“A life with no struggle is a life with no substance. A life with no substance is a life with no beauty.”

Someone told me that when I was back in the cells. At the time, I didn’t understand. All my life, I wondered why I had to endure such suffering. It had been like that since birth, forced to partake in cruel labor. Suffering wasn’t anything new. It was the norm. But even so, I despised every bit of it.

It wasn’t until I met someone that I caught a glimpse of beauty. It was like looking at a lone star in the sky, wondering how it could shine when surrounded by darkness. I admired every bit of her and cherished every moment with her.

But now, she is gone. She would never walk on this land ever again. Beauty was stripped away from me, and now I walked the lands drenched in loneliness.

Well, for the most part.

How is this place so lively?

That question spun around my mind while squeezing through the crowd.

The moon shone, and vendors were out, welcoming everyone with kind-hearted smiles, hoping to earn a profit. Children held hands with their guardians as they maneuvered through the dense crowd. People yelled for a cheaper price on the item they couldn’t afford. I could see why the guards spoke ill about high vending towns. If this was the outside world, then I wanted no part of it.

I moved through the crowd alone, trying to get myself into a quieter place. There were too many people, too many noises, and too many things happening simultaneously, something I wasn’t used to. I kept my face concealed with a hood, stuffed my hands in the thin pockets of my cardigan, and walked with my head slanted toward the ground.

While squeezing through tight gaps, I accidentally bumped into someone, causing food to drop.

“S-Sorry,” I muttered.

The kid looked at me with teary eyes. “You meanie!” He then spouted unpronounced words I couldn’t understand.

I turned, ignoring the child’s tantrum, when a thick hand grabbed my shoulder.

It was a middle-aged man, presumably the father. His hairy chest could pop through his white shirt, and his beard was the longest I’ve seen. That wasn't saying much since I've only been in the outside world for a few months.

“May I ask for an apology to my son?”

Did I not apologize?

I said a bit louder this time, “Sorry.”

“Good,” he grinned, “Now, do you mind handing me some change to buy a new one?”

“I don't have money.”

"Liar. You do; otherwise, you wouldn’t be in Ulm.”

I had no idea Ulm was one big marketplace. I only knew the town’s name after hearing it over a hundred times. I was new to all of this. Vibrant cheers from joyful people, the occasional breeze brushing across my shoulder. It’s only been a few months since I’d been granted freedom, but I wouldn’t tell him that.

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“I just happened to pass by,” I said, averting eye contact.

“Hmph? You’re not making a case for yourself. Tell me what: Give me some outis coins so I can purchase another panini for my son, and then we can both be out of each other’s way. Sounds like a deal?”

“I said I don't have any money.”

He gave me a smug look. “Then how are you surviving without anything in your pockets?”

“Father, just drop it. I wanna go see the crystal shops.” His child had a high-pitched voice. He definitely couldn’t be any older than eleven.

"I refuse to drop what’s right. This lunatic knocked food out of your hands, so it’s only right to owe money.”

The three of us were in the middle of the street, causing traffic for the others. We looked foolish.

“For the last time, I don’t have money, so I don’t know what you want me to do."

“If you can’t pay with currency, then hand over something in your possession.”

I shuffled my hands in my pockets. “I don’t have anything.”

The man stuck his hand out, his palm facing the clouds. “If that’s the case, then hand over the jacket.”

He wanted my cardigan? Screw him. That was all I had. I had a bag, but a group jumped me, and I couldn’t defend myself. I did have money in that bag and other random possessions. If I gave up my cardigan, I would have nothing besides a tee shirt and black cargo pants. I wouldn’t have something to conceal myself with.

It’s not like I was wanted or anything. I didn’t like too many people looking at me. Something about having all the attention was just weird.

I gave my flat response, sticking to it no matter the cost. “No.”

He sighed, “Guess I have no other option.” He reached inside his pants, pulling out a concealed dagger. “You understand where this is going.”

Never mind, I wasn’t going to stick with my flat answer. But c’mon now, he pulled out a dagger over food. Over food…

I wanted to bite off my tongue for doing this, but there was no other choice. I slowly took off my cardigan.

His eyes widened, but it wasn’t enough for him to be considered shocked. He still had that stupid, smug look. Goddamn, I wanted to rip it off.

“Here.” I threw my, or should I say, his cardigan.

He caught it with one hand and handed it to his child, then glanced at me.

“Is that why you wore it, the cardigan?”

I assumed he was referring to my arms. I nodded without a word.

“For the future, pay attention to where you're going. Anyways,” he stuck out his hand, “what is your name?”

I ignored his hand and kept my arms to my side. “Jill,” I said.

“Well then, it was a pleasure doing business, Jill.” He retracted his hand and walked past me with his kid, leaving me feeling naked.

I looked down at my arms—the arms of an innocent prisoner. Plagued with scars, it was a reminder of where I came from. Where I was raised. For no real reason, I was treated like a criminal simply because I was born. Well, the reason, I guess, was because my parents were extreme sinners. I didn’t know what, but whatever they did had to be beyond forgiveness. I had to suffer because of them. Apparently, they thought I was going to turn out like my parents, so I was imprisoned until a few months ago.

The outside world isn’t what I expected, Raphtalia.

Enough of sulking around. I couldn’t do this forever. I shook my head, tossing negative thoughts, and slipped through the gaps of people, trying to find a peaceful bench to sit down on.

While continuing my wherever journey, I finally reached a quieter section. Farmland was present through the dim horizon, though I couldn’t tell what was growing. Well, I guess it was safe to say I reached the outskirts of Ulm.

I had a few choices at hand but narrowed it down to two. I could either stay here, doing whatever or hop to another town. If I walked straight, where would I lead myself? I knew nothing about towns and villages, which were safer and denser than others. I knew nothing.

I could test my luck or stay in this dump for a day or two. Well, that’s probably the better option since spending the night under a random tree would be riskier. I overheard from a group of elders that bandits started to put their foot on the map. I thought it was hallucinations or whatnot since I’d never seen one. Yet again, just because I’d never seen one didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

It got me thinking if the group who stole my bag were bandits. I didn't know, nor did I care.

I kicked a pebble on the street while walking to a random alleyway. There was no light—total darkness. It felt like entering the Gates of Hell.

I should spend the night here and maybe steal another cardigan.

With my back against the wall, I plopped to the ground, looking at the empty sky. Not a cloud was visible from this tight angle, exposing a few stars to my sight. My hand reached for the night sky.

"It’s so glowy.”

I lifelessly dropped my hand. I guess I was staying here for the night.