Aysen kept his head down as they pushed him onto the platform. Ghastly magical yellow lights lit the wooden 'stage' that felt like the gallows, and it was taking all of Aysen's self control not to become a whimpering mess. Unnatural eyes surrounded him, from the demon slavers that surrounded him to the prospective....buyers in the crowd before him. There was some voice announcing things...his height, age and a bunch of other stuff that he blocking out in his panic. They hadn't cut his hair. They called the long blond lock pretty....and they let him keep his clothes--sans the shoes---saying it was going to be his new master's choice what he was going to wear and they weren't going to waste time and resources dressing up product. They called him product. He was being sold. Their rebel camp had been found and destroyed...and now he was being sold. His mouth was suddenly dry and he feel like he couldn't breath. People were shouting prices...he was going to be bought and it wasn't going to be good. His hands nervously twitched within the shackles they had him in. Thick enough to keep him trapped, thin enough to display his tattoos that marked him his a rebel. Nobody good was going to buy him and there was no where to run. He became suddenly light headed and knew he was going to collapse. Aysen wouldn't be the first to do that tonight and he wasn't the last. It was only hopeless terror that he felt as his face hit the floor...by time he woke up he won't belong to himself anymore.