The Grandest Item

Julius

Escape was impossible. Julius had been trying to think his way out but the den was heavily guarded.

There were two guards stationed in his cell and only one of them was being replaced everytime, preventing any opportunities during shifts. And two days ago when he was brought here, he saw men patrolling the whole complex. If he were to break out of his cell, he still had a mile to run. And he was not a fast runner. More so was he not good at striking people down.

They also took away his bird feather, sealing it in some kind of white clay jar with runes that made no sense to him. But it might have some kind of suppressing power about it because he had no news of Anya still. She said she would know where he was, so long as he kept the feather close by. Yet with the feather sealed off in a freaking magical jar, the chance of her coming for him was not even worth considering.

At times, he would think that this was his punishment. He caused Anastasia's death, sparing himself from turning into bird food. Now god had decided to exact justice for her.

Julius crouched in the farthest corner, a mess of thoughts running through his head.

He was not alone in the cell. There were others, twenty-three not counting himself, but they did not speak the same language as his. So he kept his tounge tied. They were of different skin colors: Light green, dark green, black, bluish, reddish, purplish. But they all had the same expressions painted on their faces. It was defeat and anger.

Among them though, a girl caught his attention. She had dark skin and braided hair. If she were tan, she would look like Noel whom he knew back home.

This black girl had been observing him. Whenever his eyes would flit towards her direction, he would find her looking at him. Even at the corner of his eyes, he could glimpse her staring.

Now as she bit on her nails, she threw him an intense gaze. Then slowly, she traced those same fingers flirtatiously down her lips, along the line of her neck, along the ridge of her clavicle, and down under her brassiere, disappearing in it.

Dismissing her as a mere lunatic, he buried himself in his knees and deep in his thoughts. He felt so helpless.

He woke up to the breathing of someone beside him. And alas it had to be her. Surprisingly, she was not groping him or something. She just sat beside him, her head leaning upon his shoulders.

Julius did not stir, lest he wake her up. Everyone was resting, some looking up at the ceiling, many sprawled on the ground, snoring loudly.

Suddenly, he noticed that her hair did not smell so bad. She had dirt on her body, yet she smelled like flowers freshly picked.

The guards burst in salute, fists over their heart. "Juru-mul!"

It woke her up and she caught him staring. He looked away but it was too late. She smirked. She was clearly toying with him.

From behind the bars, a red-skinned bulky man walked up. "Sojam dal," he ordered, voice cold and domineering. At once, the two guards along with three others stepped inside to point their guns around. "Holo! Holo! Jue holo!"

It might mean stand up because the prisoners got up to their feet and frantically filed outside. The guards directed them forward, using the blunt end of their guns to knudge them in an organized line. Julius was pushed aside and he suffered a hit on his shoulder from one of the guards. "Huekboro shi hiri!" The guard spat at him. From the sound of it, it was not a praise.

Then someone whispered in his ear, "Jih gimulde me..." When he looked behind him, it was the dark-skinned girl. Was it an endearment? An invitation? By the expression on her face, it could only have meant that she was hitting on him.

They were brought to a hall where galleries overlooked them from the walls. It was dark but he could see the figures moving about, chattering, laughing. A slim woman of gray skin color stepped onto the limelight that shone from a hole on the ceiling. When she coughed for their attention, all voices ceased.

All eyes and ears were on her as she looked up at them. "Es fulji pelo meil," she greeted them.

"Es yoso wan mesi," they greeted back.

She kept slurring alien language, explaining most likely what was going to happen. Julius was in utter confusion. But after sometime, her litany ended and the unseen figures in the galleries erupted in cheers, clapping their hands.

The soliers dragged a woman to the limelight. She kept cying and pleading, "Tuj! Ashel, ashel.."

But they flung her to the center where everyone could look down at her. Her figure was about thirty earth years old. Still looking strong and able.

The gray girl said something again and suddenly voices from the gallery shouted in response.

"Jum talga!" They yelled in chorus.

"Mol talga!" A fewer voices said.

"Kort!" Somebody followed up.

"Flisur!" A voice said.

"Flis talga!" The gray-skinned lady exclaimed, appearing surprised.

They seemed to be competing. It was suddenly evident to Julius what was happening.

They were being auctioned!

The poor woman was thus bought at a flis talga. If that was a big sum of money, Julius could only guess.

One after another, the prisoners were sold. The frail men, the sickly child. They all had prices. Then it was the turn of the lady with the dark complexion.

Julius had to admit that she looked rather gorgeous, even when she was dressed in tatters. She looked at him, smiling.

"Itlanajun!" Some voice blurted out. Whatever it meant, it could not be anything good. It was like a match lighting an entire field of oil. Everybody started to chant. "Itlanajun! Itlanajun!"

The auctioneer seemed ecstatic. Then with her own hands, she tore the dark-skinned girl's clothes off. She had a hard time peeling her pants but she succeeded and the girl's body was bare for everyone to gawk at, with a purple sheen that shone as the light focused upon her solely.

Julius, as much as he did not want to stare, could not help but look at her body. She turned to him, now void of the smile she used to give him. She looked grave and grim.

The auctioneer said, "Liffuj Kel-jo?" She seemed to be asking.

"Somel, kel-ruj," the girl said.

The bidding started at kort talga. Men's rough voices pierced the dank air in the hall. "Deju! Dej talga!"

"Flisur!"

"Flis tal kor iga!"

"Flis tal flis iga!"

"Kogul!"

"Kog tal dej iga!"

And it went on. Until a man raised it to a gafful. There must have been such a sudden jump in the bids because everyone just went silent.

"Jih ra teil gafful talga-jo, hun?" The lady auctioneer seemed to be asking, looking up at a particular area in the gallery. In the shadow, a hand raised.

"Ru," the voice said.

It must have meant yes because the auctioneer smiled in triumph and sent the dark-skinned girl off.

More followed. They sold for dej talga, flis talga, and numbers too foreign for Julius to take in. But as fingers pointed up in the air, he soon learned that a 'hallet' meant one, jumuy was two, molu was three, kort was four, deju was five and so on. Gafful was ten.

Julius was the last one. The main dish. The grand prize. He was afterall an earthling.

The auctioneer called for the guards to bring him over, and ungently they shoved him forward. The focused beam of light hurt his eyes that he covered his face. The auctioneer brought his hand harshly down. Everyone took in a gasp.

Julius was the only one to have a brown skin. He was the only one have such truly black hair. And he was shorter too compared to most of them.

The auctioneer turned him around, much to the bidders' satisfaction.

"Po yir urfling, jakimfudi holto kor talga!" The auctioneer said.

Upon speaking, the hall went crazy.

"Flis talga!" Julius now could understand that it translated to six.

"Kogul!" Seven.

"Sepre!" Eight.

"Jemmut!" Nine.

"Gafful!" Ten. The girl's price. He was about to exceed it.

"Gafuhal!" Eleven?

"Gafujum!"

And it went on. He was the grandest item tonight. They had been reserving their money for him. They were going all out.

Julius stopped paying attention to the numbers.

Suddenly, the commotion ceased.

"Hun Filik, ra me daji hal guyiashem jo?"

"Ru, hallet guyi."

It was the first time such a word was brought up. People began murmuring , unable to believe it. Julius did not know what was happening. He just knew that he was going to be sold off to an old man by the sound of the voice.

"Jumuy guyiashem," another said. It was the man who won the dark-skinned girl. He wanted Julius too.

"Jum guyi?" Somebody exclaimed in shock.

"Mol." It was the old man again.

"Kort." He competed.

Nobody else was bidding. It was a battle between these two.

"Sepre." Everybody gasped. The old man just doubled it.

The other contender kept silent. Julius was bought by the old man.