The empty tomb seemed a stark prison cell, with the dias in the center acting as the only piece to break up the monotony of the maze of lines that seemed to infest the room. Once the panic, seeming to strike him without warning and with the ferocity of a wildfire had receded, Kurtz slumped against the stone door, feeling completely aware and alive for the first time since waking up, bringing a dire contrast to the way he’d felt before. Sweat began to pour down his face as he contemplated his prospects, staying in this single room without food or water. For the last time, he began to retrace the events that had occurred during the past few days, attempting to place the jigsaw puzzle of memories in the correct order.

The sound of the forest birds singing seemed a pleasant way to awaken after a cold night in his campsite. The smoke from the remains of his dying fire wafted through the rays of morning sunlight, creating an idyllic picture as he began to rise from his bed roll. He opted for an open camp, allowing him to see the stars as rain seemed unlikely. His packed up his supplies from the night, taking out a pan and the last of his sausages and cheese for his morning meal.

This had been the first month that he’d been free since his indenture to Count Monte’leon, having been raised by his father until the old drunk’s gambling addiction had caused him to sell his eight year old son into servitude for ten years to pay for a debt he’d had no way to pay. He’d been brought up as an apprentice to the old stable master, Vahn Ol’veg, who’d taken to the poor boy, teaching him the proper methods to shoe horses, clean their coats and teeth, and how to clean the barding. Kurtz slept in the attic above Vahn and his wife, eating at their table, and praying with them at the local chapel on religious holidays.

Lydia was a strict but loving woman, advanced in years and having no children of her own to raise, took to Kurtz quickly. Matron Ol’veg as she was known, was one of the Count’s cooks, bringing home pastries and meats to keep the family comfortable and happy. Kurtz was treated as her own grandchild, never wanting for kindness or discipline, helping raise him into a fine and strong young man. Kurtz still remembered the love and pain in her eyes when he left after his term of service had ended, as well as the hug she gave him when he left. They sent him off with all of the supplies he may need, including a warm bed roll, food, and a new set of clothing to wear when he found a place to settle.

Vahn sent the boy off with a letter of reference from the Count, allowing him an excellent chance at employment should he desire to work for another lord, which he folded carefully into the bottom of his sack. He had no plan to seek employment, wanting to merely enjoy the first real freedom he known in ten years. He missed his adoptive parents, and they would always be in his thoughts and prayers, but he was anxious to see the world and experience new things for the first time in a decade.