My body jolts slightly as the wagon moves forward along the rough and uneven road. Glancing around, I take in the sight of my ten fellow convicts, all of us cramped together in this suffocating, wretched box they call a wagon. My gaze shifts to the two guards from the garrison at the rear, clad in leather armor and armed with swords. The air inside carries an unbearable mix of sweat and foul breath, the constant creaking of the wagon and the murmurs of others around me creates a disconcerting symphony, adding to the tension in the confined space.
It has been an hour since we left the dungeons of the Runderdale barracks. My butt is now sore from the rough and hard wood I'm sitting on, and I have to constantly adjust my sitting position despite the cramped space around me. I've already earned a few glares from the others because of this.
And speaking of Runderdale barracks, it's located inside the town of Runderdale, the first town I saw after I emerged from that forest.
I could still picture out the houses and shops as we passed by them, not to mention the small mansion that stood at the very center of the town.
The town bore a striking resemblance towards the ones from the middle ages, most of them are built out of wood and stone, their roofs made out of thatch and tiles, while the road is filled with cobblestones.
Not to mention the townsfolk, most appeared to be wearing tunics and kirtles, the ones people used to wear back at the middle ages.
All of this, further substantiating the conclusion a part of me drew on that fateful day, though another small part starts to gradually accept that this is now my new reality, the faster I moved on, the more better.
But I still insistently refused to accept such fate, I just couldn't give up like that, mother could still be waiting for me, just the memory of her smiling face could put me on the verge of tears.
However my current situation right now seems to sap away any hope I tried to reignite within me, if I couldn't escape these people, the prospect of escaping this land becomes even more daunting, my journey in the forest had already proved much too arduous and challenging to me.
One such moment, I considered killing myself... yet I'm too much of a coward to even pull it off.
My eyes then wandered towards the young boy sitting at the very corner of the wagon, he seems to notice my gaze as he stared back at me before smiling towards me.
How can you manage to smile despite everything that had happened? nevertheless, I responded with a forced one.
'Fish' I remembered as the word left his mouth, his finger pointed at his chest, It didn't take me too long to realize that he's trying to introduce himself, despite the language barrier.
Apparently, I spent four more days back at the dungeon before that fucking commander eventually deemed me sufficiently recovered to be sent to the quarry.
I spent the first night in my cell weeping, surrounded by dozens of strangers that shared my same fate, probably due to my otherworldly attire and my unmistakably odor that reeks of piss, not a single one of them dared to speak to me, though I could feel the glares of annoyances directed at me during that time.
My inability to communicate with people who speak the local tongue also didn't help.
Then the second day came, driven by my bitter feelings towards my captors, I threw my breakfast at them which earned me another's minute worth of beating. And as I laid sprawled on the cell's floor, I spent the entire day weeping again, it was at this point that one of my cellmates couldn't stand my weeping anymore and tried scolding me, but since I couldn't understand him, his words are only met by silence.
By this time, already everyone in the cell is referring to me as 'the Saragonian', not including the handful from the other cells, although I thought it had something to do with my familiarity with my only language I grew up with, which is English, and 'Saragonian' in the ears of these people.
And just like that, the confrontation was over before it could escalate any further.
It was during at my third day when I finally met little Fish. Just like me, he was brought in beaten and bruised, they didn't question him like they did to me, instead they directly threw him in a cell, our cell specifically. And as for why I added 'little' before his name, it's because of his tiny and short stature, I stood at least one foot above him.
Despite his height, he's pretty muscular, as if he's been training his entire life. He has short brown hair, close set eyes, and a surprisingly very turned up nose. Though I sometimes wondered if his strange name has some kind of connection to it.
Not to mention we might be of the same age due to his youthful features, just the sight of a fellow teenager brought a bit of familiarity and relief within me.
We didn't spoke at first, I just watched quietly from the corner as he got along with my other cellmates.
At that time, I felt a twinge of jealousy for their ability to speak the local tongue... 'Artanian' as I recall the commander refer to it, and it was at that point that I felt a sense of purpose.
A goal..
A goal to learn the Artanian langauge.
But something unexpected happened a few hours later, I was taking a nap when a commotion inside the cell woke me up.
I don't know what caused it, but it seems Little Fish had done something that offended two of my cellmates, I watched as one of them held his arms while the other choked him, two hands squeezing his throat tightly.
I frantically looked around, waiting for a single soul to step in and break the fight. But there were none, the rest simply watched with amused expressions on their faces, some of them were even cheering.
I don't know what caused me to play hero at that time, I got no experience in fighting, if I even considered my beatings as an 'experience', I knew I got no chance against two grown ups.
But they're too preoccupied at Little Fish, their backs facing towards me.
Despite my instincts screaming at me to just stay put and watch.. I have to do something, watching a person get killed in front of me while I did nothing seems.. utterly wrong.
In an instant, I was already at my feet and charging towards the nearest one while screaming like a madman, my mind blank during that time.
It was the one who was choking Little Fish who I aggressively tackled on the ground. First, I felt great pain on my broken arm as it collided with the shocked man in front of me, but it seems I was too high on adrenaline or too focused assaulting the guy before me to process the pain, not only that, my ability to think at that time had vanished, replaced by unreasonable bloodlust, I was like a loosed hound, landing blows after blows on him with my free right hand, though I lacked any skills or experience to throw a proper punch, it was already enough to keep him pinned down.
And enough chance for Little Fish to attack the other assailant.
Being fully occupied with clumsily attacking the man beneath me, I only heard a few muffled thuds and a cry of pain, followed by the obvious heavy thud of a body dropping on the ground, before Little Fish finally appeared besides me.
He gave a small nod of gratitude, slightly pushed me aside, before knocking out the man under me with a blow in the head. When the guards came, they only saw prisoners minding about their own business.. and two bloodied unconscious men sprawled out on the floor.
I was surprised when they didn't even tried asking my other cellmates about what happened to the two guys... it seems they sortied it out as a fight between two prisoners, too irrelevant to spare the slightest effort of delving in deeper as to what actually occurred.
When the adrenaline wore down, the pain around my entire body began to settle in, especially my broken left arm, I was in much more agony compared to before, so great the pain that I spent the rest of the day huddling in the corner and quietly sobbing.
A few of my fellow cellmates, including Little Fish, tried in vain to comfort me in their Artanian language, their voices a mess of gentle gibberish. Though I couldn't understand a single damn word, I knew what they were trying to do and I couldn't help but be touched and thankful at these simple actions.
I really want to vent at them, to finally let all these building emotions and feelings within me out, and to cry in their arms and in their embrace... They were actually the first people to show me such kindness since I arrived in this land.
But I held it in, I know it's still not the right time to do it, nor at the right people.
As far as I know, they could just be half-heartedly comforting me at that time to make up for their guilt of not doing anything when I was beaten up by the guards the other day.
Nevertheless, I liked the feeling and I appreciated their gesture.
When my fourth day came, I woke up with aches all over my body, though I could still feel great pain in my left arm, I was not in so much agony compared to the day before.
Just like the other days, I sat alone while lost in my thoughts, my mind at that time mostly revolved at my actions during the fight, not only that, my chest is swirling with different kinds of emotions. A part of me was proud at myself, proud that my actions helped save someone's life, while the other part was feeling regret, regret that my actions had inflicted myself such agony and intense pain.
Nonetheless, I mentally scolded myself for being too reckless and noted to be more careful next time, the prospect of breaking the splint that was wrapped in my broken arm is too daunting
That was until Little Fish suddenly decided to sit besides me, I was too curious of his intentions that I waited for him to speak first.
That he did after a few seconds of awkward silence, he began rambling in that Artanian tongue of theirs. I was wondering at first if he's even aware that I couldn't understand their language, but that's when I realized that he's trying to teach me their language!
I was so happy at that time that tears were forming on my eyes.
It began with a simple introduction, he pointed at himself before saying "Fish", I was taken aback initially upon hearing a name that was derived from an animal, however I also wondered whether such a word held a different meaning for them in here.
Little Fish had saw the look on my face and chuckled, it seems he was used to such reactions whenever he introduces himself... just like me.
I also followed suit and introduced myself, though he mispronounced my name a few times, he eventually mastered the pronunciation correctly. And just like that, we spent the rest of the day learning Artanian, He would gesture towards various objects both inside and outside the cell, teaching me their names in their language.
Though I struggled and quickly realized that it would be a very long time before I master their language.. it's still a start.
Also, the two guys that we beat up the day before have not bothered us anymore, I could remember the fear in their faces whenever Little Fish decided to fix his gaze towards them.
When my fifth day came, I suddenly got called towards the commander's study. There, he explained that me alongside ten prisoners would finally be sent on our way to the quarry, Little Fish included.
Hearing this, I felt a sense of despair and fear within me, though the idea of doing it alongside my new friend gave me a tiny spark of relief.
As I finished recalling my days back at the dungeon, I turned my sights towards the town in the distance, getting smaller and smaller the farther the wagon rode away.
A part of me screamed defiance at the town and it's inhabitants, especially at a certain commander who tried to take away my freedom from me, my pendant... and my future.
Surely, there must be a way out of this.
And just like that, I felt a small fire reignite within me.
.
.
.
.
.
CHAPTER DONE!!
The rest of the ride was uneventful aside from the occasional chatter among the prisoners, for the next three hours, I endured the steadily increasing discomfort in my rear end caused by this wretched seat.But I made no complaints.. who am I to complain against two armed guards, not to mention that I don't speak their language.The once visible town was already gone, now replaced by seemingly endless rolling hills and a dirt road that seems to stretch as far as my eye could see. So far, we hadn't passed through any major settlements aside from a few hamlets.Interactions between me and Little Fish only limits to gestures and hand signs, though I occasionally find myself unintentionally slipping English words during my 'conversations' with him. Muscle jaw memories, I guess?When the wagon finally lurched to stop, the constant shaking and creaking of the wagon had finally ceased, replaced by a moment of peace and silence which offered small relief to the rest of us.By this point, all
As the guards ushered us toward the imposing gate, the relentless onslaught of the sun's rays bore down upon me, its searing touch unbearable. With each step, the weight of my body seemed to intensify, the air grew thick and stifling, making each breath a struggle, my throat felt parched, a dryness that consumed my senses and left me longing for even a drop of water to quench my thirst."Water, please..." The words left my lips in a hushed whisper.I could only hope they would offer us food and water before they send us to work.As we approach, the wooden palisade began to extend, its sturdy structure growing larger with each step, casting shadows over the ground. Atop the walls, sentries stood vigil, clad in suits of mail and gambesons, crossbows resting on their backs while gripping spears firmly in their hands, and furthermore, only half of the watchtowers were manned with the same guards, though I could see a few of them held bows.A sense of vulnerability washed over me, a realiz
The fuck is this?My eyes blink rapidly as I blankly stared at the parchment sitting atop the table in front of me, my shaking hand tightly gripping the quill given to me.There's a list of what seemed like signatures written in the parchment, a collection of markings resembling signatures yet devoid of any semblance to names, like a scribble that appeared as if a two-years old child had written it.Signatures only?... No names? do they find it acceptable to merely rely on our signatures as a means to document our identities and maintain a record of our existence?I look up and stare at the two men behind the table, patiently waiting for me to write my signature, though I could still find them occasionally stealing a few glances at the outfit and sling I'm wearing.I'm sticking out like a sore thumb, I better get myself a new set of clothes... I'm not comfortable with this attention I'm receiving right now.I could still remember the astonished looks of my fellow inmates, including Li
A man pushing a cart suddenly emerge behind a small building, heading straight towards us.Huh?And in that moment, a scent began to waft toward me, growing more potent with every passing second as the cart drew closer to our position.I glanced at Little Fish beside me, and from the expression on his face, it was evident that he'd felt it too. Our eyes met and I could see the growing grin on his face, he muttered something under his breath before licking his lips.Murmurs grew around me, it seems the entire group had already noticed it by the looks of excitement and relief in their faces.There's no mistaking it... that cart, it contains food.A growing sensation of moisture filled my mouth, accompanied by the rumbling of my stomach as the creaking of the approaching cart filled my ears. I could barely keep myself from launching towards the incoming cart.Each seconds seems like an hour as we impatiently waited for the arrival of the cart, if it weren't for the guards surrounding our
As we continued to pour inside the gate, I can't help but shrink before the presence of these hardened men, to them, I'm probably just a burden.The miners parted with a gradual shuffle, creating a path for us. Amidst the shifting figures, an elderly miner emerged, positioned beside a rack laden with pickaxes that rested upon a waiting cart.He appeared to be in his sixties or seventies, his weathered visage bore witness to his years in this quarry, yet amid the wrinkles, his thick mane of graying hair cascaded untamed, a testament to untamed vitality, he also has a full beard. Draped in rags that mirrored the attire of his comrades, he stood barefoot. In stature, he measured shorter than I, a mere inch or so.A few guards that were leading us approached the old miner and began talking to me, one of them pointed a finger at us a few times amidst their conversation.When they're done, all of the guards that were accompanying us at this point finally withdrew back towards the gate. A fa
Well.. the mining area is more complex than I had initially thought.These men had seemingly crafted an entire town out from scratch! My gaze swept over the makeshift structures that seemed to stake claim to every available patch of ground as we navigated through them. Some of these structures reached high, boasting three stories despite their rough beginnings. Mere sticks and discarded planks had been ingeniously assembled to form the foundations of these crudely built buildings, not to mention the clotheslines strung everywhere, their lines extending in every direction we moved. This web of drying garments wove together the buildings, linking one to the next, and creating a network that enveloped the entire expanse in a pattern reminiscent of a spider web.However, it wasn't just wooden structures that existed in these 'town', for every wooden buildings that stood, there were also two or three tents interspersed among them, some even a mix of both, as if the town itself couldn't dec
Passing what appeared to be another group of armed miners, me and the old miner continued on our way, not even bothering to risk an eye contact.When they were finally far enough, the old miner suddenly spins and spat on the ground below, halting me on my tracks.I stared at him, a scowl plastered on his face."Cloaks" He suddenly said.What?Cloaks?... what the hell is that?I rose my brows in confusion, hoping he'll understand my message.As if in direct response to the questions swirling in my mind, he pointed his finger towards my back. Curious, I shifted my gaze and fixed my eyes on the diminishing silhouettes of the unarmed miners, their figures receding as they moved in a direction opposite from our own.Is that what they're called? this brutal group of armed miners who thinks they're the guardians and restorer of order in this place?"Cloaks.. is that what they're called?" I asked him."Yes, Cloaks" he pause before pursing his lips, seemingly in deep thoughts, "dogs" He added
Clutching my new pickaxe tightly with my only available hand, I endeavored to steady my panting breath, while exhaustion slowly crept over me. The reverberating symphony of Artanian chatter and the ceaseless percussion of metal meeting stone enveloped me from all sides.It's barely even a minute after Gulfram led me here to finally start my job mining and now I can barely keep myself from collapsing.Admiring the small cracks I inflicted on the massive boulder in front of me, I rested my tool on the boulder before wiping the sweat from my forehead. Curious, I turn my head to my right.As I gazed ahead, the scene of Little Fish and a procession of miners diligently extracting a portion from the stretching cliff-wall promptly captured my attention.Merely a few meters from where I stood, Little Fish ceased his mining activity and briefly pivoted in my direction, as though attuned to my scrutiny. Despite the dirt smudging his body, his appearance seemed surprisingly vibrant. Were it not