The Non-Human Society

The little pack on my back was light. And not just because everything was light to me.

It only had a single set of clothes within it, and a small hand drawn map. It was so empty in fact that the bag kind of bounced around a little annoyingly as I walked.

“Light loads sometimes are heavy,” I said softly as I thought about all I had left behind.

Not really anything tangible of course. I had arrived to that city with nothing but the clothes on my back, and had left with basically the same. The only difference was now I had a more suitable set of clothing, and another in case these ones got ruined.

I’d been traveling for a few weeks now. Following the rough map given to me by Yallsi. It led through several nations, and even some unclaimed land. She had dotted down nearly a dozen major cities and landmarks for me to use as a guide, but about half way through the journey she admitted that she likely might get some of it wrong. Certain names, or cities, might be wrong or out of place.

I couldn’t fault her for it. I understood it after all. How could I expect her to know the actual topography of a location she’d never been to, or only read or learnt about in passing.

It wasn’t like the humans of this era had very accurate maps anyway as it was.

Though it was interesting that most of the towns and villages I’d been passing through so far had all been… relatively tiny. Little hamlets really. The largest had maybe a couple dozen families at best, and the smallest had only been five buildings. They had been a little excited I had been passing through, if only to say hi to a stranger.

Considering I’d traveled many hundreds of miles so far, it was honestly a little concerning. What if that port city I had just left had been something of a capital? A real one?

It’s been a long time since I’d seen such a world with so little population. But… I shouldn’t too surprised.

When I had left this land last time, it had been in ruins. Literally on fire, too.

It was a miracle there were even this many people still alive.

“Sorry about that,” I whispered an apology to the world around me as I began climbing a small hill.

The path I was walking on was rather hard to make out. It wasn’t frequented enough to keep it clear of weeds and grass, being a dirt road, but I could see the tracks of not just wheels but feet. Someone had tred this path not long before me. Likely only a few days ago, based off the way the footprints looked.

The dirt path was dry, but moist. This land was full of fertile ground, perfect for growing crops. Plus it seemed to rain often enough, which judging by the incoming clouds in the distance was something that would happen again soon.

I was nearing a large mountain. One that stood alone, without any other mountains around it. It was one of the landmarks Yallsi had given, and was the last one she had been confident about. Beyond this mountain was lands only known to her by gossip and second-hand knowledge.

Nothing new to me. And… it didn’t matter much either.

Even if it took me years to find this supposed nation of in the north, where a Monarch lived, it was not something that mattered.

At least to me. Right now.

It mattered to those suffering under its rule. But…

Rolling a shoulder, I shifted the light pack back into position. It had slipped a little as I reached the top of the hill.

I’ll need to either tighten the straps, or find more stuff to carry. The pack slipping out of place and bouncing around was starting to annoy me.

Especially since it was a constant reminder.

It hadn’t been my own pack. I hadn’t purchased it. Nor had I stole it.

The adorable woman whose heart I had broken had gifted it to me. It was hers. The same pack she had used during her years at school, to carry her books.

It had her families insignia sewn onto the main flap, and was made of tough leather. The thing was actually well made. Proof of her family’s status.

Reaching up to touch the sling of the pack, I felt the smooth leather and thought of the woman I had left behind.

Had leaving been the right choice?

Probably not.

But I had made that choice. I had done it, without looking back.

“You’re a cruel man, Vim,” I whispered to myself as I began descending the small hill.

It seemed there were rolling hills up to the mountain in the distance. Off in the distance I could see forests, replacing the endless plains of grass I’d been walking along for days now.

I wonder where I actually was. I didn’t remember this mountain, but… maybe I did. One day I’ll need to find a real map somewhere. I wonder what continent I was even on.

For a few hills I thought of my exile. Those chain of islands. The inlets. The little house I had made.

The little turtles that came and went every few years. The colorful birds. The huge fish and whales…

Slowing, I left my thoughts as I took in the sight of a cart. One being pulled by an ox, and had a huge stack of hay.

“Oh my, a traveler!” the man sitting on the ox, not the cart since it was packed so full of hay, sounded shocked to see me as we approached one another.

It took a few minutes before we were close enough to speak without shouting, and as I approached the large horned ox, it let out a tiny huff of a growl as its driver pulled on the reins as to make it stop walking.

“I greet you, O’ traveler,” the man said as I neared.

“And I you, bearer of hay,” I said as I patted the thick muscled creature as I stepped up to it. The thing flicked its ears, but didn’t do much more.

He chuckled at me, not realizing I was actually speaking to the beast and not him. “Tis feed. Pray the winds keep, less I lose half of it before I get home!” he said.

Yes… A quick glance to the pile of hay behind him on the small cart made that clear. He hadn’t bundled it, or tied it down even. He had simply stacked it upon itself, until the weight alone was what kept it in place.

Was a miracle it hadn’t toppled going up and down these hills. But I guess they weren’t that steep.

“Might I ask if there’s any village along this path? Before the mountain?” I asked him.

“Aye. Just one on this road. Another larger, Halfway, is to the east. You can get to it from the village along this road, there will be several roads to take. They’ll be marked,” he said, happy to tell a foreigner the way through his lands.

“I thank you. Is your farm near?” I asked.

“About half a day at this rate. My sons will be behind me, make sure you greet them as you pass,” he said with a gesture behind him.

Ah. I see.

I nodded at the man and smiled. “I’ll make sure to let them know they’re lagging behind and need to pick up the pace,” I said.

He laughed, and the large ox shifted as the man slapped the thing in amusement. “Please do! Ah… but they grow quickly. As quick as wheat, I swear. One’s more man than me now, never thought I’d see the day!” he seemed more than willing to boast of his sons.

“That’s their job,” I said.

He grinned as he nodded. “Alright then traveler. I wish you well. It’ll be raining soon, but you should reach the village’fore then. My cousin, a portly woman with red eyes, owns the bakery. Beg her my pardon, and maybe she’ll feed you something tasty,” he said.

“Red eyed baker. I can do that. Your name, mighty ox rider?” I asked.

“Barren. Barren the Last.”

“My name is Vim. If one day we meet again, I promise to remember your kindness,” I said.

“Ah, don’t sweat it lad. What’s the point of life if we didn’t share such memories? Even if we never meet again, we’re still friends!” Barren the Last said as he ushered his forward.

Stepping away as to not get hit by the cart being pulled behind him, I nodded and waved the man a goodbye.

Humans.

I watched the cart of hay roll away for a moment before turning back to my route.

How long had it been since I had grown food? Or worked a farm…?

Blinking a little, I tried to think of my years in exile. On those islands.

Hadn’t I grown food? I couldn’t remember doing so. I remembered eating fruit, and fish… but…

Maybe I had only ate when absolutely necessary. Would explain why I had no memories of it.

I should have taken account of it all. I wonder how long I had gone between meals. Had it possibly been months? Years even? Surely not. I was unnatural, but was I that…

Yes. I probably was.

The next cart I encountered was pulled by two oxen. This cart took up the whole road, so I had to step aside and out of the way for it. The young lad guiding the pair of oxen did so from in front of them. Unlike his father, he guided them without riding.

“Ho’ lad. Your father begs for your speed, before the storm reaches us,” I said to him as I passed.

The boy laughed. “I bet he does! He’s the one who slept in this morning, slowing us down!” he said.

Smirking at the boy as we both laughed and nodded, I couldn’t help but find a small piece of jealousy for the boy and his father.

It would have been nice to have such a family. Such camaraderie.

How come humans could have such a thing and non-humans couldn’t?

Or rather, why had it been something innate. Humans had been blessed with such a thing from their birth. The non-humans had been cursed with the opposite. To battle and hate their own family, even upon their birth.

My actions had… evened the scales a little. But not enough. Though maybe it had by now.

After so long, surely they had become a little more… human? Right?

The next cart, and the last, was together. Slowly descending the hill. Each had two oxen, like the lad before them, and there were three boys guiding these ones. Two were in fact children. Young boys, riding the oxen, and a young man who was tall and stocky that was guiding them.

So this was the son who was more of a man than his father.

“Greetings!” the young man greeted me without hesitation. He had a hat on, and he tipped it a little as he did so.

“Your father’s proud of you boys. Keep it up,” I said to them as I walked past.

The three all smiled proudly, and went to talking amongst themselves as I left them behind. They were wondering who I was and what their father had possibly said.

As I climbed, then descended, the hill… I continued onward. Heading for this supposed village, with the portly cousin who might have tasty snacks for me.

It’d do me good. To mingle a little more with them. To relax.

I should have stayed with Celine longer.

Groaning at myself, I wondered how long I’d be beating myself up over that.

Probably the whole way.

“Maybe I should go back to those islands,” I mumbled as a far off cloud rumbled, signifying the storm was approaching... and quickly.

Hopefully their hay would be fine. It usually would be. It was hardy stuff, even when freshly cut, but they hadn’t packed it well.

“Hmph. Worrying over hay instead of your heart or soul,” I teased myself as I climbed another hill.

As I reached the top, I noticed some smoke. Grey stuff, from fireplaces.

Off in the distance, I could see the buildings. The houses.

The village the farmer had mentioned.

Picking up the pace, I had to once again shift and roll a shoulder as my pack shifted again.

It was like she had done it on purpose. To remind and harass me the whole trip.

Somehow that made me regret leaving her all the more.