The wagons had been heading south toward échange for a few days now.

  Besides Edur’s, four other wagons trundled along, each crammed with four or five chained souls and drawn by one or two hulking mixed-breed horses.

  Of course, each horse was mounted by a trader, making sure they wouldn’t escape- not that they could.

  The chains tied their wrists and were loosely tied around a metal ring in the center of each locomotive.

  Edur was staring outside, the scenery sliding past them, the trees covered in snow and the faraway mountains peaks in the north slowly but surely receding.

  Snow fell through the cracks in the wooden roof above him, although that didn’t bother him as much as the other prisoners, who despite not knowing each other, huddled together in an attempt to warm themselves.

  Because yes, along with him, there were four other people- the owner of the voice that greeted him when he woke up, a rge and muscur man, was among them.

  No one seemed in the mood for discussion, and neither was Edur.

  He was too preoccupied with his thoughts, trying to sort out all that happened recently.

  Firstly, the accident.

  His thoughts first drifted to the ambush. The image of Vannie—bloodied, defeated, powerless—still haunted him and would probably do so for the many days to come.

  There was no other solution though, he knew she would go as far as to endanger herself for him and for what? The result would be the same.

  What he did was the best choice and only choice he could- or so he told himself.

  Next, the blizzard.

  Edur concluded that he was the cause of it, and the chains broken so easily were proof of something more hidden within him.

  He tried many times to break his chains the same way, to no avail, the only result a few curious gnces from his wagon-mates.

  The power he’d touched in that moment—it was gone now.

  Like waking from a dream and forgetting the nguage you’d just spoken.

  Only the echo remained.

  And the silence that followed it.

  Perhaps what he needed was to feel a sense of danger and strong emotions?

  His testing would have to wait, more pressing thoughts were waiting.

  His weird dream.

  Was it really a dream, though?

  He very much doubted it.

  Edur rarely dreamed- and often, they were dark, silent, and foggy.

  But this one? No, all of it was too real to be one.

  Too powerful, confusing, revealing, to be just a part of his wild imagination.

  The moon, the pain of his injury… Grail.

  Who was Grail? He seemed to know him and treated him nicely.

  Why couldn’t he tell him about his past? Did Edur do something so irredeemable it was better not said?

  Grail also mentioned not supposed to be here, and that there were others. Were there other people like him? With powers defying the norm?

  Perhaps they were both adventurers? Edur and he seemed to wield vast powers.

  One good result of this encounter, though, was a confirmation-

  Somewhere out there, Edur had a past, a presence in this world, and he was determined to find it…

  Well, he has to escape his current predicament first.

  Edur took another gnce at the people around.him. Could they form a team and attempt to escape? It definitely seemed possible, yet not realistic.

  Here, no one would even lift a finger to help a fellow prisoner.

  Edur didn’t like that.

  Where was their humanity, their empathy? Was it really that easy to lose one’s belief? Just scraps of metal around your wrists?

  Perhaps it was quite foolish of him to think it was that easy to hold onto morals when you had to do everything in your power to survive… But no one here cared about him to correct him.

  So Edur kept his beliefs close to his chest.

  For now.

  He already missed Holbeck, and terribly at that.

  Sensing his gaze, the buff man looked up at Edur.

  “What’re you staring at, brat?” the man growled.

  “Nothing,” said muttered.

  Provoking another right now was not the wisest idea.

  “Didn’t think so, little bitch.” he spat, looking back down to his thoughts.

  Edur silently sighed, relieved he avoided confrontation for now.

  Suddenly, he heard a shout in front of the traveling group, followed by another further, and a few more echoing the same call.

  The wagon halted slowly but surely.

  “It’s lunch time,” replied the young boy that sat next to Edur, sensing Edur’s incertitude about why they stopped.

  Edur turned his head to the kid.

  When he first saw him, his heart clenched at the sve trader’s cruelty. Who would ensve a boy?

  Until he realized the boy wasn’t actually human.

  He was a half-elf, earning him the disdain of the others for a reason Edur hadn’t yet grasped.

  Anyhow, the boy was eerie, calm and unexpressive, not what you would expect from a child being taken. Something about him gave Edur the chills.

  Despite that, his jaw tightened every time he saw the wounds all over the semi-human’s skin, most of them long and deep, most probably from sword wounds or the whip.

  When no one was looking, he healed the kid’s wrists, who were probably hurting like hell, the cold chains biting at his flesh, but avoiding healing other wounds in order not to arouse suspicion.

  A loud shout pulled him from his thoughts as he saw a hand lower the rear gate and climb inside.

  It was Navia,

  Narvia climbed into the wagon, her silhouette blotting out the pale daylight. Her cheerful grin was back—but it never touched her eyes.

  She too seemed to have noticed him as she grin widened,

  “Look who’s awake! The icing on the cake!” she shouted enthusiastically.

  Of course, Edur wouldn’t dain even respond to her.

  He did notice though she carried a small potato sack, filled to the brim with bread and roots.

  She retrieved a loaf of moldy bread to the ground and threw it.

  She did the same four times before closing the bag, throwing one st gnce inside the wagon in order to make sure everything was in order.

  “Alright, pouch coins. Take care of our guest here” she said, pcing her head on Edur’s head. He felt repulsed by her touch and felt like swatting it away, but the whip tied on her belt convinced him to remain still.

  “He’s worth more than all of you combined,” she decred, her fingers pying with the whip at her side. “Touch him, and I’ll gut you to feed the horses. Got it, little fucks? Especially you, Magil”

  No one responded, except the gruff man who huffed haughtily, although all threw an unreadable gnce at Edur.

  He didn’t know whether to feel safe or even more endangered after her statement.

  She ruffled his hair one more time before jumping off the wagon.

  Once again, each of the five- apart from the five- took a loaf of bread and voraciously ate it.

  Edur slowly bent down and took his own as well- it was the smallest one.

  Was that all they would get? Some barely edible once every few days?

  The white-haired youth’s mind was in furore. How messed up is the world currently? First war, then svery?

  His perspective opened up to discover another, much darker side of the world.

  It’s not what he quite envisioned, when he fantasized about visiting the world and uncovering all of its secrets.

  He gnced at each of the people that were chained like him inside the modest wagon.

  There was the muscur man- whom he assumed to be Magil, who was chewing loudly and taking big chunks of the small bread.

  To his side sat an elderly man, his gray hair short, and his striking blue eyes focused and calm, although tired, as if his body couldn’t catch up anymore with the man’s mind.

  He kept the bread in his hand but didn’t eat it yet, perhaps saving it for another time.

  To Edur’s left, there was the grey scenery, whilst to his right, the half-elf, taking slow and deliberate bites.

  Further to the right, there was a middle-aged woman, whose stature was-although not as muscur as Magil- striking.

  Each of her muscles is a testament of the harsh training they went through. She tore off small pieces of the bread, spat on them, softened the crust with her saliva, chewed, and swallowed—methodical, mechanical. Just spit and swallow.

  What was she doing?

  Finally, Edur focused on his own food, the measly small portion he had.

  He took a bite.

  Ouch.

  It was hard.

  He used the bread to tap the dropgate. It made a thud.

  His teeth weren’t going like the chatiment.

  A nudge stirred him. The half-elf beside him gave a sidelong gnce. Edur still couldn’t get over those pointed ears.

  “If it’s too hard,” the boy muttered, “just roll it around in your mouth a few times before chewing. Your spit will soften it.”

  Edur blinked, tilting his head at the odd advice—but obliged.

  With some effort, he managed to tear off a small piece and did exactly as told. It was still horrendous, but at least it wouldn’t feel like swallowing a stone or the weight of his conscience.

  He gave a small, grateful nod to the boy. Then, without hesitation, he tore a third of his own ration and handed it to him.

  No one else noticed. The others were either gnawing on their crusts or lost in their own haze of hunger and thought.

  The short boy stared at the offering, as if unsure what to make of it. Only after Edur gently nudged it closer did he accept it, biting silently.

  ‘He’ll need every scrap of food he can get to survive this,’ Edur thought. ‘Poor kid.’

  “You’re a strange one, you know that?” the boy finally said, gncing at him with a flicker of something like amusement. The tone wasn’t mocking—if anything, it sounded almost respectful.

  Edur gave a small shrug, chewing another hardened bite.

  “I hear that often,” he replied simply.