To say Rall was uncomfortable would be an understatement. Before being brought on stage, he had a lot of time to think about his situation. His father, the only family he had, had been killed. Weeks after, when he had found another place to call "home", the Fog and the greed of men had taken it away. And now? The only thing he had in the world, his own person, was treated as an item to be sold among ancient trinkets and rare stones.

He was lost, he was scared, but most of all, he was angry. Angry at his father for dying with so many secrets, angry at the people of Korn for being cowards, angry at Sharyah for trying to justify her actions, angry at himself for being so weak.

When his turn on stage arrived, Rall silently followed the staff member. His rational mind took over, and he remembered what he had to do. He would survive, he would escape, he would live. There would be time to hate himself afterward.

Once on stage, he remained still, his face emotionless, which inadvertently made his emerald green eyes even more attractive. When the auctioneer announced his auction base, he also kept his cool. He could not even imagine ten billion gold coins, so he just didn't.

Nonetheless, that exorbitant amount of money attracted high bidders from both the chairs and the private rooms.

Twenty billion, thirty, fifty...

"One hundred billion!" Shouted an Opal Palace staff member with her paddle up in the air. She was just acting as a proxy for one of the private rooms, but everyone in the theater turned to stare daggers at her. Instantly she fell back in her chair, squashed by the looks of hundreds of heinous criminals.

The auctioneer was stunned for a moment too, but then he remembered his job.

"One hundred and one... One hundred and tw-"

"One hundred and fifty billion!" Shouted a young staff member in charge of a different private room.

The auctioneer waited for a second, then resumed. "One hundred fifty and one... One hundred fifty and two... One hundred fifty and thr-"

"One hundred and fifty-one billion!" Shouted back the first proxy.

"One hundred and fifty-one and one... one hundred and fifty-one and two..." he took a pause, purposely baiting another raise "...one hundred and fifty-one and... three." He lowered his small wooden hammer to seal the deal. "Sold, at the anonymous buyer from chair seventy, for one hundred fifty-one billion gold coins. Congratulations, I believe this is a record for the Opal Palace. Ladies and gentlemen, once again, thank you for participating in this event..."

While the auctioneer conducted the ending of the midnight auction, many different emotions ran through the theater room.

Thomas Fantino was smiling openly, his Family would keep a five percent commission from all auction sales. Lady Sharyah was smiling too, thinking how she had just become one of the wealthiest people in the world. Still, thinking about who had all that gold to burn, she was concerned about Rall's wellbeing. She just hoped she hadn't sent the boy into a den of wolves.

Conrad was devastated - he had just seen his dreams shatter in front of him. But then he remembered his purpose, and determination returned in his eyes. "Hopp, are you ready to do something stupid with me?"

"Always, sir," the butler said with a mischievous smile.

Rall had remained stoic. All these people really thought that he had become "property" to another person. But he would not submit. He would never stop searching for a way to escape.

Then there were the others, the crime lords and the smugglers, the slavers and the thieves, the hitmen and the dark artists. No one reached the seats of that theater without being either adventurous, crazy, or a mixture of both. Schemes and plots bubbled in their minds, designed to strike the moment the kid and the money would leave the perimeter of the Opal Palace.

Like Rall was coming to understand, no person in this world could hold onto something they could not protect.

***

Ten minutes after the end of the auction, two tall knights in full plate armor came to retrieve Rall. With their faces covered by shining silver helms, the only hint the boy got of his buyer's identity was a small symbol of a white sun on their capes. But he did not have time to scan his memory.

The knights dragged the boy through the corridors, often yanking his chains forcefully. "Please, slow down," Rall pleaded.

When he did, the knights stopped, then one of them turned with a very rigid, almost mechanical movement and gave him a painful backhanded slap. The metal gloves drew blood, biting on the baby fat still present on the boy's cheek.

Rall fell on the hard marble, and tears started forming in his eyes. With a show of violence so sudden, even his Fairylight had started pulsing protectively. But the knights did not care. They turned around and started dragging him on the floor, leaving a small trail of blood on the pavement. Chained up as he was, Rall was not able to get up on the move. He just thanked the gods that the marble was smooth and slippery.

Every time they would cross someone in the villa's corridors, the knights would ignore their confused look. Who in the world could take something they spent billions of gold on and treat it like a sack of potatoes? That question crossed the minds of many. That list was definitely short, and many of the more knowledgeable onlookers already had their theories.

At some point, the knights' path had crossed with Lady Sharyah, who was headed towards Thomas Fantino's office to 'invest' her newfound money. She glanced at the state of the poor boy, but she still held her cold expression. If he wanted to survive, he would have to do it by himself.

Good luck, she thought. Rall watched her turn her back to him, and his insides started boiling in rage.

After twenty minutes of being dragged on the floor, the knights stopped before a massive armored door. They were now in the part of the apartments reserved for anonymous bidders. Only Thomas Fantino himself and a couple other of his most trusted knew the identity of those lodging in this section of the Palace. During the annual auction, no external visitors were allowed - instant death would be the punishment for trespassing. Complex alchemical formations lined the outside walls, the ceiling, and even the ground underneath the building so that no unwanted eyes could look inside.

Rall used the moment of respite to stand up but then fell again when the knights abruptly resumed their march. Finally, they arrived at their destination, so they knocked on an armored iron door and threw the boy in once it was open.

The interiors of the apartment were just as lavishly decorated as the corridors of the villa. Gold, jade, marble, and gems, all of the best quality, occupied every corner leaving no space for a window. Furthermore, those who resided in the residence had brought their own precious decorations. One could not turn their head around, that they would see tens of white sun symbols on flags, banners, armors, plates, clothes.

Right in front of Rall was a large, fat kid around his age who sat sprawled on a plush couch. His hair was white, as were his eyebrows, and even his skin was as pale as snow. His eyes and nose were pointy, like those of a bird. On his back sat a pair of underdeveloped white-feathered wings, which often flapped ineffectively. From those features, Rall recognized him as a member of the Avians, winged people that lived in the floating islands in the East of the Continent. Three beautiful female attendants constantly fed the boy pieces of exotic fruits, their silky dresses covering nothing but their most intimate places. They were not Avians, but women of Merfolk blood - spots of light blue fishy scales decorated their arms and legs while their hands and feet were finned.

One thousand years ago, when the Fog had first assaulted the Continent, the Avian tribes were one of few that were not affected. From their villages on the floating isles of Motu Rere, hundreds of meters over the Eastern Ocean, they saw the destruction caused by the dreadful mist.

For centuries they had lived in harmony with the Merfolk of Motu Totohu, but, after the Fog passed, the mermaids and mermen struggled to survive. Thus, they begged the Avians for salvation.

Like all raptors, the Avians were famous for being opportunistic people, so they agreed to help the Merfolk in exchange for their eternal servitude. The pact was sealed, and soon, large pools were created on Motu Rere. The Merfolk had traded their lives for their freedom.

One attendant, a slim tall Avian with grey hair and grey wings, looked at Rall like he was looking at an ant. "Rejoice, human! You are in the presence of the White Sun, the Prince of all Skies, heir to the throne of Motu Rere, His Highness Ra Ma Aeto." As he said that, Rall was in the middle of standing up.

"How dare you not kneel, inferior troglodyte!" Shouted the attendant. Instantly, one of the knights dashed behind Rall and tripped him over. Then the knight pushed the boy's forehead on the floor with his foot. The boy was unable to resist, the chains limiting his range of movement.

Once again, Rall's Fairylight shook and pulsed.

Ra Ma, still occupied with tasting the colorful fruit and feeling the suppleness of one of his attendant's butt, noticed the white Fairylight and shrieked. With a high-pitched voice that made the crystals in the room tremble, he exclaimed something in his native tongue. Rall knew many of the main languages used in the Continent, thanks to his father's lessons and the miracles of the Ancient Code, but not one used so far East.

The attendant listened to the fat boy's words, then once again looked at Rall. This time, there was hatred in his eyes.

"Human! You are not worthy of our Prince's benevolence, but he is as magnanimous as he is beautiful. I will thus tell you why you are here. You have offended the Prince of the Sky, named White Sun by his father, the King of all Skies. Your Fairylight dares steal the brilliance of our Prince's name, so he has chosen to buy your life and end it on the highest altar of Motu Rare. Be grateful, for no human has dared touch the floating isles in five hundred years!"

Rall's face, squashed on the floor by the knight's foot, contorted in an expression of astonishment. He played the attendant's words over and over in his head, but they were just unbelievable. He knew the Avians were filthy rich and proverbially snooty, but he could not believe their prince had just paid that exorbitant sum just to kill him. Once again, anger and frustration boiled in the kid's body, but as the knight's foot moved from his head, he remained silent. The time for his words would come, but first, he had to survive.

One of the knights grabbed his head and put a black sack over it, which again startled Rall. "You are not worthy of seeing the brilliance of His Highness," explained the attendant with disdain in his voice. "Your eyes will see nothing but darkness until the moment of your death. Bring him away, his light is distracting the Prince from his snack!"

Once more, the knights yanked him away. At this point, the bruises on Rall's body were starting to hurt.