Weaver's Curse

Isaan was having a nice day, until he found himself surrounded by a group of highwaymen.

“Come on,” he groaned. “Do I seriously look like I have anything to steal?”

“Looks can be deceiving.” Their leader, a man missing both front teeth said, grinning.

“That sword looks worth stealing.” A bald woman in the group pointed out.

“Alright, toss it over.” Toothless ordered.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Isaan said.

Today, the sword was the only clue to his identity.

“Take it from him.” Toothless ordered.

He unsheathed it in one fluid movement as the bandits closed in on him.

He clubbed the nearest bandit upside the head with it, and the man fell. The bald woman slashed at him with a serrated knife. The strike tore through the shoulder of his shirt, but didn’t meet skin. He kicked at her, but missed.

The blow connected the leg of the woman standing beside her, and she grunted in pain.

Isaan narrowly avoided a second blow from the knife, only to receive a heavy blow to the back from a burly man wielding a wooden club. He staggered back, trying to breathe through the pain.

Isaan whirled, slashing the short man trying to creep up on him from behind across the face. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his face and sobbing.

“Kill him!” Baldy screamed. She, Toothless, the club wielder, and the woman he kicked earlier were the only ones left.

C’mon, Isaan, you can do this, he told himself.

He lunged at the woman with the injured leg and drove his sword into her leg. It hit bone, and he yanked it free. She gasped, and tried to limp away, collapsing after only a few steps

Toothless nodded to the Club-wielder, and he scooped her up and hurried off through the trees.

“It’s just the three of us now.” Isaan panted.

How hard did he hit me anyway? I feel like I’m trying to breathe in fire!

Baldy snorted, reached forward, and drove her knife into his stomach.

Isaan screamed.

“C’mon, let’s finish him off.” Toothless said.

“N...no...” Isaan whispered.

I cant die here; I haven’t even found them yet!

And then, Toothless and Baldy both collapsed, snoring peacefully.

What in the hell?

Strange as it was, Isaan wasted no time in limping off into the woods.

He pressed his shirt against the wound as hard as he could, but wet stickiness soaked through it, coating his hands. With trembling fingers, Isaan removed his shirt and tied it about his middle as tightly as he could.

Darkness already tinged the edges of his vision. He stopped for a moment, leaning heavily against a tree. Nausea rose in him, and he struggled to breathe his way through it.

I’m going to die out here, aren’t I?

He curled up on the ground, surprised to find himself accepting it.

Isaan woke up on a pallet, his wound bandaged and his shirt gone. Someone had cleaned the blood off of his sword and laid it down beside the pallet.

At least a day must have passed, because he remembered.

My name is Isaan Vef. I have two sisters. And I am named an enemy of the king.

But... which king?

“Hello?” he called. His voice sounded hoarse and tremulous.

“He’s awake!” someone whispered. “Someone fetch Mr. Hexing!”

A man that wore what Isaan thought might be merchant’s garb, though it seemed off for some reason, entered. Isaan realized that he was inside some sort of wagon.

“Where am I? And why?” Isaan asked.

“You are in my caravan. What’s your name, lad?” the man asked.

“Isaan. Isaan Vef.”

“You may call me Mr. Hexing.” The man said. “We found the bandit group, what was left of them, anyways. And then we followed the blood trail and found you. Did you defeat all of those brigands?”

“Ah, yes.” Isaan said.

“It just so happens that I am always on the lookout for more guards,” Mr. Hexing said. “Merchanting can be a dangerous business, and you seem to be skilled.”

“How do you know that I’m not one of the bandits?”

“As one of my stableboys pointed out, one of the corpses had been struck across the face with what would have had to be a sword, and you were the only person around that carried one.”

“I see.” Isaan said. “Where are you heading?”

“First, a city called Abesta. And after that, we’ll be travelling into the Zircon Kingdom.” Mr. Hexing said.

Come find me, a ghostly voice echoed in his ears. He’d first heard it when he’d woken up in the swamps of the Loann kingdom, with no memory, and no possessions but the clothes on his back and the sword.

He’d crossed half of the Reganne kingdom, with no clues to who had spoken to him. Could the secret lie in the Zircon kingdom?

“Alright, I’m in.” Isaan said.

“Excellent.” Mr. Hexing said. “We’ll discuss pay later. I’ll let you rest now.”

Not long after Hexing left, a gaggle of boys and girls crowded in.

“How are you feeling?” a cute girl that looked to be about his sister’s age asked.

My sister’s age... I have a sister? But how old is she? What’s her name?

He couldn’t picture anything but a blurred face, but he thought she would be around seventeen.

“As well as someone who’s recently been stabbed can.” Isaan said.

“Do you think he really killed all those bandits?” a boy, perhaps thirteen years old asked dully.

“You could try asking him that, Harry.” A boy around seventeen suggested.

“Some of them.” Isaan said.

A third boy, around his age, nineteen, spoke. “Impressive. I’ll feel better to be working with a warrior like him, not those old fat fucks Hexing hired back in the capital.”

“Dill! Don’t be rude!” the girl scolded.

“He’s just calling it like it is, Allie.” The seventeen year old said. “I’m Toby, by the way, stranger.”

“Isaan.”

“I’m Allie. That’s Dill, and that’s Harry.” The girl said. “We just thought we’d pop in and visit. Sorry my friends are so rude.”

“We’re not friends.” Harry said.

Dill smacked the back of his head. “Be nice to Allie or I’m using you for wolf bait.”

“Don’t scare him,” Allie said, shooting a glare at Dill.

“Hey! I’m just trying to defend you!”

“I know. And thanks.” Allie said. “Anyway, we’ll leave you to rest now! See you soon!”

Well they seem... nice?