The group moved slowly and cautiously through the sea of faces that gathered around the still-ongoing auction.
Rin noticed that her body felt numb, as though the weight of what she'd endured had pressed down on her very soul.
The bustle of the market continued around her, a sharp contrast to the quiet chaos in her mind.
Lyndis, noticing her struggle, stepped forward, her eyes softening. "We need to go, Rin. Now."
Rin nodded slowly, but it felt as if she were moving through water-too slow, too far from reality.
The group began to weave through the crowd, the air thick with the lingering energy of the auction-men in heavy cloaks, the scent of metal and sweat, the occasional rattle of a chain or a muffled cry.
Then Rin saw them.
A pair of frail twin girls, no older than six, being dragged roughly by one of Karthis' men.
Their small legs stumbled beneath the weight of their shackles, their faces streaked with dirt and tears.
Rin froze. Her heart pounded as she watched them being pulled toward a shadowed alley, away from the crowd's view.
She wanted to run. To save them.
But Lyndis' voice came sharp and firm. "Sorry, Rin. We can't risk our safety." Her words were final, and Rin felt them cut deep-but the truth was undeniable. They were too exposed.
The slaver glanced down at the twins, his face twisting into a scowl. He sighed-annoyed, as if this task was beneath him, just another filthy errand dumped on him by someone higher up.
Then, he muttered, low but sharp, "Always me. Like I'm the damned butcher."
Rin heard it-barely. The market noise blurred into a dull hum, but those words slipped through, slicing into her thoughts like the blade in his hand.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he drew the knife from his belt.
The steel glinted cold in the fading light.
Rin's world shrank.
She closed her eyes, bracing for what she feared would come next. The twins' fate was sealed in the cruelest of ways, just like so many others.
But then-beneath Laya's arms-
Archus also saw everything.
Suddenly, a sharp crack of distant shouting pierced the noise. Then a mind-shattering headache rushed through him, a piercing ringing filled his ears.
His body twisted, his breath grew ragged.
His surroundings warped and twisted,
the world bending in and out of focus.
A flash. A memory.
A child. Fragile. Innocent.
The alley was dark and cold, the air thick with smoke and distant shouts.
The child's small hand reached out, trembling-
A silent plea for help.
Archus's heart hammered. He remembered rushing toward the child, desperate to save him, his breath ragged with urgency.
The memory was jagged, blurry around the edges-
He couldn't recall what happened next.
All he felt was the sharp sting of loss, the crushing weight of helplessness.
He hadn't saved the boy.
That truth cut deep-piercing through the haze of time and doubt.
And in that moment, the urgency to save became a cry that echoed inside him-
not aloud, but as if spoken directly into their minds.
"Save them."
The words echoed inside each of them, as if the very soul of the child in Laya's arms had spoken.
Lyndis staggered, eyes widening. Rin gasped, her hands trembling. Laya clutched Archus tighter, her breath caught in her throat.
It was a voice they'd all heard at once-clear, pleading, undeniably his.
Archus' eyes, wide and glassy, stared toward the alley. His tiny fists trembled. He didn't speak, yet his soul had screamed.
Rin felt the weight of it in her chest-crushing, suffocating, true.
Lyndis felt her heartbeat thunder in her ears. It wasn't just his plea-it awakened something long buried in her.
The world paused for one breath.
And then Lyndis made a choice, a choice she never thought she would make.
For years, Lyndis had chosen silence. Obedience. Survival. But not today.
Her eyes burned with resolve. Her hand reached for the wind.
"Wind Burst!"