The Forsaken Hero

Dyson took Rasce’s offered hand, grunting as he struggled to his feet. Being pushed to the brink of death was extremely difficult on one’s body, and even though his wounds were healed, his body had yet to fully adjust to it. Taking a deep breath, and ran a hand over the smooth, unbroken skin of his chest before looking at me in wonder.

"Thank you," he said simply.

I blushed a bit, shifting awkwardly. "It...it was my fault. I’m sorry."

As I sought somewhere other than his sincere face to look, I caught sight of a glint of red steel beneath one of the cloaked corpses. Fable cocked his head curiously, trotting beside me as I approached and knelt beside the body.

A golden emblem had fallen out of the man’s pocket when he died, lying on the ground beside him. A tremble ran through me as I touched it, tracing over cold steel. It was fashioned in the shape of a rune, "wealth," with a sword stuck through it.

Rasce laid a hand over my shoulder, leaning over to peer at it. "Recognize it?" he asked slowly.

I flinched at his touch, and after a shallow breath, nodded. "There was a merchant wearing something like this in Westfall Village. H-he looked at me, and..." I trailed off, not entirely certain how to explain the feeling. How could someone who’d never been enslaved and tortured possibly understand the sheer terror inflicted by the gaze of a slaver?

"He looked at you?" Rasce asked skeptically. Suddenly his grip on my shoulder tightened and his eyes narrowed. "No, that’s not insignificant. Come, we need to go."

He snatched the emblem from my palm and placed it in his spatial treasure.

"Do you recognize it?" Dyson asked.

Rasce sighed long and hard before replying. "I’m afraid so, though it’s likely to be troublesome. It’s the symbol of the Unbroken Chain Trading Company. They’re relatively new to the area but considered a powerhouse and economic influence in most major cities of the Northern Continent. I’ll give you one guess as to their primary goods."