"Don't let the heretic escape!"
Sprinting down hard stone, I duck as two arrows fly overhead.
*Fwip!* *Fwip!*
That was a close one, however, it was the least of my problems. Overhead, a troop of elves rains spells and arrows down on us. Yes, us.
I have my two companions, Lily and Savage running with me. Lily's the white bird and Savage is the hulking, full plated pincushion running ahead of me. We're a motley bunch but I can assure you we're the bestest of buds.
Sprinting from our pursuers, I feel a faint tingle, as I sense something dangerous happening behind us. It's a spell and quite a large one at that. Sigh, this might be the end of the road for us.
However, before I start preaching our last rites, Savage activates a magical artifact triggering a white flash, stunning our pursuers and causing some to lose their footing on the high buildings.
"Where'd they go?!"
"Quick, find them!"
I heave a sigh of relief at that narrow escape. As our pursuers frantically look for us, we hide out in a run down orphanage, whereupon Savage starts to pluck the numerous arrows out of himself.
"Jeff, are you retarded, or retarded?" He questions me as soon as he seats himself.
What an awful way to speak to a friend, especially someone so benign and gentle such as myself.
"How about yesn't?"
"What were you thinking!?" He ignores my previous response.
Key point, I wasn't thinking.
"Why would you do that?!" He presses.
Wait a second. How come you're asking all the questions? My turn!
"How come you're not dead?" Or bleeding for that matter, the man has about thirty arrows in him.
Lily also chirps in agreement, backing me up.
"I'm already dead," What a way to dodge the question, I'm impressed. "Anyway, answer my question!" Savage's eyes light up in a blue blaze as he looks like he's about to strangle someone. So I quickly get my cranium whirring as cold sweat forms down my back. Seriously, this guy's pressure is intense!
Hm, thinking back to the day's events, I start pondering in silence under a searing gaze.
My name is Jeffrey, no last name though, I'm not anyone of note to have such an honour.
I lived on some frontier village out in the sticks before eventually moving to the city when my village was burnt down. Upon arrival at the city, I was hired as a city guard here. Nothing special about me, just you're average guard, doing guard things, and well, guarding places. As a guard does.
Though, the other guards always stayed away from me, ostracised me. Always keeping their distance. But it was fine, I didn't mind their behaviour.
Having today off, I decided to hang out with a good pal of mine, Savage, he calls himself, quite a peculiar name. And well, mercenaries and adventurers tend to have their secrets so I didn't pry. Sitting around in the city square, we loiter around browsing street vendors every now and then.
"Oh, well ain't that rare," Savage commented looking at a transaction happening in the plaza. That in itself wasn't all that rare, nor were the contents of the trade anything special, however, it was the customer that caught his eye.
Looking over, I immediately felt something off about her. She looked human with golden hair and a simple dress, however, there was another addition that made her facade fall apart. Fox ears. More specifically, the individual in question had a set of fox like features, with fox ears on her head, and a furry tail to boot. A demi human. — A rare sight in the human predominant Astra Kingdom. —
Something that I allegedly don't take kindly to.
Considering that I supposedly called her an 'abomination' before brutally murdering her in broad daylight. The absurdity of that claim was outrageous!
What was even more outrageous was when my fellow guardsmen sold me out! Even going so far as to claim I'm a cultist and a heretic!
Sigh.
The path of life truly is mysterious, isn't it? Hey, at least I still got my bird and Savage. Like a true friend, Savage stayed with me even when everyone tossed me by the wayside.
"I won't be your friend in a minute if you don't explain yourself," He states, the blue blaze burning brighter beneath his visored helmet.
"Aright, alright," I stutter, "I'm not sure what happened, I don't remember much but I just lost control of myself, like everything was tellin' me it needed to die. However, I don't see why they had to malign me like that,"
"I think you forgot that you just butchered a person. In the middle of the city plaza as well," Savage reminded calmly.
Ah shite. That was true. Does that mean I'm the bad guy? Oh damn, now I'm doubting my conscience. But really now, was that a reason to start calling me a Heretic? That seemed a bit extreme.
"Well, Jeff, because you are severely affected with the stupids, you committed a hate crime in broad daylight, wearing a dark apparel whilst also shouting 'abomination.' It's just a bit, a tad bit reminiscent of what cultists do, and now, as a result of your rather clever actions, we're being hunted down by both the city and the elves," His voice echoes beneath his full helm.
Rude, that was beyond my control, and I can't tell whether he was being sarcastic or serious, maybe a mix of both. But he still raises a good point.
I'm being hunted, but that makes sense since I committed a murder. A felon. What doesn't make sense are the elves. Last I heard, tensions were high between the elves and Kingdom, so why aid the Kingdom in capturing me?
However, it brings me to another point I missed, heretics. They didn't just call me a cultist, they called me a heretic. An enemy of the world.
Right now, we're in Joost, a city under the banner of the Astra Kingdom, located within the Corrupt Realm, the second most amongst the three realms, easy enough to understand, right? Good. Because this next part is about fallen races, and they're… complicated.
Not much was known about them, other than the fact that they were supposedly long gone, nothing more than relics of bygone eras. The only records of their existence were ruins with ancient documentations that detailed their plight alongside the wreckage of their once fearsome fortresses, having long lost their majesty over the years.
Long ago, thousands upon thousands of years ago, a group of immemorial races in their hubris, united and rebelled against the gods, falling from their grace. Becoming the well known Heretic races or fallen races. Many proxy races were killed off as a result, with little relics or records of their existence.
Although the fallen races were inevitably subjugated through the combined might of the gods and their allies, they still did their number on this battered realm. In the end, as expected, the fallen races lost with most of them extinct, branded heretics by all throughout the realm as the destruction they caused still shows its marks even today.
All this was basic history really. Something that all in the realm were taught about.
Anyway, their collaborators or rather sympathisers from the various other races were similarly branded heretics.
And I for some reason was dubbed one of these such traitors. And this falsehood was so convincing that even the elves felt the need to come out of the woodwork to take potshots at me.
Does everyone really hate me that much?