THE FAIR LASS, VIALCA was a young maiden he had known from a young age. As a child, he'd lost his parents to the highwaymen. The brigands had raped his poor mother before taking her life, along with his father's and what little coin they'd had in their purses. He had only survived because he was small enough to fit into his mother's traveling iron box.
From the tiny peephole of it, he had watched as the bandits lay waste to their carriage. He was barely five summers when it happened and till this day, he didn't know where they had being heading on the day of the incident. He didn't know where they came from either.
All he remembered now was that he had wandered many days in the plains before an elderly farmer had found him broken and hungry by the wayside. He had bravely survived a fortnight of wandering, feeding on nothing but the crawling bugs his tiny hands could fetch.
