59 Tears

59 Tears
(Eli's POV)

I don't remember anything from before becoming Maren's slave.

I've tried many times to recall, but only have a vague feeling - I once lived somewhere with salty wind, very wide water, and some kind of deep, continuous sound, like something breathing in the depths.

Martin was a beast tamer. Many of my scars came from him. He often complained that I was a half-blood mermaid.

"Not enough magical power, impure constitution. Such a nuisance."

Maren was my master who placed slave contracts on me. From that day, I had an invisible collar around my neck. I couldn't run, couldn't resist, couldn't say anything she didn't want to hear in her presence. Even death had to follow her orders.

Martin was good at gathering intelligence - which ruins had treasures, which tombs had valuable burial goods, which waters held sunken ancient ships. Maren would send me to scout these places. I walked ahead, stepping on ground that might hide mechanisms, crawling into caves that might harbor magical beasts, swimming through waterways with dangerous currents. I was injured, poisoned, bitten, nearly drowned, knocked unconscious by toxic fumes, swept away by underwater currents and smashed against stone walls... countless times I thought I would die and finally be free. But I didn't.

My mermaid constitution and magical power slowly healed me. Martin would whip me to get up and keep working.

This treasure location was in a place called Thorn Town.

The town wasn't large. Maren disguised me as a little boy, changed my hair color and features, put me in rough old clothes, and said: "You're now Eli. I'm your mother. You've been ill and I brought you here for treatment. Don't speak, don't move around, don't attract any attention."

I obeyed. I attended Thorn Town's festival wearing a fake smiling mask, walking through crowds. The festival was lively with music, lights, food aromas, children running about. Yet what attracted me most was a woman.

A young woman with curly hair, talking to someone beside her, holding a cup, smiling until her eyes curved. She emanated some irresistible aura.

I yearned to approach her.

I walked toward her as if enchanted, nearly falling into the river. A man named Kyle saved me - he seemed to be the young woman's lover.

The woman was called Ella.

This was Kyle's first time saving me. I didn't expect he would save me a second time.

Now I greedily wanted him to help save another mermaid. That poor mermaid child about to be auctioned - if we couldn't save him this time, he might become the next me.

"I'm willing to pay anything!" I pleaded desperately.

Kyle agreed: "I want your pearl tears."

Kyle made his demand. Fortunately, I could do it, even at the cost of my life.

The legend that mermaids' sincere tears turn into valuable pearls is false. Tears are tears - how could they become pearls?

The "pearl tears" Kyle spoke of were the core of mermaid magical power condensation, growing inside our bodies near the heart. With it, mermaids could live and use magic. Such a precious thing - each mermaid only has one. Without pearl tears, I would probably die soon.

No matter. As long as I could save that poor little mermaid, everything was worth it.

"Alright, I agree!" Trading my broken body for a young life - a very good deal.

We passed through twisted alleys into the black market auction house.

The underground auction house's light was dark purple, the air mixing rust and rotting wood smells. I felt mermaid magical fluctuations from the depths, close to my breathing rhythm.

The child was caged, curled in a corner, hair wet against his scalp, small shoulders hunched. When he saw me, his pupils dilated.

"Sister." I saw his lip movements.

Instantly, countless memory fragments flooded my mind.

I remembered some things. My mother was a mermaid imprisoned in an underground water dungeon. Those hateful humans tried to make mother pregnant, make her birth more mermaids. Afraid I'd suffer the same fate, she forcibly changed my gender but was badly injured herself... The child before me was obviously mother's child - my little brother.

I suppressed anger and sorrow, following Kyle's arrangements to find an opportunity to save my brother.

Kyle stood not far behind me, his hooded profile facing me. He wasn't looking toward the cage but at a pillar beside the auction platform, seemingly observing guard positions.

Following his gaze, I scanned around. The child's cage was in the northwest corner of the auction house backstage, separated from the main platform by two counters with four guards patrolling between. Their pace wasn't fast, but their routes overlapped, each person's field of vision intersecting at boundaries, leaving no obvious gaps. One guard wore a black magical device at his waist, about half a palm's size, with weak dark blue light patterns slowly flowing on its surface - probably some kind of alarm device.

Kyle slipped something small from his sleeve. I heard him whisper in my ear: "Count three pillars to the left. When you reach there, I'll act. While they're distracted, open the cage, take the child and run. Don't worry about anything else - leave it to me."

I nodded slightly, then stepped toward that direction.

When I reached the second pillar, I heard a crisp sound. Dark purple light flashed once toward the main platform, then dimmed. The crowd cried out in surprise as all four guards' attention was drawn there simultaneously.

I seized the opportunity, crouching low, sliding along the shelf edge. My left hand reached for the cage lock, twisted hard - the lock's iron core made an extremely soft friction sound, then popped open. The cage door opened a crack.

Just as the gap widened, my fingertip touched the cage's iron bars. An extremely faint magical fluctuation slid along the bar surface, touching my hand.

The alarm was triggered!

"Someone touched the auction goods!"

"Alert!"

"Surround the scene! Nothing leaves!"

Kyle's voice came from a few steps away: "Go quickly."

He emerged from shadows, standing at my side. Light fell on his shoulder - I saw him holding that small silver object between his fingers. It had changed color from silver-white to deep gray with scorched edges. He threw it away.

My brother in the cage raised his head. His eyelashes were wet, eyes particularly bright in the dark purple light. He reached out, gripping my fingers. I lifted him onto my back and turned to run.

But I hadn't expected the guards here to be so fast, cooperating seamlessly to quickly surround us.

We're finished! I silently gripped my brother's hand, afraid Kyle would abandon us and flee.

Thank the gods, he kept his promise.

Kyle dodged the guard's blade while his free hand grabbed the guard's scroll. The scroll made small cracking sounds in his palm as magical patterns stopped spreading when his fingers closed, then began contracting as if pushed back by some opposing force.

The guard hesitated. In that moment of doubt, Kyle's hand released the scroll and turned to the guard's neck. His movement was clean and efficient - the guard's weapon fell from his hands, hitting the floor tiles with a dull sound.

The crowd screamed and scattered. Blood spilled everywhere.

More guards poured in from both sides of the passage. The dark purple magical lamp overhead began flickering unstably, light and shadow jumping violently on walls, shadows stretching and distorting under our feet like countless dark tentacles converging toward one point.

Kyle didn't look back at me, but he knew where I was. His voice remained clear in the chaos: "Stay close to me."

I don't know how Kyle carved a path through this chaos. Just as we were about to escape the black market, a tremendous crash came from behind.

Kyle stopped. He turned to face the surging figures, his cloak hem slowly falling behind him.

His left hand rose before him, five fingers spread, palm outward. Through that palm's distance, I saw light flowing from between his fingers - a color between deep gray and silver-blue, like moonlight half-devoured by something, the remainder slowly dispersing. That light briefly condensed into an extremely bright point in his palm.

I felt danger. My brother pressed against me, trembling constantly - as was I.

Air currents spread from around Kyle's body with powerful waves, like some long-accumulated force instantly released. His hood was blown back by that air wave, revealing his entire face. A very faint mark appeared at his temple - not obvious, but when that silver-blue light illuminated his profile, the mark surfaced from beneath his skin like a plant suddenly blooming in moonlight, spreading from temple downward along his ear, branching into a thin line at his cheekbone, extending all the way to his jawline. Dark patterns emerged on his skin.

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

"Dark elf..."

"Dark elf! The dark elf from the wanted poster!"

"Catch him!"

I heard humans shouting excitedly.