~Three Days Later~
It was supposed to be a simple heist.
Just grab a couple loaves of bread, some water, then head across the desert to Al-Mamoon, get some information, and see if there was a way he could get to Hamelin.
But… once again… plans went astray.
He started heisting a few things off the carts he snuck on. Not just food, but gems, clothes, drops- whatever caught his eye.
Problems arose when he tried to get off the cart- his arms were so full, he couldn't catch himself when he stumbled over the edge, falling onto the ground; some fragile objects broke beneath him, a few shards piercing his skin. As if that wasn't painful enough, the owners caught him. They were merciless, punching and kicking him, then throwing him down the hill, having him roll until he crashed into a Mohawk.
After having to fend off the creature, he was worn out. It wasn't until another merchant passed by- the woman who had given him and Shadow a lift before- that he got somewhat of a reprieve. She took sympathy on him, letting him lie down in the back of her cart; she asked where the little boy was. He told her about his run-in with the bandits- improvising by claiming they took the boy after beating him unconscious.
He felt a pain in his heart as he told the story.
He knew the truth…
He abandoned the kid, after slapping him with the back of his hand.
He still didn't know what had gotten into him…
His eyes drifted over to a sack sitting in the corner of the cart. His mind went blank.
By the time they reached Al-Mamoon, Swaine had snuck off the cart with the sack.
…
He didn't get far. The woman had gone to the nearest guards, telling them about a 'rugged traveler with a missing child', bringing up how said man vanished with a bag of goods.
She spotted him on the street, pointing him out.
The guards took chase.
Swaine ran as fast as he could, throwing the sack over his shoulder to delay them, cutting through an alley.
He hit a dead end…
A guard tackled him.
"I didn't mean to take it! I thought it was mine, I had a sack just like it-!" The thief sputtered. "Throw me in jail, but let me keep my hands-!"
"Shut it, will you?" the guard hissed; Swaine looked at him, relieved to find it was his inside-source. "Dammit, Swaine, I thought you were smart enough not to make heists around Al-Mamoon! Are you trying to get your hands lopped off?!"
"Hey, I snagged the bag BEFORE I entered the city. Therefore, the 'hands-off' penalty shouldn't apply to me,"
"Yeah. Good luck telling that to the court,"
"C'mon, Ramus, you have to help me out! I have something important to do!"
"Like what, spread stories about a missing kid?"
Swaine scowled. "No. I have to get to Hamelin. I was hoping you knew a way to help me out,"
"I know the Cowlipha has a boat- but no one is allowed on-board without a letter of passage. And before you ask, no, I can't get you one- suspicion would arise, and I'm already risking my neck just talking to you!"
The thief sighed. "Fine, but you'll keep an ear out, won't you?"
"Sure… but it'll cost you 500g."
"Deal."
Ramus hauled him to his feet, then walked down the end of the alley. "Now get out of the city. We've got enough to deal with- and keep discrete next time, otherwise I'll turn you in myself!" With that, he left; he called to his comrades down the street, claiming the thief took off down another alley.
Swaine peeked out; once the coast was clear, he ran out of the city.
…
As he crossed over a dune into the wilderness, a young boy and fairy were coming around the bend, entering Al-Mamoon.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
It seemed he had lucked out in the desert city, as misfortune seemed to follow him. The heat in the desert dried him out- he could barely develop any saliva in his mouth.
Mix that with a couple bold creatures who wanted to pick a fight, and he nearly passed out.
It was sundown by the time he got to the pass leading to the bayous. He stopped at a tiny pond, practically falling in it as he dropped to his knees, dousing his face while cupping his hands for a drink- unlike the oasis in the desert, the water was filthy, and he had to choke it down. Chances are, he would be regurgitating it later on.
No matter. Castaway Cove was just down the road. He could sneak into the Inn for a good night's sleep, snag a few things, and hang about until he figured out a new plan…
Once again, things went astray.
This time, he spotted something glimmering in the distance. An item someone dropped, no doubt.
Without hesitation, he went off-road to go find the source of the shimmer, running over the hill, seeing the item lying in a puddle of water. He picked it up…
…finding it to be nothing more than a wet stone.
"Dammit," he cursed, throwing the stone back in the water. He began to storm off…
Only to find his path blocked by two Hog-Goblins… and a Gob-Father.
Swaine quickly drew his gun…
*click*
…only to remember he ran out of bullets days ago, and had yet to find the materials he needed to reload it.
Summoning Gunther, he tried to fend off the creatures, but they proved too strong; his familiar was also as worn out as the thief, neither of them having the stamina to fight. The trio of creatures were merciless, slashing and hacking at his familiar. The thief drew him back… and took off in a sprint, running away from the fiends.
They took pursuit, cutting him off halfway down the road. The thief took a sharp turn, running through the trees, reaching a clearing-
The Gob-Father leaped in front of him, jabbing him with his spear.
It was a minor blow… but it did the trick.
Swaine's vision began to fade, everything going black. "This can't be happening…!" he gasped, before falling face-first on the ground.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
A jar of Bumbler Honey.
That's what he saw before him, in the middle of the path.
He ran towards it…
A large hoof came crashing down, smashing the jar before he could grab it.
Gladiataur roared, his eyes alight with flames, snorting smoke. He charged at the thief in a blind rage-
"Agh!" Swaine gasped, snapping awake from the nightmare.
He was lying on the ground, still alive. The creatures had left, perhaps to fight with a livelier foe.
Just a nightmare… He thought with relief.
…
Or… was it?
It was a nightmare, but it was based on truth.
He thought back to the situation.
…
Shadow had been so careful to sneak out; Swaine, in his haste, ended up causing a bunch of noise that caught some creature's attention. Even so, they managed to beat them in a fight…
…but he just had to go back for that honey. What use of it was to him? He didn't even like the taste! Yet he had to go grab it.
Shadow had been waving his arms like mad, trying to alert him…
The thief closed his eyes.
If he hadn't turned around for some worthless item, they could have gotten out of the forest, safe and sound. Shadow wouldn't have gotten hurt…
If only he had a little more control…
Shadow wasn't the only one to blame for their misfortune…
Actually… he was the one who screwed up things.
Now he lay on the ground, aching from last night, fresh wounds caked with dirt, his gun without ammo... and his brother far away, his hometown in trouble, and he had no way of helping them.
He was tired. He was starving. He was wounded.
He was out of ideas.
Swaine opened his eyes, looking at the sky through the tree-tops. It was still a deep shade of blue, with a hint of purple and orange, signifying that it was early dawn. A good opportunity to sneak into the seaside village…
But he couldn't move. His body ached too much. He barely had any strength to sit up.
It was a miracle he was even still alive…
Bloody hell… The thief cursed mentally, shutting his eyes.
…
A light shined moments later.
…
It couldn't be sunrise already, could it?
…
But… it was coming from the west…
It was getting brighter; he could feel a soft glow on his face.
"What the…?" Swaine rasped, his eyes squinting as he opened them, and he had to shield his face.
The light moved, being tucked away… and the first thing the thief noticed was a familiar pack lying on the ground- filled with food, bottled water, and tonics!
He looked over…
He couldn't believe it.
Shadow had come back.