Chapter 12 Deplorable

Most of the big-ticket items were already gone, the wealthy guests lounged comfortably, conversations grew louder, and a few people had begun to make their way out.

Amos had pretty much given up looking for items worth buying. The cube was gone, and nothing else seemed to hold his attention.

"Well."

He stretched lazily.

"At least I got one thing."

The compass. Honestly, he considered that a victory.

The auctioneer shuffled through a stack of papers, looking unsure. He exchanged quick glances with a few staff members, and Amos picked up on it instantly. Something was off. The auctioneer cleared his throat.

"There is one more item." His tone sounded strange.

The hall grew a little quieter. Amos straightened in his seat as several attendants rolled a large metal cage onto the stage. The instant he saw it, his smile disappeared. Draped in a black cloth.

The cloth was pulled away.

The entire hall went silent.

A girl sat inside the cage or more accurately, a wolf demihuman girl. Her black hair hung messily over her face, with two wolf ears drooping weakly atop her head. A fluffy black tail curled around her protectively. She looked to be about thirteen or fourteen, with black hair, torn clothes, and a thin, fragile frame.

Chains bound her wrists, her head hanging low. She didn’t so much as flinch at the crowd, as if she’d already surrendered. The mood quickly turned uneasy, with even some nobles frowning, and the auctioneer looking hesitant.

"This individual was recently acquired from a frontier operation." Acquired? ACQUIRED?

Amos instantly despised the word. His grip on the armrest tightened. The girl stayed perfectly still. Then his vision sharpened, and he saw clearly.

The auctioneer continued speaking.

"Bidding will begin at five thousand gold." Nobody moved.

Several nobles shifted uneasily, while others quickly lost interest, and a few merchants seemed intrigued.

Something in Amos twisted uncomfortably—it was just plain human decency. Everything about the situation felt off, and that same uneasy feeling kept circling in his mind. His appraisal eyes had helped him judge items all night but every instinct he possessed screamed one thing now. She wasn't an item.

The auctioneer raised the hammer.

"Five thousand gold."

Then a merchant raised his paddle.

"Five thousand."

Another followed.

"Six thousand."

A noble.

"Seven thousand."

Amos’ expression grew darker, the bidding grating on his nerves because of what it stood for. His hand inched toward his paddle as he fixed his gaze on the stage, then, with calm resolve, he lifted it. The auctioneer looked toward VIP Room Seven.

"Ten thousand gold."

The entire hall turned to look. Amos leaned back in his chair, already certain of one thing. Whatever happened next, he was leaving this auction with her, no matter the cost.

***

Amos kept his paddle raised as the bidding carried on below. He barely paid attention, his thoughts drifting to a subject he had explored during countless hours in the library.

Slavery.  

It was a topic he despised.   Something he had wished would never exist in this world.   Yet, in typical fashion, fantasy worlds seemed to embrace it.  

"Stupid fucking world."

When he discovered it existed, he nearly started planning how many laws he would eventually have to rewrite if he ever inherited enough authority. Then he actually researched it.

The Empire had extremely strict regulations on slavery. Owners were legally required to provide food, shelter, medical care, and in some cases, basic education. Working conditions were monitored, and slaves could not simply be killed, mutilated, casually tortured, or worked to death. If an owner caused permanent injury without proper justification, the courts could impose severe penalties. Even nobles weren’t above the law—a count once lost his title over a notorious case, and another was reportedly executed decades earlier for murdering several slaves and trying to cover it up. The Empire saw slaves as property, but with certain rights. It sounded absurd and it was. The laws existed for practical reasons: a healthy slave was productive; a dead one wasn’t. The Empire’s concern was purely its economy.

Amos understood that. Didn't mean he liked it.

The legal protections only made sure slaves weren’t treated like animals, but they still weren’t seen as people and that was the real problem. A slave couldn’t just walk away, choose who to work for, or decide their own future. Someone else owned them, controlled their every move, and even decided where they slept. And Amos couldn’t stand it.

He looked down toward the stage again.

The black-haired girl sat quietly, as if none of it mattered anymore. That only made him even more uneasy.

"Fifteen thousand."

"Sixteen thousand."

The bids continued. Amos barely noticed.

His mind drifted far away. For thousands of years, people had found ways to decide others weren’t truly people different race, nation, class, status, bloodline, religion, anything at all to be a reason. The details may had shifted over time, but the reasoning never did. And somehow, every society managed to believe it was being perfectly reasonable.

Amos sighed.

The world he lived in now wasn't evil. Most nobles weren’t cruel, and most slave owners weren’t sadists. For most citizens, the system was just the way things were. They looked at the cage and simply saw a slave.

The auctioneer's voice echoed through the hall.

"Twenty thousand gold!"

The crowd murmured.

Amos refocused at last, his face calm and unreadable. The choice was already set in his mind, not out of any desire to save the world, and certainly not because he welcomed responsibility. In truth, he despised it.

"Annoying."

He picked up his paddle.

"Twenty thousand gold going once!"

The auctioneer's voice echoed through the hall.

The black-haired girl remained motionless inside the cage.

"Twenty thousand gold going twice!"

Amos raised his paddle one final time.

"Thirty thousand."

The price had already soared past what most would call reasonable, especially for a slave with an unknown past. The auctioneer’s eyes swept the crowd.

"SOLD!"

BANG!

The hammer fell, and the decision was made. The hall quickly returned to its usual rhythm as the next item was announced. Conversations picked up, servants bustled about, and life carried on as if nothing significant had occurred, as if someone hadn’t just been sold.

Amos sat silently, this victory felt unpleasant.

He had won. The girl would be turned over to him, the chains passed from one owner to another. The paperwork would be done, the Empire would approve it all. Everything legal, everything proper, everything normal. And somehow, that made it feel even worse.

Amos stared down at the auction stage.

Thirty thousand gold.

Earlier tonight, people had fought harder over trash. The mysterious cube had climbed to forty-five thousand. A worthless-looking piece of metal was valued higher than a living human being. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

His gaze wandered to the stagehands taking apart the cage. No one looked especially concerned. To them, this was nothing out of the ordinary. Somewhere in the Empire, it happened every day. The laws were there. The regulations were there. The system worked exactly as it was meant to.

Amos leaned back slowly.

"What a messed-up comparison."

The irony wasn't lost on him. The only reason her price had remained relatively low was because people viewed her as a slave.

An object to be possess.

Amos let out a slow breath, his eyes resting on the old compass. Three thousand gold for something worthless at least to anyone else. But he’d fought for it, because it meant something to him. Because he gave it value. Memories mattered. Meaning mattered. People mattered. Life mattered. Or at least, they should.

A servant approached carefully.

"Congratulations on your purchase, honored guest."

The words made Amos wince.

A purchase, huh?

"Yeah."

His voice sounded unusually flat.

"Congratulations to me."

The servant sensed something was wrong and wisely retreated.

Amos looked toward the preparation area where the girl would eventually be brought to him.

Then he glanced at the auction stage.