SGE His Guarded Heart (Prequel to His Darkened Heart)

Chapter 18 Never Enough

"No matter how many times you say it, it may never be enough, Krushem."
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Chapter 18 Never Enough

Hours ago, Krushem had been on the brink of death, only to have awoken. He hadn't asked to be saved, and yet he had been.

Now, hours later, Krushem's hands were tied behind his back by rope whilst his captor herded him forward. He didn't know how long the two of them had been walking for, further and further away from Kewinsky's bar and into the nearest town of DarkMare, a fairly sized trade village outside of the Kingdom of FoxWood.

The man hadn't waited for Krushem to adjust or protest to this new position before the man forced Krushem to walk, leaves crunching beneath the man's boots and twigs scraping against Krushem's bare feet.

"Get moving!" The man bellowed, and Krushem felt the man's hand against his back before he was shoved forward. The force of it sent Krushem stumbling, and he fell to his knees.

Krushem spun around, as if to give the man a piece of his mind. But it wasn't as if he was in any position to do so, especially considering his hands were bound behind his back.

Krushem's captor glared back at Krushem, and before Krushem could say anything, the man grabbed ahold of Krushem's arms and hauled him onto his feet. Just the man's thick fingers curling around his arms sent a stab of searing pain through Krushem's wrists. If the man's fingernails dug further down his arms, he'd threaten to open Krushem's stitches.

The man's ironclad, brutal grip was a stark contrast against Elaine's gentle, nurturing touch when she tended to Krushem, and Krushem couldn't help but wonder if Elaine would save him this time. Part of him hoped that she had finally heeded his demands to just leave him the hell alone and give him the peace he wanted. Yet, another part of Krushem stubbornly refused to believe Elaine would just leave him like this after having saved him more than once.

Gosh, what in the hell was wrong with him?

Perhaps being sober had made him foolish and weak. That had to be it. And If only he had cut his wrists more deeper, perhaps he wouldn't be in this predicament now.

The man kept his hands on Krushem's arms, shoving him forward and forcing Krushem to stumble along past the shops and structures lining the main roads of DarkMare. The town was quiet but Krushem could hear voices and music emitting from nearby buildings.

Eventually, after taking a few turns, Krushem found that the man was guiding down a back road littered with trash and crawling with dirtied men who were occupied sharpening their weapons.

Through an alley they went before they came to a rickety metal door at the end of the alley.

The man used one free hand to rasp his knuckles against the metal doorframe and waited a few seconds before the door cracked open slightly, just enough for an eye to peek from the darkness.

"It's Dorinsky," the man said.

The very sound of the name seemed to be enough of a satisfactory greeting and without a verbal response, the door opened fully. Krushem stumbled through the threshold, the man close behind before the metal door clanged shut behind them.

Krushem found himself in a wide, dingy room. Circular wooden tables with leather chairs seated groups of people doing various things such as dealing cards and discussing business deals. On one side of the room, the brick wall was lined with shelves and on those shelves were various items, including an impressive collection of weapons from swords, scythes, knives, hatchets, magical totems, and more.

Krushem's captor took the lead at the front this time, seeming comfortable enough to not keep an eye on Krushem's back, and Krushem was grateful that the man's grip on his arms had left. Eyes turned to Krushem and his captor as his captor—Dorinsky—led him towards the back of the room.