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Bruised like a lone tomato trampled through dozens of feet in a market, Sol felt sore all over. Yet he ran and ran and ran.

Enraged voices echoed all around, the distance between him and the mob decreasing in equivalent proportions to his increasing heartbeats. They were twenty feet away and if he stopped even for two heartbeats, they'd pounce on him with the speed of a whirlwind.

Arithmetics, really? Now?

"Stop, you thug," A man bellowed.

"Leave me alone!" Sol shouted back.

"No, not until you tell us who you are, you thief," a woman replied, huffing, and panting but not as much as him.

"I want the same answ-"

Before he even got his words out, the land shook. They were doing their magic. Crap.

Sol ducked and rolled, dodged the cracks in the ground, wincing with pain. A sharp stone hit his back and he almost fell flat on his face but stumbling through, he ran yet. He presumed, his body clearly had been in a much better shape, before this nightmare...

Then, he saw a silhouette of an old lady a few paces away, walking slowly under the dimming glow of the sunset. Two cloth bags swinging by her sides.

Desperate measures.

Reaching ahead, Sol stood behind her and clasped her wrists, as lightly as he could. "Please, please, g-grandma, please. Stay still. Or they'll kill me," he groveled near her ear. "I won't hurt you. I promise. P-Please stay still."

The people came closer and halted, slowing their run. Cutlasses and axes in hands. Sol pleaded to the old woman again and she, to his extreme relief obliged with a brisk shaky nod. Then her demeanor changed.

"Go... go away. Or he will harm me," she spoke to the group of six. Her voice thin yet fierce, "Shoo."

He made a show of pulling her back and widened his eyes threateningly at them all. The ordeal was a bit comical to him for the lack of a better word. After a few moments, they dispersed, cursing beautifully at him. He knew not why the people hadn't fought for the woman's safety harder.

Sol dared not put his guard down, as they walked some half-a-mile further. He offered to carry her heavy-looking bags which stank like... fish and spices, and after a little hesitation she had let him. She stopped in front of a small house with broken fence and turned her head just a little to glance at him.

With a wildly beating heart, Sol put the bags on her doorstep, thanking her for the help and apologizing for the same. However, she looked at him the same way the fisherman and the local shop owners did. With intrigue and... suspicion.

Sol waited for her to do her magic and open the door. But to his extreme surprise, she pulled out a rustic key from a knot of her long wavy skirt. Perhaps, she was weak at magic... or didn't have any.

The lady, with an eye still on Sol, fumbled with the padlock. The door opened with a creak. His heart weighed like boulders as he dipped his head at her one last time and walked on realizing he didn't have that luxury. Nowhere to go.

There was an itch in a particular crevice of his brain where most important of the information was supposed to be. Important and basic. An image of a parchment formed in his head and he made a... list-

Name - unknown, Realm - unknown, Age - mid-twenties (since all my teeth seemed intact and plenty of hair haphazardly grew on my head). Gender - male. Clothes - torn and burnt (could be grey or black or it was all soot). Boots - perfect (seemed to be made of good quality leather). A ruined neck chain with an onyx studded along with a long silver intricate one (which no one had bought).

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