Chapter 2: A boy named Delmar

Sometimes life takes the strangest turns. Sometimes you were playing with your friends in one moment, and then you find a treasure that makes you famous across the lands. Sometimes you grow up in a slum, only to then find out you've been royalty all along. And sometimes ... you grow up in a small village, never causing trouble, always listening to your parents, only to become a fugitive and known traitor in your country after deciding that you didn't want to fight in a war that took your friends from you.

Myrin was in that sort of situation now. After Castrin's death he had decided to leave the military. He wasn't willing to die for his country like his friend did. He wanted other things. But he knew that in times of war there wasn't any chance he could just leave the military. So Myrin used the change in guard shifts to sneak out of the camp. He didn't tell anyone where he was going or what he was doing. And so he was marked a war criminal and a traitor even though he never did anything to justify those two names.

Now Myrin was hiding between refugees. These people had left their homes just in time before the war reached their doorsteps. He had gotten rid of anything that could show him to be a former member of the military and instead had ... acquired clothing that would fit in with the other refugees. For now he didn't care where they were heading. But he knew they had already left his home country behind. Their destination apparently was a small villages just behind the border between the two kingdoms. Myrin hoped that no one would look for him so far away from home. But even if, he didn't plan on staying there too long.

Most people on the back of the cart Myrin was one where staying quiet. Most seemed as if they had lost any hope for their future. And most of them were women and children. Of course. The man had been send to war after all. One woman was humming a lullaby to her child, though just when it looked like the child would fall asleep it rubbed its eyes and asked its mother another question.

»Why did we have to go away from home?«

»Some men don't like each other much and their conflict was too close to home. It's safer this way.«

»But I don't want to leave home...«

»We can't always get what we want, dear. Sometimes we have to take the things as they come.«

»But ... why do those men have to drag everyone into their conflict?«

Myrin watched as the mother was at a loss for words. Why did they have to do that? He didn't know an answer either. Because they were hungry for power? Because they didn't care? Maybe it was one of those reasons. Or maybe there was no reason. Maybe they simply enjoyed the bloodshed.

His eyes trailed off, looking out the back of the cart where he was sitting, staring out towards the horizon. Just a weeks ago his life was normal. His mother was still alive and kept him safe from his father's plans to send him to the military. After her death there wasn't anyone who'd do that for him. And now he couldn't ever return to that life. Not that there was much to return to anyway. With his mother dead there was only his father. And he wasn't a man that Myrin wanted to see ever again.

Now Myrin had other plans. For now he had to wait until this caravan reached its destination. His next steps would most likely involve working his ass off to get some money. With that money he could buy supplies. And then he could finally head off on his journey. He didn't know where it was supposed to lead him. But that didn't matter, as long as the stories he experienced on the way made it worthwile.

A part of him also wanted to find his biological parents. He was fairly certain that both of them were of elven ancestory. Finding two elves in this massive world was almost impossible but he had questions that he wanted answered. Why did they give him up? Did they hate him? Are they even still alive? Why did they have to give him to a human family? Myrin lost count of all the times he got called 'knife-ear' or other names referring to his heritage by other children and aduls.

But he didn't want to waste his life just searching for the past. Preferably he hoped to find a group of adventurers he could join. Castrin's stories were still vivid in his mind and he hoped to one day be able to tell such stories too. He knew he couldn't just go on adventures by himself. He was far too much of a coward for that. And unskilled in fighting as well. He knew a little magic but even that wasn't anything to brag with.

A soft sigh escaped Myrin's lips. The future didn't look to bright for him. But he was still alive. He got to see the sun slowly rise beyond the horizon again. And he would make the most of that life.

---

They finally reached the small village that was their destination. Though Myrin would have called it a town even from what little he could see. One after another the refugees got off the caravan and after helping an older woman down, Myrin also jumped off.

His eyes started to dart around in wonder. This town seemed peaceful, despite how close it was to the border. He didn't know how things would turn out, but it seemed as if he could hide here well enough for the time being.

As his plan started to take a clearer shape in his mind, a commotion got him to pay attention to reality again. Supposedly the town guard was going to sort the refugees into districts. But there wasn't a single guard around. Instead what Myrin saw as he moved closer to the commotion, was a group of armed thugs. They ripped anything valuable from the refugees. Jewellery, coins. Anything that seemed to be of any worth at all.

A dark frown appeared on Myrin's face. He didn't have anything that could be considered valuable. But his first impression of this town seemed to have been a wrong one after all. He watched silently as the bandits continued grabbing whatever seemed to have any worth to them.

Move.

He looked down at his hands, not realising when he had started clenching them but as he released them they were white as snow, only slowly taking back colour as blood flooded back into them. There wasn't anything he could do. So he had to keep control of his emotions. He couldn't lash out. Anyhting he would achieve by that was most likely a beating for himself.

Don't just stand there. Move.

He was just a child himself. There wasn't anything he could do about this situation. And he didn't know any of these people. They were strangers to him. Strangers who most likely would've belonged to those who bullied him back in his home village.

You are no better than them if you just stand and watch. Move.

Maybe if he had some power he could do something. But right now he was powerless. He didn't have any weapons and he wasn't strong enough to fight with his bare hands. All he would achieve would be his own bones getting broken most likely.

You know how to fight. You were taught how to fight. Move.

But he didn't remember anything of those studies. Why would he. After all he hated every minute of it and ...

You are just making excuses because you are scared, Myrin.

Of course he was making excuses. Of course he was scared. But then why ... why was there a part of him, a voice in his head, that kept telling him to risk his life for complete strangers.

Because you are a kind boy, Myrin. And because you know it's the right thing to do. Now, move!

He didn't know why but his feet started moving, the voice in his head, his ... consciousness? ... was stronger than his common sense. He opened his mouth to say something as the bandits grabbed for a woman's coin pouch. But just as the word 'stop' was leaving his mouth, the man tumbled back as a foot got burried into his face.

With a dump thump the man fall back onto the ground, a boy, not much older than Myrin, standing there his back turned to the refugees. Myrin trailed his eyes over the boy, his clothing looking much cleaner and neater than any of the refugees. He wasn't one of them. He looked like he lived well enough. Why did he ...

»I suggest you scram before the guards get here. Oh look. I think I can already see them.«

There was something in the boy's voice ... Myrin couldn't quite make out what it was. But the bandits who had been all to happy to plunder and rob a moment ago, now started leaving. The last of them making it out just in time before the town guards arived.

As the guards started sorting people into districts and houses, Myrin could just stand at the side quietly. He was staring down at his hands. At his own inability to do anything. It seemed so easy when that boy did it. And he wasn't much older than he himself was. So, why was it so hard for him?

---

When Myrin finally looked back up again, most of the refugees were gone. The town guards had started leaving as well. Once again Myrin managed to get left behind. But he still didn't move. He had sat down on the ground, his back to the wall of a house. He couldn't shake his own inability. Just as he was about to drift off deeper into his own thoughts, a shadow fell on him. And as he looked up at the person who that shadow belonged to, he recognised the boy from before.

The boy smiled. God, how Myrin wished he could look that confident all the time. For a moment the boy looked away from him, as if seeing if anyone was still around. Did he want to rob him? Of course not. Myrin clearly didn't have anything valuable. And the boy stopped the bandits just a little while ago. And then he looked back at the boy on the ground, still smiling.

»That was pretty brave of you. But you probably shouldn't do things that are beyond you.«

Myrin could only stare. Brave? Things that were beyond him? What was this boy even talking about. The smile dropped off the boy's face for a moment as he tilted his head to one side, staring at Myrin curiously.

»I'm not wrong. You wanted to step in there, right? Just before I did.«

How could he know that. He couldn't know that. But despite himself and his clear reasons for why he shouldn't trust people, Myrin opened his mouth to speak.

»I ... was.«

»Great! I wasn't wrong then. That was pretty brave.«

»I didn't do anything ...«

»Maybe not. But sometimes intentions are worth more than actions.«

»Even if I would've done anything ... I couldn't have accomplished anything.«

»That's why I said you shouldn't do things that are beyond you. That was dangerous and stupid. If I wouldn't have interferred those man wouldn't have been easy on you.«

Myrin wasn't quite sure why but it almost seemed as if the boy's gaze was pointing at his ears. So even here there was that kind of discrimination. The smile was back on the boy's face and he held out his hand to Myrin who was still sitting on the ground.

»I'm Delmar! It's nice to meet you!«

He stared at the boy's, at Delmar's outstretched hand, contemplating wether to take it or not. Would this boy sell him out to the military if he found out he had fled war efforts? Would he sell him off to those rumoured slave traders because of his heritage? As Myrin's thoughts started twisting and turning into even darker directions, he suddenly felt a hand grasping his wrist, pulling his arm up and ... putting his hand into Delmar's.

»It's a greeting here. You take someone's hand and shake it.«

He was left dumfounded. Only able to stare at the boy who was still smiling at him. What was ... wrong with this boy? He had never met someone like this. Even Castrin had never been this forward with trying to force a friendship or acquaintaneship or something along those lines. Just who ... was this boy?

»Are you going to tell me your name too or will I have to think of a nickname for you?«

His eyes narrowed at that. He knew what nickname someone like that boy would come with. The most likely one was knife-ear. As Myrin was about to speak up against a nickname, Delmar had already started talking again.

»Alright. Then from this day on you are ... Bob!«

»I'm ... not Bob.«

»Well, I can't keep calling you 'you'. That's just bound to get confusing.«

»Why would you need to keep calling me anything in the first place ...«

»The guards already left. You didn't get assigned to anywhere to stay at, right? It's gonna rain tonight so I wouldn't recommend staying out.«

Myrin grumbled a little. Delmar wasn't wrong. He had completely been lost in thought while the guards where here. He had lost his chance to get a good start in this town. Already his plans where messed up. Because ... because of Delmar. Myrin will frown darkly, staring up at Delmar, who despite that will still be smiling brightly.

»I've got some space at my place! So, why don't you stay with me, Bob?«

»I told you I'm not Bo- ... wait what?«

Myrin forgot how to even glare as he stared at the boy with wide eyes, his mouth slowly opening and closing but no words coming out.

»Why would you ... «

»You need a place to stay. And someone who risks their life helping others despite being totally incapable can't be a bad person!«

»I ... feel like I was just insulted.«

The laugh that left Delmar's mouth after that somehow even got Myrin to smile faintly. He didn't know when he last smiled like that. Maybe at least for now he could stay with this boy.

»Myrin.«

»Bless you?«

»That's my name. I told you. I'm not Bob. I'm Myrin.«

Now it was Delmar's turn to look surprised. Though the look didn't stick for long. Instead an even brighter smile showed on his face as he pulled Myrin back up on his feet with both hands.

»It's nice to meet you, Myrin!«

»It's ... not too terrible to meet you too ... Delmar.«

---

Delmar brought Myrin back to his house. It wasn't big by any means and only seemed to be two rooms. There was just barely enough space for two people. But it was still a home despite that. Myrin started looking around curiously. He couldn't find any trace of an adult. Did Delmar live by himself? He couldn't be that much older than him. Apprently Delmar caught his curious gaze, as he spoke up.

»My parents are both dead. So, I'm on my own.«

»Oh. I ... am sorry.«

»It's fine. Well, it's not. But it's nothing for you to feel sorry about. Hungry?«

Delmar pointed at something that looked remotely edible and Myrin was about to decline, but the growl of his stomach got ahead of his words. The other boy let out a chuckle before serving up some of the food, sitting on the ground with Myrin following suit. He carefully poked the food, which earned him another chuckle form Delmar before he carefully gave it a try.

»Wow ... it's surprisingly good!«

»Now I feel like I'm being insulted ... gee. It may not look the best but I'm actually a pretty good cook.«

Myrin didn't answer. Instead he started shoveling food into his mouth in record time. He hadn't realised just how hungry he was until he got to eat. The two boys ate in silence, Myrin dropping backwards onto his back when he finished, letting out a soft sigh.

»That was good ...«

He'll stare at the ceiling, wondering what to do form now on, while Delmar will take the plates and clean them, eventually speaking up again, his back turned to Myrin still.

»If you like it here you can have the house. I won't need it anymore.«

He hadn't expected that. Myrin sat up, curiously boring holes with his eyes into Delmar's back.

»Are you moving somewhere better?«

A pause followed that question before it got interrupted by a chuckle. Delmar turning his head to look at Myrin with a small smile.

»Not exactly. But I won't need it anymore. And you don't have anywhere to stay right?«

He stayed silent. It wasn't possible he could be that lucky. And even if it was. What was Delmar going to do without a place to stay?

»You look like you want to ask something, Myrin. You shouldn't hold back with questions, you know? If you don't ask every question that comes to your mind, you're gonna miss out on knowledge.«

»Why won't you need this house anymore?«

Now it was Delmar's turn to go silent. He turned his head away, finishing to clean up the small kitchen like corner before sitting down across from Myrin. He hadn't expected to see such an expression on Delmar's face, he had seemed far too mature. But as he sat down his eyes seemed to be sparkling, the smile on his face looking challenging and excited.

»I'm going on a great adventure and I don't plan on coming back.«

»An ... adventure ...?«

»Don't you think all this conflict in strife in our time is pointless? I'm old enough to get conscripted into our country's military. And if I stay here that will surely happen.«

Myrin let out a quiet snort. What Delmar was talking about wasn't unknown to him. But he stayed quiet.

»My father used to tell me stories. Lot's of them. And I loved hearing them. Every night I begged him for more. For something new. And ... when I got older just listening to the stories didn't feel satisfying anymore.«

Delmar looked at his open hands, a bright smile on his face.

»Have you never listened to a story of a great adventurer and thought ... I want to be that person?«

He had. He had never wanted to be the big shining hero. But he had always wanted to be the person who first got to tell an adventurer's story.

»That's what I want. I don't want to live my life just living for others and hearing stories about great adventurers. I want to be the one who makes those stories. And if I become strong enough ... maybe I will even have the power to stop such pointless conflicts.«

Myrin's eyes widened ever so slightly, clinging to Delmar's every single word. He wasn't that much older than him but yet he had such high ambitions. After a moment, Delmar looked back up at Myrin, looking even more determined than before.

»Have you ever heard of the dungeons, Myrin?«

»I ... just a little.«

»No one has ever returned from them alive. There's no way to know what's inside.«

»Yeah ...«

»And that's why I'm going there.«

Without any second thought Myrin shot up onto his feet, shaking his head vehemently-

»What?! That's suicide! No one has ever returned from the dungeons. What makes you think you will?!«

»I'm just that lucky.«

»That has nothing to do with luck! They send soldiers there! Adventurers! Many skilled people! You are just ... just one boy, Delmar. If you go there, you'll die.«

What was wrong with this boy? Spouting such ridiculous things. At this point dungeon's were known to be death traps. Yes, Myrin was curious what was inside them too but ... he was a coward. But Delmar was still smiling. Myrin's outburst didn't seem to have bothered him at all.

»My mother always used to say I'm loved by the gods. And I believe in my skills. I'm going to come back.«

»That's ... stupid. Suicide.«

His words had lost any convincing power behind them. Loved by the gods? Believe in his skills? Myrin was certain that Delmar was some sort of dillusionist. Maybe the loss of his parents had that effect. But why then ...

You could go with him...

Why did that voice keep popping up in his head? Delmar got up from where he was sitting, putting his hand's on Myrin's shoulders.

»Either way. I'm glad I met you, Myrin. I'm definitely not going to need this place anymore so ... do you want it?«

Yes. That was an easy answer right? A nice place to stay. In a safe town ... it was such an easy answer. But why then ...

Why did he find himself standing at the entrance of a dungeon a few hours later?! He stared up at the massive tower, all colour disappearing from his face as a voice brought him back to the real world.

»You sure you want to come along, Myrin?«

»No. I don't.«

»Then ...«

»Let's just go before I change my mind.«

For a moment Delmar just stared at his now companion with his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something else. But then he just shook his head, his usual smile appearing back on his face and turning to the dungeon. Myrin didn't know why, but as Delmar moved to enter the dungeon he followed him without hesitation.