In the pale light of dawn, a seven-year-old boy from the village of Aivir, as usual, went to feed the pigs with table scraps and some fodder. He watched the four pigs in their pen greedily feast on what they had been given.
Suddenly, the boy saw prisoners being led in chains to cages in a carriage near Count Korin's large house. The boy had heard rumors in the village that the count was using the prisoners for cruel purposes and torturing them. He wondered a little why he was getting rid of them now. But in the long run, he didn't attach much importance to it; after all, he was just a miserable wretch who would live in this village and probably die there.
Meanwhile, as the nameless boy and the other villagers went about their business or watched the prisoners being placed in cages, Henryk Zielczyk felt the sun, a sun he hadn't seen in a long time, blinding him with its brilliance.
"Don't delay." A cold female voice said from behind Henryk, who was gently pushed forward to prevent him from falling.
Selen's maid glared at the boy, signaling him not to delay.
"Okay, I'm coming, I'm coming," Henryk said in an irritated tone. "I've learned not to mess with you... Jesus, what's the point of all this stress?"
Once his eyes adjusted, Selen placed him in a cage at the end of the carriage next to Someryn, who was also his cellmate. Some time passed. Various races were in the cages. Humans, Elves, Demi-humans with animal ears and tails, and there were also some who looked like devils with red skin and black horns.
Next to the carriage where Henryk and Someryn were sitting, they saw four middle-aged Elves being placed in cages by a blue-haired elf maid. The older elves screamed at her and begged her for help, claiming they were of the same race, but this didn't convince her, and the elves who tried to physically resist were forced into cages by the girl, ending up with bruised faces.
Shortly later, when a knight in black armor serving Count Korin climbed into the driver's seat of the carriage they were sitting in, Henryk suddenly noticed another man getting into the next carriage. It was the same merchant who had said he sold things from another world. Most likely, this merchant was simply selling things from his own world.
The question was, how had these things gotten into this world?
As the young man saw it, the merchant had probably decided to make some extra money transporting prisoners. Another figure sat next to the merchant, but the man was blocking his view, and Henry still felt that his vision hadn't fully returned to normal after three weeks in the darkness.
The merchant and the black knight spent some time discussing the route, then both carriages set off, leaving the village of Aivir behind.
Henryk felt his bones ache with every jolt of the carriage as the journey progressed. The wood he sat on was cold and rough, and the metal bars of the cage around him were hard. After several hours of riding, the sun barely broke through the cloud-covered sky.
The prisoners sat in silence, looking as if they were all walking to their deaths. Maybe they were right.
"Hey Henryk, does your jaw still hurt?" Someryn murmured, sitting opposite him, leaning against the bars like a sack of potatoes. He wore only a tattered shirt.
Henryk looked at his companion, sighed, and touched the bruise on the back of his neck.
"Yes. But it doesn't hurt like before. Those damn maids... they ruined everything for me."
"Maids?" Someryn raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "Would you call the warriors who knocked you down like you were a drunken old man that?"
Henryk grimaced.
Someryn laughed harshly, though he immediately winced in pain again.
"At least you tried. Others only whimper. You attacked the great Count Jarrett Korin himself."
"I couldn't stand his voice." Henryk clenched his fist. "He was asking those questions again. That stupid smile of his. As if he considered himself someone else."
They were silent for a moment. The wagon wheels rumbled on the stones, and through the bars they could see the villages they passed in the distance – houses with clay roofs, a burnt haystack, a few peasants who didn't dare look at the convoy.
In the cages next to them sat creatures as wasted and despondent as they were. An elf with dirty white hair was cradling a ten-year-old child – a human child, which raised more questions than answers. Two men in one of the farther cages whispered to each other in a language Henryk didn't understand – it resembled the squawking of ravens.
"Where do you think we're going?" Henryk asked Someryna.
"Probably to Wojtyn," he replied, looking at the road they had already traveled and left behind. "Wojtyn is the nearest larger town Korin could do some serious business in. Ha! That bastard is too stingy to send his servant anywhere else because it would cost him more."
"Are you telling me we'll be sold to someone?"
"Most likely. We could also go to a real prison where they lock up non-humans who don't have a safe-conduct, but Korin wouldn't get much out of it."
"So what? We'll be someone's slaves?"
"Yeah. The upside is that at least we're men."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"That means if we're sold, it'll only be for some physical labor. Look, there are some pretty cute girls here. What do you think will happen to them when some nobleman who only thinks about fucking buys them?"
"Those girls will be screwed."
"That's right."
They were silent for the rest of the journey. Finally, the dark night fell. The Black Knight, the Merchant, and a short figure about the height of a child sat by the fire. Everyone in the cages could only dream of being near that warmth. They were used to the cold by now, but looking at the heat source, which was only a few meters away, was pure torture.
Finally, the black knight stood up and began giving each prisoner a small bowl of stew that looked like a gruel made by an amateur cook.
"Take this," the armored man said, handing Henryk the bowl of food. "You'll definitely need it."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Henryk asked, frowning.
"Never mind." The knight turned his head and walked back to the warm fire.
"Geez, what was he up to?" Henryk wondered, looking at the food.
"Don't forget you hit the Count earlier," Someryn reminded him, eating his stew with a wooden spoon. "That fat bastard usually reacts very quickly when insulted. I'd consider this his last meal."
"Great, so I'm already dead. I'd be dead anyway if I had to be someone's slave."
"I bet you're not the only one who faces this fate," Someryn said, looking at the other prisoners in their cages. "Nothing good awaits any of us. I pity them all. No one deserves to die and be damned by that bastard."
"He'll get what he deserves in the end," Henryk said seriously.
"And how can you be so sure?"
"Because I'll be the one to finish him off."
"Brave words, but they're just words anyway."
"..."
"We're all going to die. No matter what we do, weak dogs like us can only bark at people like Korin."
"That remains to be seen."
After this conversation, most of the prisoners tried to go to sleep, but the limited space in the cell and the cold wind made it difficult, but eventually everyone fell asleep.