I had the time to think about all of this…

  For a minute, my mind drifted to the city and the known Kingdoms—the lands of elves, dwarves, and the other less-known races. I was lucky a year ago when one of the dwarves traveled through our lands. My parents said it was the best thing that could have happened; their weaponry was a legendary investment. He even bought a dwarven blade for me to use in my training—back before the real pain began.

  Soon, I will be twenty-one.

  At this age, most are expected to join the garrison or settle into the life of a shopkeeper. But even though I could have served as a soldier, I would rather end this life of pity than waste an opportunity like the one before me. I am finally freeing myself—my very mind—from these invisible shackles. Even if I am walking toward my death, at least I am walking toward a chance.

  I looked over the surrounding buildings as I walked back home. People were laughing, drinking, and occasionally fighting. In the crowd, I spotted a few of my former classmates from the Knight Academy. It was an institution I had been talented enough to enter, standing high above the common folk. I was smarter than them, and ninety percent of them didn't even try to train with the intensity I maintained. That was the only reason I was allowed to join in the first place, so long ago.

  I still remember the day I was accepted. I remember being happy.

  Being a commoner there was, as one might expect, the catalyst for my problems. But the real rot started after two years. The others began outperforming me no matter how hard I pushed myself. I felt the weight of the looks they gave me: the commoner who was better than a lowly foot soldier, yet lacked the "natural talent" to keep up with the high-born.

  Eventually, people began to treat me like a curse, a token of bad luck. They walked away when I approached. The laughter followed me, getting worse with every passing day for the last five years. If that had been my only problem, it wouldn't have been so bad. But I was just unlucky in every way that mattered.

  I won’t miss that place. But I have to tell my father that I am leaving. It wouldn't be right to simply vanish without a goodbye.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  As I continued my walk, I saw them again. I tried to stay on my path, but they weren't going to let me pass in silence.

  [Derrek] "Oh, look who we have here. Dargoth… the unlucky token of failure. Why don't you buy some drinks for your betters? Come on now, we aren't done talking to you yet." He laughed, a mocking, hollow sound.

  [Dargoth] I looked at him, my eyes like daggers. "Leave me alone, or we will fight to the death right here."

  [Derrek] He smiled, glancing at his friends. "Oh, Dargoth is showing us what a dangerous monster he is! I have a name for this animal: a wild cat!"

  [Dargoth] "Last chance," I said, my voice low.

  [Derrek's Friend] "You know you would die if you tried anything. Why would I be intimidated by a moron like you?"

  [Dargoth] "Yes," I replied coldly. "But you will be bleeding, too. And that’s one of your better shirts, isn't it? Not to mention the pain the wounds will cause, even if they're only temporary."

  [Derrek] His grin faded instantly. "You just made your next week much harder than you think. You’ll understand why soon enough."

  He and his pack smirked and turned back to their conversation as if I were already gone. I sighed and continued the walk home.

  I left my sword on the stand and headed for the kitchen. I grabbed a plate of spaghetti with cheese. The simple meal lifted my mood, if only slightly. As I ate, my father approached.

  "Another angry day, I see," he said softly. "Why do you youngsters always have to have such bad blood between you?"

  "Yeah," I muttered. "But at least I won't have to deal with them for a while."

  "Oh? And why is that?"

  "Tomorrow, I’m going out for a job," I told him. "I don't know how long I'll be gone. I’ve got a job, let's just say… and I really don't want to talk about the details."

  "Okay," my father replied, nodding slowly. "We will wait for you, if you make it back. Knowing you, it will be dangerous, and you won't step away from it no matter how much I ask. Well… see you soon."

  After dinner, I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Where was I going to go? To the southern woods to hunt monsters and trade their parts? Or simply make that strange man’s life easier as his assistant? Perhaps I’d visit the Kingdom of the Golden Tiger to the north. Maybe I’d run into more dwarves—they were usually decent people. If I ran into elves, it would be less pleasant; they are all so insufferably arrogant.

  Eh, who knows. For now, I just have to pack my things and prepare for tomorrow.