“So what’ll you give me for these?” Rhun asks in his typical lisped tone as another bloody finger is tossed into the bag. “You were offering trades to those guys, right?”

So he was spying on them? So, I was the reason for all this?

“Ya’know on second thought,” Rhun adds knowing full well I wouldn’t respond. “Those ones are free of charge. No need for anything in return. Consider them gifts.”

What happened to him? How did he become this?

Or, had he always been this?

“Boss,” one of Rhun’s partners asks with a quick glance at the bag he clutched tightly. “Are we going to stay here, or…”

“We’re leaving.” Rhun spits in response, sitting up from the earthen bench the deceased mages made hours earlier to treat him.

They didn’t even bother to bury the bodies.

But should I have expected them to? That may have been even more insulting now that I think about it. If you are going to ruthlessly murder someone, don’t turn around and stand on ceremony for them moments later I suppose.

I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think about their violated decomposing bodies becoming the fodder of animals, but if I let my mind wander it drifts to other painful thoughts.

That trip to the forest with Noel, when he disappeared…

Did he know what was going to happen?

Did he set her up?

No, he was a child I can’t accept that to be the case.

My assumption was always that he was grabbed before they went after Noel. Maybe he was turned into this after being tortured by the kidnappers?

Or am I completely mistaken? Maybe all my worries are erroneous and they both met up back in town with no problems.

If that’s the case does he know what happened afterwards? How long has it even been? He’s clearly aged a lot.

I want to ask him all those questions, but I am just too furious to speak straight.

Why did he have to kill them? Cara and her friends, what did they do to deserve that?

When I asked him those questions, I honestly think he thought I was joking. As if questioning why to kill someone is as crazy as banging your head against a wall. In the end I never even got an answer from him.

If I sat him down and really worked the answer out, I’m not sure I’d even feel any better. He could honestly be evil simply for the sake of it, I suppose if we did come from demons who’s to say we couldn’t revert back. Perhaps he’s even worse than the group who carried me to the ruins. But if that’s the case, why am I so hesitant to do to him what I did to them?

Stolen story; please report.

There are countless, potential, ticking timebombs in here, but I’m not reaching for any of them. I’m not fishing any gems from amulets, or concocting any plans with potions.

Why not?

Why?

What will I get from it? Some momentary satisfaction that will leave me lost further in time. And without any answers.

Perhaps I dread the answers even more than being lost again.

I’m going to act as I intended with the previous bandits.

Silence, and no mercy if encroached upon. Even if I am left wondering, I will stay silent.

I have a sword prepared, and no matter what I see or hear, I won’t try to fix these broken people. I will only step in to further break them if the need ever arises.

And I don’t want it to arise. Because I really can’t see him as anything but Noel’s friend even now. Even after seeing what I saw, I still see him in my mind as nothing but a precocious child who was acting out because he was uncomfortable in an unfamiliar environment.

Maybe it’s because I hadn’t expected to see him ever again. The people I meet always become nothing but snapshots to me. Their lives boiled down to the moments I interact with them, It’s wrong but it’s fundamentally how I operate.

The snapshot I have of Rhun, is a kid bullying those around him in an orphanage he was unaccustomed to, the boiled down life is one of difficulty. In my mind I pity him, but in person, now, I want to hate him as much as possible.

He seems to even treat those around him horribly. In the few moments I’ve spent glancing outside with a person-based projection he’s either been ridiculing his ‘friends’ or tormenting whatever he sees.

He’s already killed one of these so called ‘friends’, I can’t even imagine why the others stay.

Ah, right.

It seems I’ve perfected person-based projection by the way.

I suppose I am not celebrating because of what strong visual memory I used as catalyst for the first attempt at it.

How dare he make me remember it.

I don’t care if I’m being petty. He earned at least that much.

▐◊▌▐◊▌

That night, after his partners went to sleep Rhun sat up and stared deep into the flames with me still linked tightly to his belt.

Barely audible over the sound of crackling wood and the stream babbling in the background, Rhun spoke words. “You really brought back memories. I know I’m not supposed to get attached but, do you know what ever happened to her? I guess it was because it was my first job, and I was so enamored with you but I was always real curious. I even thought about stealing you back from Gubg. Seeing as how you clammed up when you realized it was me, you must have heard something from him at some point when you were in his hoard, right?”

Gubg? Is that the man… the head, that I once held on to? The owner I never met who found me after Noel’s escape?

“I wonder just what kind of horrible things he made her endure? I suppose it would be a blessing if he kept her though. As bad as he may be, it’s a better life than serving as some backwoods army’s tool cleaner.” Rhun continues with a curious expression passing his face for a moment. “So, what have you heard? Did he end up selling her to someone? Or was it…”

Placing a finger to his throat and comically plucking it across with a chuckle, Rhun breathes a hearty sigh.

Eventually a different face appears over his content expression. “Or had you not known?”

Again I didn’t respond. Why would I respond to his baseless taunts?

“Maybe you thought she made it home? What, had you two made some daring escape plan before parting with her? I bet it was real tearful too!” Rhun bellows with a fit a laughter easily loud enough to wake those around him. “Oh, please tell me that’s true! Please tell me you thought she made it back to the village! Oh if only…”

“To be so…”

“Niave.”

Punctuating the thoughts with flurries of odd laughter and panting Rhun at this point was clearly on the brink of madness.

“Let me tell you something ‘Bag’, that girl nowadays is probably good for one of two things; Fertilizing the grass around a shallow grave somewhere, or oinking like a sow under a peasant militiaman.”

On second thought I can probably kill him without it messing with my conscience.

But I should make sure it’s at least half as painful as Cara’s death.