Alex felt his stomach knot itself in fear as he watched his fellow in bondage disappear in the busy thoroughfare with his new owner. He looked back to the other two men, but they were ignoring him, their eyes facing down. Alex took a deep breath and tried to steel himself against his shame as passerby made crude remarks and jokes at their expense.
“Slaves! Young, Healthy! Excellent workers!” the slaver continued to bark to the crowd.
A pair of hulking minotaurs paused to examine the newly-minted slaves. Alex examined the thick, roan fur of the one nearest to him, admiring the powerful slopes of muscle that ran beneath despite himself.
“This one is scrawny,” the roan one said with a dismissive flick of his hand towards Alex. “But these two might be good in the field. Once I bulk them up a little bit.” He chuckled.
“These are fresh and unspoiled by magic, relatively,” the slaver fingered the rings on his left hand, “You can change them however you see fit! For a reasonable fare of one thousand per head.” The slaver and the roan minotaur argued back and forth before finally settling on a price.
“Fine! Twelve hundred for the pair. Do we have an accord?” the slaver reached out a grimy hand.
“We have an accord.” The roan reached into the satchel hanging at his side and pulled out a small brown coin purse and counted out the slaver’s money. The slaver snapped his fingers and the two men next to Alex stepped forward. He pulled two of the rings off his fingers. The roan handed the man his money and took the rings, his heavy brow furrowing as he examined them in his big, four fingered hand.
“They’ll work if I wear them around my neck?” he asked.
“Actually, they adjust!” the slaver said without taking his eyes from his gold. The roan chuckled as he watched the gold ring enlarge as it slipped over his thick middle finger. He handed the other to his partner.
“Come along, humans,” the roan snapped his fingers. The two men stiffened as the rings shocked them into obedience. Like the first man to be sold, the pair stumbled off behind their masters, their heads hung low in meek submission.
“Best look alive, ya scrawny waif,” the slaver cuffed Alex on the back of the head, making him almost cry out. “I’m not taking any low-ball offers ‘cause of you.”
“And what have we here?” a smooth, deep voice said from the corner of Alex’s eye. He turned to face a tall, narrow man, with broad shoulders short-cropped blond hair. His face was aquiline and sporting a neat goatee. He wore the most amount of clothes Alex had seen on a man yet: a pair blue cotton trousers and what looked like this world’s version of a black, hooded pull-over. He had a small leather bag slung over one shoulder and carried a short walking-stick in his left hand.
“Why, sir! Even mages must have grunt work that needs doing! Please, have a look.” The slaver implored. But the man ignored the slaver and stepped forward to take a closer look at Alex.
“He’s small, but this one reads,” the slaver said as the man continued to examine Alex. He could feel his face flush red as he was looked over like meat by the stranger. “And he’s stronger than he looks,” the slaver added. Awe, Alex thoughts were oozing in sarcasm, that’s the nicest thing he’s said about me.
“And where do you come from, boy?” the stranger finally asked of Alex.
The slaver snapped his fingers. “Answer him.”
Alex felt his jaw unclench. “I…,” he cleared his throat. “I was in the forest…”
“Yes, but where do you come from?” he repeated, emphasizing the last two words and raising his eyebrows. He looked straight into Alex’s eyes with his own piercing blues.
“Not from around here,” Alex finally said, hoping the vague reply wouldn’t earn him a lash.
“Tell him, you…” the slaver began but the mage held up a hand to silence him.
“I’ve heard enough. I’ll give you eight.”
“One thousand coins, not a fraction lower!” thee slaver countered.
“Eight hundred gold, and I don’t remind you that you don’t actually have a license to be selling slaves in Dicktin.” The stranger let out a mock gasp and covered his mouth in shock. Alex’s blood boiled. “So, do we have a deal.”
The slaver’s face scrunched up in a hilarious display of rage and contempt before he let out a deep breath. “Fine. Mean’s I can get out of this hell-hole anyway. Roundbottom Port is nicer anyway,” he grumbled, pulling the final ring off of his stubby finger and handing it over to the mage. The man reached into his satchel and pulled out a piece of parchment, which he handed to the slaver.
“A check?” the slaver decried, incredulous.
“Unlike you, I’m good for my word and money. Stop by the Magistrate’s office to cash it. Maybe file for a license while you’re at it.” The mage chuckled as he fit the ring onto his finger. He looked to Alex, who shrank a bit from the man’s hungry stare.
“What is your name, my slave?” he asked.
“Alex,” he answered, his voice shaking. He wondered who his new…owner…was, but the man did not introduce himself.
“I suppose that will do, for now. On your hands and knees, Alex.”
Alex didn’t want to get down on the dirty, filth-strewn road, but his back and legs bowed unbidden. He found himself crouched to the ground, his head bent low.
“I don’t like attracting attention, Alex. So, until we get to your new home, I’m going to make you into something a little less auspicious.” The mage said before raising a hand. Alex wanted to beg him not to do anything to him, but the magic of the ring still bound him from speaking. The mage began to intone in a language Alex didn’t understand. A burning fever assaulted him down to his very senses. He groaned and grunted, unable to cry out, as his skin burned and itched, his muscles stretched and contorted. A surging pain radiated up his spine from his posterior; Alex could feel something growing from his backside, feel it reflexively curl between his legs to bely his fear and pain as his body continued to change. He almost wished for death right there as the sensations assaulted his face and jaw. He could feel it growing and elongating, his nose searing with pain. He opened his eyes long enough to watch his hands, white-knuckled from clutching the earth, transform into…paws, Alex realized with a shudder. The fingers grew short, the nails darkening and extending into claws. His skin was consumed in black fur; he could see it on the muzzle protruding into his field of vision. Alex whined, the dog-like noise only despairing him more as the feverish feeling of the change began to ebb. The sensation left him, as suddenly as it had began. Alex lay there, his belly on the ground, staring past the canine muzzle and furry paws that extending into his field of vision. His mind was reeling; he could feel the air blow across the fur on his back, and the strange new appendage clenched tightly between his hind legs in fear. He couldn’t be…Alex thought.
“It’s okay,” he heard the mage say from above him. “Stand up boy.” His owner commanded. Alex didn’t want to, but he felt a tug on his left ear and a slight jolt of pain that made him whine. He felt his ear flick at an uncomfortable and foreign weight; the ring must have repositioned itself to his ear during his transformation. He pushed himself to all fours, his first instinct to continue pushing onto just the two, but he couldn’t. His hind legs were shorter, his spine had changed posture. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’ve transformed you into a dog. A big, handsome black dog if I must say.” The mage said.
He was big, Alex realized. Even standing on all fours, his head was level with the man’s waist. He twisted his body to examine himself; his broad flanks were covered in shaggy black fur, and his forelimbs and hindlegs where sturdy with muscle. Alex felt himself become more relaxed, and was greeted by the sensation of his new tail. He tried to get a better look and before he knew it he was chasing his tail in spite of himself. He stopped when he heard the mage laugh.
“That’s enough, boy. Sit.” He commanded. Alex stopped himself immediately and sat back on his hind-legs. “Good boy,” he reached into his bag and pulled out a dry piece of jerky, tossing it to the dog. Alex caught it with surprising ease and eagerly devoured the savory treat. “Now, forget yourself for a moment. You’re not Alex right now, you are Jet. My loving pet and loyal guard dog, accompanying his master on a stroll through the town.” He intoned in a low voice. Alex felt a dull haze settle over his mind, and soon all of it just slipped away; his fear over being captured and sold as a slave, the shock of being transformed into an animal, his bewilderment at even getting lost in this world in the first place. It all faded as a warm sense of contentment settled over him. He looked up into his masters eyes and the feeling intensified, making his tail wag. The mage smiled down on him and reached out to scratch behind Jet’s ears, making the dog pant and grin in contentment.
“Good boy. Now come, let’s go home,” he said before striding forward. Jet rushed forward to follow his master, trotting at a brisk pace by his Master’s side and trying to ignore the many strange smells and sounds he heard along the way. Jet wanted to stop and sniff everything; it felt so new to him for some reason. But he was out with his Master doing important business. Instead he raised his head high, his ears perked and his eyes scanning his surroundings. He was a good dog, and he would always be alert for any danger that may come to his Master.