by A. S. Koutso
Scars
Map of Scars
Book one
A.S Koutso
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Historical and geographical content is purely fictional.
11753280
Copyright ©
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the author, not be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
ISBN: 9798679169357
Independently published
Content Warning
Violence, Sex, Blood, Language
To Jasmine.
Your encouragement helped me
through my tough times
Prologue
Part 1
As a young child, I was thrown from house to house always landing my ass on the cold cobblestone roads of this rundown shitty village. At that time I must have been no older than five or six but I needed a place to lay my head and hopefully get some kind of food, so whenever I would find myself out of a "home" if you'd like to call it that, I'd start over again, going from Inn to tavern looking for work as a maid or servant, I even shoveled shit sometimes. No one ever wanted to keep me around, not like I spoke very much so I couldn't really see why.
Being a young girl, it should have been easy for me to keep a job, most of the women took pity on the others I saw in the streets, I guess I was too broken. It's not that I looked that bad, well At least I didn't think so, whenever I could, I would take a hike through the woods right outside of the village walls,
there was a small lake where I could wash myself and I'd make sure to scrub my face clean with a big leaf from this beautiful tree right by the lake, so I know I looked half decent, white long hair with one grey and one blue eye, they didn't look different colors from far, but when you got close you could see that my right eye wasn't the color it should be, I always thought It made me look cool, I would show all of the kids on the street. " See look, I told you it wasn't blue." They always thought I was weird, but I didn't care. I always assumed once they saw my scars, they thought I was sick or something so they didn't want to deal with me, I tried to hide them the best I could but my back was pretty well covered. I don't remember where I got most of them, probably from falling or something stupid like that, but there were these two gashes on my back that I've had for as long as I can remember. They weren't that big, but I could still feel them, and funny enough I think I can actually move them. Sometimes when I'm sleeping, I dream that bones were taken out of my back as a baby, that's when I wake up screaming. Might be another reason they kick me out.
The people weren't all bad though, sometimes it was just bad luck. The tavern would catch fire because of some big tough guys starting a fight and knocking over the lanterns then boom, out of a job. Once I stayed in a barn and the farmer was back on his payments, so he lost his land. They always looked so devastated when the tax collector came around and I never asked why. Got my answer though.
I will always remember the day I met her. She was the nicest of them all, a normal mother with a son maybe 2 years younger than me. I saw her around quite a bit, she was always smiling and talking to everyone. Including the stray dogs. She got along with most people but never seemed to have many friends. It was usually only her and her kid.
One night I was working in a tavern on the east side of the village when a big fight broke out, the off-duty guards were getting touchy with the barmaid and the local farmers started defending her, glasses were thrown then tables and chairs. I ran out of there before I got trampled. I had nowhere to go and it was pouring rain, so I kept running until I saw a small cellar door. I hid in there for the night, when I woke up there was this amazing smell coming from the floor right above me. I had never smelled anything like it, so I went outside to peek through the window. That's when I met her, she was waiting for me in the window with her big brown eyes, rosy red cheeks, and wavy scarlet hair.
"About time you wake up sleepy head"
Confused, I didn't know what to say.
"Well the eggs are getting cold, come on in!"
I really wasn't sure what was going on, so I walked to the front door and she let me in. As soon as I walked in, I was overcome by this amazing smell, it was even better up here. I started to salivate like I haven't eaten in a lifetime.
"Come on grab a fork your plate is on the table, don't be shy."
"A fork?" I questioned
"Yes dear, they are on the counter, it's the shiny pointy thing in front of you."
Grabbing my "fork" I ran over to the table, which might I add was set for a king! There were strawberries, oranges, apples, and eggs all waiting to be eaten. I sat down at the table and waited to see what I was allowed to eat. Her son was chewing on this meat that I'd never seen before, it looked crispy yet chewy. I didn't know what to make of it, but I found out just what smelt so damn good. It was in fact that meat, it wasn't very big so how did it make such an amazing smell?
"Ok dear, don't be shy. The plate in front of you has 2 eggs if you'd like more you tell me. Harland over there sure does." She proclaimed with an overjoyed smile.
"Sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to be rude."
I watched Harland as he stabbed his eggs with the fork, so I did the same.
I think I've seen these before at the new tavern in town, the guards were using them to eat their boar.
By the time I finished the first egg I was practically full. It was the only thing I'd eaten in days, but I don't think my host was happy.
"Oh, come now, you must want some fresh fruit or perhaps some bacon, I know I can't resist it!"
Bacon? Is that the meat they keep chewing on?
" Ok, yes please!" I shouted with a little more enthusiasm than was necessary.
The strawberries were so delicious the juices were running down the corner of my mouth, she handed me a cloth to wipe it so it wouldn't " stain my shirt" or whatever she said I honestly wasn't paying attention I couldn’t keep my mind off this food, I'd never eat anything like it again! I didn't want to miss not even one bite. Don't get me wrong I'd had strawberries before but usually, they were old and probably no more good but I took what I could. I didn't think they were supposed to taste this good though.
Next, I had the orange, which I didn't know would spit at me when I tore it apart. I must have looked so childish and stupid. I had gotten the juices in my right eye which really did hurt but meh screw it, the pain will go away but this orange was so big and full I didn't want to miss it. I could hear Harland giggle beside me which put a big smile on my face, when I turned to see what he was laughing about I saw she had an orange skin on her teeth which made it look like she had a big orange smile. It was so funny I snorted like a pig. I'd never done that before.
Ok bacon time, saved hopefully the best for last!!
I picked up a piece and it was wet and hot, not like water and not like slime but there was something on it, I couldn't describe it. My first bite was euphoric. Me a peasant, eating the meat of a god! I don't even think the king has had this beast before. It must be of a different land? Imported meat! That must be it. But how?
Ah fuck it who cares. My last bite of the first piece was so sad, I thought I'd never have another. I was wrong. There were three more sticks on my plate. WHAT?!?
Part 2
It's funny when I look back to when I was young everythi
ng was so new to me so exciting.
I must have been around ten years old when I first heard a foreigner. He sounded so silly! I followed him around from tavern to tavern carrying his luggage while he played the lute. Strange, the little things that pop up in your memories. Times were much simpler back then.
The man was from Britannia, not too far from Éire so he said. He sounded like he was from a whole different world. Travelers pass through the village rather often but never from a whole other land. He came by boat then traveled around by foot spreading "Tales of his land". Most ignored him but I thought his music was rather beautiful. He sang songs of war and love. How the two could be in the same song confused my young mind. His songs were mesmerizing though his voice wasn't that of a great.
When he informed me that he would be leaving our fair village within the fortnight I was rather sad, it was fun for me to escort him around, listening to all of his stories and learning from his travels. He really did live his dream. When he was a child, he told his mother he wanted to be a great bard for the heroes of his land. I assume his mother thought he was only joking but here he is, doing what he always wanted to do. Quite inspiring.
Did I even have a dream?
Ah yes! Oswald was his name. I remember his silly outfit, all frilly and sparkly.
"It's the fashion of my people," he said.
Ya ya sure, it looks goofy to my us.
I remember bringing him home to meet Harland, that boy sure did love his music. Supper was just around the corner so I asked if Oswald could stay and eat with us. She was hesitant at first but when she saw how excited I was to have a foreigner at the table with us, she couldn't say no.
The meal that night was rather bland, potatoes, and chicken. Not what we usually ate but I thought nothing of it. Harland and I wanted Oswald to stay the night, but he wouldn't have it.
"You are far too kind children; I have already paid for my room at the inn for the night." he bowed as he exited through the front door. So dramatic.
"What a nice man." She said as she cleaned the table
"Oh please, let me clean the mess. He was my guest. I can certainly clean up after him."
I rushed to her side, I didn't want to see her cook and clean up after I had invited the man over.
Weird how I never thought anything of the fact that we never did have guests over. And the odd times that we did it was such a simple supper.
A few nights had passed, and Oswald was "preparing his voice" when the guards came into the tavern. Usually, I would think nothing of it, but these men were always starting trouble and using their guard status as a free pass to wreck the town.
"I don't think you should sing tonight Sir." I proclaimed
"Oh, but I must, these beautiful people need to hear my tales."
" Please reconsider for just this one night." I had to make up an excuse or this poor man could end up on the end of one of their swords just for looking different.
"Your voice Sir, it sounds rather weak. Are you feeling alright? Perhaps you are coming down with a cough?"
"Oh! Now that you mention it, I do hear it. Maybe it would be for the best to take the night off."
"Come I will make you a home remedy to soothe your throat."
Thank the gods, that could have ended very badly.
Oswald was a strange-looking man, he was fairly tall, but he looked kind of womanly. Long brown hair, big green eyes, and I think, now I'm not sure but is he wearing blush? Well, whatever it is he most definitely would have been caught in the middle of a fight if I didn't do something, and by the looks of him, I doubt he could hold his own. I do wonder if they are taught to fight in Britannia,
he sings of war so I'm sure he fought in at least one. Right? Or perhaps the tales are of the heroes of his land and not his own, but then how could he sing with such passion? Did he love the woman he sings about? Why am I asking myself? I could just ask him. Or is that too personal? Are we friends or am I just his employee? Ah, what the hell.
"Sir, would it be informal of me to ask you a personal question?"
"No! Of course, not child, ask away, as they say, I am an open book."
Ok, whatever that means.
"Well you see, I was wondering, you sing tales of war and love. Are these your experiences? Or those of someone else?"
"Now that is a complex question, you see I did not fight in the wars of my land, but I was there. I saw the men fall on the battlefield. I also saw the men fall in love with the women of their dreams. I speak of my own experience however I was not the man of the story, simply the storyteller."
"Does that make sense to you child?" he asked with a smile on his face.
I guess it answers my question, but how does he know what those men and women were feeling. it wasn't him yet he sings as if it was. Well, I assume that's what makes him such an amazing "Bard".
"Yes, it does, thank you," I replied.
We walked back to the inn where I asked the keeper for some honey and fresh lemon. Now it wasn't cheap, but it was worth saving his life.
"Child?" He looked at me quizzically
"Yes?"
"What is your name"
My name...
Chapter 1
My heart was racing, sweat beading off my forehead like droplets of rain falling from a leaf.
“Tag your it!” Harland screamed as I tapped his shoulder
“AH!”
“No fair, I was watching the spider on the ceiling!” he proclaimed
“Well next time pay more attention to your surroundings, now. Come catch me. If you can that is!” I taunted.
As we ran around the small but cozy dwelling, we called home she watched with a smile on her face.
Always smiling. She was such a happy woman back then.
She watched us grow into young adults, but never let us forget that in our hearts we were still children.
“Ok my loves, it's supper time. Wash up and help set the table.” She called out.
We both stopped so fast without thinking we bashed our heads together.
**Thud**
The sound that came after was a mystery to the sane.
Giggles throughout the house. I was laughing hysterically while holding my pounding head. Harland had blood spewing from his nose but could not contain his joy. As she rushed to our aid, she found us lying on top of each other with not a care in the world.
I can remember that night like it was yesterday. I may still have a bump on my head.
We finally got up and cleaned ourselves off, as she was putting our plates down, we ran to our chairs it was as if we hadn't eaten in days.
Which was never the case here.
“Three square meals, no more no less. You are growing children who will one day save this world.” She would say.
Hmm little did I know.
We always had such amazing meals. Most of the people around our village had probably never heard of the things she would cook for us. I always wondered where she came up with these ideas.
I would always ask to go to the market with her to help pick out the food for the next day, but alas to no avail.
“Shopping is for adults. It's our only alone time, I will not sacrifice that for the likes of your young lady.”
The next morning, I woke up in a panic. My back was drenched in sweat and my hair matted to hell. It must have been some dream, but if only I could remember.
I would love to learn how to write, this way when I wake up, I can jot down what I remember from my dreams. I should ask her if she has time to teach me. Maybe Harland would want to learn too!
That morning at breakfast I made it a point to set the whole table by myself so she would see I was being serious when I asked her.
“We thank the gods for this blessed meal.” I chanted.
“Now straight to business please.” as I cleared my throat.
“Would you have the time in your busy day to teach me something?” I said in my most polite tone.
“Well
now, what would you like to learn?”
“Could you please teach me to write?” Before she had a chance to answer I spurted out “It’s particularly important that I learn properly, and who better than you. Actually, I would also like to learn how to read too please. If I can't read what's the point in writing.” my nervous rant continued
“I know you are terribly busy and will probably say no, but it would mean the world to me. I don't know what I want to do with my life but I’m sure reading, and writing would benefit me greatly.”
“No.” That one simple word hurt my soul.
“But please. I will clean the house, wash all the clothes, and make the food. Please!”
“I can’t”
I felt tears well up in my eyes, I was so sure she would say yes. Actually, she has never said no to me before. So why now? Maybe if I explain why it's so important to me it will change her mind.
But before I got the chance, she had left the table and was headed for her bed.
I have to approach her as a young adult, not as the child she sees me as.
Slowly I walked up to her bed, in a low tone of voice I explained myself.
“I am very sorry for springing this on you. I understand how stressed you must be raising two children by yourself, but I beg you to reconsider. I need to learn to read and write to remember what exactly is happening in my dreams.”
A sigh slips through her lips.
The next words from my mouth must be the right ones if she will agree.
“I want to know if they will help me figure out who I am. Please help me.”
Two full minutes of silence went by.
“I cannot teach you what you want to learn.”