The icy night made Hitaru's limp, unconscious body tremble.
He was bound, his hands forced behind his back, tied to a wooden stake driven into the damp earth.
The cold did not seep only into his skin.
It crept into his bones.
He woke abruptly when a bucket of freezing water was dumped over him.
The impact stole his breath and forced him to gasp, though the sack covering his head gave him nothing but darkness in return.
Around him, other bodies stirred.
He was not alone.
—AAaaa… so cold…— he murmured, barely with a voice, more to convince himself that he was still alive than for anyone else to hear.
He tried to move.
His body did not respond as he expected.
He tried to sit up, but the attempt was clumsy, pathetic.
He twisted uselessly, like an animal stripped of any sense of up and down.
When he finally managed to sit, a rough hand yanked the sack away violently.
Moonlight struck him head-on.
—Who are you…? What do you want from me?— he asked, still disoriented.
He received no understandable answer.
Only guttural sounds, harsh noises, words he did not recognize.
In front of him stood a goblin.
Its skin was dark gray, sickly.
Its eyes, small and gleaming, watched him with a mix of mockery and indifference.
It wore gold earrings and a ring piercing its nose.
Like the others.
Hitaru went rigid.
Fear climbed from his stomach to his throat.
The goblin noticed his reaction and calmly stepped away, letting out a low, incomprehensible laugh as it tore the sack from another person further ahead.
Now, with his sight restored, Hitaru understood his situation.
He was tied to a post.
Not only him.
There were between twenty and thirty more people, lined up in a row.
Men, women… children.
The elderly.
Twelve of them were women.
Each stake had a goblin armed with a spear or bow standing in front of it.
None of them spoke his language.
Only growls, short orders, watchful stares.
The ground was damp, nearly muddy.
The wind carried a heavy smell, a mix of manure, sweat, and metal.
Breathing was hard.
Thinking was harder.
"This looks like a ritual," he thought.
He did not know why he was there.
He did not know how much time had passed.
The only thing that was clear was fear.
From the distance, weaving between improvised tents, a different figure appeared.
It walked slowly, with confidence.
Each step imposed silence.
It was a goblin larger than the others.
Much larger.
Hitaru compared it to his own height.
He was about 1.75 meters tall.
That thing… maybe 1.60, but its body was massive, dense, dominant.
A dark horn jutted from its left clavicle.
That made it unmistakable.
"The leader," he thought.
The atmosphere changed.
The other goblins tensed.
When it reached the center of the clearing, the leader raised its hands and spoke.
This time, Hitaru understood.
—My brothers and sisters. Today we gather, once again, to witness the hunt and the classification of these new human pets.
The crowd responded with shouts.
Some of excitement.
Others of mockery.
A goblin in front of Hitaru shouted something in its language and pointed at the women.
Its tone was eager.
Hitaru swallowed.
"Are they going to play with us…?"
"With them…?"
"Why did I come here…?"
He lowered his head.
Moved it slowly from side to side.
He regretted it.
Everything.
Having consumed that thing the day before.
Having kept walking.
Not stopping.
He felt a cold, calloused hand rest on his right shoulder.
He flinched.
He turned his head quickly and saw someone beside him.
A human.
His size.
He was not tied.
The stranger stared forward, serious.
—Calm down— he whispered—. They won't do anything to you because of your hand.
Hitaru blinked.
—How do you know…?
—Don't look at me— he replied without turning—. We don't want to draw attention.
Hitaru obeyed.
—All right… but don't leave. Tell me what's happening here— he begged—. And why aren't you tied up?
—I'm a pet— he said, without emotion—. Of my owner. But that doesn't matter now. What's happening here is—
A scream cut him off.
—Haaaaa…!
Both of them turned their gaze.
A middle-aged man, two stakes to Hitaru's left, was writhing in pain.
The leader stopped speaking.
So did the goblins.
The guard in front of the man raised his spear and slowly brought it closer to the wound on his thigh.
He thrust it in.
The screams filled the clearing.
The goblin withdrew and stabbed again, over and over, with cruel precision.
Hitaru felt nauseous.
He wanted to say something.
To shout.
To beg.
He felt the stranger's hand grip his arm.
He shook his head.
Hitaru closed his eyes.
Silence came all at once.
When he opened them, the man was dead.
A spear ran through his mouth, embedded in the stake.
Hitaru vomited.
Bile, remnants of food.
Others did the same.
Some did not.
The stranger patted his back softly.
The leader resumed speaking, smiling.
—After this small inconvenience… let us continue.
Hitaru breathed with difficulty.
—They won't… they won't do something like that to me?— he asked, trembling.
—If you don't do anything stupid, no— the other replied, without looking at him.
The speech continued.
—Present your prey. Tell me what you will do with them.
One by one, the goblins stepped forward.
The leader listened.
When it was the turn of the goblin in front of Hitaru, it spoke eagerly.
—Four this week, my general. One will fight. Another will be a slave. The other two… as well.
The crowd murmured.
—Show me your gladiator, Arendt— the leader ordered.
—Yes, my lord.
Arendt turned.
He pointed at Hitaru.
Hitaru's heart raced wildly.
He searched for the stranger with his eyes.
He was pale.
—He's injured, my Slork— the pet intervened—. His arm…
Arendt shoved him violently.
—Do you question my decision?
The human fell to the ground.
Hitaru, on his knees, felt something break inside him.
And then, as he turned, his gaze met hers.
A girl.
Beautiful.
He did not know why, but her gaze pierced him.
He looked away.
He could not hold it.
The man lay on the ground, clenching his teeth, but he said nothing more.
Behind Arendt, Hitaru saw the rest of the loot.
An unconscious man.
Two young women, chained to an enormous creature.
The beast was dark blue, almost blackish. Its body resembled that of an insect, with long, translucent wings like those of a dragonfly. Rigid antennae rose from its head. It was enormous. Unnatural.
Hitaru felt something shatter inside him.
Tears began to fall without him being able to stop them.
"This isn't real."
Arendt turned away. The guards began to move. The women were separated from the rest. The goblins spoke among themselves, excited, incomprehensible.
Hitaru did not look.
He did not want to.
But he heard it.
He lowered his head. Clenched his teeth.
"I'm not like them."
The thought did not comfort him.
It accused him.
—Do you want to do something for them?— the voice beside him whispered—. You'll have to fight anyway. If you shout "Challenge for a woman," you can save one.
Hitaru raised his head.
He saw one of them. Her eyes. The contained fear.
Something ignited. Not courage. Not heroism. Rage. Desperation.
—Challenge for a woman!!— he shouted.
The camp fell silent.
Arendt turned slowly. Smiled.
He walked toward Hitaru.
—I accept— he said, grabbing his face—. But if you lose… you will watch. And then you will die.
He released him.
Hitaru collapsed to the ground, trembling.
"If I'm going to die… let it at least mean something."