We entered the capital late in the morning.
The walls were high, bright, almost blinding in the sun. The guards at the gate only checked the travelers' documents superficially—the traffic was too heavy to go into details.
Elowen walked a few steps behind me.
She didn't look me in the eye.
She had been distracted since the night in the forest. Quiet. When I tried to start a conversation, she answered briefly. She avoided my gaze, as if she was afraid of seeing something in him that she didn't want to see.
The others did not comment.
The capital was teeming with life. Stone streets, multi-storey buildings with carved balconies, markets smelling of spices and roasted meat. You could hear music, laughter, squabbles of traders.
We were supposed to make a stop here for a few days.
Rest.
Replenish stocks.
We separated. Some went in pairs, others individually. Fenris and Kaelen went to inspect the weapons. Xylia, of course, wanted to see a bookstore with magical textbooks.
I went alone.
I wasn't interested in food stalls.
I didn't stop at the armor.
I didn't look at swords or shields.
I had a different idea.
We lost one person.
We received funding for twenty.
The numbers did not add up.
If I buy one slave — a young, trainable one — I can train him. Shape. To make him a tool that will be loyal, because he will not know any other life.
I went down to a side street, where the hustle and bustle of the city had subsided.
The sign above the door was modest. Metal rim with chain symbol.
I entered.
The interior was larger than the fa?ade suggested. Cool air, stone floor. The smell of sweat, iron and dampness.
There was an exhibition at the entrance.
On the one hand, three huge, muscular women. On the other, three powerful men. All of them in minimal clothing, upright, motionless.
The best commodity, I thought.
Shopping here was surprisingly reminiscent of an ordinary store. You watch. You dial a number. You walk over to the counter.
The only difference is the scale.
Behind the main hall there were rows of cages.
Hundreds.
I searched slowly.
I was in no hurry.
I saw small children with empty eyes. Elderly people, resigned. Strong men who were still trying to look threatening. Women with warrior tattoos. Dwarves. Creatures whose races I didn't even recognize.
But one frame caught my attention.
An elven child.
About fifteen years old.
Gray hair falling over her shoulders. Green eyes — alert, though tired. The body is slim, with no visible muscles.
The price was lower than most of them.
Probably because he doesn't know anything. She is not trained. She doesn't look strong.
I stopped in front of the bars.
She looked at me suspiciously.
"Do you want to be free?" I asked calmly.
She jumped up abruptly and retreated against the very wall of the cage, as far away from me as possible.
She didn't answer.
She just watched.
"I'm going on a four-year expedition," I said. "If you study. If you listen to me. If you survive. I'll set you free.
Her eyes twitched.
"Four years?" She asked quietly.
I nodded.
I didn't cheat on her.
I didn't promise an easy life.
I promised a chance.
She was silent for a few seconds.
At that time, someone laughed from behind me, someone else shouted at another slave. The metal grinded against the metal.
The girl looked to the side, at the other cages.
She probably knew what awaited those who would be bought by others.
She looked at me again.
"Yes," she said quickly. Too fast. As if she was afraid that I would change my mind.
She did not negotiate.
She did not ask for details.
She agreed.
I walked over to the counter.
I gave the number.
I paid.
The transaction lasted shorter than the conversation.
When she was taken out of the cage, she was quiet. She wore a metal collar around her neck with a simple control spell.
She looked at me with a mixture of fear and hope.
"The first thing we'll do when we leave," I said calmly, "is buy you clothes."
She stood barefoot on the cold ground.
It was dirty.
Skinny.
And completely dependent on me.
She didn't know yet that four years by my side could be more difficult than any cage.
I turned and walked to the exit.
She followed me.
And I wondered for a moment if I had just saved her life...
Or did I just change the form of her prison
We left the slave shop in silence.
I didn't lead her by the hand. She walked half a step behind me, instinctively keeping her distance. The collar around her neck was barely visible under her hair, but I felt her weight better than she did.
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We walked into a clothing store.
I wasn't interested in richly decorated dresses or parade armor. I didn't want another swordfish. I didn't need a magician. We already had enough visible strength in the team.
I needed someone who you can't see.
"Try it on," I said, handing her a dark, fitted outfit made of lightweight, stretchy fabric.
The material was matte, did not reflect light. In addition, a thin coat with a hood and fingerless gloves.
She looked at me for a moment, as if she wasn't sure if it was a test.
"You're with me now," I added coldly. "Learn fast.
She changed in the fitting room. When she left, she looked different. She was still petite, still young—but her dark clothes made her almost blend into the shadow between the shelves.
I also bought her a dagger. Small, well-balanced.
I didn't give it to her right away.
Only outside, in a narrow street, did I hand her the gun.
"It's a tool," I said. "Not a toy.
She nodded.
There was no excitement in her eyes.
There was vigilance.
The second step was learning.
I decided that during our stay in the capital I would give her to the care of a real assassin. Someone who will teach her the basics of movement, observation, and punching.
There was one problem.
Being an assassin was illegal.
I had to go deeper into the city.
The further away from the main streets, the fewer guards. The tenement houses became tighter, the cobblestones uneven, the smell of the air heavier.
We entered a tavern that looked like any other place for drunks from the outside. It was twilight inside. Smoke was rising from the ceiling. The conversations fell silent as we crossed the threshold.
I sat down at one of the tables.
"I'm looking for someone to teach her the basics of assassination," I said aloud. "A few days of work. One gold coin.
Silence.
Someone snorted.
Someone else looked away.
A gold coin is a lot.
But the risk was greater.
For a moment, no one spoke.
And then a man sitting against the wall spoke. He looked about twenty years old. Slim. Too calm for this place.
He smiled slightly.
"I'll do it."
I looked at him carefully.
He didn't look like a muscleman. He did not flaunt weapons. It was good.
I came closer.
"He has to learn the basics. Walk quietly. Watch. Kill quickly when necessary," I said. "If you do something to her... you will die instantly.
I didn't raise my voice.
I didn't have to.
At that moment, one of the drunken men at the next table stood up abruptly.
"Who are you to give orders here?"
He didn't finish.
I killed him in one fell swoop.
Fast.
No warning.
His body slid to the floor, blood began to soak into the wood.
Silence fell in the tavern.
The elf next to me flinched. Her breathing quickened for a second.
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye.
She has composed.
Good.
I didn't have to worry that she would run away with him. It was worth much less than one gold coin. No reasonable person would risk a conflict with me for such a "commodity".
Besides...
I was in control.
I looked back at the man.
He didn't look scared.
Interesting.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"It doesn't matter," he replied with a slight smile. "But you can call me Raven.
Of course, that wasn't his real name.
"Where and when?" I asked.
We agreed on the details. Place. Hours. Rules.
He didn't ask about the collar.
He didn't ask about me.
That was good too.
As we left the tavern, the elf was walking closer than before.
She didn't touch me.
But the distance has decreased.
I wasn't afraid that she would run away with him.
I wasn't afraid that someone would try to steal it.
There were many shadows in this city.
But I was the darkest of them.
And it was me who decided who would disappear in them.
The next morning, I escorted the elf to the agreed place.
She didn't say much. She was focused. Her new clothes were more natural on her, the hood casting a shadow on her face. The dagger was at her waist—still uncertain, as if she still wasn't sure if she was allowed to touch it without permission.
Raven was waiting in a narrow alley behind an abandoned warehouse.
"A few days is enough for the basics," I said calmly. "I'll work out the rest myself."
I looked at the elf.
"You listen to him as if you were listening to me.
She nodded.
She did not show fear.
It was good.
I left her there and walked away without looking back.
The meeting of the group was to take place in a rented room above one of the larger taverns in the city center. Two such meetings were planned, one today, the other in a few days.
We had to discuss the further route.
Check if everyone is alive.
Is no one lost in the crowd?
The capital was huge. Crowds of people were passing through the streets non-stop. You could disappear here in an hour — and then wake up in a cage in a slave market.
I didn't mention the elf to anyone.
Not yet.
I was one of the last to enter the room.
I sat down in a chair against the wall, away from the table where the other subgroup commanders were discussing. I was not conspicuous. The mask on my face hid everything — emotions, fatigue, thoughtfulness.
From the outside, I looked calm.
Inside, I analyzed.
Conversations were about supplies, about prices in the city, about possible shortcuts in the further journey. Someone mentioned the increase in the activity of bandits on the northern routes. Someone else about the tensions between the merchants.
I listened.
But only partially.
My thoughts drifted away.
This city was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Larger. Denser. Full of possibilities.
It was my first time here.
And I wanted to know everything.
Not only the obvious.
Not only official trails and fairs.
I was interested in what was hidden.
Then I remembered something from my previous life.
Auction house.
Not an ordinary market.
Not stalls.
A place where rare things are sold. Forbidden. Powerful.
If this city really was a metropolis... it must have had something similar.
The meeting is over.
I stood up with the others, not standing out with a word. No one noticed that half the time my thoughts were elsewhere.
Good.
I went downstairs and began to ask discreetly questions.
Not directly.
Not immediately.
First the jewelry merchant — I made a loose remark about "rare occasions." Then an older map dealer. Finally, the guard, who became more talkative for the right coin.
I found out that there are two auction houses in the capital.
The first — for ordinary merchants. Open auctions, mainly luxury goods, exotic spices, works of art.
The second — less official.
For high-ranking people. Adventurers, influential merchants, aristocracy.
Admission only with appropriate confirmation of status.
I smiled under the hood.
My rank perfectly matched the requirements of the second type.
The next auction was supposed to take place today.
At sunset.
I stood in the shadow of the building for a moment, watching the traffic. The sun was still high, but it was slowly starting to sink.
I had a few hours.
Enough to prepare.
Enough to decide what I'm actually looking for there.
Because it wasn't just about curiosity.
Auction houses do not sell ordinary things.
They sell the advantage.
And I never denied myself the advantage.
There is one hour left until the auction starts.
I walked slowly through the cobbled streets, taking my time. The setting sun colored the city gold and red, and the shadows between the buildings lengthened with each passing minute.
I thought about many things.
About what I can find there.
About whether there will be something really worth paying attention to — something that will give me an advantage.
I was also thinking about an elf.
How good will it be after the training?
Is her petite figure enough to become a shadow?
Is there enough coolness in her eyes to stick the blade without hesitation?
I didn't expect loyalty.
I expected effectiveness.
The auction house building did not have a sign. From the outside, it looked like an elegant, private residence. Only the discreet presence of armed guards betrayed his true destiny.
Documents were checked at the entrance.
I gave mine without saying a word.
The guard looked at the rank, at the seals, at the signatures. He nodded and stepped back, making room for me.
I went inside.
The room was large, semicircular. High ceilings, heavy curtains, crystal lamps casting soft light. The rows of seats are arranged in steps around the elevation.
I took a seat in one of the side rows.
It took a while for the room to fill up.
Many people were wearing masks.
Black, gold, silver. Simple and richly decorated.
There were also those who did not cover their faces. The brave... or so powerful that they didn't have to hide. They bid on suspicious things without a shadow of hesitation.
The auction has begun.
The host was... strange.
Too theatrical. Too expressive. His gestures were wide, his voice excessively modulated. It would be more suited to a circus than a place where items worth kingdoms are sold.
But that's not why I came here to judge his style.
The first item is an advanced firebending book.
Starting price: 12 gold coins.
I didn't raise my hand.
The second — two long swords forged by the dwarves.
17 gold coins.
The blades were beautiful. Perfectly balanced.
I didn't bid.
The third subject attracted more attention.
A set of books written by an advanced wind mage, from beginner to master.
23 gold coins.
The auction quickly exceeded this amount.
37 gold coins.
Someone on the other side of the room raised the price without hesitation.
I didn't interfere.
The fourth subject aroused a slight interest in me.
The Book of Elves about the magic of teleportation.
Starting price: 8 gold coins.
Low.
Too low for teleportation.
Only after a while did I understand why.
The book was richly decorated with gold and jewels. The price mainly included the setting, not the content. Perhaps it was incomplete. Perhaps impractical.
No one picked up the sign.
There was silence.
I raised my hand.
My plaque lifted calmly.
"Eight gold."
"Going once…"
Silence.
"Going twice…"
No opposition.
"Sold."
The hammer hit echoed.
I lowered the plate.
It was not an impulse.
It was curiosity.
The fifth and final subject caused a stir in the whole room.
Dragon bone.
A big one. Dark. Pulsating with a delicate aura.
Starting price: 100 gold coins.
I didn't have that much.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't get into this game.
The auction lasted a few minutes. Fast. Aggressive.
The amounts grew like flames.
150
151
152
Final price — 218 gold coins.
A sum equal to about 150 years of paying for the survival of a family of four.
One bone.
One relic.
One whim of a powerful man.
The auction has come to an end.
I picked up my book.
The setting was heavy, cool to the touch. The gold glistened in the light of the lamps.
I left the auction house in silence.
Night has already fallen.
The city continued to teem as if nothing had happened.
I walked slowly down the street, holding the book under my coat.
Teleportation.
Elves cannot use teleportation.
Or at least that's what the majority claims.
So how could an elf write this book?
Was it a theory?
Forbidden knowledge?
Or maybe someone has ever crossed a line that others were afraid to even think about?
I stopped for a moment, looking at the dark sky over the capital.
This city gave more questions than answers.
And I liked it.
Because the more secrets, the more possibilities.
I clenched my fingers on the cover of the book.
Tomorrow I will plan again.
Tomorrow I will analyze again.
But today...
Today I took the first step towards something that could have changed the rules of the game.

