"40 coppers? Huh."
Mulad walked through the darkened streets toward where the beggars would congregate to sleep.
The sun had fallen beneath the golden dunes of sand. The blackened sky was filled with brilliant shining stars, that shaped into various constellations of which Mulad didn't know the names of. They radiated a mysterious aura of intrigue. No one truly knew what they were: lights, angels, maybe even smaller suns. It wasn't something Mulad ever queried. Nobody had truly a definite answer.
A chill ran up Mulad's spine as he walked through the cold darkness. At nights, the burning hot desert becomes a frozen wasteland. It had always been absolutely essential for Mulad to not stay out of the city for too long. Otherwise, he would be risking a painfully frozen death.
Behind a hut, rounding the corner, a clearing of the residing houses were filled by people crowding around fires and tents. Leather tarps were tied up to wooden steaks to provide makeshift cover from the elements. That is if it was ever required, but usually, it wasn't.
"Mulad! Mulad is back!"
Hearing this Mulad covered his missing arm within a veil of cloth that he had wrapped around his body along the way.
A hoard of young homeless orphans rushed toward Mulad. Their cheerful faces brightened Mulad's deteriorated sentiments. To Mulad they were almost like little brothers. People that he felt the urge to protect at any cost.
Mulad Initially took the hunting job to pay for food for the kids. With that having fallen through, it felt like he failed to provide for those who he loved.
One of the boy's, the oldest of the group called out, "Mulad is so cool! Going out to fight monsters. I want to be just like him when I get older."
Mulad couldn't help but crack a smile as warmth enveloped his heart.
Another of the boys laughed and said to the oldest boy, "You'll never be as cool as Mulad!"
The older boy yelled back while lifting up his fist, "what was that?"
Mulad laughing giddily spoke, "Alright, Alright! Settle down you two. I have something I want to show you boys."
Like a light switch, they redirected all of their attention back to Mulad.
Mulad spitting out the soul stone into his hand, held it out for the kids to look at. Which was reciprocated by the kids' wide-eyed amazement.
"AAAAAAAW—", the kids sounded out in unison.
Mulad spoke with a smile.
"This a soul stone. Tomorrow I'm going to sell for 40 coppers. But don't tell anyone that I have it. It's a secret."
The boys nodded with floored jaws. They were excited by this secret information. It made them feel special.
Mulad lifted the soul stone and replaced it back into his mouth. Pushing it into his cheek with his tongue, he then spoke.
"Alright, now go to sleep."
One of the boys called out, "Okay!"
They all ran back over to the fire and crawled underneath each of their respective tents.
Backing up against a sand wall, Mulad sat down. Closing his eyes, he slowly slouched over onto his side, getting some much-needed rest.
***
Awakened by the sound of footsteps, Mulad opened his eyes.
6 men wielding scimitars and holding torches slowly crept forward in a huddled group. They were walking around inspecting all the people as they slept; as if they were for searching for someone specific.
Mulad slowly slid his dagger from its scabbard as to not make any noise. Then holding it close to his chest, he closed one eye and feigned sleeping.
A man wearing a red bulbous turban whispered, "spread out and search for the boy. Remember, he doesn't have an arm. Look for the boy without an arm."
As the crowd of men dispersed they individually began searching separate tents. It would only be a matter of time before one of the men came over to inspect Mulad.
Slowly and quietly kneeling down to examine Mulad, he concernedly sounded out, "Hmmmmm?"
Snuffing out his torch, he then cautiously placed it on the sandy ground. He began slowly peeling back the fabric that concealed his armlessness. Mulad opened up his eyes, flipping up the fabric. Fiercely striking out, he stabbed right into the man's gut.
The man gasped loudly, grabbing the attention of the other men. They turned around to see the man fall onto his knees. Before him stood Mulad pushing the impaled man backward off of his dagger with his foot.
"Get him!", The red turbaned man yelled out, waking the sleeping kids and the other beggars.
Winding back his arm, Mulad threw the blade with all the force he could muster.
Flying straight without spinning, the dagger pierced straight into the forehead of one of the other men. His corpse fell to the floor, as the other men stopped in their tracks to witness the falling of their comrade.
Reaching down to the floor, Mulad picked up the scimitar of the dead man next to him.
"Shit, Shit, Shit! Kill him! Kill him now!", the red turbaned man shouted out edgily.
The boys started screaming in fear while scrambling from out of their respective tents.
Mulad gripping the scimitar, contemplated whether to stay and fight or run. Coming to his conclusion he turned to his left and bolted into the dark alleyway.
From behind he could hear the red turbaned man yell out, "Quick! Chase after him!"
Mulad rounded a corner and then another and ran into the nightly shroud of darkness, with the men in close pursuit.