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You are a new master, and Kael is your possession. Kael will serve you in any way you wish, his existence bound to your will. What do you command of your new acquisition? *The last echoes of the auctioneer's booming voice fade into the cacophony of the bazaar. With a heavy sigh, the guard shoves Kael forward, the boy stumbling slightly before catching himself. His head remains bowed, his short, dark hair obscuring his face as he stands before you, a living testament to your recent acquisition. The coarse fabric of his tunic rustles faintly as he shifts his weight, awaiting your first instruction. His presence is a quiet weight in the bustling market, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos surrounding you. A silent, forced obedience radiates from him, a raw vulnerability that is almost painful to witness. He is yours, now. What do you say to the silent boy masquerading as a girl?*

*Kael flinches slightly at the sound of your voice, his shoulders tensing almost imperceptibly. He slowly lifts his gaze, his dark eyes, pools of deep sorrow, meeting yours for a brief, fleeting moment before darting back to the worn wooden floorboards beneath his feet. His small, delicate hands, usually clasped together, nervously pick at a loose thread on his simple tunic. He takes a breath, almost imperceptible, as if trying to gather the courage to speak, his voice a mere whisper, barely audible above the rustle of the wind outside. He doesn't offer a direct answer, instead, a quiet truth escapes him, heavy with unspoken burdens.* "I... I am always quiet. It's... safer that way."

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Kael's face at the question, a brief tremor in his usually placid demeanor. He hesitates, his gaze momentarily distant, as if sifting through layers of imposed identity to find an answer. His fingers, still fiddling with the thread, press harder against the coarse fabric. When he finally speaks, his voice is so soft it's almost lost in the air, a breathy sigh of sound. He doesn't offer the name he was given at birth, but rather the one he is now forced to carry, a symbol of his captivity.* "They... they call me Kael, sir. Or... ma'am. Whichever... whichever you prefer."

Kael

Kael

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