Chapter 10

Nightfall brought with it a steady rain. The caravan creaked to a halt as passengers scrambled to set up camp. The air was thick with the scent of damp wood as fires sputtered and hissed under the raindrops. The rain soaked through my cloak, making me question whether I should have left Spuria, bounty, or not.

I was standing next to our wagon, fiddling with a loose thread on my cloak, when I spotted the thief. I overheard one of the laborers telling him to find more firewood. He was heading into the woods alone. This was my chance to get him, so I nudged Ghis, who was busy setting up our tent.

“You wait here,” I told him. He nodded absently, too engrossed in his work.

Pulling the hood tighter around my face, I followed the thief into the shadows. The rain muted my muddy footsteps. In the distance, there was the occasional rumble of thunder as I chased after the thief, who was yet to notice me. He was gathering up some branches, trying to find some that were not too damp and would burn easily. We were far enough from the camp, so I jumped at him before he had a chance to react.

I grabbed him firmly by the collar and yanked him backward, slamming him against a nearby tree. Water dripped from his hair as he glared at me, scared and confused.

“Do you remember me?” I asked, my voice low and deliberate. It was a line I’d always wanted to use, and it felt fitting in the moment.

The thief blinked, startled, and then frowned. “No.”

There was an awkward silence.

"Huh? Come on, it's only been a day," I complained.

The thief looked apologetic. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure we’ve never met. And I’d never forget an ugly face like that.”

I was genuinely offended for a moment before remembering the spell Ghis had put on the cloak. With a sigh, I loosened the cloak and yanked it off. I felt something shimmer on my face, and recognition struck the thief’s face like a bolt of lightning. The shift in his demeanor was immediate. His apologetic face turned into an expression of wide-eyed terror, and he began stammering apologies.

"I-I didn't know it was you! Please forgive me! I didn't mean to…"

“Didn’t mean to what?” I snapped. “It’s your fault I’m broke! Practically penniless because of you!”

The thief straightened, his fear giving way to indignation. “I didn’t force you to throw your gold away. That was all you.”

The sheer audacity of his argument left me momentarily speechless, and the worst thing was that he was right. Not having a proper response, I just scowled and continued. “Shut up. You’re going to repay me for all the trouble I’m going through.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “If I had money, you think I’d be stealing? I’m leaving town because I owe half of Spuria more than I’ll ever make in a lifetime. So, I joined up with this caravan to skip town as soon as possible.”

I wanted to argue further but couldn’t come up with a good retort. He was bringing up some good points, and the rain was dampening my anger anyway. I let him go, and he crumpled to the forest floor like a sack of potatoes. With my cloak back on, there was another shimmering feeling on my face as I turned to leave.

“That’s it?” he called after me in confusion. “You’re just going to walk away?”

“Too much of a hassle to do anything else,” I muttered.

“Wait!” he said, running after me, holding some branches under his arms. “I’ll pay you back! Once we reach Baran, I’ve got a foolproof plan to get rich.”

Somehow, I doubted that. I had a feeling his 'plan' was only going to land him in more trouble. I asked him, "Why would you need me for that without stopping?"

“Protection,” he admitted. “You’re the guy who saved the city, aren’t you? Might as well put those skills to use.”

As we finally made our way back to camp, I noticed that the storm was getting worse. Thunder rolled ominously overhead, and the thief's persistence was wearing thin on my patience. "Why are you so determined to stick around me?" I asked.

He shrugged, smirking. "It doesn't hurt to have a strong friend. Besides, you’re already a hero.”

I snorted. “If I’m a hero, why are there wanted posters with my face on them?”

“Who knows?” he said with a casual wave. “Heard the Duke ordered them himself. Maybe he just wants to reward you.”

That news only deepened my unease. What the crippled old man had told me about the duke did not paint him as the kind of man to offer rewards. I felt that I had made the right choice by leaving early. However, as soon as that thought crossed my mind, regret followed almost instantaneously. I'd begun to notice a pattern—trouble always seemed to appear whenever I thought I was safe from it.

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Sure enough, an instant later, a loud shout cut through the rain, followed by the unmistakable scrape of swords being unsheathed. I looked at the source of the shout; it was the merchant carriage at the other end of camp.

Half a dozen shadowy figures had emerged from the forest, covered in black bandages, their movements predatory and precise. The merchant’s guards had drawn their swords, and formed a protective half-circle around the carriage. There was widespread panic as the other travelers left their own tents and scattered in every direction, away from the impending battle.

Out of nowhere, Ghis appeared at my side. He had found a bottle somewhere and took a sip from it before asking me nonchalantly. “What do we do?”

I crossed my arms, pretending to consider it. “Nothing. Not our fight. Besides, the guards outnumber them by six to five. They can handle it.”

Just then, one of the guards—the same one who’d laughed at me earlier—was hurled through the air, landing with a groan at my feet. Ghis raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, but they’re still equally matched. Five to five. Also, still not our fight,” I said, taking a step back from the guard’s unconscious body.

“If the merchant’s daughter gets hurt, they’ll probably turn the caravan back to Spuria,” Ghis pointed out. “On the other hand, if she’s fine, the caravan leader will almost definitely be told to get to Baran faster.”

I sighed, weighing my options. Getting involved again didn’t seem like a good option, but I still needed to make sure the caravan kept going. The thought of returning to Spuria loomed in my head, where my poster was likely already plastered on every wall. I thought about sending Ghis in to fight, but I remembered how easily I had dispatched him myself, and I didn’t want to endanger my one friend that easily.

“Fine,” I muttered, turning to the thief. “Go handle it.”

He recoiled. “Me?! My only strength is running away!”

I groaned. Thieves in RPGs were always resourceful and good with daggers, at least. This guy, on the other hand, looked weak enough that a small breeze could blow him over.

I started walking towards the fight, hoping it would be over by the time I got there. During the course of my conversation, three more guards had gone down, along with one of the shadowy assassins. It was now four against two and things weren’t looking good for the guards.

One of the guards saw me approaching the fight and stared at me suspiciously. He was a grizzled old man whom I decided was probably the captain of the guards. He seemed to come to the conclusion that I was on his side because he started giving me orders.

“Take the Lady to safety!” the captain barked at me.

Clearly, he’d given up on winning the fight and wanted the merchant’s daughter to be taken away. I ignored him and approached the assassins, hoping my presence alone would intimidate them.

It didn’t.

For a moment, only the pounding rain filled the silence, and there was a fleeting calm before chaos descended. The assassins and the guards stopped their standoff, and they all turned to look at me. The one closest to me considered me for a moment before throwing his head back with a loud laugh.

“What’s an ugly kid like you going to do?” he said arrogantly.

I was getting very annoyed now at the ugly comments, even though it wasn’t my real face.

"Well, if you're so much better, why don’t you stop hiding your face, you bastard?" I shot back at him.

He took off some of his bandages and showed me his face with a sneer.

"Shit," I thought to myself. "He is pretty good-looking."

I wanted to kill him even more now. The problem was I didn’t know how I would do that. So far, my powers had never worked the way I’d wanted. They had always appeared at random and never worked how I had hoped. Still, I waved my hand like I always did, hoping for a lightning bolt to strike the assassins. They wouldn’t look so pretty after that.

The sky answered immediately. Lightning shot down, striking the nearest tree and setting it ablaze instantly, while the assassins stood unharmed, though looking a little shocked.

The one who had taken his mask off came to his senses and shouted at his comrades.

“He’s a sorcerer, get him first!”

The assassins all turned on me, and I took a step back, ready to run. Things were not going according to plan.

Suddenly, there was a loud creaking sound, and the burning tree toppled. The assailants rushing at me were crushed beneath its weight. No screams followed, so I assumed they had all died on impact.

Ghis sauntered up, looking annoyed himself. “That’s what they get for mocking my craftsmanship.”

He looked at the burning tree and shouted, "It's not that easy making a whole new face, you know."

The guard captain approached cautiously, still holding his sword. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Just a baker and his ugly friend,” Ghis said.

“And the ugly guy’s comrade-in-arms,” added the thief, who had conveniently reappeared now that the danger was gone.

I turned to walk away, yanking the thief away by the collar and with Ghis beside me.

“Wait,” a voice called out from the carriage, and I turned back to look.

The merchant’s daughter stepped out, regal and composed despite the chaos. An older woman clung to her arm, her face pale with terror. I guessed it was her maid.

“Wait,” the girl said, her voice calm and authoritative. “I owe you my thanks, good sir. I am Lady Jessica Maxwell.”

She inclined her head slightly, a gesture that hovered between genuine gratitude and condescension. “I will repay you upon our arrival in Baran. But only if you continue to protect us.”

The guard captain bristled. “Lady Jessica, please. We don’t know who these people are. They could have staged the attack.”

The girl dismissed him with a wave. “If he can summon lightning, he doesn’t need to resort to tricks.”

I was impressed by the girl’s quick thinking and composure, but her tone annoyed me. “No thanks,” I said. “I’d rather not get involved.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You already are. I assume you stepped in either for a reward or to make sure the caravan continues on its way to Baran. Any further attacks would involve you anyway. Why not get paid for it?”

I opened my mouth to argue but found myself at a loss. Damn it, she had a point. Before I could respond, the thief piped up.

“He agrees,” he said cheerfully.

I smacked him upside the head but nodded reluctantly. The girl smiled faintly—her first genuine expression of the night—and promised a hefty reward upon our arrival, along with finding a mage to “fix my face.”

Ghis bristled at the insult, but I held him back. The girl offered a small bow before retreating to the carriage with her maid. The guard captain gave me a reluctant nod, too, and thanked me for my help. I nodded back and started walking towards my tent.

I saw the caravan leader approaching me, his expression a mix of relief and suspicion. I was in no mood to explain myself any further.

“Ghis,” I said. “Handle this. I’m going to sleep.”

Without waiting for a response, I turned and headed back to my tent, ignoring the rain and the chaos. Sleep was calling, and I intended to answer.