After nearly a month of traveling, we finally reached our destination—Lavaerûn, the so-called lawless town.
Unfortunately, Rafaela and I knew next to nothing about the place. No maps. No contacts. Just the name and a vague warning about its nature. I silently hoped we wouldn't get into any trouble the moment we stepped inside.
From where we stood—still a few kilometers out—I could already make out the outline of the massive settlement. Faint lights twinkled beyond the walls, casting a glow against the encroaching night. The air buzzed faintly with the sounds of movement, conversation, and distant laughter.
"At last, we're finally here, Rafaela." I glanced down at her and found Misha smiling quietly by my side.
"It's already nighttime," I added. "We should find a place to rest before exploring. I'm curious to see what kind of place this really is."
The moment we crossed through the weathered wooden gates, Lavaerûn greeted us with wary eyes and a thick atmosphere of unease.
The streets were narrow, dimly lit by rusted lanterns, and flanked by old stone buildings patched with mismatched materials. The people—if you could call them all that—weren't exactly human. Beastkin roamed openly, some with animal ears and tails, others with fully furred bodies moving on two legs. Demonic-looking figures like Rafaela, horns and all, strode past us without hesitation.
It was a melting pot of nonhumans, and every single one of them looked at us with caution—or worse.
The stares pierced us like daggers, and I felt Rafaela quietly slip her small hand into mine. Her grip trembled slightly. I gave it a reassuring squeeze and kept walking.
To be fair, no one had made a move against us. Suspicion was expected. Hostility was something else. As long as we didn't provoke anyone, we'd be fine.
Or so I thought.
We turned a corner and found ourselves in what looked like the town's marketplace—or at least, something that once tried to be. But instead of stalls selling food, spices, or tools, we were greeted with rows of cages.
Inside them were people. Elves, mostly. A few human women, bruised and chained, huddled in corners under flickering lamps.
A man with wolf ears stepped out of one of the nearby shops, grinning widely. "Mister, I've got some freshly captured Elven slaves. Come, take a look. One of them might just catch your eye."
Elven... slaves?
I didn't say a word. Just shook my head and walked past.
As we continued deeper into the town, it all started to make sense. The term lawless wasn't just for show. It wasn't chaos or riots—it was the system itself. Slavery was institutionalized here, and humans... humans were near the bottom of the food chain.
Women, especially, were treated like goods. Prostitutes were paraded in front of brothels like trophies. Chains clinked with every step. Hollow eyes watched us from behind bruised faces.
"Good evening, sir," came a guttural voice. An orc stepped into our path, smiling like a vendor at a fish market. "Looking for company tonight? Just two gold coins and you can pick any of our fresh girls. Humans, mostly. New arrivals."
He gestured to the women lined up beside him. Chained. Shaking. Some barely standing.
"Well-trained and flexible," he added, his grin widening. "They'll do anything. No questions asked."
This was the third offer I'd received since we entered.
Do I look like someone who would entertain this?
I clenched my fist tightly without realizing it.
"Big bro Troy... it hurts," Rafaela whispered beside me.
I immediately loosened my grip, then forced a smile and ruffled her hair. "Sorry. Let's find an inn, yeah? I'm exhausted."
The night was far more dangerous than the forests we'd crossed. But finally—finally—we stepped into the warmth of a modest-looking inn and closed the door behind us.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips.
"Welcome," came a calm, gravelly voice from the counter. An old man adjusted his spectacles and peered at us kindly.
He was human.
I blinked in surprise.
"Is something wrong, young man?" he asked with a gentle smile.
"No," I said quickly. "I just... didn't expect to see a human here. Everyone outside seemed to hate us."
The old man chuckled lightly. "You're new, I can tell. In Lavaerûn, anyone who enters willingly is considered a citizen, regardless of race. So long as you don't cause trouble, you're safe. Even the knights of Korra wouldn't dare step foot in here."
"Interesting…" I murmured.
"So, what'll it be?" he asked.
"Two bedrooms, one night."
"Ten silver coins for private baths, five for shared."
I dug into my bag and handed him the ten.
He nodded and retrieved a key from the wall behind him. "Second floor, third door from the stairs."
"Thanks."
He offered a final nod. "Welcome to Lavaerûn."
Rafaela and I headed for the stairs, but just before reaching them, we nearly bumped into someone coming down—a young woman with dark skin and jet-black hair, wolf ears poking through the top. She held a fresh blanket under one arm.
"My bad," I said quickly, stepping aside.
She gave a polite smile. "No worries."
As we ascended, I heard her call out to the old man, "Pops, I've finished cleaning the room."
She works here?
We reached our room and stepped inside. I closed the door, and just like that—the world outside was gone. The muffled noise of the town couldn't pierce the walls.
The room was simple: two beds, clean white sheets, a wooden drawer between them, and a small lampshade resting atop it, glowing softly beneath a glass window.
I threw off my robe and collapsed onto the bed.
Soft bed. Finally. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
If this isn't heaven, it's the closest thing I've got right now.