The Precious Commodity

Elian stood in the center of the dressing room, his body still as the attendants fluttered around him.

Their fingers worked with precision, draping him in silks so fine they felt like whispers against his skin.

There was a tension in the air, an undercurrent of urgency that hadn't been there before. The realization of who he was, or rather, what he was, had sent ripples through the Pavilion.

The attendants, usually so detached, now handled him with reverence, their hands trembling slightly as they applied the finishing touches.

Elian caught sight of himself in the mirror, a figure draped in luxury, almost unrecognizable from the boy who had been dragged into this place weeks ago.

But beneath the surface, his heart was pounding. He knew what was coming. He had to keep his emotions in check.

As one of the attendants reached to adjust his arm, her fingers brushed against the half-pendant tied around it with a piece of rope. The rough rope was a stark contrast to the finery he was now adorned with. The attendant hesitated, her eyes questioning as she moved to untie it.

"Please," Elian's voice cut through the quiet, barely more than a whisper. "I need to keep it."

Madam Lula, who had been watching from the closely with her sharp eyes, stepped forward. Her presence commanded the room, and the attendants froze in place. She reached out with a delicate, practiced hand, untying the rope and holding the pendant up to the light. Her gaze lingered on it, her eyes narrowing in recognition.

"What is this?" she asked, though it was clear she already knew the answer.

Elian's stomach twisted into knots as he watched her turn the pendant over in her hand. He knew exactly what it meant. The memories of the original Elian, the boy whose body he now inhabited. The pendant was more than just a trinket; it was the last connection to a life stolen from both of them.

"It belonged to someone important," Elian replied, choosing his words carefully. He knew he couldn't afford to let her see how much it meant to him - or should he said the original Elian.

Madam Lula's lips curved into a cold smile as realization dawned on her. "Ireen," she murmured, the name slipping from her tongue like a bitter memory.

"So, it's true. She was your mother." She paused, a calculating glint in her eye as she looked him up and down, taking in the full weight of the revelation. "How ironic that you ended up here, just like she did. It seems fate has a twisted sense of humor."

Elian's pulse quickened, but he forced himself to remain calm. He knew Ireen's story, how she had left this very place, how she had thought having a child with a noble will set her free. But now, here he was, her son, caught in the same web she had once been ensnared in.

Madam Lula handed the pendant back to him with a chilling smirk. "Keep it, I'm letting you keep it because you're special" she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "But remember, Elian, you belong to me now. Everything you are, everything you were, is mine. And don't wear that when you are serving any of the Lords."

Elian's fingers trembled as he retied the pendant around his arm. The weight of it felt different now, heavier somehow, as if it was not just a piece of jewelry, but a chain binding him to this new life. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the fear at bay.

Madam Lula's expression softened, though her eyes remained hard as stone. She stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from his face with a tenderness that belied her true nature. "You're special, Elian," she whispered, her voice almost soothing. "More special than you could ever imagine. And I'm going to make sure you're treated like the treasure you are."

The attendants resumed their work, their movements more careful, almost reverent. Elian felt their hands on him, adjusting the fabric, applying the final touches to his makeup. But his mind was elsewhere, spinning with the implications of Madam Lula's words.

When they finally stepped back, Elian looked at himself in the mirror. The reflection that stared back at him was that of a stranger, draped in silk, painted in delicate colors, yet hollow behind the eeyes

The boy who had been sold, beaten, and trained was gone, replaced by a figure crafted for the pleasure of others. It was a transformation that chilled him to his core.

Madam Lula clapped her hands, breaking the silence. "Come, Elian," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It's time for you to take your place among the stars of the Pavilion."

Elian's body moved on autopilot, rising from the chair and following her out of the dressing room.

The scent of roses and the luxurious surroundings faded into the background as he walked, replaced by the cold certainty that his life was no longer his own. He was no longer just a boy; he was a Ferre, a rare and precious commodity, something to be coveted, used, and eventually discarded.

Madam Lula led him through the winding halls of the Pavilion until they reached a set of intricately carved double doors.

She pushed them open to reveal a lavishly decorated chamber, more extravagant than any room Elian had seen before. The walls were lined with rich drapes, the floor covered in plush rugs, and the bed in the center was draped in the finest fabrics.

"This room is yours now," Madam Lula said, her voice soft but commanding. "Only the best stay here, and you, my dear, are the best. But with this privilege comes great responsibility. You must be perfect in every way."

Elian nodded, the weight of her words settling over him like a shroud. This room, with all its beauty and luxury, was nothing more than a gilded cage. It was a symbol of his new status, but also a reminder that he was no longer a person, but a product, a treasure to be displayed, to be sold to the highest bidder.

Madam Lula lingered at the door, her gaze piercing as she watched him. "Remember, Elian," she said softly, almost kindly. "You belong to me."

With that, she turned and left, the door closing behind her with a soft click. Elian was alone in his new room, surrounded by luxury but feeling more trapped than ever.