Take me back

It's getting late.

Around dusk, around this time, when the veil of darkness starts to descend to cover the whole of Ceris, is when we would look for a place to settle down for the night. Some place hidden and obscured. While we can't settle in a clearing, each of us would look for our own personal paradise. Some prefer to feel snug in a crevice, some huddled together, others atop a tree, ultimately it's each to their own preference.

We couldn't make fire on most nights, which meant nothing to heat ourselves with or a warm meal to fill us up. We made up for it in banter instead. Jokes and gossip about the camp, stories of our past lives, tales from far away lands, powerful beings of myth and legend, heroisms committed once upon a time. Whenever we couldn't warm ourselves physically we would do it spiritually or mentally.

It takes a lot of resilience to be nomadic, with all that travelling and danger seeking. Without Jarrem I doubt we would have lasted this long. I look up to him - if it wasn't already obvious. He has done a lot for me, for everyone under his care. I owe him a lot; I owe him my life. I'm glad he grabbed me along when he did back then.

I lost my family at a young age. My mother died giving birth to me. At least that's what my father told me. I had a brother but I don't really remember anything about him other than I had one. He never really talked about him, just that he died from a monster. Eventually, I lost my old man too. We were at a small town occupied by the Hibijens when he had to leave me for a job. Told me he'd come back in a day or so, he never did make it back. A week later, there was news of a body found, mangled beyond identification. 

I knew it was him. We were the only humans in this town, we haven't seen any others. I was alone and I had to survive. I was around twelve at that time. Out of pity, the people around me helped me for a while. They offered me food and their condolences for the loss of my father. I was too young to be alone after all. Much too young in any races' eyes. Once the people's welcome and pity turned cold I resorted to begging in the town's market.

It worked well at the beginning. Until I became a constant face and people started to tire of my begging. So I started looking for work. There wasn't a lot I could do as a small child. So I was offered menial chores most of the time, basic errands in exchange for a meal or coin or anything that would allow me to eat for the day. There were days when I wouldn't get anything from begging or I won't find any work. Those times I found myself having to commit rather unsavoury things and it sucked. It sucked having to steal. It sucked to get caught. It sucked to fucking starve.

Relying on another's kindness to survive had its flaws but it kept me alive for a time. But it wasn't the most effective strategy. With having to sometimes steal and sometimes getting caught, I started having a reputation that of a thief. People started looking at me not as someone unfortunate but rather an eye sore bordering the criminal. After a while, stalls stopped entertaining the idea of me hanging around their place of business.

One day, while I was coming home from my day at the market, I saw an old Hibijen pushing his cart stock full of wooden crates. He was struggling and clearly needed help. If no one would, I figured I should help him myself. I offered him my help and he was grateful that I did. When we finally reached his house, me and the old Hibijen slumped on the ground in exhaustion. I turned to look at him and he too did the same. Our eyes locked and we started laughing against the wheels of the cart. He asked me to wait as he went inside his hut. When he did eventually came out, it was with a brown bag in hand.

He handed it to me and thanked me for my help. I looked inside and found three bread rolls as well as a wrapped cut of jerky. I was overjoyed, I haven't had meat in such a long time. I hugged the old Hibijen and thanked him profusely. He said it was alright and that he too was thankful that I offered him a hand when I did. 'You're a good kid', he said. 'I know you did what you did because you had to. And smile a lot more, you look good when you do.' I didn't know what to say to him. The old man then patted me on my head and went back to his hut.

As I was making my way back to my shack, the old man's words lingering in my head. He knew me and the reputation I was making for myself. He knew and understood what I was going through. It was a different type of kindness, one that I hadn't felt for a long time. Different from the ones in the market. Different from the charity others bestow to me on a daily basis. It was empathy. I took his words to heart, knowing that he meant well.

The following day, I awoke early. Made my way to the river and washed myself. I put on my brightest smile and started going through each and every stall asking for work. I kept my smile as I was turned down repeatedly, one stall to the next. It wasn't going to be easy to overturn what the people think of me but I was more than willing to see it through.

I never begged again after that and people started to take notice of my change. It probably helped that I stopped the stealing too. I still starved every now and again, but the old man would seek me out in the market once a week and ask for my help with his cart in exchange for food. Something a greatly appreciated. 

Slowly my surrounding began to change. The vendors stopped seeing me as a nuisance out to pester them and their customers. They started viewing me the same way they would themselves. I was a fellow vendor and my wares are my services. They started offering me work beyond menial tasks. This time, not out of pity, but in actual need of service. I stopped surviving and I started living.

Until one day when a group of nomads happened along.

There was no affinity from me to them when I saw their little group. While of the same race, me and my father mostly kept to ourselves when I was with him. I felt no need to approach them as I was doing well for myself at that time. It wasn't until I came across a three headed goat, that I knew is being shepherded by one of the nomads, that I had a chance to talk with one of them. I returned the goat to a man named Jarrem - the leader of their group. He was an ok guy. He thanked me for my efforts and offered me a meal for the night.

From then on, he would seek me out in the market to ask for help with anything regarded to the town. I was the only human there that has stayed for a long time so he felt it easier to ask for my services instead of a native Hibijen. He paid me well, so I found myself doing a lot more work for him. Eventually, he offered me to work for him exclusively until him and his group leaves to which I accepted. I tended to his herd at day and stayed to mingle with the other nomads at night. We talked about their travels, the people they've met, sights they've seen, danger's they've encountered, amongst other things.

They talked about Jarrem too - a lot actually. How he used to be a mercenary. His skills with the sword whenever he's had to wield it. They talked about how great he is and how they respect him a lot. They practically worship. I can't blame them for admiring the guy when I myself am on the receiving end of his kindness. I grew close to the nomads, grew close to Jarrem. I came to admire him and he came to like me - no it wasn't pity, it was like. Yeah, of course he likes me. How could he not?

On the night before the nomads were set to depart, the nomads had themselves a little celebration and I was invited. It was a feast. The most amount of feed I've seen in my life at that time. I couldn't hold myself back and stuffed myself full which earned the laughter of those who saw me. Once things started dying down later into the night, Jarrem invited to have a talk with him.

We sat by the fire, an earshot's distance away from everyone else. We had a small talk about the party. About specific nomads within the group. A joke and a laugh here and there. He asked me how I've enjoyed my time with them. If their food was to my liking. Both to which I responded positively. He then asked me if I wanted to join them in their travels. A question I remember answering with silence.

After a long pause, Jarrem spoke once again. 

I want to know how you got here. Would you mind telling me about yourself, Sol? He asked.

I didn't know what it was. Maybe it was his visage, how he was looking at me warmly even with his stern face. Or his silhouette casted by the fire, looking broad and secure. It might've been because talking to him brought me back to the time when I was still with my father. Whatever it was, it made me feel safe. Like I could unravel myself to him, which I did.

About the death of my mother after giving birth to me. The loss of my brother at a time when I was too young to even understand. My last days with my father before he took the job that got him killed. What I did after hearing of his death. How I begged and stole to survive. The old hibijen that helped me and changed me for the better. Everything till now.

We were quiet for a while, I watched the flames flicker in front of me, waiting on Jarrem. After a while, he stood up and sat next to me. He took off his cloak wordlessly and draped it on my shoulders. Have a goodnight Sol, we'll have ourselves a long day tomorrow. He patted my shoulders and left. The next day, he came to my shack at an early hour. Told me to pack my things and asked me if I've had breakfast yet.

It's been about nine years now since that night and I've been travelling with him ever since. I can't help but think of what they're doing right now. Hopefully they're alright and safe. They can take their chances in the mountains instead of this open burial of a place.

I wonder if they're talking about me now. Kaya and Mayy'k are surely telling the tale of my heroism and sacrifice to the others! Sol the brave. Has a nice ring to it. Hopefully Sarah won't miss me for too long and she finds herself a decent man. I hope Hamel actually exists and everyone can finally find a place to settle down.

...

I hope I've made Jarrem proud...

...

 Wow, its getting late. Soon it will be too dark to run.

 I'm feeling thirsty now too. Do these guys have water by any chance?