you have any ideas where you are right now?"

She pondered, "New Jersey?" Everything's legal in New Jersey.

The man huffed out a chuckle, "Oh Miss," he sighed, "you have no clue of the circumstance you are in, are you?"

Grace felt her body stilted, no audible and comprehensive words came to her mind, so she shrugged ever so slightly.

The carriage stopped, her frozen body swagged forward, and the horses neighed. The man raised his hand forward and grabbed the handle. The door swings open, he exits first then waits at the door like he's a gentleman, a romantic escort, waiting for his lady. If only that was the case.

Grace took my sweet time getting out of the carriage. As her feet touched the uneven cobblestone, she looked up to see a grand and tall mansion standing before her. It loomed over, a dark silhouette against the night sky, its spires reaching upwards.

Lampposts lined the pathway up to the entrance, it gave off a dim glow, illuminating the path in an amber hue that seemed to flicker with every gust of wind. She could see the mansion's entrance a little better now, grand double doors of dark wood wide open.

She felt a light push on her back, she turned around to what she expected to be the man who rode with her, but no, it was the two men who escorted her to the carriage. Only this time, she could see them in a different light, is that horns and claws on their hands?

Their forms were no longer that of ordinary guards but something out of myth. They were imposing, their stature towering, with skin that had the rough texture and muted gleam of scales. Horns curled back from their foreheads, framing faces that were an unsettling blend of human and reptilian features. Claws, unmistakable in their lethal sharpness, adorned their hands, which had up until now been concealed by the dark.

Grace's heart hammered against my rib cage, a single thought ricocheting through my mind: "What the fuck?"

Before she could even attempt to rationalize what she just saw. The two…creatures kept pushing her forward towards the mansion that looked more like a gateway to who knows what. The air suddenly seemed to crackle with a latent energy. Wisps of light began to materialize, coalescing into forms both wondrous and bizarre; creatures of legend stepping out from the shadows and light alike, their presence defying logic and reason.

A small creature with wings that glimmered like dew in the morning sun fluttered by her face, its tiny features delicate but distinctly otherworldly. From the edges of the estate, beings that could only be described as fairies or sprites danced in the air.

"Miss," He said, "I am Carter Halcyon, and welcome to the world of Ethyra."

"What the fuck…?"