“There you are: some meat, fresh fruit, and something sweet to drink,” Gareth said as he set a woven basket on the small table.

It was always a hard-fought battle to convince the others to give up some of their food, although his reputation and flawless track record when it came to curing the ill had always been enough to sway the minds of the Trudid-people, and this year was no different. It had taken him well over twenty minutes of harsh bickering to get the villagers to give in and pack what could only be seen as a meagre amount of celebratory food, at least compared to the feast everyone but Alleyn would participate in.

It had, however, been much easier today than it had been earlier; he still dourly remembered how he had to threaten the obstinate villagers with moving away just to get them to hand him something to share with Alleyn back when the boy first got ‘diagnosed’. Gareth didn’t for a moment believe the boy to be cursed but, since he wasn’t sick either, he had to come up with some other explanation since, with the way the uneducated behaved in this Realm, he was concerned about what they would do if there was nothing to explain Alleyn’s muteness.

Alleyn’s living conditions had been less than human ten years ago, but Gareth had slowly managed to change that, largely due to Alleyn becoming more of an after-thought as the years went by. It had even gotten to a point where he could spend upwards of half an hour with the boy without anyone asking questions, an opportunity Gareth had used to make sure that Alleyn’s mental health never took ‘too much’ damage, all while teaching Alleyn the basics of Herbalism; he was hopeful that he could prepare Alleyn for moving away from Trudid and towards one of the larger cities in the coming years. He was a strong-willed and clever boy, soaking up knowledge like a sponge and, despite the circumstances, had always managed a genuine smile, so he had little concern that he wouldn’t be able to handle himself in the future, even with his condition. Something he wouldn’t teach him, however, was how to read and write due to the sad fact that it could bring Alleyn even more problems; it was only those on the highest seats of power that had the ability to read, so people could start asking unnecessary questions or, even worse, kidnap him in the hopes of ransoming him to a Noble family that simply didn’t exist.

Gareth had, on numerous occasions, considered adopting Alleyn, and he would have done it if not for the fear that, while the people of Trudid did largely ignore Alleyn’s existence at this point, it would spark uncontrollable outrage, should the existence of Alleyn be brought to the forefront of everyone’s mind. So, instead, it would be better for the boy if things continued as they had for the last decade, as he did his best to give Alleyn the tools necessary to make a life for himself elsewhere…

“Ah, sorry, I just got lost in my own thoughts,” Gareth said as he noticed the concerned look Alleyn gave him. “Well, I should get going; I still have a few things to prepare before the celebrations begin. Will you be alright?” he asked as he sent a worried look of his own towards Alleyn; while the boy did feel more alive than he had for the last couple of years, the sudden spark of ambition in his eyes did perturb Gareth a slight bit. He had a feeling that something was about to happen, although he had no idea what that something might be. The reassuring smile that Alleyn gave in response to his question did manage to ease his guilty conscience somewhat, even if he did find the smile on Alleyn’s lips to be slightly forced...

***

It had been a couple of hours since Gareth left, and the celebrations of the Spring Festival were well underway; the sound of laughter and shouting were accompanied by the steady beating of drums and flute music while, above the low rooftops, Alleyn could see the tell-tale signs of a roaring fire lighting up the night sky.

Now would be the best time to go about completing his quest to break into the Overseer’s house and steal the pendant since, rather than when the festival was about to die down and people would return home, Powell’s house was likely to be empty… He hoped; if by some off chance Powell turned out to be at home rather than celebrating with the rest, then today could very well be his last day in Trudid. If Gareth’s description about Powell being very sociable were to be trusted, however, Alleyn believed his chances to be heavily weighted in his favour.

[I recommend that you get going,] the monotone voice said, breaking Alleyn out of his thoughts, [Every second you delay will increase the odds that the Overseer will return home.]

The voice was right, and Alleyn knew he was simply stalling, redirecting his thoughts to keep the creeping fear that something would go wrong at bay. Opening the door, he looked out at the front yard; it was well lit, allowing him to see the overgrown weeds and grass, only broken up by a thin path of downtrodden grass that lead to the dilapidated fence gate. While Alleyn was fully capable of cleaning the inside of his house, this would be the first time he would leave in ten years, resulting in the outside of the small building accumulating a decade worth of decay. Someday, he would finally manage to clean it all, or even build an entirely new house for himself.

He was stalling again, he realised. Alleyn saw his yard just about every day and yet, now that he was finally about to step into it, it suddenly felt foreign. But there was no way around what he had to do unless he decided to give up. So, with a deep breath, Alleyn stepped onto the trail and breathed a sigh of relief. Closing the door behind him he walked towards the gate; there was no point in locking it since no one would come by anyway, not to mention that it could get him into trouble if he was caught outside as he struggled to get the door unlocked.

Beyond the gate, Alleyn stepped onto the more well-travelled path of compacted dirt and winced. A sharp rock had managed to cut the sole of his right foot through his shoe, one that was made of very thin leather, yet another of the ‘benefits’ he enjoyed: free clothes. All the clothes he had were, obviously, of worse make than what Gareth wore, but he, presumably along with all the other villagers, had to contribute to the village in order to get clothes; so, with Alleyn not having contributed anything the villagers knew of, it was natural that they would be unwilling to make good clothes for free. Even then, and despite knowing that the majority of what he owned was second-hand, it all contributed to his earlier self-loathing; now, it reaffirmed his resolve to do something meaningful to repay the people of Trudid.

Now, stepping gingerly, both as to not get a repeat of what had just happened as well as to not step on the wound, Alleyn crouched down and made his way towards the back of his house; his plan was to move along the outskirts of the village, away from the fire blazing in the centre square in order to avoid the other villagers, before making his way back inwards once he had made it to the other end of the village. He didn’t know exactly what Powell’s house was located, but it was supposed to be the best one in Trudid, yet another thing Gareth had complained about to no end.

A sudden change in lighting brought Alleyn back to reality; he stood completely still, crouched down low to the ground, paralyzed. The change was caused by a shadow, likely from one of the Trudid people. The thought of being caught outside and the consequences that would follow made his heart race; he couldn’t hear it, but felt as if it was about to break out of his ribcage. It wasn’t until he found himself out of breath that he finally managed to calm himself enough to look around, heaving for breath. Complete silence did have some benefits he thought with mixed emotion; it was the first time ever that Alleyn was actually thankful for whatever ailed him.

Looking around, Alleyn saw several stretched shadows dance across the ground, all originating from people dancing merrily around the fire. It was quite envious, the almost tangible feelings of hope and happiness radiating off of them; to think that they could behave in such a way, all while they had forced him to live the last ten years alone. Every year, they would feel this way, not even a shred of guilt present to taint the festive atmosphere. No, Gareth felt guilty, Alleyn was sure of that; at times, it even felt emotionally crushing to stand next to the man, resulting in Alleyn having been overwhelmed on a few occasions. He really should do something to repay the old man… That was weird; he hadn’t ever resented the Trudid people for their actions and, despite now knowing that he had the [Heightened Empathy] Skill, he had always required physical contact to actually intuit their feelings. And now when he looked at the dancing group of people, he felt nothing of what he did previously...

It didn’t take him more than twenty minutes to find Powell’s house, and it was surprisingly easy, especially since it was the only house in the village that had a second storey. Not only that, rather than having been made of rocks and clay, as was customary in Trudid, this house was built with fired bricks painted white, supported by wooden beams; even the windows were ornate. All-in-all, the two-storey house seemed terribly misplaced as it towered above the other houses in the village.

Now that he had found it, all he had to do was sneak inside, find the Traveller’s Pendant, and get out without being seen, all things that could prove to be monstrously difficult; all entrances could be locked forcing him to break one of the windows, he didn’t actually know what the Pendant looked like, and, perhaps the worst possible outcome, Powell could return at any moment. If he wasn’t home already. Alleyn shook his head vigorously as he set his sights on the house once more; the windows were dark, reflecting the full moon and the light of the blazing fire, so he was hopeful that Powell was out, allowing him to go about completing his Quest unnoticed…