Name: Cain Miller

Title: Blind Man's Avarice

Class: None

Strength: 20

Endurance: 23

Vitality: 15

Dexterity: 17

Intelligence: 11

Wisdom: 19

Perception: 5

Skills:

[Chop (2)] - passive

[Enhanced Sense (1)] - passive

The streets were distastefully loud, even with the sun lower in the sky. I followed Ilya along the roads as we made our way to the Rigged Tavern. He seemed to know where he was going, confidently weaving through people.

I rolled my healed shoulder, stretching the tight muscle. It was hard to believe that just yesterday it had been mangled practically beyond repair. It hammered in the fact that I was no longer on earth, and this planet's laws were completely different. It had been easy for me to push it aside since I had no visuals. However, that trick was no longer working.

Now that I was no longer on the brink of death, I could fully appreciate a skill like [Enhanced Sense]. What the priest had helped kick start that night had now steamrolled into a lieu of sensations and awareness. Along with five perception, the skill left me feeling like the world was no longer entirely dark, with nothing beyond an arm's reach from me. The path Ilya and I walked was clear, moving people and immobile objects unhidden from my senses. My ability to understand the world had improved, everything interconnected to my feet that fell upon the ground with each step.

Ilya turned and walked into a building, pushing the door open to release noise that was even worse than what was outside. I couldn’t deny that my new skill was extremely helpful, but it was too intense in loud places and when I get injured. Everything was amplified, and I wished I could turn it down at will. I wondered if I would ever get used to it, or if it would always be an unfamiliar sensation running under my skin.

The building we entered opened into an expansive room, where people crowded and moved around tables. Ilya stopped near the door, me beside him, and scanned the room for Keith’s supposed friend. He seemed to know who to look for, as not long after he took off again, his small frame easily maneuvering through the controlled chaos.

Instead of following him, I made my way around the room, keeping close to the walls. This matter didn't concern me, so I wouldn't involve myself. Even if Keith's request was suspicious, I had no reason to interfere.

Ilya had stopped next to a man in the corner, who didn’t engage in conversation when Ilya tried to speak to him. I heard Ilya mention he was sent by Keith, which garnered a small reaction. I had stopped about a dozen feet away, relaxing against the wooden wall.

Hearing Ilya repeating the phrase Keith had told him, I listened for the expected response. The man delivered, and Ilya handed over an envelope. That seemed to conclude any business, and the mysterious man swiftly left the tavern. Ilya made his way back to me, and we exited as well. I breathed a sigh of relief after we made it out into the cool night air, where things were calmer. The breeze pleasantly ran along my overheated skin.

“Since that’s taken care of, I wanted to stop and visit my mom and sister,” Ilya told me. “We can probably stay the night there and save some money if you’re okay with it.”

“That sounds good,” I responded. We walked through the slowly quieting streets, and as we went on, the houses grew progressively smaller as I sensed the street becoming narrower. Ilya stayed quiet, and he started to try and muffle his footsteps, nervous energy surrounding him. I followed his example, testing my own ability to sneak. It was easier than I thought, my perception and senses giving me the means to discern where to step and how to place my foot. It was a process, but I gradually got to the point where I could not hear my steps even with [Enhanced Sense].

Ilya suddenly sped up, bolting to a small house and quietly knocking on the door. A woman's muffled voice called through the door, asking who it was.

“It’s me, mom,” Ilya whispered back. “It’s Ilya!” Locks were turned, then the door was quickly swung open.

“Oh, Ilya!” He was pulled into a tight embrace, clearly missed. “What are you doing here? Did you run away?” she asked desperately.

“No, mom. We’re here on orders.” She finally noticed me, inhaling in shock and pulling Ilya behind her. “Don’t worry,” he assured, “he’s a friend.” She slowly relaxed, wearily letting me in before shutting the door tight.

“What are you doing here?” Ilya’s mother asked. A little girl, probably around four years old, ran up to Ilya. He kneeled to hug her, answering.

“We were attacked by a beast at our camp. Carter,” he gestured to me, “fought it off but was injured in the process.” He continued to tell the story, painting me as a hero who had saved his life. I almost laughed as he exaggerated my ‘heroics’, clearly enjoying his mother’s gasps and exclamations in response.

After eating a quick meal, we laid down to sleep. We had to meet the cart driver in the morning to head back to camp, and Ilya didn’t want to be late. However, he was up for longer than me, talking with his family while I tried to tune them out.

I woke to the start of movement in the streets, and I shook Ilya awake as well. Getting ready to leave, Ilya took his time saying goodbye to his family at the door. He was reluctant, and I knew it was hard for him because he hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place. As he opened the door, Ilya’s mother came out with him to see us off. However, when we exited, guards had gathered on the streets, coming to attention when we appeared. Ilya’s mother pushed her daughter inside and closed the door, before coming up behind Ilya and placing her hands on his shoulders.

“H-how can I help you?” she shakily asked.

One man stepped forward, air displacing as he moved his hand to the sword at his side. It made me instinctively place my own on my axe that was tied to my belt. He ignored the woman, speaking instead to Ilya. “Ilya Skellfeather, you have been seen colluding with spies of the rebellion and handing over Federation secrets. Two men escaped with an envelope that was first in your possession last night, one a well-known member of the Gothsend Alliance.” I could hear the sneer in his voice as he spat out the name. The information startled me, and I wondered how I had not figured it out.

He grabbed Ilya’s arm, intending to drag him away. “You have been labeled a traitor to the Federation, and your punishment is execution.” Ilya loudly protested, crying out as he pulled against the unforgiving hand. His mother seemed to stand in shock, all motions halted.

Then, she moved.

Lunging for the man, she tried to push him away as she screeched for Ilya to run. Despite her efforts, the man was only slightly startled and kept his hand holding tight to Ilya. He seemed completely unbothered; his figure was like an unmoving mountain, fascinating me. With lazy strength, he tugged his sword from its scabbard, easily plunging it into the woman’s stomach, piercing through her spine and splattering blood over the cobblestone. Ilya had stopped moving from shock, his arms limp.

“Your crime is obstruction of justice,” the soldier said, pulling his sword free and allowing the body to fall heavily to the hard ground. Ilya’s legs collapsed, the man releasing him and allowing him to fall as well.

He hunched over, hands scraping along to stone he screamed. His wretched howl should not have been possible; such a tiny body releasing such a noise was unimaginable. Ilya’s screams traveled through the streets, bouncing from building to building and causing everyone to fall silent.

The guard sighed, impatient. “Get up,” he commanded, kicking at Ilya’s side. He still did not move, even at the loud smack against his skin.

“Fine. We’ll proceed here. I’m tired of waiting.” He flicked his blade, blood sliding off to land like rain on the ground. I found the motion pointless, as it was just going to become dirty once again. Ilya finally moved, lunging for the guard like his mother had, and the sword came to meet him. It sliced through the air, indolently displacing anything in its way. It met Ilya’s neck, easily severing skin, muscle, and bone until his separated head fell and began to roll. Ilya’s body toppled, a quiet thud against the stone ground.

There was a pause in the world, as everyone seemed to stop to behold the carnage. The brighter night had led to a dark day, with only blood and death to greet it. Movement on the street quickly resumed, the guard sliding his weapon back into its sheath. He shouted orders for someone to clean up the mess, and by then I was already in an alley, walking away from the chaos.

My one source of information was now gone, and I had no need to stay here any longer. More importantly, I didn’t want to be noticed by the guards and attached to any criminal activity. I was unsure if any had seen me with Ilya, and I did not want to meet the same fate as him.

I had to quickly meet the cart at the gate, lest it left me behind in an unfamiliar city. I weaved through the streets, stopping and asking for directions when necessary. The sun had not yet begun to rise over the buildings, only streams of heat making their way through the gaps to hit the cold ground. Making my way out of the eastern gate, the sun finally hit me in full force. I sensed the cart waiting to the side, the driver pacing impatiently.

“There you are! I’ve been waiting since dawn. Now we won’t make it well into the nightfall.” He looked behind me, searching for the missing person. “Where is the boy?”

“He won’t be able to join us,” I told him, not wanting to elaborate.

“Hm? Well, whatever. If that’s the case, it’s his loss. Let’s get going.”

I sat next to him on the front bench, the back full of goods. As I was no longer injured, I could sit up just fine. The horses took off at their masters' urging, and we began a steady gait away from the city of death.

It seemed Keith was not who he was pretending to be. I understood his reasoning for passing off a dangerous task to another, but I was angry that I had almost been caught in the crossfire as well. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do anything about him, as I didn’t want to get tangled in his clandestine machinations.

I would take things as they came, and only make sure Keith was aware that I knew. I was unsure what his plans were, and I couldn’t make any of my own due to my lack of information. Would it be good to take a side in this war? I had yet to see any direct action, but I had been told it was in the west, the battle waging on the empty ground between the Federation’s capital and the three cities.

If I was forced to choose, I would want to know who had the best chance of winning. Rebellions usually never bore fruit, so my preference would lean towards the Federation. However, I did not know what resources the Alliance had, so I couldn’t disregard them yet. My own personal gains and benefits were of highest importance to me, but in the grand scheme of things, I was but a small weakling and it was doubtful I would have much say.

As I knew Keith’s secret, I did have some leverage in that direction. I could use that information to help myself on either side. There was the additional option of not choosing, and leaving through the forest into the unknown land. That idea did not appeal much to me yet, as I wasn’t positive I could be self-sufficient in this world. Especially with my recent encounter with the lynx. There were most likely even worse beasts in the forest, and I knew I would not stand a chance.

These thoughts consumed me through the ride, a sense of urgency driving me forward. I had no idea what was in that envelope given to the Alliance and was unsure if the information would help bring the war to a head. It could be a changing point, and making a choice could be of utmost importance. It could also be minimal, but being prepared could never hurt.

The rhythmic clomping of the horses was a constant, and the air grew clear and comfortable as we moved away from the city. We rested once to eat and give the horses a break, then we were off again. The driver’s estimations were correct, as by the time the sun had set, we were still on the road. I had asked him why we didn’t stop and make camp for the night, as the horses could stumble and fall in the dark.

“It’s more dangerous to stay in one place than to keep moving,” he told me. “I’ve been traveling this road for years, my class [Coachman] proof of that. Bandits and monsters look for those stopped and lagging in the night, stealing and killing. It’s always best to keep moving.”

I acquiesced, listening for these supposed dangers. There was constant rustling in the grass surrounding us, rocks scraping and sticks cracking. My heart thudded from the hidden enemies, always lurking. They were far enough away to stay out of earshot from the coachman and the horses, but I was aware, trepidation digging into my skull.

They never came close, and we made it to the camp unmolested. I went my separate way from the driver after thanking him, then moved towards my tent.

The familiar surroundings and quiet were a great improvement from the city. I reveled in the silence, and it welcomed me with joy.