Dreaming Red

"Greetings, honored merchants!" Speaker Reven said. "You have come to the best city in the world."

The group of slavers walked through the large, bannered city gateway, scowling at him as they approached. Evidently, they were newcomers to the Northern Third of Ryzayah.

"You are the guide that was appointed to us?" said the one leading them, a tall, black-haired, and muscular man. "A guardsmen told us about something like this."

"Exactly! My name is Speaker Reven. I'll be showing you around the city, helping you find the proper market for your wares. It's a big place, you see. We've found that helping newcomers find their way is a profitable affair for everyone. I see that you have humans in your carts, both young and old, male and female. Is there anything else you mean to sell?"

"Cheap jewelry. Household items," the slaver said. "I don't think we need a guide. We've always managed without—and we're not going to pay you a dime."

"Oh, I assure you, I don't want your money! All of my expenses are being paid for by the Lord Korreh Dremon and his wife, the lady Phyree! They are the rulers of the Northern Third. We live and breathe here by their grace. Anyway, I must insist on joining you. Esteemed merchants such as you and your group are not permitted to walk the city without a guide."

"That sounds like a whole lot of rubbish."

Speaker Reven kept the wide smile plastered on his face, though human garbage always did have a way of testing his nerves. "If you'd like to try your luck with the city guard," he said, "you may yet ask me to leave. Otherwise, please permit me to be of service to you, as is decreed by the lord and lady of the Northern Third."

"Scamming bastard," one of the other slavers said, walking up to the first one. "This is a shakedown."

Speaker Reven looked toward a pair of armed guardsmen standing beside a long banner, focusing on them for a moment. A flash of pain stabbed through his head, causing him to flinch, but right after, the two guardsmen looked his way and quickly started walking toward him.

Speaker Reven turned back toward the two pieces of garbage and smiled.

"Not a shakedown, a tax," the first one said. "Alright, fine then. We'll work with you if we don't have a choice. We need to get to the slave market. Know where it is?"

"Of course! Follow me," Speaker Reven said. He turned around, nodding to the two guardsmen, and led the slavers through the bustling streets of the Northern Third. They followed slowly, eyeing the passerby with suspicion as their horse-drawn carts with slaves rolled behind them.

They passed the welcoming area soon, pushing past the crowds, and made it to Freedom Square, a large marble plaza atop a small hill, surrounded by gilded columns and shrines to most of the world's various gods. A large statue in the center of it depicted a nude Aru, the god of freedom, delivering a devastating blow to the tyrant Cerazok. Below the statue, an old, run-down wooden staircase led underground to where the tyrant bled … according to legend, at least.

Speaker Reven walked up slowly to the statue, proud to see the huge crowds of men and women graciously parting to allow him and his followers access. Many smiled as they saw him and his retinue of garbage, others offered thanks to the various gods they favored, and guardsmen discreetly gathered up around them with practiced eloquence.

"This place truly is beautiful, don't you think?" Speaker Reven said to the head slaver, realizing he'd never asked the man's name. "Truly, a testament to the glory of the human spirit!"

"It's awful pretty, yeah," the man said. His voice was gruff. "Very expensive-looking. But I don't see a market."

"Fear not!" Speaker Reven said. "We will soon arrive at our destination."

"I hope so. I think we'd all like to be done with this by sunset. I'm done feeding those mewling kids."

Speaker Reven smiled and sauntered over to the statue of Aru, slowly becoming enveloped by the presence of the gods. He relaxed quickly. The breath in his mouth became warm, his feet became light, and all the problems of the world seemed to go away. It was as though a light had shone down on the world—everything just became so bright.

"Praised be our gods!" he shouted. "Praised be they all who bless and protect our home. Praised be their prophets, who speak with their words!"

"Hell, another religious nutcase…" one of the slavers behind him muttered. A few of the others murmured responses. "Where is the damned market?"

"Where have you brought us?"

"Bloody fanatic…"

Speaker Reven turned around and scowled at the slavers in front of him. He lifted his hands into the air and felt twenty little needles dig into his brain, biting him deeply and tearing out parts of his head. It hurt terribly. His vision clouded, agony flooded his thoughts, and he felt himself bleeding inside … but he kept his hands up. The gods demanded a price for their interventions—but they were worth the cost.

When his vision cleared up, he turned his gaze back on the slavers.

"You scum have no need for markets!" he shouted. "There is but one place in this world for garbage like you! Come hither!"

A blast of energy torrented out of his head, stunning both him and all the nearby slavers. The presence of the gods became overwhelming, reaching a fever pitch and causing the marbled ground under his feet to rumble and shake.

The slavers quickly grasped at their heads and began screaming in pain, staring down at the shaky ground. Then, after a few moments, they began to obey.

With wide eyes unseeing and downcast, they trudged towards Speaker Reven, muttering nonsense while spit drooled out of their mouths. Behind them, guardsmen rushed toward the cages carrying slaves, warning the people inside to stand back before pummeling the metal bars and doors with axes. The crowds gathered around on the plaza cheered loudly enough to deafen a thunderstorm. The former slaves walked out of their cages, startled and confused, but free.

"Blessed be the gods and their prophets!" speaker Reven shouted. "Blessed be the lord and lady Dremon, of the Northern Third!"

The crowd's cheering got louder and louder until the gilded marble columns shook as wildly as the ground, and speaker Reven heard the gods themselves command the people to stop before they could lose their hearing.

Everyone laughed heartily and embraced each other. Finally, Speaker Reven turned back to the vile human garbage, and he ordered it to go down to the creaky wooden stairway that led under the statue of Aru.

After the slavers had all disappeared into the darkness there, he closed the door behind them and locked it.

Feeling the gods' blessing, he leaned his head against the door. He heard the garbage scream in terror. Then … screeching.