Celestial Descendant

Chapter 5: A New Captivity

The transaction complete, Harlan turned from the door, a look on his face that was both gratifying and disdainful. He called for his personal assistant to attend him. "Miriel, come here."

A moment later, Miriel entered, his carriage perfectly straight, his face smooth, reflecting confidence and command. Harlan handed the boy over to him, a slight tremble in his voice undermining the casualness of the gesture. "Take this one. He's yours now."

Miriel's eyes, cool and calculating, studied the boy. "Of course, Master Harlan." He made a graceful, almost languid gesture for the boy to follow, his movements those of a conductor in front of an orchestra. The boy went forward, curiosity bubbling beneath his surface, the world now unfolding around him from behind the door of Harlan's office.

Miriel took him through narrow corridors in which the air lay heavy with the musty smell of dampness and rot, shadows stretching ominously, their fitful dance a grotesque ballet on the walls. In all of them, the boy looked about-the soft clinking of chainage echoing from afar, the quiet murmur of voices from unseen nooks.

They came to a storehouse area, with items piled high and the air thick with the heavy feeling of confinement. Miriel pointed to a discreet hatch hidden beneath a pile of crates. The boy's eyes went wide with surprise when Miriel lifted the cover aside, showing him a dark descent below. Wordlessly, he gestured for the boy to follow him into the hatch, and the boy did so-heavy with curiosity, yet reluctance.

As they descended, the air grew cooler and the sound of dripping water echoed back from ahead in the narrow corridor. At its end, a heavy metal door barred the way, with no handle, only a sliding peephole. Miriel knocked sharply; the sound reverberated ominously.

In an instant, the peephole opened, and a guard slave appeared on the other side, cautious. His eyes narrowed down to scrutinize the boy with suspicion and curiosity.

"Miriel," he acknowledged, his eyes darting back to the boy as he sized him up.

"Let us in," Miriel commanded, his voice firm yet civil. The guard nodded. hesitated a moment. then opened the door with a hesitant creak.

Inside, a cavernous space breathed odors from the mingled smells of sweat and fear. On the walls, the flickering of torches gave off amber lighting that outlined cages of many beasts and enslaved souls. The mind-swerving view was one of young, healthy men, with some bearing battle scars and women whose eyes told volumes of the horrors they had to face-all caged like animals.

His gaze wandered, curious and confused at the same time. He saw how brightly colored the beasts were and how dull the expressions of the slaves. The atmosphere was tinged with the promise of hopelessness, yet he felt no fear; instead, his soul wrapped itself around a deep curiosity about this reality.

Miriel ushered him further into the room, deeper, toward a chamber used for provisions. The room was dark and filled with food sacks containing grain, salted meats, and other supplies. What caught the boy's attention, however, was something entirely different: a set of metal slave collars openly displayed on a table.

The collars shone with a malevolent light in the torch's smolder, perfect and well-fashioned. They were heavy, cold, contrived to bind flesh not only but to dampen the spirits of their wearers. They had been intended for beasts at first, taming them, but became the tool of control the slavers used. Every collar stood as a grim reminder of captivity, a shackle that compelled obedience.

Miriel lifted one collar, surveying it with a mix of pride and dominance. He turned to the boy, his head at a slight tilt, as if gauging a reaction. The boy looked up, curious yet utterly unaware. For an instant, something flickered across Miriel's face; a hint of disdain leaked into his posture, preparing him for the task of placing this around the boy's neck.