9 Los

I glare at the trees around me blaming them for my current predicament.

/If there weren't so damn many I wouldn't be lost now would I?/

I hear a noise in the distance. Left with no other direction, I follow it. A short time later, stone houses appear. Excited, I take off. I jump out the tree line and onto a packed dirt road. My excitement dims when I look around; a village, scarcely populated and falling into ruins, with houses made up of crumbling stone. The square buildings have thick purple and yellow vines growing along the sides, helping to hold the walls up. The buildings are randomly placed together to form a village.

In my daze, I run into someone. I must have been moving faster than I thought because the force of the collision knocks me to the ground; effectively bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Ow! Dammit," I curse rubbing my sore backside.

"Well, looky here!" A masculine voice bellows too loud. Coming from an unkempt, midsize portly man who smells of booze. His face unattractively flushed making him look like he has a rash.

A few other people in patched clothes looks at us as they pass. Judging by the way people slow, see us, and run away, I knew I wasn't going to like this guy. Especially when a couple of women visibly pale, clutch each other, and sprinting away.

"Don't you have something you need to say?" He shoves a meaty finger towards me. His stench is strong enough to make me dizzy.

/Really, does your drunk ass have nothing better to do?/

"I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," I say through clenched teeth. Trying to keep my complete disgust and disdain for him out of my voice. I turn to go on my way. However, he wraps a hand around my arm, forcing me back and preventing me from leaving.

"Now you hold on. That didn't sound very nice." His hold tightens. From the greed and lust in his eyes, I knew he wasn't going to leave this alone. "I do believe it's our sworn duty to teach the lady the error of her ways." He says.

/Wait... did he say, our./

"Of course," a voice says from behind me. I jerk my head around. Two more men have come up without me noticing. "What type of men would we be if we didn't?"

My heart sinks. One was tall and scrawny with missing teeth, and the other appears to be a malnourished balding middle age dad. The one with the missing teeth grabs my other arm.

Angry and scared, I shout, "I warn you, I'm a Princess."

They stare at me in surprise, for a moment I expect them to let me go and beg for my forgiveness. That thought has a swift death when they instead howl with laughter.

"This dirty little beggar fancies herself a Princess!"

I look down at myself. I cringe. Because of my time in the Bloody Sea, dirt, grass, and twigs cover every inch of me. Any former elegance, hidden under the grime. I don't look any better than a beggar off the street. The King wouldn't recognize me as his daughter, let alone people from a tiny village in the Bloody Sea.

"Not to worry Princess," Loud Mouth says with sarcasm, "we'll give you the royal treatment."

I try to turn for help, but see there isn't another soul in sight. When they drag me along, I dig my heels in trying to shake loose. They paw at me and my clothes. When I fight back, one of them slaps me. I can feel my face swell. Angry, I bite on the dirty hand closest to me, probably catching a disease in the process. I taste wet copper, and the aging dad makes a pitiful screeching noise. Missing Teeth wasn't expecting that so when his hold loosens, I bolt. I didn't stop to think where I was going, just run at full tilt. A cloaked figure appears from around the corner. I barely swerve in time to avoid barreling over them.

They take my hand and pull me, "this way," a childish voice says urgently.

I hesitate for a split second. I considered shaking him off, but I don't have any better options, I don't know my way around this town. And I would just be lost again if I go back into the forest.

"Hurry before they catch up," he urged.

I can hear their heavy footfalls stomping after me, so I give in and follow the kid. We take off through endless allies, around people, over walls, and across rooftops. Since I haven't completely recovered from before, I'm quickly panting for breath. Worse, periodically jumping isn't as tiring as a flat out run.

/Note to self, this kid has way too much energy to burn./

Pretty sure the reason I kept up so far was the adrenaline. Since we lost them five rooftops and four alleys ago, my adrenaline drains me. Soon, if he keeps up this pace, I'm going to pass out mid-step. We leap from one building to another before he stops and slides the hood off. He is a lot younger than I thought. He looks about fifteen, so in Asteria, his actual age is around ten. Here people age quickly into adulthood before it rapidly slows down. Life expectancy can be approximately two hundred. The kid is a short haired redhead with blue eyes. He is a few inches shorter than me. Considering he's ten while I'm in my twenties, I find this upsetting. The average height in Asteria is about seven feet, and I'm short enough that I get the feeling I'll often be mistaken as a child.

He's barely breathing hard, while I take the chance to collapse as my lungs beg for oxygen. The adrenaline is gone, and I'm crashing hard. After an embarrassingly long moment of catching my breath, and trying to speak several times, I recover enough to hold an actual conversation.

"You're not from here, are you?" He asks eyeing me.

"That obvious?" I reply

"You wouldn't have been out on the streets alone if you were. Or at least hid better."

"Yeah, I kinda wandered in."

He gets a far-off expression that ages him ten years. "This place is not kind to the ones living in it."

"Kid, how old are you?" I suddenly ask.

He snaps reverting to his childlike demeanor. "I'm not a kid."

"Course you're not," I interject

He rolls his eyes, "Don't act like you're so much older. I'm nearly taller than you."

My eye twitches in annoyance, "Just answer the question."

With a huff, he answers, "I'm nine this year."

I sigh, "of course you are."

Knowing he's not even ten makes it worse.

/Where are his parents?/