Erin

*Rumble, rumble... clatter...*

I heard the strangely distinct sounds of wooden wheels rolling on rough cobblestone. From the swaying, I knew I was in motion. Was I in a cart? My eyes were closed. I chose not to open them. The world around me seemed so quiet. I could make out the faint clip-clopping of trotting horses.

Suddenly, a violent jolt.

My eyes shot open; sound flooded into my ears. I sluggishly looked around me. Sure enough, I was in a wooden cart, being pulled by two huge work horses. The sky had darkened; it was evening.

Alarmingly, my hands were tied behind my back.

There were others in here with me. I counted nine of them: seven women and two men. We were all squashed in, surrounded by dirty, metal bars. This was clearly not a ride any of us wanted to be on.

I took a good look at the other captives. Despite the fear in their eyes crying out for help, none of them said a word. Everyone seemed to be strangers to each other. Moving down from their faces, I analysed their clothing. Instead of the black and gold I’d seen until now, they wore muted colours: many shades of beige, brown and grey. Their clothes were more tattered and dirtier. Even a newcomer like me could tell they were of a lower class than the other city folk. However, they maintained the general style, as well as the strange accessories. Even the children wore top hats with belt buckles, bowler hats with vintage welding goggles and aviator caps. One of them hugged a thick, gold-tipped cane, like a teddy bear.

My gaze lingered on one woman. She was about my age and gorgeous. Rich, blonde hair, big, light brown eyes, thick eyebrows, a button nose and an angular face. She was thin under her baby blue dress. I’d never seen a woman with such features outside of social media.

Stop it, Kugo.

I squeezed my eyes shut to clear my head. Why was I thinking of something so meaningless right now? From the looks of it, I was about to be sold into slavery!

I stared around at all the people walking the streets. Some of them—especially the children—stared back. However, no one intervened. Nobody stopped our captors to tell them that it’s wrong to kidnap people. In that moment, I had never felt such jealousy. Everyone here, including my fellow captives, knew where they were. They belonged in whatever nightmare reality I’d found myself in. They knew where to find their loved ones, and they understood the culture and societal structure of this horrible place. If I had asked any of the people walking around what they were up to, they certainly wouldn’t have told me “I don’t know, I just got here.”

The cart stopped in the middle of the street. I craned my neck to see why. We were at a checkpoint. A man walked over. He was dressed in the same silly trench coat and top hat as the horseman from earlier. Was this a city guard? He inspected us like we were standard cargo.

“Aren’t you going to help us?” I blurted out without thinking. The guard ignored me, but my captors didn’t. There were two of them, one holding the reins and the other clutching a longsword. The one holding the reins turned around.

“Shut up back there!” he yelled.

We made eye contact. I remember thinking: I hate you; I hate this place, I hate those ridiculous outfits and most of all, I hate not understanding any of it! I wish I could be in your position, knowing where I’m going and what I’m doing.

My anger must’ve shown on my face, because my captor looked taken aback. He began to say something.

Suddenly, the entire world shifted.

Again, I felt like puking. I sharply averted my gaze and squeezed my eyes shut. Disoriented, I gripped the reins tighter and…

Wait, what?

My hands, which had been bound by rope just a second ago, were now holding onto the horses’ reins; the same horses pulling the cart I was on. Except now, I was sitting at the front, with my other captor.

I looked back into the wagon.

The man who had told me to shut up was sitting in my spot. His hands were tied behind his back, like mine had just been. A confused expression adorned his face, reflecting my exact feelings.

Had we just switched places?

Despite the confusion, my body moved on its own. I backhanded the captor next to me in the face and shoved him off the cart. I clumsily reached for his sword at the last second, grabbing it firmly by the blade and snatching it out of the falling man’s hands. Some city guards noticed what was going on and moved to apprehend me. Unsure of how to ride a horse-drawn cart, I slammed the reins down and yelled “go!” The horses bolt off so fast, the cart nearly toppled over.

A symphony of shouting men and galloping horses played behind me, as the city guards gave chase.

I barrelled through an outdoor market, forcing people to leap out of the way. Knocking over stalls and people, I couldn’t help but think: That’s right, screw all of you and your stupid hats!

***

The sky had since blackened. I didn’t even know if I was being chased anymore, but boy was I running. Taking advantage of the darkness, I veered off the illuminated streets, into a large, open field. The grass muffled the cart’s noises, but I slowed down anyways, for added stealth. The moonlight shone strong onto the clearing.

I stopped the horses, picked up the sword, hopped off the cart and walk around the back. The cage was predictably padlocked. I strode over to the captor I had swapped places with. Two of the women, whose hands were tied in front of them, had their hands pressed against the man’s mouth.

I wondered why he was so quiet, I amusedly thought.

I reached through the bars. Sure enough, there came the reassuring jingle of keys. I yanked them off him, ignoring his muted protests and finally unlocked the cage. “Everybody, out,” I ordered. The captives eagerly complied. “Make sure he doesn’t get away,” I warned the others, pointing to our former captor.

“Oh, we won’t,” one of the men assured me.

I got to work slicing through their restraints using my new sword. In the heat of action, I hadn’t even realised that I had cut my hand whilst grabbing it earlier. It was no longer bleeding, but the pain told me this entire situation was very real. Something about that confirmation made me want to stock up on equipment. I made sure to collect all the rope I was cutting and slung it over my shoulder.

After freeing everyone, I approached the kidnapper. He was the only one whose hands were still tied behind his back. He looked at me warily, though I could make out an annoying optimism on his face. I wordlessly took his satchel, coin pouch, dagger, lantern and matches.

“I’m going to deal with this one,” the man restraining our former captor told me. He picked him up, hoisted him atop one of the horses and rode off.

Sh-should I stop him? I feel like he’s going to kill that guy…

The rest of the captives took their turns thanking me, before scattering in all directions. I ordered them to leave me the remaining horse, which half of them weren’t happy with. Thankfully, they didn’t fight me on it. Finally, alone with my thoughts, I looked up at the moon.

What kind of mess am I in, Allister?

“Excuse me?”

The voice made me jump. It was the gorgeous, blonde woman who had caught my eye. Her cheeks were flushed and her brow sweaty. She took a moment to compose herself. “They split up my family into different carts. Please, you have to free them!”

“Free them? What, am I Abraham Lincoln?” I retorted.

She gave a blank stare. “Who?”

“Never mind,” I sighed. “Look, I’m sorry about your family, but I can’t help you.”

“Well, don’t you at least want to get revenge on those who captured you?”

“No,” I instantly replied. “I have far bigger concerns.”

“Bigger than almost becoming a slave? And I’ll bet they robbed you, too. Have you checked your pockets?”

I instinctively reached for my phone. It wasn’t there. And now that I think about it—

“They stole my bag!” I exclaimed. My wallet, my ID, my phone and my money… how was I just now realising this? Realistically, none of those items would do me much good in this place, but I couldn’t feel comfortable without them.

Am I seriously considering this? I’m not an action movie hero who performs impossible stunts and brings down secret organisations. I’m Sato Kugo, a regular high school student. I got lucky with my escape, that’s all.

“Do you have an Investigator’s License?” she asked.

A what?

“Uh… nope. Guess I can’t investigate this case, then. Go ask someone else,” I said. I was acting dismissive, but really, I was concerned about my belongings. I always became too attached to my property and I suppose I wasn’t ready to accept that I could leave my life on Earth behind, without at least exploring my options.

“Oh, don’t worry. With all the crime that’s been going on, they’re handing out licenses to pretty much anyone who applies,” she gladly informed me.

Woo-hoo...

“Look, this is mine!” she said, proudly showing me a small card.

What is this language and why can I read it? So, her name is Emeryn Erin, huh? Born in—

She palmed the card and slid it back into her pocket.

I glared at her for not giving me the time to read anything. She didn’t seem to notice. I sighed. Unfortunately, I don’t have much of a choice. I want my things, and I need a guide in this new world. Furthermore, this could be a chance to learn about this country, if I ever decide to take it over,” I thought, with a mischievous grin. “Emeryn Erin, is it?” I asked.

"Well, you're saying it backwards, but that’s right!" she exclaimed, hopefully. She knew I was acquiescing. "And you?"

"Sato Kugo, last name, first name. You can call me Kugo," I sighed. "Do I need a license? Wouldn't it be better if we went straight to rescuing your family? Plus, you already have one," I remarked.

“Being licensed will let you read the case information. You’ll also get rewards and even discounts on weapons! So, yes, you need them!”

Weapons? I don’t like where this is going…

Erin continued. “You can apply for a license at a Guilds Bureau, though they must all be closed by now." She thought the issue over. Finally, she suggested we find a place to sleep and get our licenses in the morning.

I audibly sighed. “Untie that horse,” I said, despite myself. Erin squealed in more excitement than one would expect for someone who’s family was on the line.

We trotted off into the night.