Never trust a survivor until you know what they did survive.

It was pouring down rain heavily, but everyone in the inn was fast asleep. Footsteps squished in the mud and a knock hammered the door.



“Who is it?” I asked, suprised. Who would show up at inn in the middle of the stormy night? I opened the door with confidence and faced a young man.



“Hi…, is there any empty room I can take for the night? I’ve been travelling for quite some time, but I can’t continue in this weather,” he says.



“I suppose. There’s an empty room to the left, and a stable to keep that horse of yours. I can take her if you’d like.” _Who would leave a tired young traveler in the rain like this?_ I think, yet I get a strange feeling as he passes by me to get inside. He has a scar down his arm, and a fresh one at that. People get cuts all the time though, right?



I take the brown spotted horse to the stable at the side of the inn, hurrying because of the rain. I  give her quick food and water then head inside.



                             ✨✨✨__

__

The next morning, the traveler is on his horse and ready to go in no time. The strange rush made him unknowingly drop a satchel on the ground. He looks back at me and says, “Thank you.”

I smile, “Of course,” he starts to head off, but there’s one more thing I need to ask. “Why-I-uh, never caught your name,” I stumble. Asking about the scar and his travels seemed too much from a stranger.

“Klaus,” he says, “and the scar was from a fight the night before. I’m a survior.” My eyes widen and he laughs, “I knew what you were thinking. The scar is pretty obvious, so I don’t blame you. It draws too much attention for-“ Klaus catches himself mid sentence.

“For what?” I ask. Klaus shakes his head and gets on his way, never bothering to say bye, and forgetting his

✨✨✨

A few hours later, three men arrive on their horses. They look tired and beat with their cuts and scrapes and worn armor.

“How may I help?” I ask them thoughtfully. They shake their heads and one approaches me.

“Did you see a young man come by? He should’ve had a huge scar on his arm and a brown spotted horse.”

I tremble with fear as to why the what him, but I still answer, “Klaus?”

“Yes, that’s the one. When did you last see him?” They continue to question.

“He left a few hours ago, said he was a survivor and the scar drew too much attention. Who’s attention, and why does he care? And what did he survive?”

They steal a quick glance at each other and nod, agreeing to tell a random inn keeper about their mission, “Klaus stole lots of gold from our king. He ran through the forest, where we caught up with him, and had a fight. He was injured and ran away before anyone could stop him.”

I apologized sincerely for helping him escape, but get a quick thought, “What if we caught him?”

Time passed and I waited outside my inn. Hopefully he would return for the satchel soon…, and he did.

“Hi again.” Klaus said as he rode around on his horse, “I forgot something.”

“Like this unusually heavy satchel?” I fake laugh. He gets nervous for a second and takes it.

“Yes, thank you.” Klaus smiles, and in a flash the guards leap out and grab him. He doesn’t say anything, and seems to already know what just happened.

The soldiers tie Klaus up on their horse and grab the satchel of gold. “Thank you for your help,” they tell me, and go off in the distance.

I guess you can’t really trust someone until you know why to trust them.