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Prime brings Aya to Tayane, when he has enough mana for the trip and she's reviewed her old notes about the things she'll need to know. They split up once in town - she speaks a few sentences of Esevi so he'll be able to communicate, and she heads to the market office alone so it doesn't look like he's trying to steal her.

She goes barefoot, blank-heeled.

No time has passed. The fellow behind the counter recognizes her. "What are you doing back here?"

"I claim Aelare's blessing," says Aya firmly. "I want my papers updated."

"Your cart fell into a magic?" surmises the clerk.

"Yes, and I'm -" She lifts her foot to show off her clean heel.

This makes it much easier for the security guard manning the door to knock her over and get her hands and feet in shackles.

They pat her down; they take her necklace, they take the mirror Prime gave her in case she ran into any trouble, they take her holy water and hit her when she tries to speak to Prime or Perinixu for help and she doesn't get any words out. They haul her into a side room.

"AELARE'S BLESSING," exclaims Aya. "Look at my -"

"Wrong province, as of last week," says the clerk. "In Tharlo the gods aren't allowed to steal any recoverable property anymore. Were there any other survivors from the accident?"

Aya stares at him.

He slaps her hard across the face and repeats his question.

Aya murmurs, "No, sir."

-------

She doesn't look like she's pushing a century of age.

No time has passed.

She has - she still has? - her grace, when she's made to shuffle into a different holding pen. But the magic could have done that.

Magics can do anything.

No time has passed.

Magics can do anything. A magic could give her minor augmented abilities. It would be trivially easy to find a new outfit and a necklace and little bottles of water inside one.

Magics have been known to alter memory. They won't give her her belongings back to check to see if the water and the mirror really connect to people on the other ends.

And no time has passed.
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Prime wanders Tayane. He brought pocket money, in gold, easily changed to the local currency. He suspected what he was going to use it for, but he didn't make any promises to Aya or put too much groundwork down before he arrived, just in case he found something better.

He didn't. He buys and then frees nineteen slaves, the last of which was something of a headache to buy. There was another buyer that he didn't like, because the man very obviously had every intention of raping the poor woman he'd be buying, and quite frankly Prime is going to let that happen over his dead body. He outbids the man with a glare that ice could be compared unfavorably towards, and then leads the poor terrified woman to where he can sign ownership of her to herself.

She needs to have it explained to her that he is not going to hurt her or ask anything of her - especially anything of that nature. Bizarrely, she finds this sort of insulting, and he spends the next ten minutes explaining that it's not that she's not pretty, but it's that he is - taken. He leaves off the 'sort of' and the 'a magic necklace did it.'

The reminder of Aya does make him think, however. She still hasn't called him. That's sort of weird, but maybe she's busy? Doing... something?

...

Maybe if he were younger, he'd believe that. But he is not younger, he is five hundred years old and easily the most paranoid member of the Adarin club. He calls her mirror. There is no answer. So he has a brief debate over the importance of privacy while the newly freed woman prattles on about something he's not paying attention to, deems it secondary to safety, and then scrys.

By some miracle he doesn't immediately break something nearby. He's not certain how. Probably the knowledge that it would scare the daylights out of the poor woman in front of him to see him lose his temper so thoroughly.

"Here," he says, interrupting her. "Take this," he hands her a good amount of money, "have a wonderful life of your own choice, I'll be in the area if you need help, but if you'll excuse me, there is somewhere I very much need to be."

She's confused. He doesn't care.

He doesn't wait until he's out of sight to fly off. He is emotionally compromised.

The landing near Aya's holding pen has none of his usual casual slowness. It's a crack, it dents the ground he lands on, there is a shockwave.

"Hello," he says. He's got a good poker face, he could almost be greeting someone off of the street. A neighbor, maybe. Except for the way his eyes pierce straight into the soul. "Who exactly is in charge? I would like very much to speak to them."
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The fellow standing guard next to the sign on the wall around the pen which says Miscellaneous/Temporary - Not For Sale - Authorized Personnel Only yelps. "He's - inside!" he exclaims, pointing at the door to the office.

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"Thank you," growls Prime, not sounding particularly thankful.

He checks for Aya, before he goes to the office. Is she present and within sight?
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Aya is in Miscellaneous/Temporary - Not For Sale - Authorized Personnel Only, sitting on the ground leaning against the wall, squinting up through the awning over the pen to keep the slaves from keeling over of sunstroke. Crying, recently slapped, shackled, confused.

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None of those things are okay.

"Do please go get him for me," says Prime, and it's more order than threat.

But the threat is present. It is definitely present.
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"I can't - leave my post - sir."

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Silence.

"You do not want me to get him myself," he informs the guard. "And you do not want to test my patience. There is little."
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The guard bolts.

The fellow he was sent to get may be heard loudly haranguing him for leaving his post.
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This is very annoying.

He raises his voice.

"I don't recommend keeping me waiting," he growls. It's - remarkably projecting. Also, terrifying.

Prime has yet to use a single trace of mana. He's keeping it in reserve. In case he needs to kill people. (He will definitely kill people if he needs to.)
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"Adarin?" says a thready voice, barely audible from over the wall.

(The argument in the office becomes more heated.)
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That's the one thing that makes him soften. A little.

"I'm here," he says, soothingly. Gentle and soft. "And I am trying very hard not to break everything for the inconvenience it would cause you and your fellows. Do let me know if you'd like me to stop."
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Aya is too busy bursting into confused relieved tears to issue instructions.

(He's real, he's real, she's not in magic-induced love with a fictional magic construct.)
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He steps closer to the wall. She can't see his expression, but maybe anyone from the office can. None of the anger, just - 'you're safe you're okay I very much have feelings for you and I am very glad you are both of those things.'

"I will, of course, be getting you out of here. And probably also everyone else present. Just on principle."
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"They took my mirror - and my necklace and my holy water - I tried to call you."

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"My fault," says Prime. "I should have checked sooner. I apologize. Are you all right?"

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"I'm really, really glad you are not a false magic-implanted memory," she squeaks.
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"I am, too. It would be quite inconvenient, I would get nothing done."

(He wants very dearly to hold her. There is a wall in the way. Damn it.)
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There is a weak giggle.

The argument in the office is resolved. The man in charge heads for Adarin. "What can I do for you, sir?"
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"There is someone in there that should not be," says Prime, almost pleasantly. Almost. It turns out, 'almost' is pretty far from pleasant. "I would like her to not be in there."

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"Did you board a slave with us? Do you have your ticket or your customer number?"
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"I did not, and no and no. You see, you've kidnapped her. A mistake, I'm quite certain."

As in, it had better be a mistake.
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"There must be some mistake, certainly, sir. Who are you looking for?"

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"Her name is Ayabel. But if you would like a physical description as well, I can provide."

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"If you'll come into the office with me we can look over the relevant paperwork."

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"No, thank you. She's free - what was it, three-fold? Mmm. No, four. I am quite certain."

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