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A Chord Of Blood
Interlude 2

Interlude 2

My name is Randall. I’m your typical traveling merchant, traveling all over the world to purchase products and sell them for a higher price in a different part of the world. Though, I’d like to say that I have a bit more of a moral compass than most merchants.

I was in a town called Gordge, which was one of the nearest settlements to the southeast most corner of the continent, in the Kingdom of Paelo. The town was having its weekly market, as does every town like this, and I of course was selling and trading goods. Nothing was unusual, I’d done this thousands of times throughout the course of my life.

However, I saw this kid that really stuck out to me. I figured he was an orphan. He had rags for clothes and he had no shoes. He was extremely dirty, and he seemed very skinny, clearly having been an orphan for quite some time, or at least starved for quite some time.

That wasn’t the unusual thing, no, it was the expression on his face and the air about him and his demeanor. His expression was one of absolute indifference, like he’d been broken. His eyes were empty, though constantly looking around as if to make sure he wasn’t going to miss something. The air about him screamed to not go near him and to definitely not talk to him. It wasn’t intimidating, it wasn’t exactly scary, it just gave me the chills.

It seemed like everyone had the same thoughts as I did, as the kid was drawing stares and whenever people walked around him they always made sure to keep their distance.

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Like any orphan, I had decided to keep an eye on him. He may very well try to steal something.

Soon after I had that thought though, I was distracted by a customer. We were going back and forth haggling until eventually we reached an agreement.

Right after that, I heard some ruffling around and chewing behind me. I turned around to see that same orphan eating the food that I was planning on selling. I immediately went up to him and grabbed him. He punched me in the nose in response, which, coming from a kid who looked no more than 10, didn’t pack that much of a punch, but was still enough to hurt and cause my nose to bleed. I said something nasty to him that I shouldn’t have said.

The orphan ran off and I chased him down. He was very slow, likely because he was famished. I made sure to lift him up under his arms so he couldn’t do anything. I then knocked him out.

I brought him to the lord’s home and I was invited inside to discuss the crime and punishment with a bureaucrat. Most of the town witnessed it, so there was no debate of whether he actually committed the crime or not. The bureaucrat told me that his punishment would be to get whipped 25 times and to work for me for a week.

I told the bureaucrat that the 25 whippings would suffice, and that he didn’t need to work for me. I felt bad for the kid. He didn’t seem to be in a very good place.

I met a stranger who offered to let me stay in his home for the night and I laid in the bed alone reflecting on the day that had just passed and thinking about that boy. I was alone because my daughter was much too young to travel on these trips with me and my wife was taking care of her.

I regretted the nasty things that I said to the kid. I wished him the best for the rest of his life.

I went to sleep ready to move onto the next city tomorrow.