Captive

John's head was throbbing as he lay shackled to the wall of the large carriage. He had been badly beaten by the group of bandits that had captured him and his companions. His vision was blurry and he was struggling to stay conscious, drifting in and out of sleep as the carriage bumped and swayed along the road.

Through the haze, he could see Aria, one of his companions, sitting nearby. She was covered in soot and dirt, her normally bright green eyes dull with pain and exhaustion. John wanted to reach out and comfort her, but his hands were shackled and he couldn't even lift his head off the ground.

As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he became aware of other people in the carriage with them. They were all slaves, like him, captured by the bandits and being taken to who knows where. John could see the guards who had captured them, sitting at the front of the carriage, laughing and chatting as if they didn't have a care in the world.

One of the guards, Jesubamiro, caught John's eye and chuckled mockingly at him. John's anger flared, but he was too weak to do anything about it. All he could do was lay there, helpless and bruised, and hope for some kind of rescue.

Suddenly, the carriage came to a stop and John heard the sound of voices outside. The door was thrown open and a group of people rushed in, their faces filled with concern. They were healers, dressed in flowing robes of white and carrying strange, glowing crystals in their hands.

One of the healers approached John and placed a hand on his forehead, closing her eyes in concentration. Almost instantly, John felt a warm, soothing sensation wash over him and the pain in his head began to fade. The healers worked quickly, moving from person to person in the carriage, using their magic to heal their wounds and ease their pain.

As the healers worked, John could feel his strength returning. He sat up, taking in deep breaths of the fresh air coming in through the open door. He looked around and saw that Aria and the other slaves were also beginning to look better, their injuries healing under the ministrations of the healers.

John at this moment felt hope.

Backup had arrived and soon we will be free!

Or so he thought, until he saw the healers and Jesubamiro talking merrily.

John watched in disbelief as the healers worked on his injuries. He had thought they were there to help him and his companions, but as he looked around the carriage, he realized that they were actually working for the bandits. They were treating the slaves' injuries, not out of compassion, but so that they could be sold for a higher price.

The healers were rash and callous, not caring about the suffering of the people they were treating. They rushed from person to person, their magic only serving to temporarily ease the pain and heal the surface wounds. They didn't seem to care about the long-term well-being of the slaves, only about making a profit.

John's anger and disgust grew as he watched the healers work. He couldn't believe that they would use their abilities to further the goals of the bandits, rather than using them to truly help people. He vowed that, if he ever got the chance, he would use his own gifts to heal and help those in need, rather than exploiting them for personal gain.

As the healers finished their work and left the carriage, John couldn't help but feel a sense of despair. He was still a slave, shackled to the wall of the carriage, with no hope of escape. All he could do was wait and hope that one day, he would be able to break free and use his abilities to make a difference in the world.

John drifted back to sleep, with the carriage continuing its journey. Its path became better lit, transforming from a poor dirt path to a wide, spacious cobblestone road with many other carriages to it's side.

As the carriage pulled up to the gates of a mansion, John was barely conscious. The healers' magic had done little to alleviate the pain and exhaustion he was feeling, and he had drifted off into a restless sleep.

He was awakened by the sound of the door to the carriage opening and the guards shouting orders to the slaves. John's vision was still blurry, but he could make out the grand entrance to the mansion as the guards led them out of the carriage and up the steps.

They were in Basit, the largest city in Selsi, and John could see the bustling streets and towering buildings of the main district in the distance. But they were on the outskirts, at a mansion just outside the city centre. John could see wealthy people milling about, dressed in fine clothes and jewels, paying no attention to the slaves being led into the mansion.

John's heart sank as he realized where they were being taken. The mansion was a slave auction house, where wealthy buyers came to purchase human beings as property. John's anger and despair grew as he was led inside, shackled and battered, to be sold like a piece of merchandise.

He knew that he and his companion would be separated and sent to different parts of the country, to serve as labour or entertainment for their new masters. John's only hope was that somehow, someway, he would be able to escape and find his way back to freedom.

The slaves were led out of the carriage, their shackles clinking as they walked. They had been beaten and battered, their bodies bruised and sore from the long journey. They were led into a large prison, the floor covered in straw and the air thick with the smell of sweat and fear.

They were lined up on the stage, their chains rattling as they were forced to stand before the group of wealthy buyers who had come to purchase them. The auctioneer called out to the crowd, describing each slave's skills and abilities, trying to entice the highest bids.

As John was led onto the stage, the auctioneer called out to the crowd of buyers, "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a rare find - a strong and skilled fighter, with a quick mind and a fierce determination. This one will make an excellent addition to any household or army."

The buyers began to shout out offers, each trying to outbid the others. John stood on the stage, his shackles weighing heavy on his wrists, as the auctioneer continued to describe his supposed virtues.

"He has excellent stamina, ladies and gentlemen. He will work tirelessly for his master, day and night. And his fighting skills are unparalleled. With this one on your side, you will be sure to emerge victorious in any battle."

The auctioneer began to speak, describing John's skills and abilities in exaggerated terms, trying to entice the buyers to bid higher. John could see the greed in their eyes as they shouted out offers, each trying to outbid the others.

In the midst of the chaos, John's thoughts turned to Aria and the other slaves. He hoped that they were being treated better than he was, and that they would find some way to escape this nightmare.

As the bidding continued, John began to feel a glimmer of hope. He had always been a skilled fighter, and he knew that if he could just get his hands on a weapon, he could take down the guards and escape. He scanned the room, looking for a way out, when suddenly he saw a familiar face in the crowd.

It was Jesubamiro, one of the trio who had captured him and Aria. He was standing at the back of the room, a sly smile on his face as he watched the auction. John's anger boiled over at the sight of his enemy, and he made a split-second decision.

With a roar, he broke free of his shackles and lunged at Jesubamiro, tackling him to the ground.

As John lunged at Jesubamiro, he saw a group of magicians standing on the sidelines. They were dressed in flowing robes and carrying strange, glowing crystals in their hands. As he tackled Jesubamiro to the ground, the magicians sprang into action, constraining him with their magic.

Everything went blurry and dark as John felt himself being dragged and carried away. He could hear the sound of the auctioneer's voice in the distance, calling out the sale of Aria to a tall, black-haired woman.

Through the haze, John could feel himself being lifted and carried into another carriage. He struggled against his restraints, trying to break free and escape, but it was no use. The magicians' magic was too strong, and he was powerless to stop them.

As the carriage door closed and they began to move, John could only hope that Aria and the other slaves were being treated better than he was. He vowed to find a way to escape and reunite with his companionn, no matter what the cost.