Richard sat in the corner of the cage, the constant rocking and swaying of the ship pushing him gently into and away from the bars. Since their abduction, the ship had been constantly on the move, and the captives had settled into something of a routine. As there were no bathrooms in the hold, once a day one of the elves would come into the hold and wash their cages, after that she would feed and water them in silence. Some villagers yelled and screamed at her at first, but after simply being ignored repeatedly, the yelling slowly gave way to the same resigned silence that all the other cages of humans had.

The villagers excluded him from food at first, sharing amongst themselves and their neighbors, but he was fortunate enough to know some ways to ease the seasickness that had overcome a few of their numbers, so they began to give him some small portion of the food provided by the elves, but only just enough to keep him going. Otherwise, the villagers mostly left him alone. Speaking, comforting, and worrying with each other over whatever fate awaited them.

A few weeks passed like this before he heard the distinctive cawing of birds through the creak and groan of the ship’s hull. Birds meant land, and it meant discovering what was in store for them.

Soon, a dull thump reverberated through the ship, and within minutes elves they had not seen before were entering the cargo hold. They had arrived at their destination, wherever that was.

Orderlies walked through and began sorting through the contents of the hold, military elves hauled out what looked like documents and other important prizes of the ship’s voyage. Once the officers gathered everything they needed, the orderlies began to filter in en masse and carry the cages into the searing sun.

Richard had to hand it to them, the elves were nothing if not efficient, and within minutes they had carried all the other cages out. The villagers, having observed the other cages being taken, didn’t scream or panic as his row was taken. They merely held onto the bars and prayed that wherever they were headed would be better than here.

The sun blinded them as they ascended through the hold’s ladder, and the colossal lighthouse, with its distinctive ornamentation of oak leaves and olives, told him what he needed to know in seconds.

“We’re in Alstor…” he whispered, realization creeping into his mind. Alstor was the coastal capital of, Arentide; the strongest human kingdom that remained on the western continent and the bulwark of the west.

Alstor’s Great Lighthouse was undamaged, but as Richard’s gaze fell upon the rest of the city, he saw a different story. Some ashes where buildings once stood were still smoldering, the Elsiran flag flew above many of the city’s tallest landmarks, and he saw a heap of wrecks scattered upon the beaches of the harbor, likely all that remaind of the Grand Navy of Arentide.

If Arentide had fallen, these raiders were not some small band of saboteurs, they were the advance scouts of the armies of Elsira, Ivelsten would fall as soon as they landed on the island, and from there Elsira would launch its crusade against the kingdoms of the east.

The fall of the kingdoms of man, however, was not an immediate concern of his. And as the elf carrying them entered into some gargantuan building, his focus shifted back to his present situation.

“Hey, chef!” He heard one of the elves ahead of him call. “Where do you want the fresh catch? We’ve got about one thousand wild caught humans here.”

Richard looked around… knives, cutting boards, crates full of vegetables and grains.

They were in a kitchen.

“Only a thousand? What is the Empress paying you for!” The chef spat out, she was a somewhat portly woman with an apron down her front, her crossed arms partially covered some multicolored stains that traced the white linen, the red stains were the most worrying.

The elven orderly ahead of her shrugged. “It’s just what the Dravida brought in, you know their main mission was scouting, not harvesting.”

The elf carrying their cage walked beside the chef and placed them atop the other cages, from up close the chef’s voice was booming.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just don’t come complaining to me when your rations have got vegetables and nothing else!”

As the orderlies left, the chef unfurled her arms and began inspecting her product. Her eyes peered into each of the cages, her gaze glanced past Richard, and she did a double take. She looked him up and down in an instant before continuing to assess the quality of the catch.

She clicked her tongue, and as she sauntered off, he could hear her grumbling indistinctly in hushed tones.

A wave of panic began inside the cages. Richard was willing to bet that few, if any, of the other prisoners could understand Elven; however, he was certain they understood what being stacked next to produce in a kitchen meant.

But their panic could do nothing to break the bars of their cages. Every cage had at least someone trying to escape. Within minutes, blood was dripping off of the more desperate in their midst, while the others, including Richard, could do nothing but wait in fear. Praying that this was not what they thought it was.

What felt like ages passed, but eventually he heard the harsh tones of the chef as she drew closer, in conversation with another.

“So I figured I would come and get you, right? I know you said you’d trade for any weird humans that found their way to me.”

“I did indeed say that,” the voice with a smoothness like honey replied, “and what do you have to show me?”

The two elves rounded the corner and came into view, the chef dwarfed their new arrival in both height and girth, the second elf was a somewhat small, raven haired elf that walked with a grace that outclassed even the majority of her race. She followed close behind the chef as they closed in on the cages.

The chef stopped directly in front of their him, and bent down to peer inside, her hazel eyes followed quickly by the brilliant violet pupils of her partner.

“That one, the blue haired one, I’ve never seen a human with blue hair before, and I’ve seen a lot of humans.” The chef said plainly.

The violet eyed raven said nothing, she simply stared at him. Sizing him up and down for what felt like minutes. For the first time since this ordeal began, he felt truly naked.

“Interesting.” She finally said.

“So? He worth anything?” The chef suggested eagerly.

“To you? No, to me, maybe. How about thirty gold pieces for him?”

“Thirty? Did you say thirty for the blue one?” she balked, her astonishment creeping into her voice.

Richard didn’t have any way of knowing just how much an Elsiran gold piece was worth, but given the tone of the chef’s voice, he guessed it was far above normal prices.

“Yes.” The smaller elf replied simply.

“Sold! Say… you wouldn’t happen to want any of the others, would you? Maybe ones from the same batch?”

The violet eyed elf smiled at her, “No, thank you, just the one.”

The chef shrugged. “Suit yourself, I’ll just get dinner started then. The girls will be excited about tonight’s meal. It might not hold a candle to the human dishes they ate back home in the cities, but they’ll be happy it's not just gruel again.”

Elven cities served dishes with… human beings?… He had heard rumors of how the elves treated their prisoners… but he had always dismissed those rumors the same as he dismissed the rumors about elves shrinking humans.

A sinking feeling overcame Richard, perhaps the elves did eat humans, the rumors were right about the shrinking after all.

Suddenly, the top of his cage was being opened, and a massive hand was reaching in. Richard didn’t struggle, he had barely processed the fact that he was about to die what looked to be a violent death, and now he was being saved from it. Fingers thicker than him grasped his hips, ever so gently, and before he knew it he was deposited into a much smaller cage that his new owner produced from her clothing.

“I’m done with this cage,” the smaller elf said while stepping back, leaving the larger elf to her craft.

“Alrighty, lemme just…” the chef maneuvered past her guest and grabbed his former cage. Richard’s eyes were glued to what was happening to those that were not chosen.

The chef tilted the cage over into a bucket of water. He watched those dumped into the bucket pop up above the surface, only to have dozens more human beings thrown on top of them as the chef added another cage. After nearly a dozen cages, hundreds were desperately trying to tread water, he couldn’t image what it must be like inside the bucket. Hundreds of naked human beings, jam packed, slipping and sliding against each other. His attention was drawn to the chef once more as she placed a titanic, high rimmed pan atop some smoldering coals and poured a lake’s worth of oil inside.

The chef returned to the people in the bucket, she ran her fingers through the mass of humanity, washing them like how one would wash rice. The shouting and screams intensified, and then were silenced as she pushed the masses up and down into the water with the experience of someone who had done this many times before. Some had almost certainly already drowned.

He wondered if that was the more merciful fate.

After about thirty seconds of washing, the chef transferred the mass of humanity to a colander. From Richard’s vantage point the bottom of the kitchen utensil looked like a swarm of pale bugs piled upon each other, some lucky few lay still, having already drowned. However, others desperately tried to stand, only to be shaken back down by the chef as she struck the colander repeatedly to strain the water off of them. He heard their cries as their bodies were thrown around like pasta.

The chef looked down at her handiwork and, satisfied with the results, took a few steps over to the pan and casually tossed them all into the now boiling oil.

He couldn’t see inside the pan, but he heard the screams in his bones. Inhuman, animalistic screams that faded into the rolling sizzle of oil within moments.

None of the other cages had a vantage point to see what Richard was seeing, but they surely heard the screams, sizzling, and then silence. He could see the pure, unbridled horror in the remaining cages. How could the elves be this… barbaric? How could they be getting away with these crimes against humanity? He was simply in awe of what he was seeing.

But before he could wonder further, his new cage was being lifted away from the hell that had awaited him, his savior, if one wanted to call the raven haired elf that, must have decided it was time to go as she walked over to the chef and deposited a heavy sack of gold into her hand and bid her farewell.

With his cage hanging by a chain in her fingers, his new owner departed. Richard spared one final glance at the doomed souls they were leaving behind, and for the first time in his life he was thankful for his abnormal hair.