The Persecuted

Chapter 2

Gan walked over and offered the bowl of steaming soup to him. Adan pushed himself against the head of the bed so he sat up. The man looked at his grimace, but didn't offer to help. Finally, Adan grabbed the bowl and stirred it around with the wooden spoon. He didn't recognize half the things in it, but at least it smelled edible.

He took a spoonful and didn't find the taste too offending.

“I'm not like the Church, boy. I don't judge you just because you were born with different eyes than the rest of us. This whole 'they will destroy the world' nonsense is just that, nonsense. At least until you decide to actually do it. Then I'll believe them.”

“I'm not going to destroy the world,” said Adan and looked down into his bowl.

Gan laughed and took a seat by the table. “Tell me, what can you do? Do you have the strength of ten men? Can you create fire out of thin air? Does looking into your eyes send men's souls straight into Desolations arms?”

Adan knew the stories. Rumours. Lies the church told of people like him. None of it was true.

“I'm not special,” he said and took a spoonful of the soup. His stomach was starting to get full and that had him feeling a bit better about everything. “All I can do is run and survive.”

“Not the skills with which to destroy the world then,” said Gan, amused.

“Why aren't you afraid of me?” asked Adan and gave the man a look. “Everyone else is. The moment they see my eyes everyone turns from friendly to bloodthirsty.”

Gan snorted. “Bunch of brainwashed gullible fools. They follow blindly the words of priests, not questioning what they're asked to do and why. I'm not like that.”

Adan examined the man more closely. The lighting wasn't the best, but he did manage to get a glimpse of his forehead from under the long hair. The brand on his forehead told the story behind his attitude.

“You're an outcast?”

Gan grinned again. “Sharp eyes you've got there, boy. You're right. The Church cursed me and the villagers drove me to the woods. So here I live.”

“What did you do?”

The man shrugged. “I asked too many questions. The priests don't like that. It's not a big enough offence to rile up people into killing you, but it's enough to get you branded an outcast. For many that's as good as death. But not me. I know how to get by on my own.”

Adan ate the last of his soup. Though his host was an outcast there was still little reason to trust him. The brand on his forehead was real, but it wouldn't be the first time an outcast did something to try and get back in the good graces of the Church. At least he spoke with enough bitterness to be convincing, but it was better to be cautious than simply trust them based on one conversation.

“How did you end up in the river?” asked Gan after the silence had grown uncomfortably long. For a hermit he was talking a lot. Maybe he had some bottled up need to hear another humans voice.

“I was chased by some villagers,” said Adan. There was no reason to hide that fact, though he decided it was best not to tell the man he'd killed two kids to start it all. Best he thought it was because of the eyes. “I made the mistake of going to town to buy some fresh bread with money I'd gotten. They found me out.” He also decided it was best to not tell how he'd gotten the money.

“So they cornered you and the river was your only escape?”

Adan nodded. “I had a log to keep me afloat, but then the rapids came and I lost it all. Even the food I'd bought.”