The Persecuted

Chapter 12

Memories

“They say he vanished in a puff of black smoke, right there, from the wagon, and that his mother spat fire at the crowd trying to kill her.”

“You're full of shit, Garb.”

“Just telling what I heard!” the man grabbed his tankard and took a long gulp. He glared at his friend. “You know how people are. One World Destroyer and they see the end of the world.”

“It is what the Church teaches,” said the other man and stared into the fire. “Bad business people like them. Thank the god we have pious men and women who hunt them down. They'll catch this runaway and burn him at the stake like he deserves.”

A moment of silence passed between the men.

“I still can't believe they let him escape, Val.” Garb took another sip from his tankard. They had a piece of meat rolling on the fire and their horses were tied to the back of the wagon. They weren't far from the near by town where they'd gotten some supplies and heard the rumour they were now chewing through.

“Them city folk don't know how to deal with people that need to be killed,” said Val. “They think they need to be paraded through the streets. What they should do is just kill them on sight like they do in smaller towns.”

“You know that's not true, Val,” said Garb. “Town folk are so bored that a World Destroyer is something everyone wants to see. The whole town gathers around to see their deaths. They're just as bad as city folk, if not worse.”

Val grunted something and shut up.

Adan wiggled his way into the back of their wagon and started to rummage for things he could use. There was a loaf of bread that his hands found immediately followed by a thick quarter of cheese. He was careful to keep an ear out for the two men. If they found him he'd be dead.

“Do you think they really have powers?” asked Garb. Having gotten into the wagon their voices came a bit more muffled but still clear enough to be made out.

“What? That they can disappear in a puff of smoke and breath fire?” Adan couldn't see the men any more, but he could imagine the look of ridicule on the man. His hands found some dried meat that he packed in his little sack of things.

“It's what the Church teaches. 'Beware for their abilities come from Desolation.'” A direct quote from scripture by the sound of Garb, which was a bit of surprise for a travelling goods hauler like him.

“You'd think that they'd be able to do something special,” said Val. “There's so few of them that it would be hard for one to do anything if they didn't have some trick up their sleeve. Since they come from Desolation it must be something horrible. But I've been to one of those executions and if the weird eye had any power and he needed a reason to use it, then it was then and there, but all he did was burn up screaming.”

I wish I had some power. Maybe things wouldn't be so hard. Maybe I wouldn't need to sneak around in the dark and steal from passers by. Maybe I wouldn't need to hide in the woods from every other human.

Wishful thinking wasn't something Adan did often, but sometimes he allowed himself that luxury. His fingers were still wrapped up, but they had had time to heal and there were days when he thought maybe it was time to free them. But the time had not been right yet. Barely three weeks had gone by since he'd killed the old man and stolen his belongings. He continued to search the wagon for useful things.

“Maybe he didn't want to reveal them. Wants to keep people thinking none of them have any powers,” said Garb.

Val laughed. “If you were going to be burned alive, would you not escape no matter what it took? No reason to keep hiding things at that point.”