Chapitre 7: Arrival of a Hero

"I've decided on these few. They'll make a fine addition to the auction," the noblewoman said, consulting Kaitlyn's notebook.

"Certainly. I'll prepare them for you at once," Kaitlyn said.

"You'd best bring them outside. I'm not returning to that dreadful dust anytime soon. Didn't I tell you to get that place swept out?"

"Of course. I'll set some on it later today."

The noble nodded and climbed into her carriage, the coachman swinging the door shut with a crisp snap. Kaitlyn walked through the warehouse and onto the upper floor, returning minutes later with several chains. She collected five slaves from different aisles and dragged them out to the coach. The chains attached to a metal ring on the back of the carriage and connected the slave collars. Once finished, she knocked on the side of the carriage.

"Send our commission by courier. I hate traveling to the city," Kaitlyn called loudly.

The noble replied, but the carriage wall and distance muffled her voice. Behind them, the dust cloud neared enough to reveal several riders. They were still far off, but my sharp eyesight made out a few details. They wore full plate armor and carried weapons, mostly swords and spears. Their horses were large and similarly armored, making for a very imposing sight.

Despite the rising dust and noise, Kaitlyn seemed unaware of their impending arrival, stalking back into the warehouse the instant the nobles coach pulled away. I gulped as she marched straight to me, a murderous glare carved into her face.

"Damn Filthblood," she said viciously, "Remember the first rule?"

I nodded, but my voice caught in my throat. Struggling to speak only sent a fresh wave of pain through my chest, and I groaned, tail twitching limply.

"Some might say I've already taught you a lesson, but you're just too damn worthless and broke already. A damaged slave only has one purpose. Do you know what it is?"

"N-no," I whispered hoarsely, squeezing my eyes shut.

Kaitlyn smiled viciously and raised her voice, filling the entire warehouse. "This will be a good lesson for the rest of you. I don't even want to know you exist!"

She opened the cage and clawed inside, her fingers closing on my arm like a vice. Her grip alone must have bruised my bone, and I screamed as she dragged me from the cage, causing more blood to leak past the makeshift bandage.

"Please," I sobbed, "I won't do it again!"

"Perhaps you should have thought about that before doing it the first time!"

Her voice was cold and, beneath the cruelty, filled with pleasure. I curled up on the ground, sobbing, and clutched my head in my arms as she began to kick me again. It was no different than the beatings she gave the others who had fallen out of line, yet this time was different. It was clear she had no intention of stopping until I no longer breathed.

"Ahem!"

A loud cough cut through the air, and I let out a sob of relief as the blows ceased. Kaitlyn's head whipped back, shouting before she laid eyes on the intruder.

"Who dares to--Prince Altric!" Her face turned ashen white, and she fell to her knees, bowing low. "I-I wasn't expecting you so soon!"

Kaitlyn's hands shook with fear as she prostrated, not daring to look up at the riders, who sat atop their horses motionlessly. I lay limply beside her, still curled up, blood pulsing from my side with every beat of my rapidly weakening heart. My vision was dark and blurry, but through the tears, I could just make out a group of riders.

There were a dozen of them, perhaps, wearing gleaming armor that caught the evening sun, reflecting it away in a dazzling display of light. The leader, Prince Altric, wore a golden cloak and an ornate gem-encrusted circlet. He was strong and masculine, with a neatly trimmed beard and broad chest.

A boy about my age rode at his side, looking at the pitiful scene with a frown. He was well-built and handsome by all accounts, with eyes that glowed like the evening sun. There was a faint hallow about him, an aura that sent a shiver down my spine.

The boy met my eyes and smiled, but his face twisted into a grimace the moment he saw my wounds. A cold, furious light entered his eyes, and a shudder crawled down my tail. This was not someone I was able to offend.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked in a cold voice, cantering forward until his horse loomed over our prone bodies.

Kaitlyn looked up sharply but quickly lowered her eyes as both the boy and the Prince dismounted. She stood as Altric gestured her up, giving them a searching, if respectful, look.

"And this is?" she asked.

"The Sun Hero, named Soltair. Despite his youth, he comes with the blessing of both church and crown. You would do well to heed him," he replied sternly.

For the second time, Kaitlyn paled with fear. "A hero? Please forgive my rash words. I wasn't aware someone of your station would be visiting!"

The hero's frown deepened. "What are you doing to that girl? Can't you see she's hurt?"

She gulped like a fish, her mouth opening and closing several times before words came. "M-my Lord?" After a quick glance at Altric, who nodded, she gathered her bearings for a proper response. "This...filthblood nearly cost me a rather lucrative deal. As such, for its disobedience, I was administering discipline. It might seem barbaric to one as young as yourself, but there is nothing you need to concern yourself with. This is a perfectly normal, if ugly, part of the trade."

The Sun Hero's eyes narrowed, and I curled up tighter as I felt his gaze again. My tail twitched, drawing close around me, wet with my own blood.

"Perhaps I speak out of ignorance," the hero said, turning to the prince, "But in this world, is it common to kill children when disciplining them?"

Kaitlyn stiffened as the prince chuckled, turning white as a sheet.

"Under normal circumstances, slavers are free to do as they wish for their property," the prince began, causing my heart to sink. "However, all slaves taken from the Beast Kingdom were given to the crown itself as part of the spoils of the war, and such are considered royal property. Any to do so could be charged with treason."

"I see," the hero said slowly. He knelt by my side and reached out, brushing my side with a gauntleted finger. It came away wet with blood, which he held up toward Kaitlyn. "Then... explain this."

She drew a deep breath, but it did little to still her trembling. "M-My Lord, t-this is only a filthblood, and-"

An angry shout erupted from behind the still-mounted soldiers. "What are you doing? Hero, you must get away from that thing!"

A tall, middle-aged man dressed in white robes pushed through the knights. A large stylized sun was embroidered on his robes, and a similar aura to that of the hero's radiated from him. He stalked forward, glaring at me, and snatched the hero's wrist, yanking him away.

"Father, unhand the hero," Prince Altric said, frowning.

The priest ignored the prince and tried to pull the hero further away, glaring at me the whole while. "Soltair, this... thing is a demon. You cannot allow yourself to become stained by its filth. It was monsters like this that forced our hand in war against the Beast Kingdom."

The hero jerked his hand out of the priest's grip, giving him a dark look. "Does she qualify?" he asked, turning to the prince.

Prince Altric sighed and walked over, placing a hand on the hero's shoulder. "I know you're upset, but things like this are common in the world. You can't let your emotions get in the way of such an important decision. You need to choose a slave with enough potential that they can stand beside you and fight demons, and this... girl clearly won't make it. It would be a mercy, at this point, to allow the slaver to finish her work."

"You, slaver," the hero said, "Is she from the beast kingdom?"

Kaitlyn jumped at his voice. "Y-yes, my Lord. It came in over two months back with one of the first batches. But please, you must reconsider this. This creature is worthless. Even if it's young and a virgin, I doubt even the most depraved nobles would care for it."

"N-no," I whispered, coughing up blood. It couldn't end like this. If he could just persevere a little more, I could--

Somehow, the hero heard my voice, and his expression softened. With a meaningful look at the Father, he knelt beside me and smoothed a ragged lock of crimson hair away from my face. His gaze met mine, and the entire world seemed to slow. The sunlight framed his face, his touch soft and caring. Warmth blossomed in my chest, an emotion I'd never felt before rising to fill my heart.

"Please..."

The hero gave me a small, reassuring smile before looking up at those around us. "Altric, can we test her? I want to know if she has any potential at all."

The prince hesitated before reluctantly nodding. He waved his hand and two of the soldiers moved to me. One grabbed my arms roughly and held me up, causing me to cry out. Blood ran down my side, causing me to cry out, and Soltair gave them a sharp look. The two immediately relaxed their grips, allowing me a small moment of respite.

"This is ridiculous," the priest tried to say but stalled as Altric held up his hand.

A third soldier, this one clothed in deep red robes, began to speak in a foreign language. The words were clear and beautiful, ringing through the warehouse-like music, causing my heart to stir yet again. Several bright circles, fashioned from pure light itself, appeared around me, and a tingle raced through my body. The strange power within me reacted to it, filling me with warmth.

"Her soul is strong," the man said, backing away as the light faded.

The warmth lingered long after the magic circles disappeared, giving me enough strength to sustain myself for a little longer.

"Good enough?" the hero asked. I glanced up to find him grinning smugly at the priestly man.

"Impossible!" the priestly man hissed, "No filthblood can stand beside our hero!"

The prince folded his arms, "Are you implying my soldier lied? Only those capable of reaching the sixth level have that kind of response to the spell."

"Then I choose her. Father, heal her."

"I refuse," the man said through clenched teeth. "We ought to kill demons on sight, not save them."

"Father," Prince Altric said, voice taking on a hint of warning. "We both agreed it would be his decision."

The priestly man was rigid and unmoving. He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times before releasing a sigh. "Don't think this matter is over. I'll be speaking with His Holiness about this."

He strode forward and reached his hand out and placed it in between my horns, face twisting as though he'd touched a snake. He pressed down firmly and muttered a few words.

Thoughts fled my mind as an uncomfortable pressure blew through my body, and I hissed as the bones in my chest began retreating to their rightful places. Skin knit together and healed until even the scars had faded. Once it was finished, the Father released my head and stepped back, shaking his hand in disgust.

I closed my eyes, amazed to feel the pain had vanished. So this was magic. My breath was normal and the weakness caused by blood loss was gone. Before I could rejoice in that, strength fled my body and I swooned. The hero lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. Concern painted his handsome face.

"Rest. I'll take it from here."

Not that I could have resisted. I fell into his embrace and closed my eyes, the miraculous healing taking the rest of my strength. For some reason, the cold steel of his armor felt comforting, allowing me to sink safely into unconsciousness.

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