Prince Yuma of Tsukamo hadn't had so much fun in his entire life. Every time they docked in another port, it was like landing in a different world. Everywhere there were crowds of people, dressed indifferent clothes, speaking in different accents, and selling different things. An arsenal of smells assaulted Yuma's nose and, his mouth watering, he went in search of something delicious. Emperor Kazuma had planned this trip for Yuma, and his son had enjoyed every moment of it. He had brought all his friends along with him- Tori, Bronk, Caswell, Cat, and Flip.

The journey was an adventure, and Yuma's curious nature couldn't get enough of it. There had been some things he didn't quite understand, though. For instance, before this trip, the Tsukamonian Prince had never seen a slave market. He had learned more about the evil institution in the past three months than he ever cared to know. How could anyone ever consider someone else their property, like a cow or a horse? How could they not see that it was wrong?

Yuma had decided that when he was older, he was going to get rid of slavery here in the Southern Isles. He had asked his father why he hadn't come in with an army already to help the slaves. Slavery was illegal in Tsukamo, and Emperor Kazuma made sure it stayed that way back there, so why couldn't he do the same here? Yuma's father had explained that the Southern Isles didn't come into his jurisdiction- Yuma had had to ask him what that meant- and therefore he couldn't just barge in and start ordering the people here around.

Yuma had found a way around this problem for himself, though. Kari would be the ruler of Tsukamo, not him, so when he was older it wouldn't matter either way. He would come back here with his friends and some soldiers and fix the problems himself, and the Southern Isles wouldn't be able to say that he had no jurisdiction there because he wasn't a ruler in the first place. Tori had told him that it didn't work that way, buy Yuma didn't see why not.

He had also made a note to bring some Southern Isles chefs back- if they wanted to- to the Tsukamonian palace to work as cooks there. There were some awesome dishes in this place. Caswell said the Southern Isles had the greatest variety of spices in Heartland and Baria combined.

"Yuma! Wait for us!" Bronk called out as his friend took off in the direction of the food market.

"Always following his stomach," Tori grumbled under her breath. Yuma, Bronk, Tori, Caswell, Flip, and Cat had each been given money and allowed the explore the port on their own this first evening, while the grown-ups found a suitable docking place with reasonable prices. Yuma's allowance was a little bit bigger than the others', since he was royalty, and it usually all got spent on food.

Bronk, too, enjoyed the food stalls, also picking up ingredients to experiment with in the ship's galley. The girls were impatient to see the jewelry booths. Flip bought anything that looked expensive, and Caswell took a long time to weight the pros and cons of each purchase. They were an interesting group, no doubt, but the vendors were always glad to take their gold.

Bronk, Caswell, and Flip were soon finished and ready to accompany the girls to see the jewelry, but Yuma didn't want to go yet. "Just a little bit longer?" he pleaded.

"Any longer and you'll be too full to make it back to the ship." Tori retorted. "Now, move it!" She grabbed him by the ear and dragged him away from the food booths.

"Ow! Hey, it's attached, ya know!" He complained. Only Tori could get away with treating the Prince of Tsukamo like that, and his other friends knew it. Grinning, they followed along behind. Tori soon forgot her annoyance, though; when she saw all the jewelry laid out on the tables in the market stalls. She and Cathy oohed and ahhed at the strings of beads and delicate bracelets, while Bronk stood by politely. Caswell took an interest in the pearls (he'd always thought his mother looked particularly pretty in pearls) and Flip began to hunt down some silver and gold trinkets to add to his collection.

As his friends made their purchases, Yuma hung back and sulked. That Tori! I would have come in a little bit. And I really wanted to try that grilled kabob. While he was moping, an idea came to him. I could go back right now. They're so busy they won't notice. I could go and be back before they even realize I'd gone. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had occurred to him. His father and Lord Kay had given strict instructions that the six friends were to stay together. But, the more he considered it, the more slipping away back to the food stands sounded like a good idea. After all, they didn't wait for me when I wasn't done, so why should I hand around waiting for them? I'll only be gone a minute, two at the most.

With that thought, he slowly backed away from his occupied friends and turned back towards the way they had come. The problem was he had been too busy whining to Tori that he hadn't paid attention much attention to the way they had come. It wasn't long before he was lost. "Great," Yuma muttered. "I was sure it was around here somewhere." He had paused to consider where to go from here- wherever here was- when he noticed a great commotion a little beyond the market. He hesitated briefly, but his curious nature won out and he began following the crowd.

They were gathering around something, but since he was shorter than most of the people surrounding him, he couldn't see what it was. "Excuse me," Yuma said, trying to push his way through.

"Wait your turn, kid!" Someone shouted at him.

"But I can't even see what's going on!" Yuma protested. The person turned towards him, about to shout at him again, but when they took note of the expensive clothing the boy was wearing, and the gold chain that held his cloak around his shoulders.

"My apologies," the man said, giving a toothy smile. "Hey! Let this one through! He can't get a good look at the merchandise." The other islanders noticed the obviously rich boy among them and made way for him, some of them looking polite, some awed, and some hostile. Yuma grinned back at all of them, enjoying being treated by a celebrity. He reached the front of the crowd and was puzzled when all he saw was an empty stage. Maybe they're going to put on a show. No, the man back there definitely said "merchandise." I wonder what they're selling. Hopefully it's food.

A man got up on the stage and began to ring a bell loudly, demanding everyone's attention. Yuma was close enough that it hurt, and he clamped his hands over his ears. When the crowd had fallen silent, the man began to speak. "All right, ladies and gentlemen, let's get this auction started! The first group to be presented will be grown males."

Cool, Yuma thought. They're selling animals. I could get a kitten, if they have one, and give it to Cat to look after. But, to Yuma's horror, a man, not a beast, was pushed out onto the stage. There was a metal collar around his neck, and the chain attached to it was linked to the shackles around his wrists. It's a slave auction! Yuma felt sick, and desperately turned away, intent on running as far as he could from this place. But the crowd wouldn't part for him again, especially when they couldn't see a reason to. So Yuma had to settle for standing there with his eyes squeezed shut. Bile rose in his throat as he listened to the auctioneer describe the man on the stage like he would a piece of livestock. Merchandise, the man in the back had called them. And they thought he wanted to be here, to gawk at these chained people.

Time seemed to slow down as each slave was sold. Some struggled, others remained silent. Not a moment too soon, at least in Yuma's mind, the auctioneer put down the gavel and began to massage the hand that had been continuously pounding it for the last forty-five minutes. "I'm afraid that's all for grown-up males, folks," he said, and for a moment Yuma's heart felt a bit lighter. "Now, let's move on to the grown females." The enormous weight that begun to lift off of Yuma's shoulders dropped down again, heavier this time. It wasn't over yet. The first woman was dragged out on stage, cowering in front of the crowd like a frightened animal.

It took even longer this time, as the men of the Southern Isle vigorously attempted to outbid each other. Yuma knew that his friends would have missed him by now. What would they think if they knew what he was watching right now? What he had been eager to investigate?

By the time all the women had been sold, Yuma was sure his face was turning green. It had to be over now, right? Wrong. "Our third group of the night will be younger males- children." Children? Yuma blanched. They sold children at these things? He wanted to go home, but he had no choice but to remain at the front of the crowd, not daring to raise his head for fear of what he might see.

The prince probably never would have raised his head if it hadn't been for what the auctioneer said about the fourth boy to be sold. "This one is a rare find indeed. He is a westerner, brought all the way from Baria…" Yuma's attention was caught. A Barian? He had never seen a Barian before- well, except for Rio and Iris, but they were both girls- and before he knew what he was doing, he was raising his head to look. The boy would have been a bit taller than him if they had been side by side, and his skin was a pale shade of ivory, just like Rio's. Yuma could see the boy's face; his head was bowed and his purple, tentacle-like hair fell forward, hiding his features from view.

Nevertheless, there was something undoubtedly familiar about the boy. Yuma couldn't quite place what it was, but he was sure he had seen him somewhere before. There was something…incredibly sad about the way the boy stood, utterly defeated, and Yuma's tender heart went out to him. I should buy him. The thought was unbidden. I can't do that! It's wrong! But then…wouldn't it also be wrong to leave him to these people, to not help him when I can? His father always said that not helping a person was the same as hurting them. Yuma's hands went to the pouch he carried the money he had been given in and quickly counted it. Half of it was gone, but surely 100 gold pieces would be enough.

"100 gold pieces!" He called out without pausing to think it through.

"Sold, to the young man in the front row!" the auctioneer cried.

The slave knew that they were bidding for him. He was going to get a new master. He really hoped they would hurry up and get on with it.

His stomach was clenched with hunger and he bit his lip to stop himself from reacting to it. His feet were killing him from standing still for so long, and his neck ached from looking down, not to mention the chain attached to the iron collar around his neck was heavy and weighed him down. He didn't dare budge or lift his head, though. He knew the punishment for that.

His wrists were shackled together, the hard iron rubbing them raw, and the chain that hung from his collar was attached to the chain that connected the manacles. He really, really hoped the bidding would be over soon. Maybe his new master would take pity on him and let him sit down, or even take the chains off.

"100 gold pieces!" A bidder called out. The crowd went silent. The bid was high- extremely high- which was what had caught their attention, but the slave had noticed something else. The voice that had made the bid…it was young, and innocent, and…full of energy. The slave had never known one person could have so much enthusiasm.

Despite knowing the punishment for looking his betters in the eye, the slave couldn't help himself. He glanced up, and was startled by the red eyes, brimming with life, that were looking straight at him.

Yuma was surprised when the boy looked up at him. His eyes immediately caught the prince's attention. They were a deep cerulean blue, almost indigo, but the color wasn't what had Yuma drawn to them. It was the dead, empty look in them that seemed to hit him in the chest, knocking the air out of him. His father also said that the eyes were the windows to the soul, and if that was the boy's soul, Yuma knew he had to help him.

A blow to the head reminded the slave of his place, and he quickly looked down again. "Hey!" Yuma protested, snapped out of his thoughts.

"My apologies, sir," the auctioneer said. "Just reminding him of his place. I didn't mean to damage your property." He held out his hand. "The payment, please, sir."

"Oh, yeah." Yuma handed him his money pouch, deciding to let the property comment go since he didn't know what to say about it anyway. It took the auctioneer a while to count the one hundred gold pieces, since he wasn't going to just take this strange boy at his word. When he was satisfied, the man scooped the gold back into the pouch, labeled it with the slave's number (to make sure the money got back to the right trader) and set it aside.

"He's all yours." Yuma said thankyou to be polite, but he really didn't think this man and these circumstances deserved it. The slave was yanked off of the auction block by his chain and dragged to his new owner. He wasn't resisting- he knew better- but his legs had gone numb from standing still for so long, and he was having trouble walking.

The slave had been surprised when his former master had decided to sell him. Apparently he had debts he had to pay off and had no choice, but he hadn't been very happy about it. He had wanted to keep the slave for himself, and the last week before the slave was sold, his master had beaten him more savagely and more often than ever before. The slave had almost been glad when the organizers of the slave market had come to collect him, but had soon discovered he was no better off. The slave handlers had assumed his injuries were the result of disobedience, and so had starved him to keep him submissive.

The slave desperately hoped his new master would take pity on him and at least let him rest and heal before sending him to work. Please, please, let him be gracious enough to let me sleep tonight. His new master was shorter than he was, and though it wasn't by much, the slave did his best to hunch his shoulders and lower his head further. He knew some masters hated any slaves who were talker than them.

He waited for the boy- his master, he reminded himself- to take his leash and lead him to where ever they were going, but his new owner seemed hesitant. Finally, the slave felt him grip his arm and start guiding him away from the slave market. The slave was baffled at this, but he remained silent.

When he thought they were safe enough away, Yuma began talking quickly to the boy beside him. "My name is Yuma. I don't like slavery, so you don't have to act like a slave around me. I just couldn't…I couldn't leave you there. So, what's your name?" The boy didn't answer.

The slave's heart pounded. He couldn't understand a word his master was saying. During the auction, everyone had spoken Heartlandish, since it was the commerce language, but now his master was using a tongue that was completely foreign to the slave. His master was waiting for a response, that much was clear, but he had no idea what to say. Should he speak in Heartlandish to ask what his owner meant? Should he remain silent? Each one could warrant a beating, and he might not be fed or allowed to sleep tonight…

To the slave's very great relief, he was saved in the next moment by a group of people running up to his master. As he watched their exchange, the slave wondered if these newcomers were slaves like himself or if he was to regard them as masters. If they were slaves, they were evidently treated extremely well; however, based on their behavior and their tones around the one who had purchased him, he was going to guess they were on an equal level with him. They seemed upset about something, and the slave's stomach clenched when he realized it was probably him they were discussing.

Yuma had been about to repeat his question when he heard someone call his name.

"Yuma!"

"Yuma! Where have you been?"

"How dare you leave without telling us!"

"Bronk! Tori! Flip!" He noticed his other two companions behind them. "Caswell! Cat! Hey, guys!"

"Yuma!" Tori's face was a storm cloud. "Where have you been? Where did you go? Why did you leave WITHOUT TELLING US?"

"Tori, I-"

"Your father and Lord Kay told us to STICK TOGETHER!" She finally noticed the strange boy standing behind her friend. "Who is this?"

"Uh, Tori, this is…actually, I don't know his name. I asked him but he wouldn't tell me."

"Yuma," Cat whispered, "He's wearing chains."

"Oh," Yuma said, having completely forgotten. "I haven't figured out how to get those off yet."

"Yuma," Bronk said seriously, studying his friend, "You don't have your money pouch. Tell me you didn't…you didn't, did you?"

"You bought a slave, Yuma?" Tori was horrified. "But, why?"

"I don't know, really. He just looked like he needed my help, and so I had to help him."

Caswell shook his head in disbelief. "Your father's going to kill you, Yuma. He's going to kill you."

Next time on A Tale of Two Slaves: Emperor Kazuma has no idea what to do with his reckless son and the newest member of their expedition.