A cool, treasured wind blew through the lonely forest. Leaves danced in the sky while branches reveled in happiness at the opportunity to breathe. At the highest point it would ever hit, the oppressive sun shone down on the tops of every tree in the forest. Most days, the trees would gladly soak up all the sun, but today was different. A majority found the sun’s rays to be too much to bear alone. Even with the aid of all around, some burned and crisped, exclaiming in pain. But the cool wind brought well-sought relief to those in turmoil. Of course, except for Ozias.

In the center of the forest was a clear-cut path, slicing the heart of the forest in two. In place of the numerous trees that were previously thriving was a small gravel path extending the forest's length. This was the main path used to cross between the manor and the multiple small cities nearby. After crossing the forest were large plains which extended as far as the eye could see. For Laruth County, this was the most suitable land to build cities and to grow crops. However, this had been known and used for centuries. By this time in the present, the soil had long since lost its value from soil exhaustion. As such, the county sought to push east to the neighboring country of Tidemark.

Located at the continent's edge, Tidemark was a small mountainous country home to many cliffs and beaches. Over various months throughout the year, the sandy beaches at the bottom of the cliffs would disappear as water flew up towards the sky. During these periods, a strong tide would push up the length of the cliff, sometimes flowing over into the lands nearby. Because of this, the land was unsuitable for farming, and for many months throughout the year, it was also unsuitable for long-term habitation.

Knowing this, many other empires had left the small country to its devices, as all deemed it useless. It could not be used for farming, cities, or even as a port despite it being positioned in the sea. In terms of this world, it was an undesirable piece of garbage that could only be seen as a waste of time. But despite this, Laruth County had still shown interest in invading this country and taking it for itself. The reason for this interest dates back decades, when a legendary sword master ruled Tidemark, allowing it to push its borders out into the territory of Laruth. Dealing with a sword master, the county made the tough decision of gifting a portion of their territory to Tidemark in hopes they would be satisfied. Luckily, this had worked quite well for the county at the time. Unfortunately, though, was the unexpected death of the sword master only years later, making Laruth County's sacrifice in vain.

The sword master’s death marked a dip in Tidemark's strength, allowing the county to invade and attempt to take back their lost territory. In its efforts, the county had pillaged and slaughtered many villages, one of which was Ozias’s hometown. His village was burned and destroyed, and every person living there perished with the sole exception of Ozias.

It was by luck that he had survived, while the rest lay dead in the innocent fields they tended to every morning. And it was by luck he managed to survive as a young boy in this monstrous world.

A large bump knocked Ozias into consciousness. Minutes ago, he had passed out under the relentless pursuit of the beaming sun. Multiple sweat drops evaporated from the hard wooden floor of the cage. Currently, the carriage was traveling along the trail that connected the manor to the various cities. Unfortunately, no trees saved him from the harsh rays of the sun; rather, he was forced to bask in its heat.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Overall, they spent two hours traveling from the manor through the forest until finally reaching Lomont, the closest and largest city in the Laruth territory. With the sun lower and the heat beginning to die down, Ozias looked towards the distance and saw the monumental tower walls protecting the bustling cityscape before him. The city was surrounded by large plains towards the east and south but had a seemingly endless forest to its west, connecting with the one they were just in.

After stating the reason for his visit, the coachman whipped the horses into the city. They traveled under the large rising door and witnessed thousands of people. Each looked unique and different.

The horses stepped through the narrow, people-filled streets as many began to glance over. Ozias looked up and admired the architecture of the cityscape but noticed their gazes. Most people's movement stopped as they cast an eye towards Ozias. They saw his feeble body and the clothes he wore, different from their own.

Ozias noticed their demeanor and expected to see the reaction he had always received. One of hate and anger. Rather than that, though, they seemed to be sad, their eyes shining with pity as if he were a dying animal.

Never in his life had he received such a thing as that gaze. And rather than happiness, he was filled with rage. Was he so lowly that he needed their pity? Did he seem so disheveled to the point he required that pathetic stare? Never once had he received it until now, but he knew just from this one occurrence that he would never want to receive it again. Ozias's face blushed with embarrassment as he glared at the onlookers. His sharp eyes pierced through them as they eventually continued their business. However, one big bodied man did not get the message. His cheeks had a light reddish hue while he carried a canteen full of a mysterious liquid. The fat man waltzed over to Ozias before putting his hands through the cage and grabbing Ozias from the collar.

"Who are you to be starin at me like that, ya dirty slave!?!"

"Let go!"

The man pulled Ozias to the edge of the cage before pulling his hand with the canteen up, ready to strike it down.

"Let go of that boy! He is property of the countess herself."

Yet even though the coachman yelled at the man, it seemed to have gotten stuck between the folds of his fat. The man swung down while Ozias punched towards his face.

Because of the man's proximity, Ozias was able to pound the man through the gaps of the full metal bars, just as the man smashed his canteen onto the top of his head. The hits landed at the same moment, but the force of Ozias's punch deformed the man's face and pushed him back, causing him to collapse onto the floor. Blood trickled down Ozias's head onto the gap between his eyes and nose. Next to him, Ozias noticed the canteen, which had slipped from the man's hands when Ozias punched him. Quickly, before the coachman could realize it, he hid it under his shirt while the coachman examined the fat man.

Rather than help, the coachman looked down on him and spat, all before walking back to guide the horses. Like that, with no other occurrence, they passed through the city and reached the mines that Ozias would call home.