The Trades

Chapter 1: The Chase

I grew up in a land called Verania, along the edges of the Chinta forests. My people had lived there for as long as anyone could remember, cut off from the rest of the world unless it involved the trading and selling of goods. We had a long history of fine crafting, plenty of pelts from hunting, and special poultices made from long cherished Elvish recipes; selling those goods had always kept us afloat, living simple yet happy lives. Well, until 100 years ago, that is.

That's when the city of Markal was built, expanding until the forest's resources became less plentiful and dangerously stretched. We began to suffer. That's when the Lords of Markal proposed a Trade...

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My feet pounded against the ground, snapping twigs and crunching leaves barely audible over my thundering heart in my ears. I could hear the frantic footsteps behind me, the baying of hounds as they chased my scent, getting closer despite my best efforts. There was no point in hiding, no point in trying to cover my tracks, though every fiber of my hunter trained mind screamed it. Those damned dogs knew where I was, the smell of my fear and sweat giving me away to their keen noses. These dogs were hunters, raised and trained to catch people just like me: Runners who refused the Trades.

Despite a lifetime of running through the lush forests of my home, hunting and gathering excursions that took days of almost endless trekking, I could feel myself starting to lose it. My muscles felt like they were on fire and multiple scrapes and scratches from the thick shrubbery were starting to add up and sting. I knew these forests like the back of my hand, and even I knew that I had little chance of getting through them in the dark. But my would-be captors were behind me and that gave me enough incentive to try.

"I won't!" I screamed, not knowing if they could hear me, but hoping they did. A rumble of laughter answered, followed by a ragged-breathed response:

"Run all you want, little girl, but all it'll do is make you tired when we drag you in." The voice was a lot closer than I thought and for a moment, I felt the pang of defeat in my heart. He was right. How could I ever hope to escape a Tracker and his damned hounds, even in my own forest? They were trained for this soul purpose. They lived for the chase...and they never came back empty handed.

I had seen it before, 10 years back when I was just eight. They had come for a Trade and one of the girls, Belethia, had run, refusing to go with them just as I did now. They dragged her kicking and screaming out of the woods by high sun, after only a few hours of chase. She had been a young, agile hunter, trained and raised just like me and they had captured her with ease, grinning as they dragged her from the woods by the rope that bound her hands. And I was next.

Though the memory brought feelings of defeat, I began to sprint with renewed vigor, refusing to give up, to give in to them. If they were going to take me, I was going to make them work for it. I may have been tired, but even a Tracker only had so much endurance and I was going to push him for all he was worth. I was not going down without a fight, damn it! I felt a tired grin form on my lips as I began to approach a clearing. I knew this spot well and all the traps that laid within.

It was a popular hunting spot for my clan, miles into the heart of the ever shrinking forest where wildlife was still thriving. I felt a stirring of new hope. A chance! If I could just make it to one of those pit falls-

My thought was cut off as a large shadow appeared in front of me, seemingly out of nowhere. I tried to scream, but was muffled as the massive being caught me in a bear hug, pinning my arms by my sides and my face against it's chest. I tried to kick and fight with all my remaining strength, but to no avail. My captor was built like a boulder and as he, I assumed it was a male, gave me a warning squeeze, I went limp for fear of being crushed. His grip loosened as he felt the fight leave my small, battered body and he pulled back enough to look down at my scratched and bloody face.

"Nice try," He said, his deep voice vibrating my chest, "I'm almost impressed. If I hadn't trapped you, I think you may have outrun Bregar, at least for a while."

I stared downwards, feeling no pride at the half-compliment. It didn't matter, I thought. I was caught. I heard a scuffling behind me and knew it must be the first tracker, Bregar as my captor had called him, catching up with his hounds. I could feel their cold noses sniffing at my legs and the wind from their wagging tails, proud as if they had been the ones to catch me. I normally loved animals, but these dogs I hated simply on principle. They were the enemy, whether they knew it or not.

"You're starting to get soft, Bregar." My captor laughed, shifting me in his arms so that the other Tracker could bind my hands behind me. "She gave you a run for your coin."

Bregar grumbled something under his breath as he jerked tightly on my bindings, blaming me for his hurt pride and digging the ropes painfully into my wrists. I made a sound of protest, only to receive a slap to the back of the head, causing stars to flash before my eyes.

"Shut up, you little bitch." He growled, jerking me back by my bindings and out of the grip of the other man. "Should know better than to run, you damned knife ear." He gave me another jerk, this one hard enough to make me lose my balance. I hit the hard dirt with an oomph, biting my tongue to keep a nasty reply to myself. I was in enough trouble as it was.

"Hey, now. Don't damage the merchandise. We're going to have a hard enough time explaining her condition without you adding more damage." The other man sounded more annoyed than concerned, as if he was talking about a piece of furniture.

"We'll just tell them the truth, Quent. The little cunt ran and got herself cut up by the trees. Right, bitch?" He gave my bindings another tug, grinning as I grimaced, the harsh rope digging into my already sore wrists.

Quent, just shook his head and started back towards the Elvish camp, muttering something about added expenses. Bregar dragged me roughly to my feet, sneering as I stumbled and almost fell again. "Wouldn't be so fucking tired if you hadn't run, knife eared cunt."

I kept my mouth shut even as my cheeks flushed with rage. I trudged behind him, a dog padding happily along on either side of me, tongues out as they panted. I didn't think my body could take much more abuse and a snarky comment would most certainly earn me another hit, added expenses or not. As tempting as it was to stomp on his obviously hurt pride from his inability to catch me himself, I knew better than to poke an angry bear. One day, I thought to myself, keeping my eyes focused on the ground. One day i'd get him back for this. I'd get them all back.

My thoughts flashed to my family, to the clan I had grown up with, and I had to fight the tears forming in my eyes. Growing up, they never mention the Trades to you. A dirty secret, hidden until you're old enough to be Traded. When I witnessed Belethia's capture, they had consoled me with lies and stories that I could no longer remember, hiding the truth again. Children weren't supposed to be at the Trading, but I had snuck in, curious as to where all the Elders went year after year.

By the time they saw me, it was too late. I had witnessed the whole thing, yet they had so easily convinced me it was nothing. Whether it was ancient magic or simple young naivety, I had believed my Elders, my 'Protectors', when they told me everything was alright. I was a damned fool. Selling us into sexual servitude...How could they?

Lost in my thoughts of betrayal, I didn't notice how much time had passed, nor that Bregar had been speaking to me, until a sharp pain brought me back to my nightmarish reality. It took me a moment to realize that he had just slapped me. The filter between my mind and mouth must have been stunned as well, because I reacted as one shouldn't whilst bound and in the company of two large men, one profoundly violent.

"Bastard!" That did it.

WHAM! I heard the connection of bone to bone before I felt the pain rush through my face, knocking my head to the side. As my vision began to narrow, I caught a glimpse of something familiar. My village. A flash of the impossibly long silver hair and cold, unfeeling grey eyes. Elvish eyes staring at me from a crowd of blurs, offering no support, no mercy, and no love.

"Elder..." She was the last thing I saw before the world went black, taking me into a dreamless sleep.