The daily life of monsters

Chapter X-4: Rest

It's getting dark.

The words come from nowhere but yourself, with the same tone a mother has when reminding their child that it's time to stop playing. Despite that, it feels natural, as if those words had been carved into your body for a generation.

You look up to confirm your internal clock. The moon lingers high in the sky, scowling down upon the only soul who was still awake. You slow your pace bit by bit, gauging your stamina internally before coming to the conclusion that you were better off just sticking to your instincts. With a quick sweep of the nearby landscape you find a moderately nice-looking patch of grass and crawl down into it, rolling into a ball as you do.

It's quite cold tonight.

+++

"...s he dead?"

"Just prod him a bit with your stick. If he wakes up, we can just kill him."

You awake to two voices; a man and a woman. The man has a voice as deep as a grizzly bear and the woman's voice is unusually tired, with the woman sounding in charge of the operation.

"I'm sorry about this."

The crook barely mutters his apology before poking you in the back with a stick the size of a sheath, digging into your back a few times. The pain is a tickle at best and you decide that the best decision is to continue playing dead, listening in to how the situation plays out.

"Jik, I think he's dead."

"Well, nick his stuff. We haven't got all day, there's still about 25 miles of road to cover."

"Alright."

You feel your bag being lifted off your leg and away, leaving you suddenly anxious. Despite parting with your belongings, you stay vigilant and avoid tensing up your muscles. Your senses start coming back to you as the numbing from the cold wears off; the grass under you smells fresh.

For a moment the pair of them pause, not a single footstep between them. The silence brings a somewhat uncomfortable taste in the air and you can feel the hairs on your body stand up in anticipation.

"GET HIS CLOTHES! Are you a moron?"

"I don't think..."

"Clothes. Now."

Despite the males whimpers, he was clearly unable to stay within his comfort zone. You hear the footsteps come closer, then feel him prodding your shoulders and sides, trying to find a place to start.

"What happened to this guy..."

From his aimless muttering, you assume he got a proper look at your face. That was one of the tamest reactions that you had seen outside the walls of Lioteca castle. Despite pretending to be dead and being looted, you feel like this stranger is refreshing to 'talk' to.

Eventually, lifts you up and pulls away your cloak, pulling it cleanly off your neck after pushing it towards your head. He lowers you down carefully, placing the cloak down next to you and then suddenly going silent.

"We have a problem."

"What is it now."

"This guy is an agent for the royals. Oh lord, this is bad news."

You hear the women quickly stomp over, taking a spot next to where the man was before groaning to herself loudly.

"Well, clearly his fancy magical bullshit didn't save him. Get that dagger, it's probably worth a lot."

Just as you feel the presence of someone passing over and above you, you decide that now was probably the time to reveal yourself. Without warning, you open your eyes and launch your right arm towards the cloak, grasping onto it and pulling it closer in one swift motion. The man standing over you let out a small yelp while the woman shrieked, taking a few steps back and taking out a dagger of her own. As you grasp on to the cloak, you realise that the tips of your fingers feel like they're on fire from the impact on the ground; the freeze still hadn't faded just yet.

"Good morning."

Your voice is barely a whisper but you can barely muffle a smile for your barely witty remark. You shoot the friendliest glance you can muster at the man who still stands over you and he takes a step to the other side, leaving you stuck between the pair. As you get up, you slide the cloak over your neck and put up the hood, hiding your face as much as possible from the early morning sun.

"Get away from me, freak!"

The order comes from the woman, her blade and brave remark giving off a different message from her quivering legs. Quietly, you stand up and approach her, ignoring her stabbing motions and reaching for your bag.

"Get... AWAY!"

Her blade flies out into the middle of your chest, the cheap metal making an uneven cut into your flesh. As her blade penetrates you, she jumps back triumphantly, but her sense of victory would be crushed the moment she felt your arm move despite her attack, grabbing your bag off of her and returning your bag to the spot on your left leg.

"That's going to leave a scar."

Your voice has finally returned, now able to say something audible; although it wasn't the best note for an introduction. The woman collapses backwards, almost beginning to cry as she scuttles backwards, directly away from you.

"Freak. Monster. Abomination."

Despite her desperate insults, you turn around towards the man, ignoring her completely. As you begin to walk towards him, you pull the dagger out of your chest and hand it to him, who seems to be frozen in fear.

"Nice to meet you."

He nods slowly, taking the dagger and shaking off the blood, not taking his gaze off of you, making sure to not even blink. You continue to stare at him, waiting for a response in complete silence, enjoying the terrifying tension in the air. Eventually he forces a smile and finds enough confidence to give a response.

"Nice to meet you too."

"Do you know how to get to Ainbrandel?"

You turn your head inquisitively, hoping that any missed words can be filled in through body language. The man seems to answer almost automatically, his voice much more confident than before.

"Follow this road until you get to a town, then take the path closest to the edge of the forest. It's pretty simple."

Almost immediately, you reach into your bag and pull out two copper coins; the rest that you have. Beckoning him to come closer, you drop the coins into his open hand, quietly enjoying the shocked expression on his face.

"You need it more than I do."

Feeling satisfied with your encounter, you decide not to waste any more time. Following the strangers instruction, you resume your walk down the small dirt path, a tiny bit of pep in your step. After about a minute of walking, you hear a voice from behind you, yelling from a small distance away.

"Thank you!"

You turn, nod and wave before continuing on with your journey. It's common courtesy, after all.