‘Why did it have to be so hot? Literally the worst day of my life and the city decides to turn into a fucking furnace!’

  The shuffling of worn cloth and the slap of bare feet against the cobblestone was the background music to what was feeling like his funeral instead of the most important birthday of his life. 16 years on this plane of mortal existence has marked him a man and should have been one of the biggest steps on a path to self-determination. Instead, he was number thirty something or the other in line with hundreds of crooks on their way to the mines or the woods up north to work till death or until their sentence has been completed.

  In some ways he always knew it was a possibility he'd end up here. Ankles and wrist chained, dehydrated, hungry and most certainly going to die and yet… he hoped that he would be different. That his end wouldn’t be as a branded vagabond sentenced to work till death for his kingdom in some far away place despite his unsavory doings. He would think to himself that his wrongdoings compared to others was so small, infinitesimal that death wouldn’t come knocking until he was at least thirty. He’s killed less than ten people, all of whom were wretches who were trying to kill him first and he never rejoiced.

  He has lied, stolen, pickpocketed and ran numbers and drugs. Gambling and fucking outside of the sanctity of matrimony, drinking hard liquor and living as hedonistically as one as poor as he was could but the king kills and marries a new women every 5 years and has a host of noble bastards parading around the kingdom as knight and squire. The local bailiff cheats on his wife by way of sodomy with striking young men as much as possible, he knows because the bastard offered him coin for some “heavy goodnights” more than once. Yet, they weren’t in line, shackled in the middle of city square to be sent to die.

  His crime you may ask.

  Public disturbance.

  Drunken youthful revelry has led him to his end. He above all else understands how unfair a sentence like this is. Being sent off to an unregulated mine or lumberyard in the wild north was an excessive punishment by the locality. Getting drunk, singing merry, hitting on a pretty gal and winning a fight against another boy for flirting with the pretty gal was a story as old as time; it’s just that when said pretty girl was the daughter of an ambitious and very wealthy merchant of common stock and said boy that lost the fight was the son of a knight whose father was the fifth son of a baron. Well, it was either the local bailiff and head city guard or him. He very obviously made a delightful sacrificial lamb. When the guard came, he thought he would be thrown in a cell for at least 2 days and hit with a fine that would take 6 lunar cycles to pay to ease bruised egos but as the information trickled down to him, he realized he was well and truly fucked.

  No dinner under the stars, long looks at the market or extra ale in his cup. Just fucked. And the girl wasn’t even that pretty.

  2 weeks in the cells was horrid but this slow meandering line was worse. If the bailiff offered him a cup of ale right now, he’d drop to his knees and give him what for! Gods above! He doesn’t find men attractive in any sense but with how dry his throat is he would…

  “Dorcas Alaric Mallorcas! To the front!”

  So lost in his misery he didn’t notice that one of the three Arbiters were free to send him off to the great beyond. With a sigh he shuffled over to the well-dressed man.

  “A commoner with a middle and last name… that’s incredibly rare.”

  “My father was a soldier in the king’s army for the last war and took on the name of his destroyed village of Mallorca. Alaric was my mother’s father name, and I have my mother’s name of Dorcas.”

  “Your mother had a decent class boy? And your father’s class?”

  “My mother was an Herbalist and my father’s class was Adept Spearman sir.”

  The Arbiter, who seemed to be in his forties by the gray in his hair looked at him up and down for longer than what could have been described as decent by anyone’s measure. He silently cursed his thoughts from earlier. The thirst had driven him mad! If the Gods or Great Spirits heard his cries from earlier, then they should just forget them!

  “You speak in yesterday’s boy. Both of your parents are no longer flesh and blood?” A nod of confirmation was given but with the raised eyebrow he decided not to push his luck. This was the longest time that any of the Arbiters spoke with anyone and he could only believe this was not a bad thing.

  “My parents are from the West and were moving here to the city for better fortune. With the war being over there wasn’t much work for a spearman in the smaller localities so they made their way to this city. They were accosted by a sizeable force of bandits that sent my father to the higher planes and severely wounded my pregnant mother. She made it to the city with only a donkey and her life and died soon after giving birth to me. My father was named Lysander Mallorcas and my mother Dorcas, the wife of Lysander. I grew up in an orphanage run by the Sisters of Holiest Light that burned down some three years ago.”

  “Hmm. Age and crime?”

  “Ten and six today sir. And my crime is Public Disturbance.”

  The Arbiter’s nib stopped mid-air, and his eyes slowly met his. Dorcas held his breath as a silence made even more uncomfortable by the sideways looks being sent his way and the stifling summer heat.

  “Are you saying that you have been sentenced to 10 years hard labor in the mines or lumberyards for disturbing the public?”

  Dorcas’s anxiety only allowed a shaky nod.

  “Where were you disturbing the public?”

  “Uh… um in front of a tavern called Sister’s Wish in Badway sir.”

  It was silent for a beat before the Arbiter started to chuckle and then outright belly laugh. If people were curious before then they were certainly intrigued now. Dorcas didn’t understand what was so funny about his misfortunes, but he felt it might be safer to at least crack a smile. It took a while for the Arbiter to calm down enough to speak and when he did, Dorcas found hope blooming in his chest.

  “It seems you stepped on someone’s toes dear Dorcas Alaric Mallorcas, son of a war veteran and humble herbalist. I arbitrate on behalf of King Nyhmnos and uphold his laws you see, and it is unlawful to send someone to the mines for a charge of public disturbance. If I stamped this contract with my seal and you somehow survived, I might find myself in more trouble than what it is worth to deflate whatever peacocks’ ego you’ve bruised. You also seem to be unaware of your rights as the son of someone who served in the war unsurprisingly.”

  “Rights sir?”

  “Tell you what. You are going to go back to the cells for the night and I will be by tomorrow morning to see what we’ll do with you. But it will not be the mines or the cold northern woods for you.”

  The Arbiter must’ve seen that he was about to start jumping for joy and said quickly; “No hooting or hollering in the square boy. I must do some research. My name is Arbiter Gawain Teklas, and I may be able to save your life.”

  A single hand gesture had one of the city’s guards scrambling over and a few whispered words had his ankles and wrist unshackled and he was frog walked over to a wagon and told not to do anything stupid. In less than five minutes he was on his way back to the cells and he couldn’t have been happier about it.

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  Dorcas sat up against the wall keeping one eye on his cell mate. The guy was a snaggle tooth pock-marked degenerate who kept giving him “the eye” so he found he couldn’t sleep long or well with him around. Fortunately, the guards came by to drag the creep out of their shared cell to beat the snot out of him so he could sneak in an hour or two then. Whatever the fuck he did had incensed all the guards enough that they left him alone for the most part, but this was all besides the fact that he was still sitting in prison three days after the conversation he thought would set him free. Dorcas didn’t know why he allowed his hopes to be dashed like this, but he was happy he wasn’t shackled to a real vagrant in a shaky wagon heading to the frozen north. Rotting in the local jail wasn’t ideal but lesser of two evils and all that. He was ready to let his mind wander to a happier place when he heard the baton of a guard banging on the bars. He and his roommate jumped to attention though his roommate’s lecherous smile turned into a terrified frown.

  “You guys’ can’t beat me again! The captain said so! I ain’t moving!”

  “Shut the fuck up you bile sucking leper! You’ll soon be seeing the hanging tree, and the Captain wants you to be cognizant. That’s right you kiddie diddler, you’ll hang soon, and we all want you to be aware of when its gonna happen!” The kiddie diddler sputtered in horror and Dorcas said the first thing that came to mind.

  “You put a child rapist in a cell with me!?”

  “Aw shut it! If we put him in with the others, he wouldn’t have lasted a day, so you got babysitting duties. Sides’ you’re a little too old for him.”

  “The way this pock marked assholes been grinning at me says otherwise!”

  The guard went silent and gave him a once over and smiled, “Yeah you are a little fresh faced.”

  Dorcas held back a massive shiver and replied hotly, “Not funny.”

  “Wasn’t trying to be you halfway crook. But I ain’t here to chat you mooks up. I’m here to escort you to a meeting with an Arbiter of all people. You better mind your manners too; those types don’t take mouthy guttersnipes sweetly.”

  Dorcas didn’t need to be forced so he shot up and towards the guard who snickered nastily. He was gripped firmly on the shoulder, and he prepared himself to be frog marched to wherever Arbiter Gawain was. After closing and locking the cell they turned and started to walk away before the guard stopped and turned back towards the cell gate.

  “Peytr… before I forget your public hanging is scheduled in 3 hours. So don’t expect food or drink. Me and the boys really enjoyed the past 2 days with you but for now it’s goodbye. Don’t worry though, the parents of the little boy you lured into the fields and ruined will be there to see you off to the lowest levels of Heyl. Enjoy these three hours scum, they’re your last.”

  With that they were off. Dorcas would have loved to see the face of the monster while he was being told he would be dead soon, but the guards long legs ate up the distance to their destination. Dorcas thanked anything that was willing to listen that he was born right in the head and not craven like Peytr. The guards happy whistling chilled him.

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  Dorcas was sitting in a room with the head of the city guard and his favorite Arbiter in the world. He looked around quickly taking in the office with a small amount of curiosity. It seemed guard captains lived well.

  “Boy. You smell horrific.”

  “Forgive me sir, my golden tub wasn’t prepared on time for our meeting.”

  Dorcas immediately regret everything he had just said and from the twisted visage of the head captain he was sure he was going to get an earful. Or a beating he may not survive. The light chuckling of the Arbiter knocked the winds out the captains’ sails, that didn’t stop him from getting a dirty look.

  “You have a point young Dorcas. I shall concede you that. But I’m sure you are curious as to why you sat days longer than I promised, yes?”

  “Yes, sir I am.”

  “Right then. The young noble you beat, which is admirable really since he was Awakened recently, his name is Lucas Abyle. Son of Marcas Abilye, the son of Gabriel Abyle. Gabriel is the Baron of a very new Barony to the west, and he has something to prove. As you can imagine, kicking the shit out of his grandson in front of a wealthy prospect was a spate of bad luck you could not have prepared for. So, our friend here, Captain Philos was “convinced” to throw the book at you and your local bailiff by the name of Samson bowed out of the conflict respectfully. Sending you to the north on trumped up charges is very illegal, and no decent Arbiter would ever sign off on it, which is why you were sent to be stamped and sealed on a very busy day. Clever Philos.”

  The guard Captain refused to make eye contact with the smiling Arbiter and Dorcas refused to look at the cowardly captain who could chop him to bits if he wanted to.

  “My investigation took longer because there was an unnecessary amount of back and forth and posturing as well as information gathering. Needless to say, I have good and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

  “Bad sir.”

  “Unfortunately, the Baron, his son and his grandson refuse to let this go completely and I find it’s best not to make enemies, even amongst the lower nobility. You need to have some form of punishment. The three weeks spent here weren’t enough to assuage them, so you have two choices, and one is better than the other. The first choice is 2 years in prison here under the mindful care of the guard and their captain.

  Dorcas swallowed a snort of derision. Mindful his arse.

  “Or 2 years doing contracted work for an “honorable entity”. The guard captain was persuaded to consider you for the guard so that’s one entity. The Abiye’s are willing to contract you to their estates as well but that is just around about way to kill you dead and the third entity with open availability is the Adventurer’s Guild.”

  Gawain chose this time to pick up a teacup that was sitting on the captain’s desk and take a sip. His face twisted into a grimace. “This is disgusting.”

  “The good news sir?”

  “Is entirely dependent on you making the smart choice. Which is the Adventurer’s Guild.”

  “Sir I don’t think I can. I don’t know how to read or write worth a damn and I am not Awakened and don’t have the funds to pay for an Awakening ritual.”

  “Ah! Here’s where all my investigative work comes in. All veterans of the war get a yearly stipend. The longer one serves and the more accolades one receives, the higher the stipend. Your father served for 12 years and earned a Pearl accolade.”

  “Pearl accolade…”

  “Yes, the Pearlescent Accolade of Noblesse Valor is given to a commoner from a noble house with the blessings of the King. Your father saved the life of a Count in an early and decisive battle in the war. And his decade plus more of service earned him a yearly stipend of 5 gold coins a year. In the face of his death, his nearest family would receive it unless decided by will to go to some other fortunate soul. So, I found his charter of service, which mentioned his stipend, then I found his writ of marriage to your mother Dorcas. I then found the records of your birth at the Temple of Light to confirm you are the right Dorcas Alaric Mallorcas. Now you may be wondering like any smart lad, ‘Where the fuck is my money’; worry not, I’ve already found out.”

  The captain and Dorcas openly gaped at the smug Arbiter who seemed to be awfully proud.

  “The orphanage was using your stipend to take care of you according to one Sister Enas, but I figured you wouldn’t be living in a run-down apartment in Badway and illiterate, unaware and resorting to vagrancy to get by. The Sister broke down of course. She used your stipend to help the orphanage and when you aged out four years ago, she decided to keep using your stipend to help the Church and those less fortunate.”

  “WHAT? But I’m!”

  “One of the less fortunate!? Yes, I know! I still can’t believe she used that line. Especially because the Sister owned many silken veils and a Threshian hand mirror encrusted with moonstones and pearls. Don’t worry, she was de-frocked and will be facing a long prison sentence, in the north of all places. She fainted and everything, HAH!”

  Dorcas couldn’t find it in himself to join in on the merriment. That bitch Sister Enas was always looking down on them and she would say they had no futures while she used his money to ensure he didn’t have a chance at a decent one. As Dorcas stewed in his righteous anger the guard captain fidgeted with his half plate armor.

  “After discovering her abhorrent behavior the Arch Priest wanted to make things right in a quick and orderly manner and decided to pay you back out of the Churches coffers. You are 16 years old and owed 5 gold coins a year, don’t bust your brain trying to do the arithmetic because I’ve already done it. You are now the proud owner of 80 gold coins by right and after making it clear that you are owed more than gold being that due to the Sisters selfishness you’re in a situation that could’ve been avoided if you were afforded all the opportunity of a boy who grew up on a decent stipend… well the Arch Priest felt it was only right to sell all of the Sisters expensive worldly goods plus a little extra. Did I say 80 gold coins? I meant 120.”

  Dorcas had to fight to hold on to consciousness. He could buy a stead of at least 5 acres further out in the countryside or a horse and buggy or rent the nicest room in the nicest tavern on this side of the city for a year or, or… oh.

  “Yes, I can see you’ve come to the right conclusion Dorcas. With this amount we can pay the 40 gold for a very good Awakening ritual, and you’d still have more than enough money to live. Or buy equipment to say adventure for 2 years.”

  “Damn, you’re good.” Captain Philos looked breathless at the Arbiter’s work.

  Dorcas was breathless.

  “Sir I-I don’t know what to say. I would have never imagined something like this happening to me.”

  “Oh, you can simply say thank you, but it is an Arbiters job to uphold the Kings law and to be honest with you, young Dorcas, this was the most fun I have had in years. Now all I do is sign things or stamp them. All so boring but this was a breath of fresh air! You are free of this place, and you will be escorted to the Guild to sign a contract which is in no way predatory, I made sure of it. Then you will be taken to get Awakened, and your adventuring begins. All in a few days’ work but hopefully agreeable to you.”

  Dorcas nodded stiffly and with a clap of his hands the Arbiter who was all teeth popped out of his seat and motioned to the captain who wasted no time signing papers and handing them to the happiest Arbiter in the kingdom.

  “Now Dorcas, me and two guards will serve as your escort to ensure you make it to the guild to sign that contract and get properly punished for the next two years. No funny business.”

  Dorcas was unable to hold his questioning back any longer. “Forgive me for possibly sounding ungrateful but why did you do all of this? Surely you have more important things or people to arbitrate for?”

  “Dorcas, I did this because I could, and it was easy. I became an Arbiter after the war because I saw what lawlessness pushed men to and I could not live in a world where those behaviors were running amok. Fouling up society and destroying lives. 3 days’ worth of my time is nothing compared to your life. Plus, I had fun. It was a win- win situation for me but the end of the road for you if I simply did nothing. I only hope you take this second chance at life and do something worthwhile with it.”

  Dorcas followed behind the man who saved his life and decided to continue watering the seed of hope in his chest in the hopes of running across more decent folk like the Arbiter. Hearing wailing from behind him he turned to see Peytr being dragged bodily by two giddy guards and smartly put a Mithril cage around his little flower of hope, just in case.

  ***This is an Author's Note. Read if you want.***

  -Things don't start picking up until chapter 3 and even then, it's not immediate sex, murder and explosions. By chapter 5 our MC will be over the age of 24 and his main goals will be laid out and the adventure begins because as well all know, long term goals take a while to come to fruition. I tagged this with Anti-hero lead because Dorcas is a product of his upbringing and will not be slaying dragons or freeing countries from tyrannical leadership just cause. Not a murderhobo but he is no Naruto, Izuku, Goku or any other popular Shounen MC. When I say no romance, I mean it guys. No girlfriends or wives or love interest. No longing, no pining, no yearning or love triangles. Sex, lust and debauchery are on the table however, but it won't be a coitus fest. I know people love romantasy but I don't, and I won't write something I don't enjoy. Lastly, I am a person with a life outside of writing and will likely taking time away from writing. Don't expect anything like a schedule from me. PS, I love seeing people's ideas and thoughts more than I care about likes, favorites or follows. SO! YAP AWAY! Stay safe and make good decisions.