Chapter One: Drowned in Scorn

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The rays of the bright sun illuminated the land from a cloudless azure sky as the village of Eir was filled with merchants and travelers on a heat-haze day. The standing buildings could be mistaken for old temples from afar with their coats of red and murals of gold.

With the main road blocked off, the village prospered from the street market and passing travelers. All seemed to go too well until a boy ran through the crowd, forcing it to split in a zigzag pattern as if the seas decided to part one morning. His messy, white as snow hair caused him to stand out from the other children in the crowd, along with his ragged clothes. His crimson-red eyes immediately struck fear into those around him while a loaf of bread was in his hands.

Not too far behind, three guards chased him. They wore light, leather armor over their everyday clothing along with a scimitar sheathed on their waist.

The boy quickly and carefully navigated his way through the crowded sea, running into an alley. He stuck the bread loaf in his mouth as he climbed the stacks of wooden boxes. As he reached the top, the local guards caught up and tried to climb as well. However, the boy nudged the top box over, causing it to come crashing down and toppling the pile onto his pursuers. He glanced back and took a bite out of the loaf. The boy laughed at them before running away on the black rooftop.

The captain was an older, bearded man seething with anger. He turned around and faced the other guards behind him. "Catch that boy! Pray Lord Tartarus helps us, our pride is on the line! If that accursed child gets away again, you can all kiss your jobs goodbye!" the old man yelled, causing his subordinates to salute and run back into the crowd.

Feeling confident that he wouldn't be captured, the boy ran from rooftop to rooftop. He sat down on the edge of a black rooftop with red accents. A large ornament of a golden dragon was behind him, overlooking the streets and giving him shade from the heavy sun.

He quickly took several bites out of the bread and let out a sigh of relief as his stomach growled loudly. As he was about to take another bite, he heard several footsteps come around the golden statue. The boy quickly stood up as the guards from earlier carefully moved around the statue with their swords drawn like a hunter cornering its prey. They slowly approached him, causing him to walk backward with his hands raised.

"Why can't you all just leave me alone?" he asked and felt something small was knocked off the roof. He glanced over his shoulder and found himself on the edge with no near rooftop to escape to.

"C'mon kid, don't make this any harder than it needs to be." one of the guards said in a stern voice.

"Oh, blah blah blah," he mocked them. "First, my name isn't 'kid'. It's Xander. Get it right for once, Buckethead. Secondly," he glanced over his shoulder once more and saw several horse-drawn carts carrying large piles of hay coming on the streets below. "I'm not going to let any of you chain me up to that wall again!" He jumped back off the black rooftop and into one of the passing carts.

The pursuers peeked over the edge, only to find Xander vanished from sight.

Surrounded by hay, Xander let out a sigh and clutched his left arm but winced at the slightest touch. He felt the cart come to a sudden stop. He peeked out from within the hay pile and carefully looked around. No one as far as he could see. Xander hopped out and patted down his clothes, removing any stray pieces of hay. Everything seemed fine until he felt something cold and metallic clamp around his wrist.

With a scimitar sheathed on their waist and leather armor strapped around their body, a guard walked by Xander as they tightly grasped a chain in their hand. Xander's gaze followed the chain to the clamp around his wrist as his face sank with fear. They tugged the chain, silently motioning to Xander that it's time to face the masses.

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