Chapter Two

While walking through the crowded streets of the trade town of Kloven, I feel underneath my armour. Touching my wound I retract my hand, looking at it, a mixture of blood and puss covers my fingers.

I need to find a healer; I might end up with an infection if this goes on any longer.

With heavy steps I make my way towards a sign with a heart inside an open hand. I do not know how to read, but neither do most people, only mages and wealthy individuals can afford such education within the Kingdom. Thus all shops and buildings have a common symbol to represent their use.

Opening the door, a square room, filled with cupboards and display, all filled with magical potions of varying sizes and colours, all too expensive for me to afford. Behind one of the desks was a man in his late 40s. He had a bald head, but with a long unkempt moustache, and a well-built body, only a head smaller than myself. He was looking at me with caution.

“What can I help you with?” asked the man, his voice deep bust rusty.

“…I was wounded during a hunting expedition, the wound reopened recently and I would like to heal it completely.” I lied to the old man.

I hope the price is not too expensive, with 5 silver coins in total, I am nowhere near a gold coin. If the price was too high, I would resort to herbalism. I need to work but that is impossible while my side is bleeding, only problem is that an herbalists medicine would take too long to take effect, so healing was the first option.

“Show me the wound” demanded the old man.

I carefully remove the chest armour, lifting the shirt only ln the side of the wound. If I were to undress myself he might question the multiple scars on my back, not something I want discovered.

While I keep the clothing lifted, the store owner slowly removes the bandage.

“Hmmm… What did you say wounded you again?” asked the old man, the suspicion in his eyes only grew.

“During a hunting expedition a boar charged at my side without me noticing, and ended up stabbing its tusks into my side.” I answered back.

“The wound is too thin to have been a tusk, and your armour is still undamaged, if you plan on lying to me, boy, you better make up a better story.” the man narrowed his eyes, cautiously looking at my face.

He is smart, too smart, in fear I reach for the dagger at my side. The old man notices this and puts his finger inside the wound. I scream from the pain, and drop my hand from the handle, as a sign of surrender. The man sees this and removes his finger from the wound. I fall to the ground while placing my right hand over the wound, trying to stop the bleeding that started again.

“I haven’t been working on this job without catching one or another person lie about the origin of their wounds, but if you threaten me again boy, you will walk out of here with a much deadlier wound” the old man warned me.

“The treatment will cost you 2 silver, but make it 3 for threatening the shop keeper.” he said, walking away.

3 silver?!

I lower my head and beg for forgiveness “Forgive my earlier act good sir, please allow me a fair price.”

He looked back at me and says “You should counsider yourself lucky I don’t report you to the slave hunters.” A smile forming on his lips.

I quickly raise my head and look up at him, my eyes widen at the realisation of what was just said.

How did he find out?

“Good sir, I do not know what you are talking about.” I said in a hurried tone, this just seemed to further extend his devious smile.

“You really think I wouldn’t notice the whip scars on your back? Not only are you a terrible liar, but also a fool.” He looked at me, seemingly baffled at how I thought I deceived him.

I lift myself off the ground, it would be dangerous to remain here any longer. Bleeding from my side while trying to fight an obviously strong opponent would only result in my death. I begin to leave but before I can do anything, he is already in front of me. I reach for the dagger and aim at the man’s chest, hopping to cause a deep enough wound for him to retreat, but not kill.

Before the dagger can even get halfway through the planned trajectory, it is slapped off my hand and thrown to the side. At the same time a punch comes from underneath and hits my stomach. I bend forward from the impact, small droplets of blood rain from my mouth. The brute force from the blow was enough to cause my legs to collapse. Once again I was down on the floor.

So is this how I die? Pitiful.

I close my eyes in expectation of the slow beating that would inevitably ensue a former slave. A dog’s death for a dog’s life. And so I waited, but the blow never came. Weary I opened my eyes and, ever so slowly, looked up.

The man was looking down on me, disappointment visible in his eyes. There was no bloodlust in them, no apathy towards a life less valuable than your own, but disappointment. I stared for a bit longer, and the man just turned away.

“If you are willing to so thoughtlessly discard your life because you have met someone more powerful than you, you will not survive long in the outside, slave.” He said without looking back.

At the same time, he grabbed something from underneath his shirt, a necklace. He quickly untied it and threw it on the floor directly in front of me, never turning around.

“If you want that to change, and want to make that change happen to those in a similar situation to your own, give this pendant to the inn keeper of The Bear Cove in the capital city.”

He went to the back of the desk, going through a door. I waited a minute but he never returned. I look at the necklace right in front of me. It had a simple, oval, silver pedant with no carvings or anything. While getting back on my feet, I picked up the pendant to have a closer look.

What did he mean by that?

Upon closer inspection, the oval pendant was about 1 cm thick, but was not a locket despite. Moving it around my fingers, the surface was perfectly smooth. Having satisfied my curiosity, I tucked the pendant away in one of my belt pockets.

With the other hand I pulled out the health potion and drank a bit of it to close the wound. After the bleeding stopped, I made my way to the back door, almost falling from the pain coming from the wound. I could not let him go out without an explanation.

Putting my hand on the door knob, I stop and look around the shop.

What did I want to do again?

It was an odd feeling, I was about to go through this back door, but why? I still remember the fight with the shopkeeper and the pendant, but not why I wanted to go through the door. This was weird, but I decided to just ignore it. There were other issues that required more immediate attention.

The capital city of the Kingdom was far, almost a month while traveling at a leisurely pace. The pendant would have the lowest priority, I cannot say I am not curious, but I am very suspicious. The man’s eyes were odd, even though he knew of my origin, they were emitting a feeling almost foreign.

Regardless, it would take too long to get to the capital, the only clue of who the man might be. A more pressing issue is the wound, I can barely stand, much less fight.

I must learn…

This fight proved how much I was at the mercy of those stronger than me, if he wanted to the man could easily have killed me.

He was still holding back.

He did not want to injure me, at most he wanted to subjugate me. But why? Any man that was attacked by someone would kill him. Why was I spared? This just goes to show my lack of experience… and the unconventional truth that no one is ever free, not as long as there is someone stronger, or more influential.

Again I was angry, angry at a society that builds upon oppression, angry at the people who do nothing about it, angry at the gods in their high castle for doing nothing, but mostly I was angry at myself. I did not have the power to protect myself, so how could I do anything about this world?

The answer was simple, I become stronger, both mentally and physically. It is time this useless former slave become something greater. With the idea in mind, I take a large and confident step forward, in honour of my goals.

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

When my foot lands, the vibration causes some pain from the wound, and I end up tripping, putting one knee on the ground to avoid falling completely.

“Hahahaha!” I laugh in between ragged breaths.

The glorious me can barely walk!

Lifting myself up for the fourth time today, I finally head towards the exit of the shop. Upon leaving, I notice the sun has begun to go down, the streets have gotten less crowded. Holding the wound in hopes this will alleviate the pain, I jog along the street, a smile upon my face.

I finally reach herbalist shop, the icon of a plant shown above it, and loudly swing open the door, scaring the old lady behind the counter, who stares at me in surprise. It takes a while for the woman to respond.

“Wh- what can I do for you, young man?” the woman stutters at the beginning, still shocked about my entry.

“Hahaha do not look so surprised madam!” I say in an unusually loud voice.

The woman looks with a brow raised “What do I owe the pleasure of such a happy man?” she asked.

“Well madam, would you mind taking care of this wound here?” I lift up the armour and shirt, again only revealing the stab wound in hopes she is not as perceptive as the old man.

“Oh my! What happened to you?” she looked at me with worry.

“… I was stabbed by a mugger a while ago, luckily I have a potion that managed to heal the wound before it bled too much.” My previous encounter taught me not to lie to those healing you… well, at least not about the wound itself.

Her face turned from one of surprise, into that of disgust “And you are happy with this?”

Laughing off the ludicrous assumption by the shopkeeper, I respond “Well, not about the wound itself, but what it has led me to do…” I say while looking at it.

That is right, if it was not for the wound, I would not have gone to a healer. I would not have met the old man, and I would have not been utterly defeated by him. But I would also not have realised the ugly truth, my own futility, the fact that my new gained freedom was only superficial. Thus I would not have come to a conclusion, a new resolve, the wish for a new beginning not only for myself but for the world.

However, I look solemnly at wound, because I knew what I did to deserve this injury. The man’s appearance after I smashed his face with the rock. The light in the others face fade away, as the blood from his neck crawled through the ground. A sight I would remember for the rest of my life. The day I destroyed the life of another.

“Well young man, for 20 copper I can offer you some salve which can treat the wound, but you must let it heal by itself. I recommend that for the next day or two you do not do much work”

The woman’s words brought me back to reality, there was nothing I could do now. What has happened cannot be changed, and it is my duty as the survivor to carry the memories of those that have fallen… even if by my own hands.

“Thank you very much.” I respond with a weak smile.

I quickly ask “If possible, could I also buy some medicine for serious burns?”

“Why do you want that?” requested the woman.

Smiling I assure her “My wife has recently burned her hand while cooking, this would help speed up the recovery.”

She hesitated for a while but then concedes “That will cost you 15 extra copper”

After giving her the money and getting ready to head out, the woman draws my attention as she is about to speak.

“Take care young man, and I am sorry for what you must have gone through.”

My eyes widened at what she said, did she know about my past? As I was about to reach for the dagger, I remember what I had told her, and lowered my hand.

She is probably talking about the mugging.

“Thank you for your concern, madam, but please do not worry.” I say, waving her good bye.

Closing the door behind me, it was time to begin the first change. I must grow in strength, that is an undeniable fact. I will not live should my strength only amount to this, thus I had to find a way to grow, a method for me to become stronger.

I look at the money I have left, 4 silver 65 copper, not much. With this I can rent a room in the inn for the week, this would allow me to heal the wound. This was the current priority and thus I chose to begin with this before the next step.

I make my way towards an inn, identifiable by a symbol of a mug, inside I am greeted by a young man, about 2 heads shorter than myself, he had short brown hair and brown eyes, he is wearing a bartender’s suit.

“Welcome dear guest, what can I help you with?”

“Hello, I am looking for the innkeeper, is he in?”

“He is currently busy, but I can attend you while he is unavailable.”

With a raised eyebrow I give the “innkeeper” 2 silver for two days in the inn, a meal and bath included. Being done with the pay, I am shown to a room with a single bed, a desk and a chair. After removing the armor, I head downstairs.

Kloven, as a trade town in the edges of the Kingdom, was very safe so as to ensure the arrival of important delivery and personnel from the various city-states and nations as well as protect the citizens and the Kingdom in the event of an invasion. This could be easily seen by how peaceful the inn was.

There was, of course, the merrier bunch, drinking and laughing or singing. There were the calmer, secluded ones, talking to colleagues and friend about the day’s intrigue. Hunters showing off about their biggest catch. The heartbroken men and women who caught their partner cheating, or drinking away the sorrow of losing a family member. A lively and, to the miserable me, a wondrous sight, it glows in a beautiful hue of amber in eyes, and before I noticed it, tears were forming in my eyes.

The young innkeeper approaches my table, some broth on his hands. He looks at me questionably, wondering if something happened. I look at him, and a thin smile appear across my face.

“Haha, do not worry” I say while wiping away the tears.

He places the broth in front of me. With an understanding look, he speaks to me.

“It’s alright to cry, you aren’t the only one here with a tragic story.” He says while scanning the inn.

“I won’t pry as it is none of my business, but know that holding it in is the most painful.” he says to me while looking down, his face shows a deep sadness.

Turning around he left, only for me to stare at his back. His back seemed bigger somehow. For a child to present such words of counselling, many things must have happened, he is far more of an adult than most people in this room. I do not look at him with eyes of pity, for he granted me the same dignity, but with curiosity. And taking the broth in my hands, I heed his advice and head to my room.

Sitting on the floor with my back against the bed, I eat the broth. It is warm and savoury. I eat faster and faster, barely chewing before I swallow. Without noticing I begin to cry.

The is so good…

I think of what could have been. The innocent childhood, where I could play with friends, fight them over a game, and cry when they got mad at me. The teen years where I would meet my first love, with friends making joke about us, to then have your heart broken for being rejected, only to meet another and have the cycle repeat. Get a job and work hard to sustain myself and maybe even one or more people. Argue with my lover over petty things, and beg for forgiveness afterwards. Grow old and tired with that person, watching as your own children got old.

I look down at the tipped over bowl of broth, and simply hug my legs.

The food was really good…

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Authors note:

Sorry about the delay, I was coming back from a trip and only arrived at midnight, but I managed to post the story today!

So this marks a turning point in our protagonist, a demand for a change. Thus it is time to name our protagonist! If you have any suggestions, post them as a reply, if a lot of people want that name, I don't mind using it, just don't ask for anything stupid please!

From the next chapter onward a story arc will be implemented, and I can guarantee it will keep you guys on edge.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, if you spot any errors, feel free to point them out.