The full moon shined on the village as I slid out my window. I quickly skitted down the wet shingles, then leaped down.

A wing, bright white as an angel’s, sprouted from my back and flapped, halting my momentum when I fell.

That wing, my [life wing], was a gift from my patron god, Seraph.

Crouching, I swiftly jogged down the gravel road. I hardly made a sound, having done this sort of thing many times.

And hopefully for the last.

Nobody was out at this hour, but I did need to worry just a little about the village watch, who would be walking by the palisade. They always changed watches five minutes after the sun rose over the horizon, so I couldn’t let them catch me out in that small timeframe.

I unclipped my slate as I made it to my first destination, the food processor’s hut.

I read from what I had written down on the slate:

{3 jars of elekit-pickled carrot, 2 packs of dried monster meat, 2 packs of dried boar meat, and 3 packs of dried vegetables.} I wrote, grammar and all.

I snuck around the hut, then slipped in. The Summer’s family wouldn’t be awake at this time, although some people were, preparing for their sunrise activities.

Inside the hut, it was sweltering hot, as if I’d just walked into a Summer heatwave.

Heh, Summer.

The meat and vegetables were drying, but from what I understood, they should have been finished by now. I had already bought the elekit-pickled carrots earlier since the finished food would be locked away in the cellar.

Before I started sweating too hard, I quickly gathered the meat and vegetables, stuffing them into ‘plastic’ bags, which I sealed by tying them up, then threw them into my backpack as I walked out.

I took a coin from my pocket and, after some deliberation, threw it on the ground. I really wasn’t a thief, and I’d prefer not to be.

I ran down towards the guard’s post next. Rain had begun to fall, drizzling lightly on my robe. When I approached the torchlit post, a wooden building made to accompany not too many people, I waited. A guard quickly jogged from the building in haste, probably because he was late. Well, that’s good luck.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I quickly ran to the post and opened the door into it. As quickly as I could, I made my way to a cubby and locker in the corner labeled ‘Wilka’. Neither were locked in any way, as I already knew, so I took a sword in its scabbard from the locker and the pair of [intermediate boots] from the cubby. After that, I peered out the outpost door, my heart racing.

I smiled as I realized nobody was there to stop me from stealing the items, then ran to the treeline I had come from.

I quickly hid behind a bush, chuckling to myself.

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“Nobody is here to stop me, [mute] girl. You whine and complain about how you haven’t gotten enough and look down on the people who never got the opportunities you have!”

I received a kick to my stomach and was sent flying into the outpost’s wall. I fumbled to unclip my slate and started to write, but he kicked the slate from my hand.

“Do you think everyone got to be a magician? Your damned mother and everyone else treat you like a gift from Seraph, but you’re just a fucking runt.”

Tears ran from my eyes as my hands twitched in anger, anger towards myself. I was weak, I never had the chance to prove I was strong.

I leaped to the side, then quickly threw a stone at his face. Wilka was clearly caught off-guard but quickly relaxed, letting the stone hit his forehead.

He frowned calmly, blood dribbling from his forehead to his mouth. “Was that aggravated assault?” He spat on the ground, his demeanor changing. “Now say sorry, or the guard might need to use drastic measures.”

Panicked and scared, I crawled to my slate.

Just as I reached for it, my head was stomped into the ground.

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Yeah, I didn’t give a shit about paying that guy back.

I waited until the guard that had been on watch walked back into the post, then ran.

It wasn’t all too difficult to leave or even enter the village if you knew what you were doing, but nobody the guards cared enough to stop would know what they were doing. I made my way to a section of the palisade that had been battered quite hard over the years, with erosion from the frequent rainfall causing the gravel and dirt up the slope to make it lean outward. I slid down the gravel hill after I swapped on the [intermediate boots], which formed to fit my feet, then began to climb the slanted stakes.

As I did, I briefly looked behind myself.

Nobody looked on at me as I leaped over for one last time and ran into the forest.