They left the inn at dawn break. Osmond saw people leaving in wagons, carts and horses.
Connor went to hire a wagon. Osmond only saw gestures and exchanges but did not hear the conversation.
He looked around and saw houses; people were either leaving them or empty. Soon there will be none left here, he thought.
In front of him came a horse wagon drawn by a chestnut mare. The mare snorted and hoofed as it came to a halt. The wagon was not luxurious. Its top was covered by a cream-coloured cloth, torn pieces stitched back into it. The carriage itself was wooden with dirt dried into its sides.
The coachman sitting atop the perch was a stout old man. His hairline receding and yet it was jet black. His skin was chocolaty brown.
"We will be travelling by wagons till we reach the first town," Connor said as he came towards Osmond.
"What about your horse?" Osmond asked.
"Overloading a horse will only spell disaster so I sold him," Connor replied.
"That was cruel," he said.
Connor didn't care to reply to that
"Now climb," Connor demanded.
The wagon was tall for Osmond and he struggled to climb aboard. He looked back at Connor and knew that he was not going to help. He used every bit of his strength to climb. He gasped for air afterwards.
Connor threw his bag inside and climbed after. Osmond was sitting on the floor, his legs crisscrossed as there was nothing to sit on. Connor sat with his back to the wall. His one leg was straight and the other folded. He hated travelling like this and his face showed that.
"Ye folks comfortable?" The coachman shouted.
"Move," Connor shouted back.
The wagon moved only a few steps and came to a halt. The coachman lifted the curtain and looked back. "Eh.... Sir...." The coachman muttered.
A woman came behind the coach, a babe in her arms. Osmond had seen the fair-skinned that were his family and he have also seen the brown skin that was the villagers. He hadn't seen anything like her.
What struck him most was her ears. Ears like that of the wolf his father once hunted. Furry, grey and sharp. They twitched left and right. Her grey tail moved below her cheap long-sleeved dress. Her eyes were narrow and golden. Chains shackled to her ringing as she moved.
"A Demi," Connor said clicking his tongue.
"Please masters, take my baby at least," The woman pleaded.
The baby squirmed in her arms, her tail wagging.
"I already have a runt. I am not looking for more," Connor said his hands waving away.
"Please masters, at least my baby. My masters left me saying I will be a burden. We will die when they come. I will do anything. Please," Tears rolled down her eyes.
Osmond looked at them and saw his mother and himself. His mother was dead but he saw the same love emanating from them. He wanted to help but didn't know how. He looked at Connor.
"What is it, boy?" Connor's voice was cold.
"Can't we help them?" Osmond pleaded for them.
"She is a Demi and a slave at that. Her masters left her here and I see no reason in saving them," Connor looked away.
Osmond knew about Demihumans from his mother. They were descendent of prima who lived in deep forests and formed tribes. But Osmond saw no reason in abandoning her for being a Demi.
"She is a mother. Is that reason not enough?" Osmond shouted.
"And who is going to pay for them, you?" Connor countered.
Osmond bit his lips. He didn't know much about money but he knew one thing. Some things are worth more than money. He gathered his courage and stared at Connor's eyes. "I will pay you back," Osmond said.
"And who is going to pay for you?" Connor's eyes glared.
"I will pay back that too," Osmond said, his eyes fixed on Connor's.
"You owe me an awful lot boy."
"I will pay back them all."
Connor looked at Osmond's face. He recognised that. The face Viktor had when he last saw him. The unwavering face.
"You, woman. Say your name," Connor shouted.
"Kira," Her voice trembled.
"Woman, you will be bound as a slave for the ward family when we reach Pemphredo."
Kira's eyes widened. A sense of relief flowed through her body.
"Thank you," She fell to her knees and hugged her baby.
"And you boy. You are to pay back for her and yourself. Hunt, quest. Whatever it takes," Connor said at Osmond coldly.
It was the first time that Osmond undertook a real responsibility.
Kira and her babe sat at the back of the wagon with the other two in front. Osmond was tired and hence fell into a slumber.
In his dream, he saw the same nightmare. He jerked, awake and sweating.
He looked around and found the baby tugging his sleeves. She cooed and giggled. She had crawled away from Kira when she fell asleep.
Kira woke hearing the sound and saw what her child was doing. Shocked, she pulled her to her chest.
"Please don't throw us away," Kira said frightened.
Osmond felt sorry for her. He wondered why she was always afraid.
"How old is she?" Osmond asked.
"Two, master," Kira replied hugging her baby tight.
Osmond felt weird being called a master. But what shocked him was the baby's age. She looked like she was four.
"Demihumans mature faster. Don't cause a racket every time you sleep," Connor was awake now.
Osmond didn't know that.
The wagon rolled and went forward. Osmond couldn't sleep nightmares and the silence brought back demons to him.
"Who are the Caladrians and Centurians?" He asked Connor.
Connor looked at him. His eyes narrow.
"The Caladrians and Centurians are two of the high castes of Pemphredo," He replied.
"Then what is the path of the Centurians?" he wanted to keep the talk moving.
"To follow and withhold the teachings of Detruass to Centurians."
"And what is that.?"
"Didn't you learn anything before boy," Connor smirked at him.
Suddenly the wagon came to a halt.
"Eh... Sir. There is a problem," The coachman called in.
"What is it?" Connor moved the front curtain and looked outside. There, he saw five bandits blocking the road.
"You will have an early demonstration in Zest and Crux," Connor grinned at Osmond.
He jumped off the wagon with Osmond behind. Kira stayed behind hugging her baby.
"Stay behind and watch boy," Connor said.
Connor went towards the bandits.
"Yer stupid if ya think you can take five of us,"
The one in the middle snickered.
"Oh, you don't have to worry about me. Come On anytime," Connor took his stance; with his fist facing forward and his right foot in front.
The bandits wore leather Armor over their shirts and trousers. The one in the middle had an unruly long sword. The first one had a mace, the second a dagger, the fourth a short sword and the fifth a bow.
Connor cracked his neck. He drew his breath, his focus increased, his muscles flexed, and his eyes caught the subtle movements of the bandits.
He found the first one was having a weak knee, the middle one had a lung problem and the fourth one was a green stick. He saw the Ranger squinting and knew he was not a good Ranger.
The man with the mace came charging, Connor dodged it and stomped on the weak knee and broke it into two; the bone pierced the trousers; the man screamed and fell. The man with the long sword attacked with a downwards slash. Connor sidestepped and crushed his lungs with his fist, he fell face down and spat blood. The green stick came slashing his sword, frightened. Connor caught his arm and broke it into two. The bowman nooked his bow and shot, but Connor caught the arrow in the boy's head. He threw the body towards the man with the dagger. He tried to dodge it but his head met with Connor's fist. Eyes bulged out, bones cracked and the head turned to a pulp.
The ranger was the only man left. Frightened, he shot an arrow, Connor dodged and caught it in his hands. He dashed forward and pierced his eye with it.
Connor went back to the man with the crushed lung.
"What was it you said of me being stupid?" Connor said condescendingly.
Connor slammed his fist into the man's head and killed him