Fragments Gallery
Do You Remember?
Do you remember the first time we met?
I do. I remember clearly and I can never forget.
Long ago things seemed different. Thinking back times were simpler then; but that's how it goes isn't it? In hindsight everything in the past seems simpler; every choice we made seems easier. We don't always remember the anguish we went through in making some of those choices so now they seem like straight forward decisions. But back then... things were different.
---
I was a young man then, still trying to decide what I was to do with my life. I'm sure you remember how I was; unsure, lacking confidence, flighty. I was in a new world, out of my element, where I was still trying to figure things out. It's not that I grew up sheltered, at least not by the standards of my village. Rather in a secluded village on the coast there was so much that I never had the chance to experience or deal with.
Living there I was happy... for a time. Things weren't perfect but they didn't need to be. However eventually I grew restless and decided I should leave for a while. I wanted to see the sights while I still could. The outside world beckoned to me and there was so much to see.
So I signed on as a caravan guard and rode away. Sure I've looked back, but never more than briefly. I'm glad I left. Had I not I never would have met you. Don't blush, it's true. Any hardship I endured was worth it.
My first couple years away from the village were rough. I made a few bad choices and people took advantage of me for it. I learned quickly. Although it didn't take me long to adapt to this world it took me some time to get my feet under me. But during that time I saw some phenomenal things. I saw the end of the great siege of Kratrs; my caravan was travelling through when the king rolled in his trebuchets. I watched from a distance as the wall fell and the city burned. We were several miles away but still I could see the light from the fires.
I saw the great crystal oceans in the west; how different and fantastic they were compared to the sea I grew up beside. The ports we visited there were so alive and full of colour; in the markets you could find anything.
I saw some glorious things in those years; but there was bad with all of the good.
Sometimes we had little food and often we had poor weather. There were many times we were stuck starving on a muddy road. Bandits could strike us at any time and we never had much, if any, warning when they did. Travelling was dangerous and I knew many guards, some of them veterans who had more years of combat experience than I had of life, who died doing their duty. It all came down to luck at times.
It was on a muddy day when first I met you; do you remember? Do you remember how dusk's amber light mingled with the blue shadows that evening? How the cool wind sprayed the drizzle into a sparkling mist and the scent of rain filled the air?
I do too. I remember that night clearly.
I was riding on the west side of the wagon enjoying the evening. In spite of the light rain we were making good time. We hadn't seen bandits for a while so we were a bit more relaxed than normal. That calmness certainly ended quickly when the screams started.
The screaming started suddenly and the source of the sound seemed fairly close by. The shrieks cut sharply through the air. None of the guards instantly moved towards the sound; instead we looked around cautiously. Bandits sometimes used this is a distraction tactic to separate us or get in close unnoticed.
"Any who leave their posts will forfeit their pay," growled the wagon master when he noticed that a few of us guards looked towards the sound, but his words were unnecessary. Mostly unnecessary anyways; none of us were willing to move at first.
As the screams continued my certainty that it was a trap shook. Those screams sounded too full of terror, too... real. Still, the other guards weren't falling for it even if I was. Our master noticed my stance and guessed what I planning to do; he met my eyes and shook his head slowly. I knew then that if I broke rank he'd do what he could to ensure I never found work again. Even the other guards looked at me and shook their heads; "this is not your fight" those looks said. But I couldn't just ignore those screams.
I nudged my horse into a gallop and we rushed away from the angry yells of my master and towards the source of the sound. I rode off the road and broke through a treeline into a clearing; it was there that they were waiting. Four bandits wielding quarter staves moved in to engage me. They blocked my exits, threatening to unhorse me if I attempted to ride through, so I did what I could to stand and fight.
Alone as I was it didn't take the quartet of bandits long to unhorse me. I landed heavily on the ground and, winded, struggled to rise. One of the bandits, standing above me with his sword now unsheathed, raised his blade. Though I was determined to roll and avoid that sharp edge I knew that I couldn't evade the blade forever. Thankfully it never came to that.
First the bandit standing over me sprouted arrows and then one by one the other three did as well. Finally I managed to rise and I turned to see a cloaked figure wielding a bow walking towards me.
It was then that I met you. You saved me.
---
Sure I have never managed to find work as a guard since then, but that doesn’t matter to me.
I have never regretted that choice to leave the caravan. Never.