Short Stories (Multifandom)

Middle Ages

Chapters one and two of an old book of mine called Middle Ages. Also that picture is so beautiful I just had to use it for this, since it is based in the middle ages.

"Please. He needs a hospital, not an asylum!"

Tyler Joseph stood amongst the crowd, watching as burly men shoved an elderly man into an old, splintered carriage. The inside was padded with white, cotton pillows stitched together as protection for the ill. But this man wasn't ill, no one believed him when he told the towns people of the things he saw and everything that has been done. They wouldn't believe him when he told them that the ugly, crooked people from the sky strapped him down and experimented on his frail body. They even asked for proof, but to the old mans dismay as he went to pull up his tattered sleeves and ripped undershirt, the markings were gone. They disappeared, how could they? Most were inches deep and dousing out blood. No stains, nothing was left behind after he had returned to the town from those dark, decrepit woods.

"You're lucky he's not being hung. Now back!" A man with a deep voice and metal plating on his shoulders yelled, closing the doors to the carriage as he grabbed the reigns of his horse. "You see this?" He points to the beggar in the carriage, a scowl on his face as he climbs on top of the beige horse. "Come up with a story like this and you'll see yourself in his place. Break any forthcoming law and there won't be any hesitation for isolation, brutalization, or execution."

Tyler hung his head low as he backed away slowly from the crowd. He was tired of the mess the laws were bringing and the new leaders weren't so great themselves.

"Ouch, watch where you're going." A voice spoke hoarsely to which Tyler looked up from the gravel below his feet to the person who had spoke those words.

The beauty caught him off guard, but that wasn't what caused him to stumble upon his feet then fall to his bottom. It was the fact that he was staring at a man, a muscular man as all Romans and Britains were besides Tyler who was malnourished.

"Goodness, are you okay boy?" A women walked up to the two, a baby hung to her chest by a cloth.

"It was my fault, I knocked him to the ground by accident. I was just taking him back to my Villa to tend to his wounds." The man stood above Tyler spoke to the women graciously who smiled at him, ushering him along.

"That's very good, he looks to be fallen ill. You best take care of him then get him back to his family." The women and her baby walked away after that, blending into the dispersing crowd just as the soldiers and the carriage were off to Tyler only knows where.

"Get up. Are you hurt?" The man asked, grabbing Tyler by the forearm and pulling him up.

"N-no, but I have to be getting back to my family--"

"I can't let you do that. The women is still there and watching us to make sure I'm taking you back to my home. Let's go, we'll stop by to grab some things then I'm taking you back right here. The last you'll ever see of me." The man wouldn't deny feeling those feelings too, making him angry with himself as he was taught to always carry a vexation with him.

"B-but what's the--"

"Hush, child."

"I'm not a child, I'm old enough." Tyler scowls as he shrugs his arm from the mans hold, rubbing at the sore spot where the grip once was.

"How old are you?"

"I-I just turned 19, now let go of me." The man had once again grabbed a hold of Tyler's arm as he spoke his age.

"What's your name?"

"I thought we weren't going to be seeing each other again."

"Answer the question."