Origin

A small voice cut through the damp chill, which traveled the streets. No particular direction in mind.

"Hey brother Wulf, why aren't you going to the orphanage with us?"

Searching cedar eyes full of innocence bore into mine. Seeking an answer I did not wish to give. But I had to give this child, all the children, something. They are practically family, no, they were family. I decided to distance myself after gathering the necessary amount of funds to send them to the orphanage, in hopes of them living a better life.

"I'll be back... someday."

I want to reassure the little guy, but not at the cost of filling him with false hope. He... they, all deserve more than a half-ass farewell.

"It will take time, but I plan on seeing everyone again. Maybe a day, maybe a year. Only time will tell."

A half-truth. Yes, seeing them again won't be hard. But. I've done too much wrong in the process of placing these children on the path of hope. From stealing pocket change, to stealing bread every now and again. My morals won't let me stand here happily.

"Why?"

The little boy's tear ridden eyes reflected my own hazel eyes.

"You'll come to know in time, so until then, keep watch over the others for me."

Forcing a bright smile to spread across my lips, I turned away from what I had. And started down the desolate streets under a light drizzle.

***

Among the bustling streets of New Ludens, filled with shops and stalls were people trying to make a living for themselves. One of such people was myself. Of course I wasn't nearly selling close to the margin of everybody else in the district. Only a measly three coppers. Five on a good day of 'business'.

~ This should be enough to get me at least a third of a bread loaf. Thankfully I put out a bucket the other night to catch some rainwater. Hmm, still a shame I can't af- ~

My thoughts were interrupted by a gruff, elderly voice.

"You make 'nough fer some food boy?"

I turned towards the speaker with a slight, fake smile and a nod.

"Don't'chu lie t' me boy."

The corners of my mouth angled upwards more naturally after being read like a book.

"My name is Wulfgar, not 'boy'... Old man."

"Mine ain't 'old man' either 'Wulfgar', name's John."

We both chuckled at the exchange that seemed all too familiar, before I responded to his question.

"I have enough to stay alive, which is enough to be thankful for."

At this point we were facing each other, nonchalant in our body language. John began to shuffle his hand deep into one of his pockets before taking out a copper coin and flicking it at me.

Catching the coin with one hand, I looked back at John.

"Take it. Gods know yull need it more than I do. Hell, I'll barely put it to good use."

I gave him a nod. He then turned and walked back to the stall right across from me and started packing up.

~ Thanks. I'll put it to as much use as possible. ~

***

My sigh broke out through the run down hut I called home, settling itself amongst the dust and the creaking sound of my footsteps.

Krrrck. Krrrck. Brrrrckah.

"Fuck."

The old wood underneath where my foot had been was split into multiple pieces.

~ At least it wasn't a wall, or support pillar. Didn't get any splinters either. ~

I pulled my foot out of the floor and continued on through the hut.

~ I need a better way to make money. I just don't make enough right now. ~

Walking past the lone table and chair I tossed the bread I brought back onto the table, then went out the back where a few boards were broken and missing. There was an unused well about forty paces in front of me that I walked toward.

~ Well, well, well! I draw water from you once again! ~

...

I cringed at my own thoughts while facepalming before I began drawing water. It was then I heard someone call out to me. Or rather, they spoke with signficance and stipulation. As if my utmost attention 'must' be directed towards them.

"You."

"Huh?!"

My body swiveled around as hastily as I could turn it, searching for the voice that demanded my attention. But to my surprise, only the familiarity of the hut and surroundings I had left from remained in my sight. Everything was... normal.

"You. Wulfgar Guthson."

They had spoke out to me again as if right beside me, causing me to turn all around me.

~ Who is- rather, 'what' is talking to me? ~

I stopped turning my body, realising that the voice was being transmitted, somehow, instead of being spoken.

"You have been elected by the Gods, to bear the mark of the chosen. You're to be known as an inheritor. Although not destined, for that you have been granted 'enhancement'."

The Gods' voice ended, just as abruptly as it came.

~ What the fuck. Chosen? Me? Why? ~

Those who bear the mark of the chosen were always associated with heroes. So why didn't they pick someone strong and of good heart. Why not somebody that will do what is right without a second thought? In other words.

~ What? Why did they choose me of all people? I don't want anything. Nor do I deserve anything. ~