Page 105 of A Soul to Steal

Five months?Gideon thought in disbelief, turning his face to the side.Was I asleep? My scars are fully healed.

If he’d really forgotten five months, then there was a chance he’d met the Duskwalker along the way. He doubted they’d truly been friends. Either they’d been using each other for some kind of benefit – Gideon likely needing assistance travelling the dangerous world, and Aleron... well, he didn’t know what he could want from him.

I woke up naked.

Nope! Gideon refused to accept that perhaps he’d given up his body for such a reason. He’d never do that, and just the thought made him shudder with disgust. Not because of the monster, but having sex for such a pathetic reason – no matter his partner’s species.

Oh gods, I don’t know anymore.

Every minute longer in this reality only brought on more questions, more confusion. How could someone forget such a long period of time? Trauma... maybe? Did he suppress everything in order to mentally deal with it until he knew there was a town situated nearby for him to escape to?

From what he could tell, he didn’t have a wound on his head – despite his splitting migraine. Then again... if he’d hit it hard enough, he could have memory loss from an old concussion.My skull feels fine, though.

He wished he could say the same about his hand. The middle and ring fingers of his right hand were so swollen and black, he knew he’d fractured something. Even trying to tense or move his fingers brought pain.

He didn’t know why, but... guilt prickled on the back of his neck. A small part of him felt he deserved to be in pain for clocking the Duskwalker one.

Rubbing the back of his ear in thought, he tried to figure out why.

Aleron was a stranger to him; why should he care for someone he didn’t know? No one liked to be handled or grabbed without their consent, so his actions weren’t unjustified. Plus, with the fact he was a monster, he’d been defending himself against something that would usually eat his kind.

A carnivorous beast. A human-eating nightmare.

Why did he look so sad, though?Just as he was bringing the fresh mug of beer to his lips, he paused.Where did that thought come from? He has a skull for a face... a skull can’t look sad.

Perhaps it was the blue colour of his orbs. But he didn’t know what the colour signified, did he? Yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of them as sorrowful.

Yeah, well, I’m depressed too.A horrible burning sensation radiated in each of his heart beats, bleeding sadness into his veins. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or punch the shit out of something – preferably something not alive.

Wallowing in self-pity, by the time day finally broke, Gideon was an aching being of rage, grief, and self-loathing.

He asked around about work, coming up short at each stall. Due to his own stupidity, he’d avoided asking about labour intensive work due to his injured hand. Unfortunately, all the easy jobs had been taken.

Looking down at his messed-up knuckles, he sighed.I probably should get this treated.Instead of finding a doctor, he approached one of the guards, who had been a jerk the previous day.

“Can you direct me to the timber mill or a lumberjack guild?” Gideon asked.

The woman laughed at him, as did the soldier next to her. “You just came from the forest, and now you want to go back to it? Have you got a death wish or something?”

Annoyed, he ran his fingers through his hair to brush it back. “I need work, and that’s what I’m good at. I used to be a tree cutter back in my town.”

“With that hand,” the armoured man stated with a snort, “you’d be lucky to hold a feather, let alone an axe. You’d just be a liability. There are a lot of Demons around these parts. We’re surprised you even made it here alive in your birthday suit.”

Too tired to even flush in embarrassment, all he could manage was a mental groan.

“Look, the last thing I want to do is go back out there.” He worried the Duskwalker would be waiting for him, among other things. “But if I want to get back home, I need coin. I can just use my left hand.”

The armoured woman nodded her helmet towards a notice board. “If you really want to work, check the board. There’s a lot of dated work that no one wants to do. You’ll make good coin fast if you’re willing to pick up the dirty jobs.”

Although hidden by a crude and bloodied cloth, the decently sized cut across his knuckles could become infected.

“I was hoping to avoid shovelling shit,” Gideon grumbled, turning from them.

Stubborn and determined, he approached the board. There wasn’t much he could do. Anything that required skill in artistry, such as stonework or blacksmithing, was out of his capabilities. Anything that required the strength of a healthy individual was also ruled out, considering he couldn’t even make a proper fist.

He pulled down a job call with a thoughtful hum. “Herb collector?”

Despite his cheeks crinkling in humour because it sounded innocent, he knew the truth. The person would have to go faroutside of the town walls and deep into the shaded forest. No wonder the notice was one of the oldest.

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