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Rialto might not seem like a grand place, and the average person would think being forced to reside within a brothel could never feel right. Yet to a young blonde elf boy and many other children, it was home.
It was early morning, before the dawn was anywhere near rising that unknown men came. It was the madam’s voice that awoke the life within and all of the children were ushered into the large sitting room often reserved for welcome guests and regular patrons.
A bed-head ridden Zevran rubbed his eyes and already was trying to understand what was going on. He nudged another elf boy to inquire but when their voices rose they were all promptly shushed at before the next thing they all knew, they were being herded out of the brothel and onto the back of a cart.
Minutes drew by and they were all pulled along, the brothel and the city it was in grew farther and farther away. Yet still Zevran and the other children didn’t know what was going on and where they were going. Some of the older children gossiped, wondering if they had been sold to slavers and another child groaned about it’s possibility of being an orphanage or something to do with the Chantry.
Yet the men were too suspicious, too studious in their gazes. A wiff about them that smelled wrong. The older ones having been on the street longer, knew that smell, like a sixth sense.
There was really only time to speculate however and most of the children opted to cry or throw tantrums until they fell asleep.
A new city, large, bright as the sun hung overhead by the time they arrived. Many children had fallen asleep and it wasn’t until the cart stopped moving that the small bodies roused awake again. Hands grabbed them to jerk them from the cart and prod them on to a new area.
The air was thick with the promise of Antiva’s usual midday rainfall. At least one thing was always consistent, it filled Zevran with a sense of familiarity that staved off his inate worry at this alien situation.
"You five, this way" Zevran, two humans and two other elves were picked out from the crowd of children. Another group of five picked out by a different man and so on. They were hesitant at first, but with the threat of pain came quicker obedience.
"Alright, alright. Don’t need to go poking me" Zevran huffed in his childlike way of staying calm but still sounding snarky as usual. They moved though and found themselves in a dimly lit room. Immediately the human girl out of them was taken and shoved into what could only be a dog cage. The human boy was thrown into another, then the elves were apparently specially chosen to go first for whatever horrendous things these strangers had in store for them.
"Is it good to go?“ one man asked another that stood by a pot of glowing coals. He stirred something in it, light flickers of embers catching and dancing in the heat above it.
"Ready when you are” the other one noted, sounding rather bored despite the circumstances.
One elf got a shackle around the throat, the other was forced to a post. Zevran was ushered over to a rather important looking table that was scored generously with black marks across the wooden surface.
"Lay your hands on the table boy" demanded one of the men as he gestured to the table he was pulled over to. The other children were already making a racket by the time the small hand was forced onto the surface and one of the men hollered at the others to shut up.
"Since you think you’re funny, I’m starting with you" as if the information was important to Zevran for some reason. If there was a lesson here, it wasn’t really teaching much outside of shut up at this point.
"W-what is this? What are you doing?“ Zevran found himself asking the questions despite his desire to do just whatever the previous lesson had been. He was just a child though, hardly seven and with so many lessons to learn still. Even with his upbringing, the threat of pain had never been this fatalistic. The heat of the room caused them all to sweat and the glow of the coals seemed just that much more menacing as an iron rod was pulled from it’s depths.
The tip of the iron glowed hot and as it was brought closer, Zevran instinctively tried to pull himself away from being held. It was a fruitless attempt however. The thin childlike hands not even budging the hands of an adult.
"Try not to pass out eh? We’ve got bets on you lot” one laughed a little before he brought the iron close enough to line up with the back of the small bronze hand that flexed and fisted trying to get free.
"No! NO! Stop, please! NO!“ The very real heat itched the back of the small elf’s hands and already it made the skin tight and pained. They were doing this slowly, being sadistic. They sat there inching this hot piece of metal closer to a childs hands and only last night he was asleep in a far nicer place than he was now. What in Maker’s name had happened?
It was all surreal the moment the metal touched the smooth skin. Zevran’s eyes shot open, staring as if it weren’t real before the pain registered and his eyes watered hard enough to pour down his face nearly instantly. He gasped at air as if he would suffocate while he could do nothing more but let out a blood curtling scream and thrash trying to get away with no avail.
When the iron finally pulled away the flesh against the back of his hand was raw. Blood seemed to bubble around the edges and the air stunk of what he could only discern was cooked pork. That would stick with him for certain. Yet the skin looked charred, ruined. Ruined into a shape that he couldn’t discern right then.
It wasn’t until after the blood seemed to stop rushing that the pain increased and he realized he was still somehow awake. The desire to sleep washed over him heavy enough that he felt limp against the arms that moved him. Zevran remained awake however, even as the other children were traded off. Set aside while the other’s were burned, branded. One of the other kids didn’t move, didn’t breathe and Zevran didn’t know if they were even still alive. It didn’t matter.
By the time everyone had been branded, only two of the five had managed to stay conscious. They tsked at the one that was now more than ever notably dead before looking to Zevran and the female human who had surprised them both.
"That’s some good news for you guys.” one took a squat right near them.
"What… is all this? Why are we even here?“ Zevran finally asked again, his eyes red from crying due to the pain. The pain that even then still hurt to the core of his hand and mind.
"Pft, you’re serious? Oi…” one of them laughed a bit.
"Welcome to the Antivan Crows lad. You’re one of the latest recruits… if you survive that is. Do us proud, ya?“ the other chimed in and it was only moments after the question was finally answered that Zevran finally passed out from exhaustion from the adrenaline rush.
The two men laughed hysterically as the young elf fell asleep right then, but the sounds were drowned out with white hot dreams.