“For the love of the Gods, shut up with the lore dumping!” A shrill voice called out, seemingly towards no one. “We coulda been half way through this arc but nooo, we had to learn half the damn story before it even began!” The sarcasm on the voice was mixed with irritation. The voice seemed to echo through Alice’s head like a bell, seeming to do a better job than an alarm in waking her up.

She was dazed, one eye opened slightly to reveal a bright light she had to block with her hand. She felt like she had slept on hardwood all night long, her back hurt and so did her head.

Her head? That’s right, she got attacked! She quickly sprang up, her confusion turned to anger as both her eyes were flashed by the same light. She began rattling off instructions.

“Whoever you are, you better have some damn good training, because when I get out of here I’m gonna-” Her anger again turned to confusion as her eyes adjusted, revealing a long cart covered with bars and chains. She looked around before noticing the chain on her left arm. “I…”

The same shrill voice remarked. “Oh, she’s finally awake. Wakey wakey, lady, if we gotta go through this crap then so do you!” His voice remained equally sarcastic. The voice belonged to a rowdy Scalsan, this one a lighter shade of green. His snout was round and he had dull blue feathers protruding out of his head to form the shape of a flattened mohawk. “Rise and shine!”

“Wh… what? Where am I? What’s going on?” Alice’s eyes frantically moved about, scanning the area. To her right, next to the lizard were two more individuals, both humans. The first wore a tattered cloak and a wide brimmed hat, a filthy and heavily patched scarf wrapped around his lower jaw like a bandana. The cowboy’s hair seemed black, but his hat shrouded it in a dark shadow, though his hazel eyes pierced through that darkness like a silver blade.

The guy next to the cowboy ripoff wore a more formal attire, his once white and gray-plaid button-up shirt was dirtied by the dust and debris present around them. His hair was a dirty blonde, and though it was obviously dirty from the filth they sat in, it still seemed properly combed forward and cut so it wouldn’t go past the top of his forehead. He seemed to be in his late twenties to early thirties judging by his face, which was an oval shape with a cleft chin.

Alice was still confused. The cart they were all sitting in was larger than what most animals would be able to pull. She looked to her left, towards the front of the moving cart. Through the bars she saw tufts of grayish fur, splotched with black and fairly matted down. A faint growl sent chills down her spine.

“How did I get here?” She asked, looking around once again. “I was almost out of the forest… then I was attacked. We’re still near Merla, right?”

The lizard blinked once, and then began laughing. Through his chuckles he answered, “Oh, we’re a pretty long distance from there, princess. Anweon’s neutral territory, which means they wouldn’t be able to get away with this. My guess is that they’ve gotten to Liberation territory to play it off like they found you there!” The lizard’s laughs died, but his snarky behavior didn’t. “Welcome to Briarteal.” The military forces of the Prophet himself, Cyber… but Anweon was neutral…

Alice’s eyes widened slightly, as a plume of dust wafted up from her foot swiping the floor in shock. “Briarteal, that’s at least a two day ride on horseback! How long was I out for!?”

“You were out cold when they threw you in here, that’s all I know.” The lizard shrugged.

“Gods-be-damned Bogans…” The formal man spoke through gritted teeth. He stared out of the bars, watching the trail. “I knew they had something to do with the disappearances.”

Alice recognized the events the man referred to. Throughout many of the kingdoms, people were disappearing as if thin air. Anweon had suffered the most from the strange occurrence. “Are you from Anweon too?” She asked, slightly hopeful.

The man sighed before chuckling, turning and tipping a nonexistent invisible hat, the chain around his arm rattling. “Daniel McKnight, Royal Detective Agency, at your service!” He said, his sarcasm matching that of the lizard’s level.

“The RDA…” Alice knew that if a Royal Detective was captured, there were some real problems going on within her own kingdom she had no idea of. She turned to the others in the cart, and considering she’d probably be stuck with them for a while, she may as well get to know her new ‘pals’. “My name’s Alice. Alice Spencerson.” she said, pausing in anticipation.

The detective’s head perked up at the name. “Spencerson, you’re a Spencerson?” he asked, his voice changing to a more concerned tone. “If they have a member of the royal family here… dammit, where are they taking us?”

The lizard laughed again. “You Anweos are real characters. I should’ve known there was a reason they had one of their own here. We’re going to the Rind, the POW camp for their ‘special’ catches.” he tapped the bar that lay behind him. “And also… the name’s Knox, since I know you’re all just so desperate to know.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed. “One of their own?” Knox nodded slowly, pointing a finger to a shadowy space to the left of her, where the ragged, still silent man had been gazing at the whole time. Knox then turned his attention to the other occupant of their little home. “How about you, cowboy? Whadda they call you?”

The ragged figure slowly turned towards the others. “Lockheed.” was all he said, before turning his attention back to staring at the dark space. Alice followed his stare before being surprised by a voice coming from that direction.

“Cymia.” a female voice came from the dark space, before the figure leaned forward from where she was sitting. If the short, rabbit-like ears didn’t make her stand out, the pale, purplish skin certainly did. Cymia’s hair was white like a ghost, and long enough to reach the top of her eyes as the rest rolled out to her shoulders on the backside. Like all Bogans, her eyes had crimson pupils and were a lighter shade of red. She was smaller in size than Alice, her features delicate. The female Bogan’s face seemed unamused by the situation she was in.

Knox rested his head on one of his hands as his eyes narrowed. “So, what exactly does a Bogan have to do to get sent to a place like the Rind?” he asked, intrigued as he put a hand on his chin, pretending to be resting on an invisible table. Cymia was stern with her answer.

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Well, we’re all gonna be here for a while, so I could use the story to help pass the time.” He turned to Lockheed, tilting his head as he pretended to dislodge his hand from his chin. “What’s your problem? You haven’t taken your eyes off her this whole time.”

Lockheed didn’t turn this time. “...Don’t trust ‘em.” Was all he said.

“Well, aren’t you the talker…” Knox was seemingly irritated by the lack of things going on. He turned behind him, facing the right side of the barred cart. “Hey, Rubygazer, how much longer until we get to your shithole of a camp? I can only take so long planning an escape before it becomes arbitrary!” He asked, using a common derogatory name for Bogans towards one of the guards next to the cart. The Bogan merely growled at him as a response. The male Bogans that Alice could see matched their skin color and ears with Cymia, but most of them had their equally white hair buzzed off, as was common for Bogan soldiers, for some reason. Something to do with the practices of their ancestors, probably.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The animal the guard was riding also growled, but it's growl seemed to match that of the beast that had been pulling the cart. Alice tensed up slightly at the sound. Knox shook his head as he glanced back at her. “Bog wolves. I’m assuming they’re bigger than the ones that live around here?” He asked Alice, leading to her slowly nodding as she stared at it. “Makes sense, everything where the Bogans come from is bigger and uglier.” he shrugged, the chain around his hand clinking against the cold gray bars behind him.

The guard riding the wolf slowly turned to Alice, the metal mask on its face hiding any emotion as it stared. Alice turned away quickly, although she could still feel its gaze for a few seconds longer before it slowly turned back in front of it and the beast it rode.

Daniel looked towards Cymia’s direction, before looking to the ground. “That’s enough, Knox.” he said, under his breath. “We’re all in this together now, even her.”

“Easy for you to say. By the Dire, I was on a different cart before they moved me to this one. There were other Scalsans on it and I guess they didn’t like us conversing in a language they don’t understand.”As the lizard said this, Daniel’s head perked up. “Other carts? I thought the thing being pulled behind us was storage for their food.”

“Aye, there’s two ahead of this one. We’re on the caboose. That ‘thing’ you’re referring to is the solitary cell. Some Blackblood fella wouldn’t shut up and attacked one of the guards, he’s the one in there.” Knox pointed towards the cart behind them, it was a lot smaller, and instead of bars was surrounded by a full metal casing, minus a small rectangle shaped hole in the side of it. “Strange fella, with the head of hair he had I thought he was just an ugly gal until he spoke.”

Knox drew a wicked grin. “It’s alright they moved me, though. I already got my plan across…” The others glanced towards the front end of the cart, sight blocked by the behemoth of a bog wolf, which resembles more of a giant hyena than anything, pulling them. Cymia’s red eyes grew suspicious as she looked Knox up and down. “Plan? What did you do, Scalsan?”

Knox rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you, but only if you say why they locked you up with us. You don’t happen to have a soul shard, do you?” He asked. Both Lockheed and Daniel eyed each other before they glanced at Cymia.

Something clicked in Alice’s head. The lizard had mentioned that they were going where special prisoners go. Of course they’d want those with soul shards to be grouped in one place.

“No, I don’t.” Cymia glanced towards the bars. “I’m here because I’m a Bogan.” She seemed distant. That didn’t sit right with Alice, but now that she thought about it, things made less sense. She didn’t have a soul shard either, so either the Bogans made a mistake, placing two non-users in this caravan, or there’s something else going on…

Alice recalled what she had learned about soul shards in her schooling:

Soul shards were by most means an extension of one’s soul. You get them from feeling a very strong emotion, and the emotion also decides the color of it.

-Red is anger and hatred

-Blue is sadness and sorrow

-Orange is fear

-Purple is love

-Green is joy

-And yellow is peace or tranquility

They manifest from their surroundings, being formed from anything from dust particles smithed together by the wind to a single stone laying near the individual. Soul shards give their ‘spellcaster’ a sort of magic, allowing them to perform a certain ability unique to them. The ability they get is decided by both the personality of the user, and the situation in which they received it. The teacher that she had learned it from used herself as an example: During her younger years as a vagrant she had been trapped in the wreckage of a building that was being demolished. From pure fear of death, an orange soul shard formed from the ash around her, and she gained the ability to control metal with her hands.

Many believe soul shards are created by Mariah, the matriarch in the pantheon of Gods that make the dominant religion in Lepthalys, their world. Although each region has its own patron God, they respect the authority of the whole pantheon. Mariah, however, is held above all others, for she is the creator, and the Goddess of fate, life and, of course, magic. She bestows those she sees as worthy with the soul shards, as it is fate that ties the shard to its user.

Alice had always wanted a soul shard, but being royalty she was barely ever put in situations where she’d have strong enough emotions. The closest she ever got was when her uncle, the former king, died. He was a good person, and a great father figure to her since her own father and the king’s brother in law met a similar fate in the field of battle before Alice was born.

Alice’s train of thought was derailed after she remembered something. “If you guys have soul shards, why don’t you use them?” She asked, glancing at the three men in front of her.

“Don’t you think we would’ve done that, or more importantly that the Bogans prepared to transport people with them?” Daniel asked, his left leg crossing onto the other. “Besides, mine isn’t useful unless we somehow get outta here.”

“These cuffs around our arms, my dear, are inhibitors.” Knox said, as snarky as before. “Imbued with the magic-sapping technology of Hugo, the Bogan’s ‘patron’ God.” he used hand quotations with this remark. “God of technology and wisdom, and the only Bogan I respect.” He knew everyone around him was well aware of one of the more commonly prayed to Gods, but he was always one to push peoples' buttons, especially the buttons of Bogans...

“Enough!” Daniel said, glancing at Cymia again. Lockheed simply shook his head as he glanced towards the floor. “Now you better explain to us, how in the name of the Gods do you plan to get out of this cart?” Daniel’s tone was that of someone who’d heard enough bullshit for a while. “What in the Dire did you tell your Scalsan pals ahead of us?”

“...quiet.” Lockheed said, glancing behind himself towards some guards outside. Cymia understood what he meant. “If the guards hear what you’re saying, your plan shall fail.”

Knox merely laughed at the comment. “They don’t care what we say to each other in here. They just don’t want any of us speaking.” He motioned towards himself. “They’d get suspicious if this cart was full of all humans, all Scalsan or all Bogan and they were talking about escape. They know that nationality is a big point in getting people to work together, and they know that most races want to rip each other’s necks out, as true as it is...”

Cymia leaned forward again. “Alright, wise guy, then what makes you want to help us get out too, if we’d want to rip your neck out?” Her voice seemed more stern.

“Simple. I don’t need any of you for the plan. It wouldn’t matter if you were all Bogans, heck, even if you were Verman. All I need is myself, you all just get to reap the rewards of freedom once it comes into play.” Knox talked as if he was doing an interview, in a matter-of-fact manner. “Besides, all we need are these inhibitors off, and all the guards are equipped with the key for it. Bogans were never the brightest colored pepper in the pot.” The Scalsan proverb going over their heads.

Alice glanced around her. Not only were there two guards on either side, along with the masked creep riding a bog wolf, but there were multiple guards on foot between them and the solitary confinement cart. Not to mention however many were in front where they couldn’t see. Even if they did somehow get out of the barred carts, they might have to fight their way through Briarteal reinforcements once they figure out their ally is under attack. “Do any of you have weapons to even defend yourself once you get out?” Alice asked, her confusion prominent.

“Ah, they have our crap stored underneath the cart, along with our soul shards.” Knox knocked on the wooden boards that they all rested on. “I don’t need my weapon anyways. As long as I could get this inhibitor off, my soul shard would take care of the rest.” He seemed calm, as if his plan was going to succeed no matter what happened.

“Fine, believe in your misguided fantasies.” Cymia said, glancing over towards Lockheed, who had his chin in his thumb and pointer finger from considering his options. “But don’t drag me into it once-”

She was interrupted by the cart stalling to a halt, the living cargo being thrown to their side as the momentum carried them. The stop was followed by indiscriminate yelling from what could only be the Bogan guards up front speaking the Bogan tongue.

“What happened… what are they saying?” Daniel asked.

Cymia sat quietly for a second, listening to the guards. “...there’s a problem. Some of the prisoners in the carts ahead are... missing?” She said, her confusion matching that of the others in the cart. All except Knox.

“That, my newfound comrades, is your ticket home.” He said, pointing his finger towards the ceiling of the cart. “At least now we can finally get this story started…”

“Many soul shard users find themselves in positions of power, for when chaos runs amok, the people will always turn to the strong for their saviors.”

-Sir Greyson, Anweos philosopher, 387 3rd era