He pet the snout of the cow. Its dark brown fur was incredibly soft. Gorn fed the cow a piece of straw. It tilted its mouth up and its thick tongue darted out. He retracted his hands to avoid it from touching him. It had been given the name Eagle. Which really just meant that its owner had a sense of humour. Sure it had the dark brown and white patched fur that matched the color of an eagle’s but that’s where the similarities ended. It was incredibly slow with not a graceful bone in its body. It also ate nearly twice as much as a regular cow despite actually being slightly smaller than an ordinary cow.

“Don’t lick me eagle,” he said laughing.

He’d always liked animals. He had a connection to them that was hard to find in humans. It wouldn’t be wrong to say he preferred the company of animals to humans. Maybe it was that they would listen to him more than people often did.

“It must be tough for you all the way out here,” he said, scratching its chin. “You have to be out here all day in the sun draggin this cart around, they are almost working you harder than us soldiers,” he said in a baby voice.

He moved his hand and scratched underneath its harness. He could feel the indents in its thick skin from dragging the heavy cart. Eagle shifted slightly giving him a better position to scratch.

“You like that don’t you!” said Gorn chuckling.

He heard footsteps.

“Gorn, will you give me a hand!”

“Sorry Eagle,” he whispered.” TIme to get back to work.”

Gorn and Sveyn were Imperial Soldier Trainees. There hadn’t been an official war since before they were born but nevertheless the youth around the empire were eagerly signing up. Joining the military wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be. They had been forced to wear a thick chain mail shirt all day. It had terrible ventilation not to mention the fact that it weighed a ton. Although that was also part of their training. A soldier had to have a strong, enduring body after all.

Sveyn was dragging a long burlap sack behind him. He’d walked all the way back from around the massive ravine. One end was in his arms the other made shallow rivets in the rocky ground.

“Were the reports true, was there really a body all the way out here?”

“I know right, all the way out here, must have been a rival gang activity,” replied Sveyn. Gorn helped load the body onto the back next to the rest of the sacks. “You won’t believe it either but the body was in a puddle of water.”

“What really, that’s crazy!” said Gorn with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Ok, ok but just listen, the puddle around him was frozen solid, it took me like half an hour just chipping away to get him out.”

“I was wondering why you took so long,” remarked Gorn.

Sveyn unsheathed his dagger. The edge was bent at an angle, long scratches ran along its blade. “The lieutenant’s going to give me hell for this.”

“Then why did you do it?” said Gorn. “There’s no point in giving a rat's ass for some nobody, I thought being in the military would be more glorious than this but here we are on cleanup duty.”

“I just think the dead deserve a proper burial. Just doesn’t seem right, you know?”

“Hmmm,” said Gorn scratching his chin, “I never took you for that type. My opinion of you has changed a bit.”

“Wait, what was your opinion of me before?”

“You don’t want to know,” replied Gorn.

“You know something though, there was another weird thing, you’d assume the body was placed there in secret but that doesn’t make sense, I checked around and there weren’t any tracks around the body, not a single footstep, not even an animal print.”

“Where could it have come from then?” asked Gorn.

Sveyn looked up at the ravine. the rocky surface stretched further than the eye could see. The jutted out pieces of black rock were as serrated and numerous as the teeth in a shark’s mouth. The scale gave the impression that the landscape was made for creatures much bigger than themselves. The cliff face looked as if it was hewn out by an enormous blunt scythe.

“You don’t mean…”

Sveyn nodded.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Could have been a rockslide or something I don’t know but either way that’s one bad way to go, look at the jagged edges, they’re deadly but one hit might not be enough to end you. if you’re unlucky you might even be conscious on the way down.”

…

I’m cold, so cold. His mind had no room for any other thoughts.

His teeth rattled against each other. It was worse than being in a snowstorm bare chested. He’d once been camping and jumped into a lake in december. The cold had racked his body. It drowned his thoughts and his body had nearly gone into shock. He only barely managed to swim back to shore without drowning. This was far colder than that was.

Am I dead? He wondered after an eternity and a day. It didn’t feel like it. He would know. He could feel his tired body, sense the aching pain that seeped from his entire being.

He tried wrapped his shivering arms around himself but found resistance. He tried slowly making sense of his surroundings. It was pitch black, no not quite. He could see tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness; it was so faint he might have been imagining it. He was encased on all sides, wrapped up like a sardine. It wasn’t hard corners though, it was certainly not a box. It gave in to his resistance but he couldn’t do much more than wriggle- not that he had the strength for that. With great difficulty he was able to move his arms up and around him but they did nothing to warm him up. The goosebumps on his skin was the size of mustard seeds.

I’m tied up or something. His fingers traced around him. Am I in a bag? His fingernails raked over individual fibers. I’m trapped in here. He started hyperventilating. I want to get out! He heard a rip by his elbow. He froze. His fingers travelled downwards to it. He wedged his fingers in the hole and in his panic had the strength to widen it.

He stretched his arms and was able to take his head through. He gasped for breath, inhaling and exhaling deeply. A horrendous smell assaulted his nostrils. He gagged on the air and choked back saliva. He ignored it as best he could and crawled his way out like a dastardly large and sickly butterfly emerging from a cocoon. His head smacked into something and he recoiled clutching it. Goddam! What the hell was that, I almost cracked my head open! The dulled down to a gentle throb and he stood up. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Now where the hell am I? He looked around him. A faint white light revealed odd shapes around him. They were brown burlap sacks. They weren’t circular in appearance as one might think but were long with soft edges. They made his stomach queasy for reasons he couldn’t quite place his tongue on. It was one of those that he had banged his head against. It was particularly large and had protruding edges. He could feel wooden planks of the floor digging into his feet. He had somehow lost his shoes. He was on some sort of plattform.

“Why am I so cold,” he muttered, he wrapped the remains of the bag around his shoulders. It was rough and stained with dark patches of his dried blood but it did somewhat help. He was still in the clothes from that night; although calling the rags of cloth that hung to his body clothes was generous. The memory before felt so distant as if it had merely been a dream but the blood and grime on him reminded him of its very real nature. He opened and closed his hand. He thought he would be more affected by his recent trauma but it seemed strangely foreign. I don’t feel sad, it’s like I have the memory of once being sad but it's as if it's not happening to me. My pain, this aching in my limbs, the roughness of my skin, the fresh wounds that litter my insides and out. They don’t feel like I’m in pain, it feels like my body is trying to convince me that I am in pain. It's distant and removed from me.

A gust of wind tousled his hair. He was outside for sure, but where? He appeared to be in some sort of alleyway. The moon drifted boldly and alone in the night sky. He stepped off of the cart and onto the cobblestone road. It’s hard surface hurt his feet. A bird cawed somewhere in the distance.

What was he supposed to do, where was he supposed to go? He was there with ruined clothes, a tired body and a tor burlap sack. He was in a world with nothing to his name, a world where he didn’t know anyone and wounds all over his body. He clutched the burlap sack harder. There was one thing he knew, he wouldn't be able to call the Vanderbilt household his home again. He walked around to the front of the cart and saw the empty harness. Someone had dropped these sacks here and left.

He perked up his head in the silence. Somebody’s approaching. He made out two figures walking toward the cart. The one on the left wore a fur vest but it was slightly too small. His hair was unkempt and messy and looked like it hadn’t been combed ever. His face threw Maxwell of at first, it was as if it was made entirely out of right angles.

The guy on the left wasn’t any different. Maxwell had seen lots of different body types, fat, thin, muscular, some people had long arms and long legs. The closest body type this guy resembled was a full-size boar. He was considerably shorter than the one on the left but his barrel-chest was nearly twice as wide. He scratched His beard lazily with a very short arm. His forearm had more hair than what remained on his head. Aside from some stray single hairs that were uncomfortably long his head reflected the moonlight like a still lake.

He began walking toward them. They aren’t the prettiest but I don’t judge a book by its cover, maybe I can ask them for help.

“Hey exc-” One of them reached for their side and unsheathed a blade. It glinted dangerously in the moonlight. He stopped and ducked behind the cart. He pushed his back firmly against the side. Shit, they’re bad guys. He tried desperately to calm his breathing. What was I thinking? They look like they punch babies for fun. Why would I think they were friendly?

“Looks like our luck is turning around, they haven't moved on with this shipment yet. Let’s get to business,” said one of them.

The other one nodded. “You go left, I’ll go right.”

Maxwell clamped his hands over his mouth. Oh crap, they know I’m here