4 Chapter 3.2: Sparks 2

I was once the chief in a town named Bezeric. It sat beside a river, and the smell of morning tulips would fill our windows. There was nothing distinctive with our town, it hunted animals and made a living off of it like the neighboring towns, but we were proud of it.

When it was destroyed by that mysterious orb of explosion, a small group of survivors remained. I was one of them, and it was my duty as chief to lead them.

Desperate, we left our hometown to seek help from other towns. However, the only thing we saw was more destruction. We went to the next, and the next, and the next, until we eventually got tired. Arguments sparked and our group was halved in numbers overnight.

Finally, with only the faintest of hope in hand, we set out to another village. To our joy, we saw distant figures of armored people. We were filled with hope, for at last help is at reach. We were wrong.

They took the women, even the young ones, and placed them on a caged caravan. I still remember the crying faces of my wife and children as they were reachig for me. Then, they murdered all the men. Including the little ones. We weren't able to grab my boy, but the four of us managed to escape them somehow in the middle of the night.

Wounded and famished, we embraced each other to share our warmth. We still haven't lost faith.

"It will come. Hope that is." Paul said out of the blue.

He's a teacher with a platonic affection for children. The man's always taught them to pursue their dreams with great perseverance. "Giving up" was never in one of his teachings.

Once, my son was left alone in the house during his birthday because of urgent matters. When I came home, it was to my surprise to see that my son was laughing happily with his classmates, playing games that their teacher invented for them.

"Oh yes, definitely. We've lived good lives haven't we?" Markus assured all of us.

He's the village baker, and everybody's wingman. Every new year he would hand out honey to adolescent boys so they can give it to their loves. He said:

"Giving honey is akin to giving love, for the process of acquiring them are the same. You travel in a vast forest to find a tree with a hive. But even if you find one, you need to endure the stings first before you get to taste the sweet-sweet drops."

He was right.

"Yes. Indeed we did." Barron smiled.

This old man is the village carpenter. Ever since his children died, he became the type of person that never smiles, and children grew afraid of him. However, one of the children saw him dressing up in red and white garments during the eve of New Year. He never ran out of children on his lap ever since.

Together, we stayed that way until dawn. We have nothing, not even an inkling as to what happened in the morning. Perhaps something possessed us, because at our feet were 5 corpses who donned hoods and beside them were big baskets brimming with goods. We were famished for so long, yet we weren't sure of what to feel.

However, even those goods didn't last very long, so we took 'drastic measures' and made use of the bod-... Then, we were on our way of Gaunts-

"Why?" Adam leans forward.

"Because of guilt."

"Guilt?"

"Yes. When you get shrouded with guilt, it is sometimes worse than death. You just find yourself restlessly wandering around, lost in thought. Lost in purpose. Lost in meaning. Never have I imagined that the greatest form of suffering I would receive is from myself!"

Adam spoke nothing but stared into the moon.

He knew of the man's guilt. He knows that he too, is itchy from a detestable irritation called guilt.

"... The armored knights are most likely the King's men. They were constantly talking about 'Pestilence Cleansing'. When his wife died, maybe the bastard's sex drive went nuts and started gathering concubines-"

At the word of this, Adam's face turned into that of a daemon's. After punching a random tree, he calms himself down.

"I would ask you to give up but I guess you won't. Can you tell me what you're gonna do next?"

"I'll be going to the Great City of Fray. Maybe someone there can help." Adam touches his pendant.

"That's... quite the long journey. It would usually take a decade from here on foot but {chuckles} then again, you're not your everyday brat-"

"I have an oder sister named Bela-" Adam spoke without a warning, but Venetive was enticed to listen.

"She once adopted a stray tiger cub. She loved it, and it grew into a big tiger. Even though a neighbor would pick on us for it, it would guard our flower garden for us with enthusiasm. So, we let it stay.

My mother named it Prith because she said she resembled someone strong. One day however, we found it dead by the flowerbeds along with a pack of wolves.

Feeling guilt and sorrow, she locked herself in her room for days. Then, my father said to her: 'Guilt… guilt is painful. But it is good. It is a sign that you still have a Soul, a sign that you're still human.' And just like that, my sister came out. When she came out to bury her, we spotted another tiger cub. My sister named it that time, and she named it Hope."

"... I've told you everything I know thus far. I did my part, now do yours." Venetive stood up and grooms himself of snow.

"I have another proposition." Adam stood up as well with a serious look on his face.

"What is it?"

"Come with me. Together, we'll take our families back." He offered his hand to him.

After some thought, the chuckling Venetive declined.

"I... have chosen another path." he said with a sad smile. Adam received the message, and got for himself a favor.

"... I have no choice then. Lend me your dagger."

With the chief's dagger, Adam easily cut through the hard rope like butter. Afterwards, the 'merchant group' left silently.

"Wait! You forgot your Dagger!" Adam shouted at a distance.

Venetive turned around in reply,

"It suits you well! You can keep it! Maybe you can go find my family too while you're at it!" before disappearing into the horizon.

With the rise of the sun, a group of wandering merchants would roam around the lands of Lordrith, with them is a story that would get popular to the children.

The story about a ruthless young boy who defeated a group of bandits wielding only his dagger, flame, and mind.

It was the story of Adam, the Vagabond.