There are a couple of things I should mention that I haven't done before. Things between Osiris and I have been super close and I have forgotten to mention why that is. At our core, both he and I are able to understand the value of working hard to achieve goals and make lives for ourselves. Osiris told me one night that he'd like to own his own mansion next to a lake. Built from the ground up by his own hands when he is older. Which in my mind seems like a decent dream to have. Grow old in a place you made from scratch, get married, and have a family. Yet, we haven't even gotten close to being able to sit down and think of starting dreams such as those. Not just Osiris, but me as well. If someone were to ask me what my dreams were, I wouldn't be able to answer them wholeheartedly. This is disappointing to some, but for me it makes sense. I just don't know what I truly desire and I'm already twenty years old.

The way Osiris and I met was an interesting story and I figured I would share it to show you just how interesting and crafty this kid can be when he is purely in survival mode. Just south of Gristmill, I was on a trail, my leg cut wide open after being attacked by a pack of wild wolves and I knew there was a town that was close in order to rest and find a way to stitch up the wound. I was on the run, and I had knight guards on my trail. Tracking me for over 2 days. In that allotted amount of time, I was crossing creeks and climbing trees. Killing animals and covering my body in their guts so their bloodhounds couldn't trace my scent. The only reason they could keep up was because of a Levanant they had in the ground that was proficient in tracking and could reveal footsteps of anyone that they had an object they possessed. that object being a hat I bought. Like a dumbass, I dropped the hat that night that they caught me stealing from the tavern called Yeti Yacks. It's about 3 days out from Gristmill and is located in the center of a village called Dristan. The weeks before I had been constantly traveling south. No particular place for a thief can be called home. Hence, staying on the move was necessary.

I was able to find some Kirkwood fibers after I almost got caught while sleeping in a cave one night, which helped clot most of the bleeding that my leg went through. The pain, on the other hand, excruciating. The trail was getting wider notifying me that Dristan was getting close and it was mid-day, I veered off the trail just in case any other Knight Guards were having a peaceful midday stroll and came across a fool with a bounty on his head. A.K.A me, there was a 20 silver leaf bounty on my head for the next three villages over and I couldn't take any chances being recognized by anyone for that matter. My plan before I made it into Dristan at the time was to get off the road after it became wider and hide in the shrubbery and foliage as long as possible until I came close enough to the gates. From there I was going to blend in as much as I could with any group of townsfolk I could meander along with. Even if it meant I had to pretend to be a farmer as long as I could find a pharmaceuticals and potions outlet in order to steal from to heal my wounds.

I had to limp, and everyone I saw in town I told my leg was a gimp. Getting through the large stone gate wasn't a feasible task. There was a family of five that was drawn by horses and buggies that enabled me to gain access through the main street of Dristan. I don't plan on things like this, but good this comes to those who are patient. From my perspective, the family seemed to be taking refuge in the town. Most likely a new opportunity had come forth for the family job-wise to move into Dristan. Or they were taking refuge from something that I was not aware of at that point in time. Either way, they were not as excited as a family who was on the move to a new location should've been. My internal guess would've been the latter. Regardless, I was able to join the traveling group inconspicuously. It took me over four hours to find this family to hop in the back of their carriage in order to sneak into the village.

Dristan is similar to Gristmill, the main difference is the economic outputs. Gristmill mainly is a supplier of lumber and plant herbs to other villages in the surrounding vicinity. Dristan is a cultivating community, exporting nothing but food and services. The variety of services can be very thorough. There is an abundance of families who grow their own crops. large landowners who pay their own peoples to do their bidding and grow crops. Slaves aren't apparent, though sustenance farming runs rampant throughout the hills of Dristan. Like it or not, that is the reality of the people who live here. Prostitution is also an eye opener for the men who run through this small village. Knight Guards get royalties from the capital of the country and spend their earnings very, " wisely. " Guards can spend their earnings however they please. Some end up living in lavish lifestyles while the ones who think they understand the world spend money on quick fixes of women, booze, and fun. Those men are the worst type, but I respect them for having fun. We all die eventually right?

Getting caught was something that was not on my to-do list for the day. Getting on the backside of the third buggy that the family had provided an enormous amount of security in my mind. If the first buggy was discovered for ransom or some other problem. The group would've been told to either leave or immediately taken for inspection or even prosecution for smuggling. If the first two were fine, I was also fine. Through that experience, I was able to make it through the city gates. Heart pounding incredulously. Limping or not, a family looking at the sights and going through security was a fast pass into security for my own survival against the Levanant who was hot on my trail.

While in the carriage I smelled something off, I couldn't understand what it was. Though it was my downfall. The family of five may have been seeking refuge, but they were carrying illegal substances within their buggy. There are a few illegal substances found within the country of Ivandria. This one happened to be Feral. Feral is a substance that is grown in the countryside of Ivandria. and is not considered a recreational substance. It is controlled and hated by the royal families across the country. Feral, is not known for what the name may imply, it is a downer and can cause people to go brain dead if taken long enough. Highly addictive and known for its subtle yet potent odor. Feral is illegal for several reasons. The main one is due to its history. About one century ago, the king of Ivandria was at war with the elves of the Northern Hemisphere. He utilized everything in his tool belt in order to keep his soldiers at ease. Elves are crafty creatures, able to abolish any humans with their magic and supernatural capabilities, not to mention their skills in the art of magic. Entire armies were lost, and the king of Ivandria at the time used the Feral downer drug to calm the nerves of his soldiers. Little did he know the side effects of what the drug can do if taken profusely by a single individual.

Feral is spread far and wide across all of the places I know, and the problem that has made it banned in all human territory is the way it can turn human emotion into nothing. If taken in certain amounts, Feral can turn a human into a non-feral psychopath. People have been killed on the same side. Soldiers were told of murdering their own comrades without even the slightest bit of emotion. No smiles, no frowns, and no tears. Quite creepy, if you ask me. I only know this because I've seen it happen. If taken in large enough doses and under prolonged exposure. Humans can be turned into something not human at all. Groups of these "Skinwalkers," can be found randomly and at any time. Though they most commonly are found around rivers and cave systems. The noise of rivers is what draws them, and as for caves, they just might like the dark. I'm not too sure. Villages and towns always have defensive walls not just for wars, but for any creatures that may knock unexpectedly. I've been caught in a pack of Skinwalkers when I was only 14. Killing them was not easy since I wasn't in great shape physically and only had a small semi-blunt knife. It was my nimble physique that enabled my safety from them. They may not move quickly, but their strength in packs is something to reckon. I will never forget that day, I got stuck under a root of a large tree and one of the skin walkers fell on top of my legs and I almost got extremely hurt or even killed. That night was when I vowed to be stronger than any Skinwalker. That's a dumb 14 year old pubescent boy's dream, yet it has kept me alive ever since. Plus, now I am a pretty large guy. six foot four with a body built to move carriages by myself. I am grateful for innocent teenage brain. Even if it was a little special at times.

Even with the Feral drug having a renowned history, it is still grown in bulk. Not intentionally, and it is still not known for its deadly effects by all people of Ivandria. In the public eye, it was a horrible plant that causes death and insanity. Those who live in rural captivity don't fully understand the impact the drug has. I can only imagine how many people in the countryside have been drawn in by its impactful effects, though it certainly isn't beneficial. Kingdoms in Ivandria can spread far and wide, but that's why people don't always exactly have up to date information on current public events. It could take weeks for once king or queens new decrees to reach those of which who live on the farthest reaches of their own home kingdom. Sadly, due to this lack of power and control of information over kingdoms Feral has spread all throughout certain parts of the world. Even into the hands of friendly soldiers who thought it was smart to get high a day before battle. Families who have had relatives die in wars, or adventuring for guilds have surely tasted the sweet nectar of the Feral drug. Easing the senses inside the brain and rotting it at the same time.

Not all people are impervious to the lack of information. I find my information just from running around and eaves dropping on all sorts of things. Clueless merchants are prime examples of what not to do when travelling. Those morons love to give away samples and swindle anyone they see into buying one of their products and it never goes the way they want. Robberies on the road are persistent and I can only imagine why. That's sarcasm. Something that has also helped me stay alive is not just staying away from dumb merchants, it's my natural gift to learn quick. I may not be an incredibly smart guy, but I am able to listen well and retain subjects fairly feasibly. That quality might just help me get my own wife one day. Alas, I'm still but a dreamer and not a fighter.

I hopped into the carriage and I felt safer than I had been in a while. I shouldn't have felt safe, but I did. The Guards that were on my trail had to have been about a day's worth of time behind my current location. My plan was working to perfection, I might even be able to enjoy a stroll around time after getting some bandages and medicine that night. And if everything kept going to plan, I can escape the Gaurd's interest in finding me any further if I fake a lethal injury when they are close enough on my trail. Even with the Levanant still sniffing around like a hound after a wounded rabbit, I may not have been completely out of my neck of the woods. Though, at least I was closer to fixing the wound in my leg from the Knight Guards who slashed it in my escape from thievery days before. Even in this world, stealing can wind up with me inevitably dead.

Getting through the gate was not as simple as I originally thought, as soon as I entered the carriage the third one from the front of the pack. I instantly knew that something was aloof. Even though I felt safe, it wasn't safe enough. I knew what these people were carrying and it could be a very large problem with me ending up in jail for a long time. Beads of sweat sprung out of my pores, and it wasn't due to the mid-day heat. I began scrambling looking for a spot to take cover and hide. Fortunately, there was a large piece of fabric covering a barrel of raw meat. Yes, I hoped in the barrel. Very cramped, but it was worth it ruining my sense of smell for the time being in order to stay out from iron bars.

Thank the heavens the Guards at the gate didn't fully search the carriages, nor did they notice the stench of Feral that was in the carriage I was stuffed inside of. There were three barrels filled to the brim of Feral. The first question that came to my mind was how this group was able to find so much of the rare resource, and to who they were bringing it. Not like it was any of my business, though it did rise my interest in their situation. At any rate, I couldn't take more time to meander, the group was allowed passage into the town and I could start hearing the bustling of townsfolk. I poked my head out of the nasty barrel. I was now covered in bloody meat liquid. It was ratchet, though it harbored my safety. After the experience of hiding in a barrel, I vowed to never waste a finely cooked steak in my life. I was a thief on the run, but that doesn't mean I don't have a sense of morals or respect. Never know what or who can save your ass in a life or death situation. In my case, it was raw meat.

I steadily made my way out towards the back opening of the carriage I was couped up in for the last thirty minutes and made my descent down a ladder on the rear. I hopped off and made sure to get an understanding of where I was in Dristan. From a very quick profile, I immediately understood where I was in the town. I entered the southern entrance and was in the market district side of town. I knew this by the large shops that were lined up on all sides of the streets. Makes sense due to how many random things were in all of the carriages. The group was probably traveling merchants selling their merchandise to any willing distributor able to pay a viable amount of coin for their fees and a place to stay.

There was a shop that sold pharmaceuticals that I spotted out of the corner of my eye. It was about two hundred feet away, I needed to find a place to wash off the meat blood, and real blood from my wound. It was still excruciating but I couldn't give up yet. My goal was right in front of me. Rest and recovery were even closer than I imagined. There was got to be a place where I could bathe my body indiscriminately and out of sight. For a quick moment, I thought of the best place that could be. I was also going to need new clothes at some point too. Then it hit me, a stable. It may not be sanitary but it could be my saving grace to fully fit in before being pointed out as a suspect. I hobbled my way across the heat-filled cobblestone. Mid-day was hell in the summertime. If I didn't bathe in water, I surely could have bathed myself in my own sweat alone. I wiped off my face as best I could from the meat blood and used my shirt to do so.

Dristan didn't have large buildings, the most common ones inside of the village were only one to two stories tall and provided a little cover of shade for me to hide in. I needed to be a ghost. Though, there is a reason why ghosts don't pop up in the daylight. Ruins the aesthetic, that's for sure. Families and groups of men who were on their way to or from work were all around me. Some of them laughed and talked about their excitement about the festival that was coming up. Dristan is a quaint and peaceful area and the people inside are even happier than the rest of the world it seemed. I didn't exactly share their excitement for obvious reasons nor did I ever think I would at this time. The men who worked the farms were also in a good mood, their yearly harvest was rapidly approaching and they were beginning to stock up on new seeds and tools to get prepared for their work to ramp up in the next few weeks.

I couldn't tell if I got all or most of the blood off my face and made my way down the road. I moved from group to group and avoided eye contact with anyone in close proximity. I may have been limping, but anytime someone turned to look around I forced my body to walk properly. Wincing hard, I was able to do so even though it took a lot out of me to do so. I was looking to the heavens for easy recovery after I got my wound cleaned. Having an infection in my leg could possibly mean I'd lose it and at the time I couldn't afford to be able to run due to my current "circumstances." The fatigue eventually started wearing my energy away and I began getting a little anxious, though I had to keep my eye on the prize. I wasn't too far off.

I was edging closer and closer to the stables I needed to wash myself off at. That's when a pot-bellied man with a large beard bumbled away in front of me and I was glad he didn't turn around. I knew him, and he knew me. Fortunately with his large enough "presence," I was able to make it outside the merchandise district of Dristan. He was talking to one of his peers, probably trying to make another deal to take over more of the services industry in Dristan. That man owned a lot of strip clubs and "pleasure play pins." A sick form of paid sex for people who couldn't keep control of the twig between their legs. His name is Holt Wrangler. It's in his name as his job, he wrangles women into performing acts and "performing acts." I despised him and if I wasn't in the current state I was in, I would've attempted to pickpocket anything from him just to make his day just a little worse. He deserved it. That's a fact.

I was limp-walking for a mile and a half before I found myself in the shade of a stable. It smelled of shit, and I will never ever take a clean pair of clothes for granted again from this experience. Even with the manure smell in the air. I was able to sneak into one of the empty pins. It was a night out, so the owner or owners of the horses were in bed most likely. It took me a moment to find where their water source was. The stable was fairly large, it had Red Oakwood and smelled of mold and manure combined. A lovely scent if you ask an orphan such as myself, almost like home, oh wait.

Inside the stable was 3 large Hoof Horned Horses. They get the names from the hoofs having horn-like spikes at their feet. Simply put, they look like they are always moving fast even if they are not moving. They were pretty animals too, not only large but fast. I was hoping one day I'll work enough to be able to save up money to buy my own horse. Though they are quite expensive, my future horse wouldn't be more spoiled than any lady I'd meet. Horses don't leave you unless they die. That's something I appreciate the most about them. If you couldn't tell abandonment isn't something I deal with well and it's certainly ironic why that is.

Anyhow, one of the horses was all black, with a small strip of brown fur crawling down the length of the posterior of its' neck. I gave a closer look giving the handles of the gate a small squeeze while squinting my eyes. Magus was the name of the horse on the inside. An interesting name I thought to myself. I wondered who the owner was, would make sense if they were the ones who lived in the house close by. Even with all the questions in my head. I turned to my right and found an empty trough. That was where I was going to put the clean water to clean my body off. Every stable owner ought to have a well nearby to keep his or her animals well hydrated. I was also thirsty myself, I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday and I was not happy about it. Neither was my stomach for that matter either. After giving Magus a few quick and quiet pets I scurried over and out the back side of the stable. I peered around the right side corner that was more towards the house of the owner who most likely took care of these animals. No light was able to be seen poking its luminescence out from behind it's homemade laced velvet curtains. Tonight I had to maximize stealth. Controlled breathing, and fair balancing of weight on both feet even with my essentially useless left leg. compensation was definitely going to be a necessity if I was going to make it to the well that was somewhere around here.

A dog could smell my blood if it were anywhere inside of town and if I made one wrong sound. The whole house only 50 yards away could be woken up and would make the chance of gaining an infection even higher. Speaking of infection, I was starting to get worried. I was becoming a little numb in my left foot and I couldn't tell if it was from walking on it all day or if the infection was already in progress. This meant it was no more time to dally. Things could go wrong in the next 24 hours and I could lose a leg. I didn't lose my leg obviously, but there's a point to this little back story, I promise.

Turns out the well was on the left side of the barn, and once I saw that small metal bucket. I almost fell to my knees in relief. The day was already lost and night had fallen over Dristan. I was getting cold and I knew I would have to power through the morning the next day to get a head start on losing the trail from the Tracker Levanant the day before entering the village. I approached the mossy cobblestone that had the faint stench of wet stone and even the glistening of underground running water could be heard glistening in the ground below. I quickly took as much as I could in the bucket. Several trips back to the barn were necessary in order to fill up the big trough that was in there for me to have a "bath." I didn't have any soap but washing off is better than nothing.

I finally got my body washed. A full day of just trying to survive and attempting to keep me out of trouble from people that knew me or vice versa. It's not easy, these types of days happened all the time too. Even more so when Osiris came along, just because taking care of someone other than yourself is harder than meets the eye. All the blood was washed away from my body. I put my clothes back on carefully. Still not trying to create any large disturbance in the pitch black oil of night. What sucks is there's still a chance for this pitch-black oil of night to ignite and mean I get caught in a ring of fire. I used my shirt to clean off excess water. Since the blue shirt, I had now was soaking wet and stained in blood, I used it as a bandage for my scabbing leg wound. After I did so, I got into a corner of the stable somewhere out of sight so I could attempt to start sleeping. My leg even if it was healing, was numbing and the scab started getting a purple hue on the outside of the wound. The knife that the Levanant must've been poisoned. I could tell that it was now, the purple hue gave it away, it meant that my body was destroying itself from the inside, even if my blood was trying to cure it. It's spreading and I could lose my leg if I don't fix it soon. Damnit, no stores are open right now and I certainly don't have time to fuck around.

Right when I thought I was going to be able to rest, I realize the chance of me losing my leg has increased tenfold. Just great. There's one plant I knew of that grew that was a naturally occurring cure to most poisons. From how slow this poison was taking over my body, that meant one of two things. This was going to kill me by morning, or this was an incredibly weak poison that simple bacteria might've even caused. A coin flip was how my life was going to be decided. Not like I was complaining about the odds, never had a decent run anyways up to that point. Might as well have been born at the drop of a coin with all that's happened to me.

A small red and blue plant that is called Ninfra, is a rare yet powerful cleansing wonder that has blessed the seed of the planet. It's used in several low to medium-grade potions of healing. Though it's found in very random places. No one really can pinpoint its favorable environmental conditions. I had one book in my life, and that was the book of Guild Gladiator Galdrus, a legendary man who was known for his physical fitness and his ability to wield a sword like no other. His sword had the sheen of a mirror reflecting as pure as sunlight on the ocean waves. While chasing after a Fire drake in the mountains, a single Ninfra root, cured him of a frostbitten snake. Frost snakes are found in mountains and can sneak up on prey underneath the snow coverage according to what I read. Sneaky devils and one just so happened to jump the gun on Galdrus and latched on to his right arm ligament. Rendered his dominant sword-wielding arm completely useless. Some thought he was going to die there in the mountains, until seemingly his last breaths, a Ninfra flower pedal landed on his arm while snow covered his body and healed him out of nowhere.

I'm sure that story is dramatized for the kids. As childish as it may seem, I needed my Ninfra pedal in the middle of a snowstorm moment, and I required that pedal soon. My eyes became obsidian, dark, and heavy. The fatigue was truly kicking my ass. I pressed on into a small forest that was only a short distance away from the stables. Vines hung low from the trees, and there were the sounds of various animals to and fro in the darkness. Nothing serious, though at this point the only thing keeping me awake was my adrenaline. These Ninfra plants can grow anywhere. There was no point in staying in one area and looking hard. the out of touch colors that the plant possesses make it an easy outlier