Chapter 0.2

The metal of his armor dug heavily into his arms, the joints rested harshly against his skin. It was a bad idea to fall asleep in his protection but he would not be caught without it anymore. The events of yesterday had shook him harder than he thought it could. He was exposed to her, and completely unaware of her presence as she had nursed him. This did not sit well with him. The knight sat up shakily, the wound had not grown better, its fiery touch burned as he moved. Ragged breaths escaped his lips, he was not well, and he knew that. 

‘It would be incredibly foolish to leave like this. I need to heal a little more then I shall  be on my way. I'll wait here for 4 days.’ He agreed with himself silently. Turning his head, he saw the door was open completely, he had sworn that he closed it last night. ‘Oh well, must be my head messing with me, perhaps i'm getting feverish.’ With the last though, it dawned on him that there was a basket in the doorway. A small wicker basket with fresh apples sitting nicely, waiting to be picked up and used. Small white flower laid buried between the apples, peeking out into the smooth sunlight. The weather was absolutely beautiful. 

With great effort, he pushed off the bed and walked achingly to the basket. He picked it up noticing once more the note that barely said sorry. It was strange, but maybe it was just from the girl for.. well whatever she had done wrong. Even though he was unhappy that yesterday was indeed strange and unpleasant. She had done nothing that be cause for an apology. This thought disturbed him, he had been quite angry yesterday. But now, he thought through what had happened. 

Weak and broken, he had come into what he could assume was her cabin, disregarding the dust as a factor, and slept on the bed that was not his. She then took it upon herself to stitch up his wound, make him food, and then attempt to wash his armor in that icing water. In the end, she had even brought him more food and flowers, then apologized for helping him. This reaction to the situation yesterday was embarrassing, he had been so angry at whoever had taken his armor, but now there was a strong feeling in his gut that he had to find her, and explain. Fore he was the one that should be sorry, not her. These thoughts rushed around his head so fast that it began to throb and cause pain. It was decided, he would stay a week in the cabin, heal a little more and spend his time trying to find her so that he could talk. He had a couple questions for her. Why was the cabin deserted, why did she help him, does she have anyone with her. She seemed a bit young to make it in the woods alone. 

The days passed slowly by. Nothing was happening. The wound on his side was making good progress. It was the fourth day out of the week and he had developed a routine. Every morning, he would wake up and find the basket by the door, filled once more with food for him. There would even be a note that read Hello, or good morning. The second day when this happened he decided to stay up all night and stake out the front door to try and talk with her. But she didn't show. He sat outside all night in the shivering cold, but nothing came from the forest. When dawn broke over the hills, he was very tired. He then decided to go to sleep for a little bit, but woke up to the basket once more. Only this time it was at the foot of his bed and there was a silly face on the note, commented with a little mocking haha. It made him anxious to find her, but he was enjoying his time. She didn't seem afraid to do what she wanted around him, even though they have never actually met. There was a peppy air around the image he had constructed of her, he didn't know why but he just couldn’t get her out of his head. 

On the last day of the promised week, he packed up his gear. The armor he wore had not come off in the days he had stayed there. Even through sleep, he was determined to not slip up again, even if she was just a girl, she was a stranger. He turned to the candle on the night stand. It was still burning, inviting any who say the light to come rest in the dusty cabin. ‘Why was it so dusty and unused?’ He thought as he closed the door. It looked just as it had the first day he met it. Old, abandoned, but warm enough to enter. The trees rustled in the wind, the sun was just beginning to rise above the distant hills. Unfurling its rays onto the earth around it, giving the knight a little sunshine to go about the day.

 He rationalized that if there is a cabin on the outskirts of the woods then there should be a town more towards the valley. And that’s where he would try to go. Stock back up on supplies, the beast had destroyed all his provisions and his favorite backpack. His steps took him away from the cabin, but he did not notice that to his back, there was a girl in the woods. She held a very large basket with a hefty meal, prepared to share with her new friend. He didn't notice that the smile he had given her for the past few days became a grim tight lipped frown. She turned silently back into the woods, but abandoned the basket on the edge of the woods. 

The sun came over the hills and beat down onto the knight. Even though his wound was closed, it was still sore and itched uncomfortably under his bandages. The cabin grew small in the distance behind him, and he wondered if he would ever be back, a sense of regret filled him that he never got to meet the mysterious girl. He moved quickly over hills and down into the valley of where he suspected there may be a town. To his pleasant surprise, he was correct in his hunch. A small village was seen nestled in the far plains of the grasslands. Trees speckling around the outskirts. There wasn’t much golds in his pouch but maybe he could figure something out. He always hung out on the hope that someone would be so kind as to just give him what he needed, but it was losing its reality as every town he had come into proved to be harsh. 

There were no gates around the town, and it felt oddly placed. Just smacked down onto the plains, he wondered what the people did around here, there were no farms, factories or anything like that. As he closed into the outskirts of town, he realized why the place wasn’t supported by trade of anything. In the streets, there lay drunken sailors, floosy s***s hoping to find their next meal ticket with a flash of their legs. Loud clamoring filled out from the windows of each bar and restaurant. This place wasn’t like the town he was used to, this was a Treigthe, A pirated town. 

The knight had never come across one before, but he had picked up stories. They were town surviving only on the ale and meat from its bars. The women there were mostly prostitutes and didn't seem to make a great living because the dirty live they lived in the town had taken a toll to their appearance. A Treigthe was a town that was controlled by whatever pirates had taken over, or that the common villagers had corrupted to pirate standards of living. It was not a pleasant place if that was not your chosen lifestyle. The town had a foul stench that burrowed into the knights nose, it made his head fuzzy. A smoke haze hung in the air, making everything seem grey, the smoke stung his eyes and they begged for release. His eyes teared up due to the nasty smoke attacking him. He held his pouch a little closer to him, he had been pickpocket many times before, but this was all he had so he had to be careful. 

A woman came up behind him and drunkenly draped her arm over his shoulders, the booze on her breath mixed with the stench of smoke, she was foul. Once golden hair had become natted and brown, her skin was pulled tightly over her cheekbones, eyes sunken sickly into her head. She appeared to be very hungry and sick. Beautiful sparkling green eyes had become dull and lifeless. She spoke to him in drunken slurs the booze bottle in her hand tinked onto his armor as he continued walking. 

“Hey baby, why are you wearing that stuff,” She pawed at the armor and almost fell onto her face from tripping over a passed out man on the ground, his body being picked at by the vultures of thieves that stole his shoes. “I can make you so much more comfier. I’ll even make it cheap for yah baby. I'll take any food if you have it, then i'm yours. Don't you want to make mommy happy baby.” He shrugged of the woman, and she threw the empty bottle at his back at he stalked off. Disgusted by the whole town. The bottle shattered on his armor, but he wasn't phased. He continued to walk down the decrepit street. The woman fell to her knees and began to laugh crazily, obviously drunk out of her mind. This place was atrocious, but he had to try and find some supplies.

 A small shop caught his attention, in the window there was a poster. It was old and soaked with spilled booze, but he made out the picture on its cover. It was a girl, with long purple hair, running frightened from a crowd of people. They seemed to be chasing her into the woods, fear was coated into her eyes but she appeared to be much younger. There was 3 words on the paper that hadn't been destroyed by the alcohol. It read, Elf. 1654. Away. He assumed 1654 was a year, that was 6 years ago. He was very curious about the poster, and decided to ask about its existence. The door opened heavily to reveal a small shop. I was a book store by the look of it, with a bounty of drugs and assorted narcotics stacked along the literature. it was a sad sight to see shaky scrawny children with small bags hustling to and fro, either stealing the merchandise or selling it to unbearable customers. A small girl bumped into him and she fell backwards onto the ground. The collision knocked loose the pills in her hands, and she looked frantically saying to herself, 

“If I lose any, Mother will be very angry with me.” At that, she rubbed her cheek as if remembering where she had been struck before. The knight saw a pill beneath her foot and bent to help her collect her belongings. However, as he reached for it, she swatted his hand away and hissed viciously. Matted hair clumped around her young thin face looked like a lion’s mane, doubling with her bright sickly yellow eyes and sharp foul teeth. She looked absolutely wild. Her feet kicked and she scampered off like a wild animal on all fours. 

He was not excited to stay in this place anymore than he had to, so he quickly walked around asking for the owner of the store. A sick young man pointed him to a back room with a mangled hand. Anxiously, he followed the man’s direction. He carefully pushed open a hard wooden door, it creaked loudly as it opened. The store was incredibly old, not unlike its owner. Behind the door sat an old woman behind a small desk. Her skin was as wrinkled as the decrepit papers in front of her. Tiny grey eyes glazed over him, not even taking note of his arrival. She lifted her arm to write something on the papers in front of her, he was surprised when she didn't creak like the door did when he opened it. He cleared his throat loudly, and she slowly looked up at him. Then back at her paper. With ages passing, she laid down her quill and picked up her glasses, through several tries because they kept falling out of her grasp. Achingly painfully slow, she raised them and put them on her face. She smiled and folded her hands together neatly on the table,

“Next.” she called to him. ‘Guess that means she will talk to me?’ He inquired to himself. The room was dank and smelled strongly of old and dust. Papers littered the ground around her and covered her desk, there was no organization, but she was working on something apparently. 

He placed the paper in front of her and shyly asked,

“This girl. What happened?” He wasn’t very fond of talking, but he was to curious to have it bother him now. The woman picked up the paper and shakily raised it to her eyes, licking her old lips, and adjusting her glasses with the other hand. She stared intently at the paper for a few minutes, Knight waited patiently for her to finish and explain, but it seemed to be taking forever. Breaking the death bending silence, she handed back the paper and took a deep breath. He was anxious to hear a long story about the account, but she only said,

“I don’t know.” and picked up the quill once more. She was slightly enraged by this, unknown as to why he was angry, He waved the paper in her face and said,

“But it was in your window. You must know”

“Sugar, I am sure its just a paper. Now go run along and play with your friends, I am very busy with my work dear.” She retorted sweetly, and began to write. He noticed however that her quill was dry without ink, and all the papers by her were blank. he sighed, whatever information she could have given him probably would’ve been incorrect anyways. She was just a crazy old lady who ran a drug bend, life goes on.

There was still determination behind his steps as he left the filthy book store, shivers running up his spin as a skeletal child glared him down, a birthmark scarred his face, contorted with a long gnarled scar. ‘This should not be their life,’ he sadly thought. The door shut and he was glad to be back into the stinging smoke of the filthy street. He looked down at the paper, the fear in her eyes dug into him and he felt a strange sadness. A responsibility to help.

The sun was almost directly over the village, mid noon. usually the sun would be bright and warming, but not here. The smoke just became a dirty brown, blocking the sun and its warmth. The air was chilled and damp, he really was beginning to hate this place. ‘One more try.’ he promised himself, ’Then i’ll leave here.’ Suddenly, a young woman came stumbling up to him. There was something different though, she wasn't stumbling drunkenly and she looked fairly normal for a villager here. Her eyes were glazed over as she looked up at him, hunched over. She fell to her knees and held up a hand that had been clutching her stomach. It was stained red. He ran over to help her, maybe she was a traveler passing through and had become victim to a mugging gone wrong. He sat on his knees and swept her up in his arms. Her body didn't feel heavy as adrenaline fueled him to save this innocent woman. His spoke to ask what was the issue and where he could get medical help, but something cut him off. A sharp blade pushed  under the seam of his old helmet and onto on the edge of his neck, silencing his words. The woman, unharmed, let herself down from his arms, but kept the knife tightly against his throat. The woman spoke in a sickly twisted voice, cruel and dead from the world, 

“Purse please sugar.” And held out her hand expectantly, she had done this many times before. He stood motionless for a second, debating his choices. That purse was all he had on him, otherwise it would just be him in armor wandering with nothing. That was not acceptable. With sudden fluid motion, he grabbed her arm and violently twisted her body around, pinning her in front of him by holding her arm and shoulder. She let out a cry of pain and began to talk rapidly to him. She begged, 

“Oh i’m sorry, please don’t hurt me, I didn't mean it. I have kids to feed. You must know what it’s like here. Have some sympathy, please.” Her voice sickened him, it was unlike a normal person’s tone. It was diseased and dirty. She caught a glimpse of the paper he had balled in his hand.And she made a new angle for escape.

“Say what's that paper for? I know what it’s about. If I help you, then you’ll let me go right? I can help you, cm’n what do you say. I can tell you whatever you need to know, I was there.” her voice begged him, and he was intrigued, but her voice wanted to throw her away from him and leave this place in the dust. Then he looked at the paper again, the girl’s eyes dug into him. As if they were begging for him to help her. Even through the paper. He released her from the hold, and she quickly gained distance, he thought for a second that she would make a run for it, but she was true to her word and held out her hand for the paper. The knight handed it over, his metal rampling in the smoky air. 

“So what do you want to know? Oh you’re probably a hunter aren't you. Shoulda known, the metal and all.” she commented, analyzing his character, her sunken eyes sending him chills.

“What is a hunter?” he grievously inquired.

“You know. A hunter. They go and kill things. We get them here because they are looking for her.” She said pointing at the image of the girl. “None of them have succeeded in killing the little menace though.” 

At the word menace, he tensed uncomfortably, how dare this w***e call her a menace. Then he wondered why he was so angry at that, the girl was nothing to him. He just had to find her and say thank you. 

“Why would they be hunting her, she is just a girl.” The woman gave a big sigh, as though explaining the story was the biggest inconvenience of her life. 

“Because of what she is, stupid. Well if you aren’t going to hunt her down once and for all, then why am I even talking to you. I have other things to get to.” He moved in close, pushing her back into the building behind her. He leaned close to her face and glared deviously at her, his brown eyes glinting behind the rusted metal. He spoke in a solid, demanding tone. 

“What is she?” The woman squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze and shyly spoke,

“It’s because she’s a,” She paused and whispered as if the existence of the girl was a sin that could not be utter, “An elf. Someone had raised her in secret in the town but when her ears sprouted, and her magic abilities became known. The others decided that she wasn’t welcome here.” The knight sighed, yet again the town had shown their best face, scaring a helpless small child into the woods just because her race wasn’t desired by those around her. Anger filled him, and he raised his arm. The wood beside the woman’s face caved and splintered as his fist burst through the wall. His punch was directly by her face, sending a good amount of shock through her body. Her face went blank, but he loomed in closer, intent to get the entire story. 

“So the people here, chased a innocent girl into the woods, to live or die on her own, just because she was different?”

“Hey it’s not like that. Well it did happen, but we had to. You know how elves are. Vile nasty creatures. Always lying and stealing, ruining peoples lives because it’s fun to them.”

He shook his head at the irony of her words. The village built on foul deeds burned out a child, just because the tales of other foul deeds of her kind outweighed theirs. 

“Why do you still want the hunters to kill her off? Haven’t you people done enough to her?” he demanded, backing away from the woman. 

“Well.. she’s still alive. And she’s still an elf. We don’t want her near us. It’s bad luck. And well, people and elves just don’t get along. You must remember the war. Those evil s***s get whatever we throw at them, they deserve it. All of them” At this comment, he chuckled with disbelief,

“Oh sorry to hear you all are scared of a little bit of bad luck. I wouldn’t want you to have bad luck, so i’ll go be rid of her. So that you can go back to your little paradise you have made for yourselves.” The knight angrily stormed away from the woman, the whole encounter was not to his liking, but now he knew a bit more. 

There had always been stories passed around the towns he was in, that elves were the worst species in Durheim. The King had even sent out an order that any open landed elves were to be struck down and killed. The humans of the lands took great liking to this because of their hateful past with elves. 

A couple Hundred years ago, the lands were ruled by the An Ris. They were a powerful clan of disturbed elves, they pillaged the lands they ruled, raping, murdering, stealing whenever wherever they wanted. The reign went on for 300 years until the inbred line of rulers failed to procreate a 2nd son.  The elven clansmen dispersed into the lands, declaring that if their rule would not continue, then neither shall the lives of the subjects the tormented. The took up arms and swept their forces across the wild plains. The villagers refused to simply roll over in most villages and tried to fight back, but elves had the upper hand. Being masters of weaponry and heavy artillery it was unnecessary slaughter to the highest degree of cruelty. The king of Durheim was on the border of their tyrannic reign, and declare war on them. The war was the bloodiest, worst, longest ever seen in the Capitals history. The battles raged for 100 years, but seeing as how the elves were fewer in numbers than the normal human soldiers, the king's men overpowered them. The Elves fled into the lands, desolate and quiet. The rage from the deaths, and pain that they caused had never been properly nursed, and the humans still held a mighty hatred towards the elven kind.

This Treigthe was no exception to the lost rage from the Evling war. The knight had gotten his answers, and he had seen tormented souls living just as they were. He had had enough of this place for a lifetime, and proceeded back the way he came. Through the dirty dank streets, choking on the haze hanging in the air. He was heading back towards the cabin. This time was different, he had to find the girl, and he wasn’t going to leave until he did. 

As he reached the outskirts of town, the sun began to shine just above the rolling hills, setting into the ground. Everywhere he had gone, people always marveled at the sunsets, but he found no particular interest in them. Sure they were pretty to look at but that just meant that he had an entire night to go through before the sun came back and he got to do anything more. The sunshine that led his life dictated simply by the rotation of the earth. It may have been a silly notion but he liked sunshine, just not when it had to leave him.