The sound of footsteps and shuffling echoed near the door for what felt like an hour. Kaiden could hear people moving back and forth, their voices occasionally drifting through the walls, but nothing distinct enough to make out. He assumed they had been docked for a while now, and whoever was onboard was busy unpacking whatever cargo the ship had been carrying.

  He sat against the cold stone wall, waiting, listening. Wondering when someone would finally acknowledge him.

  Finally, a loud, boisterous voice called out from beyond the door.

  “Wakey, wakey,” the voice sang, accompanied by the distinct jingle of keys.

  Kaiden didn’t bother pretending to be asleep this time. He shifted, moving into a position where he could clearly see the door as it swung open.

  A man stepped inside, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

  Kaiden recognized him immediately.

  It was the same man who had given him the muffin.

  “Ah, you’re awake. Good,” the man said, grinning as he tossed something through the bars of the cell. A pair of trousers and a rough brown tunic landed on the floor at Kaiden’s feet. “Put these on.”

  Kaiden didn’t move, glaring at the muffin man. In any other circumstance, he might’ve chuckled at that.

  “Can’t have you walking around in your military wear now, can we?” the man added, his voice dripping with amusement.

  Kaiden clenched his jaw. “Why’d you do this to me?” His tone was sharp, laced with anger.

  He was furious that this stranger, someone he had never even met before, had drugged him, kidnapped him, and now had the audacity to just order him around.

  The man chuckled, clearly entertained by Kaiden’s reaction. “I’ll be back with some chains. Better change before I get back, or things will get ugly.”

  Kaiden narrowed his eyes, his fingers twitching at his sides. He wanted to lash out, to demand answers, but what would that accomplish? He was still in the cell, trapped, and had no idea where he was.

  The man turned and strode out of the room without a care in the world.

  Kaiden pushed to his feet. “Wait! Where did you take me?”

  The man didn’t look back. He simply laughed, throwing a casual response over his shoulder. “Welcome to the island.”

  Kaiden froze.

  Island?

  His stomach twisted. Of all the possibilities he had considered, this was the worst-case scenario.

  Escaping from an island? Was that even possible?

  His mind raced as he stared at the doorway, now locked once again.

  Getting out of a standard prison was one thing. There were ways to slip out unnoticed, places to run, people to blend in with. But an island? He had no idea how big it was, how many people lived here, or how far it was from the mainland. And even if he did manage to escape his cell, where would he go? Steal a boat? Swim for it?

  He shuddered at that last thought.

  First chance he got, he’d learn to swim.

  Kaiden exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus on the now.

  It wouldn’t do Kaiden any good to refuse to change clothes. He didn’t want to risk his storage ring being found.

  He slipped out of his clothes quickly and put on the prisoner outfit—or at least, that’s what it seemed to be. The trousers were itchy and felt like they were made from a potato sack. He grimaced as he pulled them on. The tunic was a little better, but still scratchy, clearly the lowest quality fabric possible.

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  Annoyed, he reached for his storage ring to slip it into a pocket—only to realize something was wrong.

  “Oh, shit,” Kaiden cursed under his breath.

  No pockets.

  He patted the trousers again, as if his hands had somehow missed them the first time, but no, they were definitely pocketless.

  These were already the worst clothes he had ever worn, but the lack of pockets was just pure evil.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, trying not to panic.

  He needed to find a way to keep his storage ring hidden. His fingers moved to his waistband. The trousers had drawstrings in place of loops for a belt.

  This could work.

  Quickly, he looped the ring through one of the drawstrings and tied it into a tight knot, then tucked the strings inside so they weren’t visible. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than nothing.

  A few minutes later, the muffin man returned, a smug grin on his face. He carried a set of iron shackles and dropped them through the bars at Kaiden’s feet.

  “Put them on.”

  Kaiden picked up the shackles and examined them. The mechanisms were simple, easy to figure out. He clicked them around his wrists without complaint, keeping his face neutral as he stared at the man.

  The man chuckled. “Now don’t even think of trying anything. I’m a C-ranker, and you’re just a lowly E-ranker. There’s no way you could escape or even come close to harming me.”

  Kaiden said nothing, but the urge to summon his spear and run this bastard through burned at the back of his mind. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. Attacking now would only make things worse. He wasn’t even out of the cell yet.

  The man smirked as if he found Kaiden’s silence amusing. “Besides, I already know you’re a Bracer.”

  Then he burst into laughter. “You’re fucked.”

  Kaiden didn’t react. He just stared, keeping his expression blank, refusing to give this man the satisfaction of a response.

  The man scoffed, then unlocked the cell and grabbed Kaiden’s arm, yanking him forward.

  “Walk,” he ordered, jerking his head toward the door.

  Kaiden stepped out, taking a slow breath as he felt the weight of the shackles on his wrists. His captor waited for him to take the lead, following close behind.

  Walking through the door, Kaiden came to a hall that split in two directions—left or right. A few closed doors lined the passage, but both ends led to staircases going up.

  “Left,” came the command from behind.

  Kaiden turned left, following the hall.

  “Up the stairs.”

  He climbed steadily, his shackles clinking with each step. When he finally reached the top and stepped out onto the deck, the open air hit him first—cool, salty, carrying the distinct scent of the ocean.

  The ship was big—bigger than he expected. The deck was made of thick wooden planks, worn but solid, with heavy ropes tied along the railings. A single mast stood tall in the center, though the sails were pulled in, leaving the ship idle in the water. It wasn’t fancy, just a sturdy, functional vessel. This wasn’t a noble’s private yacht or a simple merchant ship. It looked built for rough use, maybe smuggling or something worse. It wasn’t the kind of ship an ordinary traveler would ever set foot on willingly.

  Kaiden scanned the deck. A few crew members were scattered about, tending to various duties—coiling ropes, securing crates, checking equipment. Some stood near the railings, talking and laughing, completely unconcerned with him being marched across the deck in chains. Their lack of reaction made something clear—this was routine.

  His gaze drifted beyond the ship to the island.

  As far as islands went, this one was small. From his vantage point, he guessed it stretched a few square miles at most. It wasn’t lush with vegetation, though patches of trees and dense brush clustered around the edges. In the center stood several buildings enclosed by high fences, and the whole place had the distinct look of a prison.

  Guards patrolled the perimeter. Some stood at posts, while others moved about, talking amongst themselves or overseeing work being done.

  “Keep walking,” came another command.

  Kaiden tore his eyes away from the island and moved forward.

  A wooden plank connected the ship to the pier, serving as the exit ramp. The pier was bustling with activity—crew members unloading crates, men hauling barrels, conversations filling the air with casual chatter. People joked and went about their business as if nothing unusual was happening.

  No one gave him a second glance.

  His stomach turned.

  He had a sneaking suspicion about what kind of operation this was.

  Human trafficking.

  Slavery was illegal in Jadari. He knew that much. He wasn’t sure about other nations, but indentured servitude was allowed under strict conditions—debt repayment, criminal sentencing. Even then, indentured servants had rights. One of those rights? No chains.

  And Kaiden?

  He was definitely in chains.

  Which meant whatever was happening here wasn’t sanctioned by any official government.

  This wasn’t indentured servitude.

  This was something far worse.

  A sinking realization settled in his gut. Whoever had brought him here had no intention of letting him walk away freely. This wasn’t a ransom or a temporary situation. He had been brought here as property.

  And that meant escaping just became a hell of a lot harder.

  Kaiden didn't know where he was going, so he just kept going straight. Then a voice called his way.

  "Rork, this the guy?"

  The muffin man answered, "Sure is."

  Guess his name’s Rork, Kaiden thought.

  "Bring him this way, and let’s find out," the other man said before turning and walking toward a small building nearby.

  The man looked to be in his late thirties, with a thick, unkempt beard and sun-darkened skin. His hair was short and uneven, as if cut with a dull knife. His clothing was plain but sturdy, a long sleeved tunic and heavy boots.

  Rork gave Kaiden a slight push. "Follow him."

  Kaiden did, but didn’t bother to reply. He didn’t like the sound of where this was going.