13. Javan

13

JAVAN

T he captain eyes me with a sneer, his fingers drumming against the hilt of his sword as my finger rests on the unlatched doors. I don't open them. Not yet.

"Why are you hesitating? What's inside the carriage?" he demands, irritation lacing his voice.

I keep my face neutral, leaning casually against the side of the wagon. Upon closer inspection, I recognize this dark elf. Chalan. A demon hunter. Disgust fills me, but I maintain an air of nonchalance.

"Why so eager, Captain? Afraid of a little surprise?" My tone is mocking, reveling in his growing impatience.

He narrows his eyes, clearly not amused. "Are you trying to hide something from me, merchant?"

"I've already made it past the checkpoint. Those kind guards already went through my carriage once, so forgive me if I'm trying to avoid another impromptu inspection."

"I don't care about your inconveniences. Orders are orders. Now, tell me, what's in the fucking carriage?"

"Nothing of importance. Just some, uh… ‘illegal’ merchandise. I'm sure you understand what I'm alluding to when I say that." I toss him a pouch of gold, but he doesn’t even glance at it. "Take it. Consider it a gift."

He steps closer, his breath hot against my face. "Money is nice, but I’d like to see what you’re hiding."

I arch an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth curling into a smirk. "Curiosity kills, Captain. But if you insist..." My fingers inch towards the door handle, teasing the possibility of revealing the carriage's contents. "Are you sure you want to peek inside?"

"Are you stupid? Can you not comprehend basic orders?" he retorts, narrowing his eyes. "You merchants have puny brains, that's well known, but you must lack one altogether."

My jaw tightens at his disrespect. If only he knew the truth about me, he wouldn't dare to open his vile mouth to say such words.

Still, I must admire his persistence. "Trust me, Captain. It’s just some goods better left unseen. How about another pouch?" I reach into my cloak, pulling out another heavy sack of gold.

The captain’s eyes narrow. "You think you can buy me off with gold? I want to inspect the inside of the carriage. Now."

I hold back a sneer. This is getting complicated. "Captain, how about something a bit more... unique?" I produce a shimmering stone, its surface pulsating with an eerie light. "A rare gem from the demon realm. Very hard to come by."

His eyes light up, the greed unmistakable. "Heh, that’s more like it." He takes the stone, examining it with keen interest, the eerie light casting strange shadows on his face. For a moment, he seems lost in the gem's otherworldly glow. "Alright, you can?—"

Before he can finish, I step closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Remember, Captain, some things are better left unseen. For your sake." His eyes dart back to mine, uncertainty flashing momentarily before the allure of the gem overwhelms his caution.

"Fine," he grumbles, pocketing the stone. "But if I find out you're hiding anything else, you and your human slave will pay dearly." He steps aside, allowing me to continue on my way.

Suddenly, a muffled squeak followed by a moan of agony erupts from inside the carriage. The captain’s head snaps toward the sound, before returning to me.

Chalan’s gaze drills into me, suspicion etched across his features. "What’s making that noise?" His hand inches toward his sword.

I grip mine tighter, ready to spring. "Merchandise," I say, my voice casual. "Sometimes it gets rowdy."

His lips curl into a grin, and he steps back. "I think I’ll check for myself."

My muscles tense, every fiber of my being ready to pounce. "Going back on your word, Captain? That's not necessary," I say, the threat barely veiled in my tone.

Chalan's eyes narrow, but he hesitates, weighing his options. "And if there's more than just merchandise in there?" he challenges, taking a half-step forward.

"That's not possible. I know what I'm carrying."

Ignoring me, he strides to the carriage, fingers gripping the handle. With a flick of his wrist, the door swings open. Inside, boxes and miscellaneous items are strewn about, an orchestrated chaos. I step closer, every nerve on edge, ready to spring into action in case he sees Kynor's unconscious body.

Then, something stirs. Catandria crawls out from behind a stack of crates, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. "Sorry, Master," she murmurs, bowing low, her voice trembling. "I hit my head. Made a fuss." Her body quivers, a stark contrast to the defiance I glimpsed in her eyes earlier.

But this is only a ruse.

She prostrates herself, knocking her head against the floor with each bow, the sound echoing in the confined space.

"Please, forgive me," she says, her voice trembling and barely above a whisper.

Chalan's eyes narrow, annoyance flashing in them like a spark ready to ignite. "Discipline your slave better," he snaps, turning his glare towards me. "Next time, I won't be so lenient." His words drip with disdain, and I can almost see the smug satisfaction behind his eyes, thinking he holds the upper hand.

I nod, giving a curt bow. "Of course, Captain. Thank you for your understanding."

He snorts, waving us off. "Close it up and get moving."

I motion for her to get back inside, closing the carriage door behind her. As we roll past the checkpoint, my fingers finally relax around the hilt of my sword. "Well done," I whisper through the partition.

"These fucking dark elves are bastards," she whispers back, her voice tinged with raw hatred. "I hope you understand why I want to annihilate them all."

"Soon, little one," I promise, my voice a low growl. "Their time will come, and we'll watch them fall together."