The wagon rattled on.
Faintz leaned back against the side of the cart, but his eyes stayed on Ash.
"You're kidding me, right? Atone? You think this world gives a damn about that?" he pressed.
Ash turned his head, staring out the wagon slats at the scattered borderlands where thin crops clung to the soil. "I'm not going to rob or steal."
"You won't? Kid, you'll starve. No one here's going to hand you bread out of pity. You either join a gang, or you end up in a ditch. Simple."
Ash's jaw tightened. "I'll find another way."
Faintz clicked his tongue and leaned closer. "Don't be stupid. I've seen people like you before. You'll beg to be part of something, just wait. You'll come running to me when your stomach eats itself."
"Then I'd rather starve first."
Faintz stared at him, eyes narrowing, and for a moment his face was hard. Then he suddenly leaned back with a laugh. "You're insane, Mashen. Fine, have it your way. But don't say I didn't warn you."
The tension finally ebbed, and Ash pulled his hood lower. He was put into sleep, though his mind burned with restless thoughts.
---
Hours later, he stirred awake as someone mentioned their route.
Lithuan was still far away, and the driver had told them twice already that they'd need to change wagons when they reached the crossroads outside Alberg City.
Alberg.
Ash knew the name. It was the first city past the border, the unofficial gateway into Luthian.
Unlike the villages along the road, Alberg was alive. It was a border hub, built on trade and desperation, with its stone walls patched from decades of skirmishes.
Inside, it was a city split in half.
Merchants from both kingdoms swarmed its markets, selling everything from livestock to smuggled relics.
The northern quarter belonged to guilds and traders, lined with inns that smelled of roasted meat and cheap ale.
The southern quarter was different.
That was where the poor lived, packed into wooden shacks stacked on top of each other, where crime festered and survival meant siding with a crew.
Alberg's city guards were notorious. They didn't care what happened in the southern quarter, as long as trouble didn't spill into the markets.
Anyone weak was swallowed by thieves or pressed into gangs. If you weren't careful, you could vanish in Alberg and no one would even remember your name.
The wagon clattered on, and Ash tried to close his eyes again, but Faintz leaned toward him, voice dropping low as if he was sharing something dangerous.
"Hey, Mashen, you hear about that kid from Varex?"
Ash's heart almost stopped, but he kept his face calm. "What kid?"
"The one worth two hundred gold coins," Faintz said, grinning like he'd just found buried treasure. "They say he destroyed a whole village. Witnesses claim he dropped a boulder the size of a house. Can you believe that?"
Ash forced a chuckle. "Sounds like a story they tell to scare children."
Faintz shook his head. "Nah, the notice came straight from Varex. But, imagine, though, two hundred gold. It's even enough to buy yourself a house in Luthian, live comfortable, eat every day without begging. If I caught him, I'd be set for life."
Ash's grip tightened on the wagon's wooden frame, but he kept his tone steady. "And what would you do with all that money besides that?"
"Me?" Faintz's smile widened. "I'd rebuild my crew."
Before Ash could ask, Faintz's eyes drifted, remembering what had happened and what he meant. So, to understand the context better, he explained to Ash.
"So basically..."
Shouts filled the night as armored men pounded on the vault doors. Faintz ducked behind a counter. His crew, seven men and one woman, were scattered across the bank hall, masks half-ripped, weapons raised.
"Faintz, they're breaking through!" one of them screamed.
"Hold them back! Just a few more minutes!" Faintz shouted. He swung his axe, shattering the handle of a guard's spear.
Coins spilled from broken bags, clattering on the marble floor, but there was no time to grab them.
The first line of soldiers burst in, shields raised. Steel clashed. His cousins and brothers barked orders from the front, rallying their gang like wolves. But they were no match. For every guard they dropped, three more pushed through.
"Fall back!" Faintz yelled, dragging one of his men by the arm.
He looked around and saw that the exit was blocked, arrows already raining through the windows. His throat tightened. They were trapped.
One by one, his crew fell. His brothers fought until the end before he was cut down and dragged away in chains.
And Faintz, Faintz had no choice. He smashed through a side door, and ran. Ran until his lungs screamed. Ran until his legs gave way.
---
The wagon jolted over a rock, pulling Ash back to the present. Faintz leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his grin returning like none of the story had scarred him.
"They took everything from me that night, so that's why I came back."
He glanced at Ash. "So, Mashen. You still saying no to me?"
Ash met his gaze, silent, and his chest felt heavy.
"Yes, obviously."
"You really are different…" Faintz muttered, staring at Ash as if the kid was some puzzle piece that wouldn't fit.
Ash didn't even get the chance to reply when a shout cut through the wagon. Two men were standing, pushing each other like caged dogs.
At first, it was just yelling, but the longer it went on, the rougher it became. The wagon itself shook as people scrambled out of the way, pulling their baskets and bags closer.
"Stop this madness!" one of the older men barked, but his voice was drowned by the chaos.
One of the fighters swung wildly with his fist, and in the same motion the other pulled out a knife.
The shine of the blade only lasted a second before it sank deep into the man's ribs.
The man clutched his side as blood pooled fast, darkening his tunic.
Mothers covered their children's faces, men shouted in panic, and some tried to push forward and stop the bleeding with rags.
The attacker looked around frantically, breathing hard like a hunted animal. He didn't wait. He jumped from the wagon, landed hard on the dirt, then dashed into the forest without looking back.
The driver cursed and yanked on the reins, bringing the horses to a sudden halt. Dust blew in from the road as people shouted all at once.
"Get him! Ten gold coins to anyone who catches that bastard!" the stabbed man wheezed through the blood in his throat, still clutching his wound.
Ten gold coins was not a small sum. In an instant, men leapt from the wagon. Faintz was one of them, obviously. His eyes burned with greed as he slapped Ash's shoulder.
"Ten gold, Mashen! That's enough to eat for a month! Don't sit there like a stone, let's go!"
This greedy fox!
Before Ash could say anything, Faintz had already jumped off, running with the others into the forest.
Their shouts echoed between the trees as branches snapped under their boots.
Ash stayed in his seat. His hands trembled slightly on his knees, though he tried to hide it.
He watched the bleeding man groaning on the floor, watched people crying, whispering prayers, and he felt that weight again, the same weight that had been on him since the village.
This wagon isn't safe. Plus, we are stopping in the middle of our journey. What if monsters attack us?
His eyes slid toward the forest line, where shadows swallowed the men who chased the criminal.
Next to him, someone whispered in fear, "This road's cursed. First blood spilled, and next it'll be bandits or monsters. You'll see."
Ash said nothing.
---
Ash sat there watching the man bleed.
The whole wagon had turned into a hive of panic, people whispering about curses, about bandits, about death following them. He clenched his fists.
If I keep sitting here, I'll just rot with them. No… I need to move. I need to atone right now.
He stood up, his legs stiff, and pushed through the crowd. Everyone was focused on the stabbed man and the woman crouching next to him.
She had dark green hair that fell over her shoulders, pale skin, and round glasses that kept slipping down her nose as she pressed cloth against the wound.
Her hands were steady, though her lips were tight with worry. From the satchel by her side, bottles and dried herbs spilled out—no doubt she was the only one here who knew what she was doing.
Ash bent slightly, keeping his voice calm. "I'm Mashen. Can I do anything to help?"
The woman looked up quickly, brushing hair from her face with the back of her wrist.
For a second her eyes searched him, like she was weighing if he was just another panicked bystander. Then she nodded.
"Errawarrie Elise," she said quickly, almost out of breath. "I need herbs. I used up the ones I had with me. There's a plant called Silverleaf in the forest nearby and it stops bleeding if we brew it into a paste. Without it, this man won't last."
She didn't need to explain further.
Ash's chest tightened. He turned his head slowly toward the tree line. The forest loomed dark and heavy, branches twisting together like claws.
Even from here, the shadows between the trunks looked too deep. He didn't need anyone to tell him there were monsters inside.
"Silverleaf?" he repeated, though his mouth had gone dry.
Elise nodded quickly, pointing toward the direction the criminal had fled. "They grow in clusters near the thicker roots. They have broad leaves with a silver shimmer on the edges. You can't miss them."
Ash swallowed. This is stupid. If I go in there and something finds me, I'll be the one bleeding out. But if I don't… she'll know I'm useless. Everyone will see I'm just dead weight.
He rubbed his palms on his pants.
"Fine. I'll look for it."
Elise's eyes softened, if only a little. "Be careful. Monsters don't wait for you to pick plants."
"Don't worry about me, worry about that man first. I can handle them myself."