Scarred

Talos

I stepped out of the shower and into a misty bathroom. My black wet hair clung to my translucent skin. The bags under my eyes shone the unspoken truth of my life. I was weary and tired, all I wanted was to rest. Scars ran across my body, old ones and one soon to be. The bruises and stitches on my stomach stung like crazy. I ripped up my old clothes. Torn and frayed, they were no longer suitable for wearing. I cleansed the and use them to wrap my injuries.

I pulled on a green, long sleeved tunic and black pants. I brushed and tied back my long hair. Nothing I had on was my own. Everything came from someone else. Talos, I said in my mind. Why did I chose that name? I had a chance to start fresh with a new life, or tell the truth. But who in the world would have believed me. My father, even my sister, thought I was dead.

I stepped out to see Dalton waiting for me. He stood alone, his eyes scanned me with uncertainty. I looked down, my welcome was worn out. "I will not ask what happened to you. I know better than to do that. I myself was in the army, it is not as glamorous as it seems to be. How young?" he asked.

"I was seven," I forced out.

"Oh Gods, that young. How long did they hold you?"
"I escaped three days ago."
"You need a healer."
"I am fine."
"The blood speaks the truth. Those injuries could get worse."
"I have survived worse."
"I can not just let you die. You saved my son, I cannot forget that."
"I will be out by tomorrow morning. It would be better if you just forgot about me."
"I can't."
"The men that took me will come for me. I do not wish to endanger any of you. Do not try to stop me."
I walked away and stepped into the living room. A couch was made into a bed and food was set out. Roast beef and steam vegetables. Dalton left me alone. Stars shone through the window, the others were probably in bed. The roast beef was divine. Then again any real food after that long would be.

Daltron walked down the stairs with a pack. "I know I can not stop you from leaving. But you are not leaving here empty handed. There's a few spare sets of clothes, some bedding, and a bit of my wife's food. There is also 100 wran in there as well. I know it is not much, but it is the most we can do."

"This is more than anyone else have ever given to me. Thank you."

"There is another village about fifteen miles away to the east. It should be safe for you to seek treatment there."

"Farewell. "

"Goodbye. Safe travels."

I left with out a word to the rest of the family. It was safer that way. The fewer people who saw me, that safer I would be. I could not bear the thought of them being harmed due to my selfishness. I wanted to stay with them. I wanted warmth, shelter, and real food.

But at what price was I willing to sacrifice my morals. I could not involve them. I reached the forest and turned the opposite direction from which I was guided. I scurried into the forest, leaving the civilization behind for good.

I spent my first night on the hard ground, grateful that I had found some brush to make a softer bed than the stone floor I once laid. I ran again in the morning, trying to gain as much ground between the village and me. A warn fluid leaked through my shirt. My wounds had opened again. I would need a healer if these broke again. My bandages were reapplied with more pressure this time, hopefully this would hold. I ran for three more days untill I ran out of food. With no wepon to hunt with, I needed to find someone and fast. My body could not take much more. Another day passed, my body was growing weak, slowing to barely a walk. I found a small creek in a clearing, I ran to it. The thought of water spurred my strength.

The cool water rushed into my mouth, vanquishing the dry parch I had moments ago. A twig broke behind me, I quickly attempted to get up and amanged after a few seconds. A pair of men stood behind. They seemed about my age, yet I knew I looked twenty years older than I was. Both wore a uniform of sorts, it was not military but the design was common for combat groups. They both bore the same symbol of a silver flame upon the shoulder of their dark uniform. One stepped towards me, his grey hair and eyes showed worry.

"Are you okay?" He asked, "You seem a bit off."

I was going to respond but my body would not listen. I could not speak, the pain in my stomach grew to unbearable measures. My sight danced, nothing stayed in one place. I remember falling, but not the rest.