Left in the dust. Just when I thought things were looking up. We meet here in the morning but what am I going to do until then? I don’t live here. I don’t have any money. Is she trying to get me killed? Somehow I don’t think so. If she wanted to cut me off then why tell me to meet here?
The light is fading in the sky for real now and it’s starting to get black. If I move back outside the gates who knows what will happen to me? I doubt they can say all of the lands near the city are safe at night. But with a glance, I see the residents of the street growing more sparse and more dangerous looking at a scary pace.
I turn back to the gates only to have them essentially slammed in my face as the city locks down for the night. And so I start to walk.
People still linger in the streets. Just not people who match the aesthetic of just minutes before. Dirty rags, unkempt hair, tired faces, and thin bodies. Were they coming out of the woodwork now or did I just not notice them before?
I’m still walking. One of increasingly few to be doing so, and soon it starts to draw eyes from the vagrants. Without turning their heads I can feel their eyes follow me with a vague interest before snapping away as I wandered out of sight.
These were the people society rejected. Bleak futures, grim realities, and an unsteady supply of food. Some might not live through the next day without the charity of others. And if they got it, I can’t help but feel it would just be prolonging their suffering without leaving them any real sense of hope.
Coughs echo through the streets as they deafen over the course of minutes. My footsteps quickly became louder in my own ears. Even if they were just the crude leather and black cloth cross between shoes and sandals, among the quiet they became noticeable against the stone road.
A hand flickers from one of the men on the side of the road. A middle age man who fits my prior description of the people here well.
As I look over at him he gestures again and I make it out in the fading light. A quick come here. The few lanterns dotting the street are barely shedding any light, and night has now set in for real. The sky is black and the streets quiet.
I move over to him. When I reach him he quietly speaks to me.
“Kid, are you new here?”
“Yes, I just got in a couple of minutes ago actually.”
“In that aspect. You can count yourself lucky. You don’t want to be out of the gates at night. You won’t see them coming until it’s too late. On the other hand, nightfalls are about the worst time to get to the city when you have no money. If you want I can show you a place to sleep. As good as any around here.”
“I would appreciate it. It’s been a long day and I’m damn near dead on my feet from all of this walking.”
Should I trust this strange street man? Maybe not. But I’m tired. If worse comes to worst I still have my bony trump cards after all.
He took me down the alley and told me to set up what I could there. Sadly, most of my stuff is still with the skeletons outside the gates. I only had two hides left in case I saw a place I could sell them to see how much they were worth. I Layed one down on the ground and curled up as much as I could before covering myself with the other. It’s basically pitch black in here. Only the faintest of moonlight lets me know which way is which.
“I’m gonna be further up the alley between you and the road. If anything happens, I’ll whistle. Jump through the window into the shop on your right. Head out the back. Run until you can’t move your legs ok?”
“Got it. Thanks a lot. What’s your name by the way?”
“Bernardo, and yours?”
“Krieg. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. Sleep well kid.”
I wish I could say I did, but the rocks and dust, hard floor, and slight chill in the air were making it difficult to do that. Eventually, my consciousness fades once again. And an unknown amount of time passes.
A shrill whistle pierces the air.
