Bandits and Brigands

It was a calm, breezy summer morning. The sound of wood being chopped could be heard in the distance.

"Load up the boat, boys!"

A few young yet scraggly men were moving around some makeshift docks, loading wooden crates onto a ship. The ship had a torn sail, so it wasn't ideal, but someone cut holes in the sides of the ship to allow paddles to be used instead.

As I stood watching this scene from a safe distance, I knew what had to be done - these men were our enemies. As bandits, we were righteous. We protected the weak from the strong, and in turn, the weak helped sustain us. These pirates looted a nearby port town and were trying to make off with stolen goods, at the expense of the townspeople.

I clenched my fist, but a man came up behind me and slapped my shoulder.

"Don't go out now, moron. You need the element of surprise to do anything."

He was a strong man, and also our leader. He stood taller than most, and even crouching behind trees and bushes as we were, he was still three times my height. I wasn't exactly short for my age, either...

One of the pirates started cutting the ropes that secured the boat to the docks, and our leader raised his hand to give the signal.

Some distance away, to my left, our Archer stood up, and struck some flint together, causing a spark that lit his arrowhead. The plan was about to conclude.

He pulled the arrow back, waiting for them to cut the last rope. The last rope was finally cut, and he release the arrow. The bowstring snapped afterward, and the archer shook the hand he pulled back with, throwing his bow on the ground in frustration.

It didn't matter, though, as the arrow hit where it needed to. The oil our group had dumped into the water the previous night was lit ablaze, surrounding the ship in a circle of flame.

"Boat monkeys are on the menu today, let's go eat!"

Our leader charged first, holding his buckler in front of his chest. The pirates had two archers, so he gave everyone, except me, a buckler made of iron. Our group seemed to be dealing with the arrows fired by the pirates without trouble, as if they could predict where the archers would aim.

I wanted a buckler too, but there were reasons I wouldn't benefit from having one. The leader told me it would slow me down too much since my job was to go in stealthily and kill off a few of the pirates who were off-guard if necessary. Since that didn't seem to be the case, I retreated into the forest and returned to camp.

Afterward, the leader apparently returned all of the supplies back to the townspeople, refusing to take any that they offered, and only collecting the bounties placed on the pirates we killed today. He said "True bandits live off of the wildlife."

I sat near the campfire that night, alone, but not particularly lonely. Our group's archer sat on a stump near me, yet I couldn't remember his name, so I never conversed with him. In fact, I didn't know anyone's name, even the leader's, so I only spoke when I really needed to.

Hell, I didn't even know my own name. But, though I've long forgotten the rest of the names I've been told, one name stuck with me in particular - Cleia. It was the name of the woman who gave me to these bandits, and the person I'm searching for.

I don't remember what happened before then, so only by finding her, will my past have answers...

I awoke to the sound of chopping wood. Every morning, our leader would chop enough firewood to get us through until the next day. Yesterday's bounty gave us enough money to get our weapons repaired, but not to buy supplies. Our leader seems to loathe buying supplies from the people who he returns them to and says it would worsen our group's reputation.

He may be right, though. No one would want to hire someone for bounty collection and to retrieve supplies only to give those same supplies to the retrievers. To survive, all one really needs to know is a few basic things - how to hunt, how to set up a shelter of any kind or find a cave, and how to make a fire. Oh, and chopping wood is a useful skill.

As training before anyone joins the group, they're taught basic survival skills by either the leader or our archer. They're both very adept at most survival skills. Apparently, the archers we fought yesterday, as well as all of the pirates, were former town guards, so they only had basic training.

Their archers were probably taught to shoot at the center of the body since it's the largest target and easiest to hit. This, of course, worked against them, since our leader did some information digging when he accepted the task of dealing with the pirates. We managed to capture all of the pirates alive, though a few had severe injuries.

Unlike our leader, however, I believed this to be a mistake. Unless you kill someone, they can, and most likely will, come seeking revenge later. Pushing these thoughts aside, I got dressed and fastened the belt holding my daggers around my waist. The daggers were sheathed at my back, where I could cover them with my cloak.

I adorned my cloak and exited the makeshift shelter I constructed out of branches and leaves. Apparently, the archer was chopping wood instead, which was odd.

"Leader's gone for a bit, why don't you fetch some kindling?"

I nodded in response, and went into the nearby forest, picking up small branches and twigs wherever I came across them. This was a very old forest, and our leader had respect for it - we never cut down any trees, and took wood only from fallen trees. After about an hour, I'd collected a sizeable pile of kindling, probably enough to get us through the entire day, and maybe even the night.

On my way back, I noticed smoke rising from the camp. But that couldn't be possible, since I had yet to bring the kindling, unless...

"No, they wouldn't..."

I had a bad feeling about this, so I ran back to camp as fast as I could. But, it was too late. Everyone was dead, slaughtered mercilessly, and all of our shelters were burned to the ground. Our supplies were also gone, which indicated to me that it was the work of pirates related to the ones we captured yesterday. But, the thing that horrified me the most was on display at the edge of the camp.

"Kid... over here..."

Our leader was missing his arms and was tied up to a dead tree. He was bleeding severely. I ran over and tried to apply some pressure to stop the bleeding, but he groaned and struggled to avoid it. It wouldn't work anyway, these wounds were fatal.

"You have to... live. Don't take bounties anymore, kid..."

I nodded. I was lying, of course. I would take bounties, but for a different reason now - to kill the bastards who stole the only family I had left. I won't make the mistake of leaving anyone alive.

"Good... I buried a box near where my shelter was. If you find it, it has... ugh..."

He coughed up blood, unable to speak any longer. I nodded again, and he smiled in return. He had a look in his eyes that seemed to say 'good luck'. I cut the ropes, and gently lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the tree. He coughed up blood one more time before his life ended for good.

"I won't forgive them for this..."

I decided in my heart that I would get revenge, and kill every single person involved in this, and if there were townspeople who helped, they would receive my wrath as well. However, now was too soon for me. I had to become stronger, faster, and more skilled before I could hope to take on enemies that cleared out our camp. I wasn't suicidal.

I decided to head south, as many flourishing cities were there. With any luck, I'd find a way to make a living, as well as find more information. Of course, I would wait to dig anything up for now - none of the pirates ever saw me, since I didn't participate in the battle. This gave me the advantage, but that only hold so long as they don't think I'm on to them.

In large cities, pirates usually masqueraded as merchants, selling off stolen goods. This meant that asking anyone questions about them was dangerous. The only ones who stood out to me were the two archers, so if I found them, I would remember their faces. I had surely forgotten what the others looked like, so it would be useless to search for them.

I started the journey south, hugging the forests to the west. If needed, I could always retreat into the forests. For many days, probably even weeks, I survived by eating insects and any small birds I could hit with stones. I did know how to use a bow, but I never learned how to make one, so it was difficult to hunt right now.

I had to keep a small fire going each night just to keep from freezing to death - summer was in its death throes, and autumn was just around the corner. It was so cold every night that I was sure I'd get frostbite if I kept still long enough. However, as I went further south, the weather seemed to get worse, albeit a bit warmer.

Ponds and streams were becoming less common, and I had to resort to drinking from puddles whenever it rained. If I didn't come across a town soon, I'd be in trouble. I eventually started seeing things that weren't there. A pond here, a river there, I began seeing water mirages even though this was a vast grassland.

My weakened body was unable to throw stones quickly enough to kill birds, so I began eating grass and insects almost exclusively. I could feel myself approaching death with every passing day. After a few hours, or maybe a few days, I began losing my sense of direction, and my vision worsened.

I pounded the ground feebly, cursing my ill fortune, and remembering who it was that caused this vividly - if I lived through this, I would make sure to take revenge. I may be just a child in their eyes, but I'm willing to throw my life away to kill every single one of them.

I eventually began to see a mirage of a merchant's wagon and knew I had lost any remnant of sanity I once had. If that was really a merchant's wagon, I could be saved, but only if I could stay alerted long enough to greet them. I was becoming lightheaded and had a stabbing headache. My vision finally faded, and I could feel and think no longer.