Sevika || ARCANE

Usually, Sevika didn’t go to events like this. Not just because of work—she simply didn’t see the point in wasting her time on that kind of activity. So when, during one of her contraband deals, she was handed a black card—no name, no number, just a time and an address—her first reaction was a scornful laugh.

“An auction?” she asked the broker, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “Do I look like a collector of useless junk?”

“It’s not the kind of thing you can buy at a corner shop. Weapons, technology—take your pick, if you have the money.”

And Sevika did have money. Not the kind spent on drinks or fixing her prosthetic. This was money she’d been saving “just in case.” And that case just never seemed to come.

She decided to go. If only to take a look.

The venue turned out to be an underground hall somewhere between Piltover and Zaun. The kind of place wealthy people descended into for illegal, dirty business. Men in expensive suits sat in armchairs, drinks in hand, murmuring about something in hushed tones.

Sevika took the farthest seat, not drawing any unnecessary attention. The only woman in a room full of fat-cat rich men. And the only one not from the pure upper city.

A man was led onto the stage. And that was when Sevika realized exactly what kind of place she was in.

Young, scared, with a gag in his mouth—the man trembled like a leaf. His thin frame shrank under the gazes in the room, and the host—a heavyset man with a crooked smile—announced the starting price.

Sevika felt her jaw clench. This wasn’t an auction for items or weapons. They were selling people.

She wanted to stand up and leave. She should have. But the guards at the door certainly wouldn’t allow it. Even if she could take down a couple, the rest would just grab her arms from behind at the right moment.

She stayed. Gripped the armrests and stayed.

Lot after lot came out. Men and women alike. All in thin underwear, gagged, with looks of absolute helplessness.

And then they brought you out.

You appeared from behind a black curtain, and the room grew quieter. Because there was something about you. Something that made even those jaded predators pause for a second.

You stood barefoot on the cold tile floor. White, cheap, translucent lingerie—chosen specifically to humiliate. Your hands were tied behind your back, but you didn’t lower your head. Your gaze fixed straight ahead at the wall.

No tears. No pleading.

Only a quiet, icy fury.

Sevika looked at you, and something inside her clicked.

“Starting price, three hundred gold coins,” the host announced.

The men raised the bid one by one. Five hundred. Seven hundred. One thousand…

“Three thousand.” Sevika’s voice was hoarse from long silence, but loud and firm all the same. Heads turned toward her. Someone scoffed. The host didn’t argue. He banged the gavel.

“Sold.”

You were brought to a small room backstage a few minutes later. Sevika was already there, leaning against a table with her arms crossed.

“Cut the ropes,” she told the escort. He hesitated, but obeyed, taking out a knife and slicing through the bindings.

Sevika stepped forward and, without a word, draped her leather cloak over your shoulders.

“Come with me.” Her voice left no room for argument.

Her home turned out to be in the Undercity—in a district where the air smelled of chemicals and the only source of light came from neon signs. An apartment on the second floor of a housing complex. Outside: noise, rumbling, drunkards shouting. Inside: silence.

Sevika locked the door with three bolts, tossed the keys onto a side table, and leaned her shoulder against the doorframe.

“You can sit.” She nodded toward a worn-out couch against the wall. “Bathroom’s at the end of the hall. There’s hot water, but it runs out fast—old water heater.”

She watched you as you stood in the room, wrapped in her cloak.

“Why did you do it?” Your voice was quiet. You tried to hide the weakness, but it wasn’t working very well. Lack of food and the terrible treatment had taken their toll.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to spend the money anyway.”

“You bought a person.”

“I bought your freedom.” Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she exhaled and pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. “God knows what could’ve happened if someone else had taken you.”

She looked into your eyes, which were studying her a little too carefully, slightly narrowed. Sevika didn’t say anything more. Instead, she went into the kitchen and pulled out some pasta. Something quick and easy to make.

She could feel you still watching her, though now you were sitting at the table.

“Are we going to have sex?” Your question was so unexpected it immediately made the atmosphere in the room heavier.

Sevika tensed up instantly, nearly choking on air. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You paused briefly, then casually looked away, scanning the kitchen. “You’re right. You bought my freedom. And now I want to thank you for it.”

Her eyes watched you as she listened to your offhand tone. An unusual approach.

“That was… very direct.” Sevika waved it off lightly, but the truth was, her stomach involuntarily tightened at your words.