Did hunger finally get me this time?

Opening my crusted eyes was a chore in itself. Realization that I was still in the land of the living was not a joyous one, at least death carried all the pain of life with it. On numerous occasions I've awoken wondering if the reaper had taken me for a ride. Today, it doesn't seem like I had a ticket as raw soreness permeated throughout my entire body, leaving me aching with every attempt at movement. All I could hear was the rickety wheels of a wagon and feel its many attempts at hitting every bump in the road.

"Daddy he moved!"

A small child, with a horn sticking out the backside of her head which curved over the top, poked me with her pointer finger to confirm.

I slowly sat up straight to glance around my surroundings and see what misfortune had befallen me this time. It took a moment to ease the throbbing headache latched to my brain, never have I ever had one so intense. Sitting on the side bench of a rocking covered wagon, I saw full wooden crates packed to the brim with fruit. Sparrow Kingdom agricultural goods by the looks of it; they have the best peasant management farming techniques to date. Made sense considering that was where the town I blacked out in was located. With all this potential loot around me, I couldn't help but feel the greed in my eyes start to shine a bit. It's a decent haul that would sell for enough to keep a family of four alive for a cycle or one man alive for four if you catch my drift. I know this information comes fresh because i’ve hit several wagons in my day. When you're an orphan which nobody cares about on this brutal plane, you can easily find yourself deep in shady shit.

Tilting her head forty-five degrees, the Shale girl who couldn't be older than five cycles looked at me with her curious purple eyes. Shales, native to the west—or was it the south? Her plain cotton sundress against her slightly darkened skin screamed the west, but then again, it could have been imported. The Empire was vast and held a multitude of races and creatures, anything was possible. Pretty cocky to call your empire 'The Empire' though when you were not the only one, nevertheless, The Empire has power and power rules.

I took a gander outside the back to see endless rolling green plains, a pleasant sight compared to most. Beefy guards on standard horses straddled the bouncing wagon on both sides, each big enough to take on two men. There were more similarly covered wagons in front and back, but I wasn't in a viewable position to count how many.

"You awake boy? Ellie get da boy some grub will ya?" A hearty voice boomed from the front drivers seat.

"Hi I’m Ellie."

I thought for a second about lying but that seemed pointless.

"...Esried."

Ellie smiled and pulled out various fruits from a brown sack nearby. Not caring for my rudeness, I snatched the bruised but colorful fruit from her dainty hands and ate them whole. Juices ran down my lips as I savored the sweet natural flavors, something that hasn't happened to me in a long time. Hunger has been my mortal enemy as long as I can remember, and any day I can shove my middle finger up it's posterior was a win in my book, damn etiquette.

After eating what I felt was way over a modest amount for a guest, I climbed over some of the wooden crates to reach the front and sat next to my savior—or captor. Slavery exists in The Empire but so does chivalry. In my opinion, it's a weird combination to be fighting for honor and to own another person, but chivalry just has different definitions to different people I guess.

While tying the reins down, the massive man sitting in the wagon's driver seat looked over to me. Both his burly hands holding the thick reins are large enough to crush my neck with ease. His chiseled body announced himself as a very physical, capable man. His horn, similar to the one that came from what I assumed to be his daughter, also protruded from the back of his head. A really worn but sturdy brown vest with simple blue shorts completed his image.

"Hello Esreid! How are you feeling?" The man spoke loudly as if I was across the room.

"Fine, thank you. Where am I?"

"You are on the Kitchroale Caravan my boy! We were passing by the town of Poleman. It was completely void of life except for you lying on the empty road. We picked you up, then we left quite quickly. Creepy stuff really. Care to explain what happened to the town?" The man squinted ever so slightly.

The town was empty? Before I passed out, there were tons of people moving about.

"No sir. I was knocked unconscious one moment and then I woke up here next. Thank you for picking me up sir,” I said.

Not a complete lie but not the entire truth either.

"Hmmm. I understand..." he said.

Shit. Fuck. He knows im withholding information, and my excuse has no substance. Well... don't panic. He won't push you; He doesn't want to corner you. Desperate people do desperate things.

Despite my panic, we continued with the casual small talk, each prying the other for tidbits of information. Apparently the man's name was Tolgaudhster Kitchroale, ninth son of Slaellots Kitchroale. The family had been a traditional trading merchant caravan family for generations, traveling the plane making good money. Tolgaudhster himself had been working the wagons his entire life under his older brother who was the chief of this particular caravan. Thankfully, he had offered to drop me off at the next sign of civilization.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Hopefully the next village will earn me more than the last, mainly because variances in village wealth are at an all time high. I will have to keep on the move since you never want to stay in one place too long as a thief, even if I find a top coin village.

When I was just about to give him a bullshit story about myself, the swaying wagon convoy lurched to a complete stop.

"Leave half your wagons and you may pass!" A voice from the right side of the caravan yelled.

Dreading the prospects of what was said, I poked my head out forward and turned toward the voice hoping to be wrong. I saw roughly forty scattered men, ten of which were on horseback. Every single one was wearing the same matching red shirts with hatchets and machetes in hand.

Back on our side, about nineteen decently armed guards swiftly lined up arms width apart, backs straight, and facing the forty unruly bunch. Their clean cut green and black uniforms were a stark contrast to the rugged bandits.

A man who looked similar to the one next to me, who I assumed was Tolgaudhster's older brother, stepped forward to speak, "We will not be leaving our wagons nor giving in to any of your demands. As chief of this here caravan, I strongly advise you to turn back or there will be consequences. I will also have you know that I have a very strong mage under my employment."

A mage? Hell yeah! Mages weren't particularly rare and their strength varied greatly from person to person but having one versus not having one was all the more better.

Eyeing their comrades for assurance, each and every bandit took some time to reconsider their stance on this hit. A capable mage could easily turn a two to one advantage even, however, it mostly depended on the price you were willing to pay when hiring one. The bandit in front on horseback and presumably the leader cursed in frustration, further dropping the initial excitement in the raiding party's eyes.

A moment of silence amplified the peaceful swaying prairie grass which had no concern for the matters taking place.

"IT'S ONE MAGE. FUCK E'M UP! MOST HEADS GETS FIRST DIBS ON THE WOMEN!" The leader started the charge before any of his men had time to think further. Fortunately for him, they followed: For in their mind, pussy matters. At least, that was what I've seen other bandits fight for.

As the horseback bandits charged first with iron weapons raised high and poised to strike, the caravan guards stood steady unsheathing their longswords. The rest of the caravan crew grabbed whatever weapon they could find and filed in behind the guards, including Tolgaudhster. Meanwhile, most of the women and children were herded into some of the more sturdy looking wagons for a quick escape in case things went south, telling me they've lost in situations like this before.

Damnit, I don't want any part in this. Trusting my instincts, possible escape routes started forming as the two opposing sides were about to clash, when a brilliant idea suddenly hit me. Although it's a bit of a bitch move, why don't I just take a wagon? It's only one wagon, which isn't that big of a loss. To be fair, there was a chance for the bandits to win and take all the goods, calling it morally grey sounds about right to me.

Smelling the cache of delicious fruits, the decision in my head was more than confirmed, solidifying my choice. To be honest, I don't really know these people. We literally just met. Without further hesitation, I grabbed the reins to the two large oxen and continued to usher them forward with the best of my ability. Unfortunately for me, several horseback bandits took notice and broke off for the hunt, spurring their horses for a quick catch.

Wasn't the caravan suppose to be winning? They have a freaking mage for crying out loud! Continuously taking looks behind me, I counted three thugs with snarling faces catching up at a rapid pace. Not that I was moving very fast in the first place, considering I had no wagon driving experience.

"DADDY! WHERE ARE YOU?" Ellie cried out with a muddled voice.

Turns out she never left, her small body hidden by a couple stacked wooden food crates. Fuck, really? Ellie jumped out and bounced on the ground mostly unharmed, rolling like a tumbleweed. The wagon wasn't moving very fast to begin with due to my poor driving skills and pulling the reins required muscles I don’t have. It also helped that Shales have thicker, studier skin than humans.

Galloping rapidly, three horses at least four times Ellie's size were directly pounding their way toward her, getting closer every second. I quickly jerked on the reins to halt the wagon, irritating the large oxen enough to actually stop. Even though I may be a scummy thief, there are limits to how low I will go.

Right as I jumped off to run to the back, a machete swung over my head splitting a few of my head hairs. Two bandits encircled me as I saw the third standing over Ellie who was trudging away from behind the wagon. One of the first two riders got off their horse and pinned me to the wagon with ease, a little pressure which locked me down completely. I guess this is where it ends, like a minor character in a shitty novel. So who is the main character?

Wearing a perverted smile, the third man raised his clearly unsharpened machete over Ellie’s head for the kill. What the fuck? This isn't right. You are supposed to kill me and enslave her. Don’t you idiots have it mixed up?

To be real, I didn't choose my path. The plane was a lonely place, and there are more people than there are caring souls. Thievery was my main profession because it was all I was ever good at, taking as much as I could so I didn't have to later. Theft was as far as I would go because my body demanded it, but today I wanted to kill. A person that beheaded children deserved death.

"Stop!" I screamed.

Struggling helplessly with all my might, physical strength alone wasn't enough to break the bandit's grip over me. The third bandit's blade swung down in what felt like slow motion ignoring my shouts of desperation.

*Boom*

A wave of pure mana violently crashed out ripping the three bandits apart into a bloody mist. Before I could assess the situation, a hacking cough overtook me along with a dizzy spell that hit me. Did I do that? Shit. What was that? Kicking dirt up in the process, I quickly dashed toward Ellie who was lying on her side. Turning her over, half her face was melted off. Her left eye was completely missing while large sections of cheek were vaporized beyond comprehension. The girl was undeniably dead.

Smelling raw flesh, my stomach churned momentarily but settled just as quickly. Lucky for me, death was no stranger.

Assessing my situation, I really needed to leave, staying at the location of the crime was bad for self-preservation. Choosing a random direction away from the caravan, my legs kicked into high gear, never stopping.

After a good chunk of distance, I heard the most grueling cry of anguish, twisting my heart. The fight must have ended, and Tolgaudhster had found Ellie left mutilated in the empty plains. Like a swift kick to the gut, my human side hit me with some empathy. Losing somebody close was a memory far to known.

Today, a little piece of me died and a little piece of me grew.