Four years passed since Soral left Griff. He had learned many things since then. First of all, the money from Griff was useless in the outside world. Rather than the pressed gold and silver he was accustomed to, they used a currency made of magically condensed gemstones called Juwelen. These coins were more beautiful than most jewelry Soral had seen.

Second, magic was an important part of the lives of people here. The speed and agility that had allowed him to escape Griff was also a form of magic. So was the natural poison detoxification he had experienced in the forest. He still had the habit of eating the odd mushroom now and then.

Third, it was near impossible for a child to survive on their own in the outside world as well. If he let an adult take him in he probably could have led an easy life, but every time he considered it, fear consumed him. Instead, Soral went back to living how he lived best and became a nomadic bandit. He stayed where he wanted, took what he wanted, and went where he wanted.

It didn’t take long for him to become notorious, especially with his odd habits. Soral never bothered to steal money. The more he found out about it, the more useless it seemed. It was subjective and had little value outside of cities. As long as he kept his appearance decent, he could go where he wished without any money at all.

Soral was blending in at a tavern, as he would usually do when he first heard about her.

“Have you heard about her? The one they call the lady of justice?”

“What justice. Isn’t she some entitled noble lady trying to gain attention using her father’s fame?”

“It’s a shame. I had high hopes since she was the daughter of the Weaponsmaster.”

“That’s not it,” the first who spoke pressed, “I hear she has been bandit hunting.”

Soral hadn’t been paying much attention until he heard that. Bandit hunting? He had recently joined a gang of bandits out of boredom. They weren’t very good but they treated him well. He might need to protect them from this noble lady.

“I heard she denounced her own mother,” someone else said, “Was she a bandit too?”

“No. From what I heard she accused her mother of murdering her father but nothing came of it.”

“So she is trying to catch bandits to raise her reputation,” another guessed.

Reputation, huh? Soral respected her plans for revenge, so long as she left his group out of it. He was about to leave when he heard it.

“I heard her next target is going to be Wild. You know that weird wandering thief that doesn’t steal money.”

“Yeah right! No one can catch him. We don’t know his name or even what he looks like. The only witness of his crimes said he looked like any ordinary person.”

Soral tried to make his pause seem natural as he left the tavern. It was a good thing he decided to go information gathering today. It looked like it was time to leave this place as well. He knew it would happen sooner or later. He sent a message to the base with magic, warning them about this noble lady so they would at least know she was coming.

After that he headed straight for the gates leading out of the city. He really disliked city walls. Unfortunately most cities had them and villages… Soral didn’t like stealing from villages. They reminded him of the family who had taken him in when he first left Griff.

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Luckily he had no issues leaving the city, but he met the bandit group along the road. “What are you doing here? Are you also leaving?” Soral asked.

“So you were trying to abandon us,” the leader growled. He was a large man with a permanent scowl and the first there to figure out Soral’s identity as Wild.

“Shouldn’t you leave as well?” Soral asked. He didn’t understand why the man looked so angry.

“I won’t be chased out by some brat,” he scoffed, “I can’t believe you are letting something like this scare you. Wild is famous for being an untouchable master thief.”

Soral shrugged. “It’s just a good opportunity to move on. The reason no one knows anything about me is because I never stay in one place long.”

“You expect me to just let you leave after protecting you for this long?” the leader demanded, “You have yet to pay for your place among us.”

“I’ve given you plenty of things,” Soral told him, “Most of the furnishings and food we have eaten I stole.”

“Those are just basic survival things,” the leader dismissed, “If you want to leave, you have to make a big score for us.”

This again, huh? This was always the problem with joining bandit groups. They always expected him to do more based on his reputation. Normal people didn’t approve of his free roaming nature.

“You knew my values from the beginning,” Soral replied, “I know you want money or jewelry, but I don’t steal such unnecessary things.”

As they spoke the rest of the group started to surround them. For the first time in a while Soral wished he could just leave all this behind.

“Why waste your talents?” the leader asked, “If you joined us in earnest we could live in luxury. We could have whatever we want. If you don’t we may just have to hand you over to that noble brat. Then you will be nothing but a badge of reputation.”

Betrayed again, huh? Well, thieves and bandits weren’t known for their loyalty. He could outrun them without any problems, but it was likely they would cause problems for him later. The magic he had been able to pick up was fairly limited and mostly useful in stealing and sneaking.

If he gave in now and stole what they wanted, the dynamic would change and he would be treated as their servant forever. That wasn’t an option.

“Hand me over, then,” Soral told them.

“So you’ve chosen the hard way,” the leader scorned and made a motion for the rest to attack, “It was a shame. I actually kind of liked you, but as bandits we can’t let a prize like you get away in one piece.”

The bandits who had treated him as a friend just earlier that day attacked him. He was able to dodge the first couple of attacks, but there were too many of them. Right when they almost had him cornered, the leader was knocked down by a lady wielding a quarterstaff.

The lady had a striking appearance. She was not wearing a dress but black pants and a red coat with gold designs that seemed as though it was an old knight’s uniform. Her long black hair was loosely tied back and her shining golden eyes pierced through the bandits like a panther hunting prey.

“To think the infamous Wild could be threatened by this kind of rabble,” she commented. Her tone was filled with all the haughty confidence one would expect from a noble.

“Rabble?!” The bandits quickly turned on her. One of them tried to rescue the leader while she was busy fighting the others.

Soral watched in amazement as she skillfully defeated all of them without a single casualty. Was this the lady of justice he had heard rumors of? She was different from what he had expected.

The lady then turned to face him. “You are Wild, right?’ she asked, “I am here to recruit you.”

“Recruit me?” Soral asked.

“That’s right. I am Ruena Alodan. I need your help to revive the Alodan Warriors, the most skilled mercenaries in Althaedor,” she told him, “I can handle weapons and fighting, but you have the subtlety needed for scouting. I need you to help me form the part of the Warriors that works in the shadows as my partner.”

“What do you plan to do once this army is rebuilt?” Soral asked.

“I will fight on the side of justice and help all those suffering like myself whose voices won’t reach the law of the land,” Ruena explained, “I have followed your story and I am confident that you and I share a similar dream.”

“Similar,” Soral agreed, “but my vision involves a little less justice. Justice is cold and heartless. I like mercy better.”

Ruena paused to think about it, then smiled. “I guess you are right. Mercy for others like us, and justice for those who harm us. How about it? Will you join me, Wild?”

Soral took the hand she outstretched. He wasn’t sure quite why. Maybe he just thought she was cool. Maybe he wanted a haven instead of constantly living life on the edge. Either way, he wanted to give this a chance, so he took a chance.

“I’ll help you, but my name isn’t Wild,” he told her, “I am Soral Voila.”

“Nice to meet you Soral,” she said, “First things first, shall I show you my home base? Then we can go over the plan. I’ll even show you the prophecy I found.”

“Prophecy?” Soral asked.

Ruena pulled him forwards on the road, towards a rather odd looking carriage. “That’s right. It is about the Weaponsmaster and the Wild One. They are destined partners, heroes, inventors, and most importantly, they are strong,” she told him, “We will make this prophecy come true.”

Her confidence was infectious, and her dream was something Soral finally felt was worth living for.

And so, two youths started on a path towards destiny.