A world of squalor paraded before young Talus’ eyes, blinking in and out of existence behind the wooden bars of his cage. Nobles floated along, oblivious, uncaring, or both. Merchants zipped this way and that, urgently striving and conniving. Peasants skirted the edges, ever eager to simply go unnoticed.

The barker above him droned on, “Rat caste boy for sale! Strong bones, good muscles, only in captivity a month. Make an offer else he be taken quick.”

For a small finder’s fee two fortnights ago his uncle had allowed the trader to take him in his sleep. For the price of a few nights of grog he’d lost his freedom forever, all strings to familial love severed by boat’s journey.

Talus cursed his own tear as it carved a muddy path down his cheek.

“I will not forget you,” he rasped, partly up at the barker, partly to his uncle now over a boundless sea, and partly to his own ancestors, a once proud people.

The barker turned to snarl a threat but stopped as an angel approached, divinity in female form.