The troll hit the ground with a thunderous crash that shook loose the last few leaves clinging to the branches above. For a long moment, no one moved. The forest seemed to listen, holding its breath.
Eric stood still, sword trembling in his grip. Sweat stung his eyes, his arms felt heavy. He stared at the troll's motionless body, it's chest no longer moved . "...Is it dead?" he asked, voice hoarse.
As one soldiers nudged the creature's arm with his boot, quick and cautious. When it didn't react, he let out a shaky laugh. "If it isn't, it's pretending damn well."
Then the same soldiers turned to Eric, brow furrowed. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, voice edged with suspicion. "Never seen you before. You from the town?"
Another soldier stepped closer, squinting through the eric's looks. "No, not from around here. And no one travels this part of the forest alone."
Eric blinked, still catching his breath. Their stares pressed on him — curious, guarded.
"I was just passing through," he said finally, trying to sound steady.
"Through?" The first soldier let out a humorless snort. "In troll territory?"
Eric didn't answer. He didn't need to — the look in his eyes said enough.
The first soldier stepped closer, lowering his sword but not his guard. His eyes ran over Eric — the torn clothes, the trembling hands, the dirt and blood.
"You're not from here, are you?" he said slowly. "Because everyone around knows better than to wander this forest. And if they do come, they don't come alone — let alone a single kid."
He took another step, voice hardening. "So tell me — who are you, and why have you come here?"
Eric didn't answer right away. Then as eric opened his mouth, the words tumbling out in a rush — "The envoys—they came, but they were killed. I—I killed the ones who did it, but the village—it's gone, everyone—"
"Stop," one of the soldiers cut in, frowning. "What are you even saying?"
Eric blinked at them, breathing hard, the mix of fear and frustration twisting in his chest. "I'm telling you—"
But the man only raised a hand. "Slow down, kid. None of that makes sense."
The older soldier, the one with streaks of gray in his beard, glanced at the others and muttered, "Maybe he's an outsider."
That earned a few uneasy looks. Outsiders weren't strangers exactly—but they weren't favored either.
Eric frowned at the word. "Outsider? What does that mean?"
The soldier who had fled earlier stepped forward, still catching his breath. "You really don't know?" His tone carried a mix of disbelief and exhaustion.
The soldier who'd run away earlier stepped forward, wiping sweat from his brow. "What's your name?"
"Eric," he said, still catching his breath.
"Just Eric?"
"Yes."
That drew a few glances between the soldiers. The one who'd spoken let out a low whistle. "Then that settles it. You're an outsider."
"Outsider?" Eric repeated, softer this time.
The man nodded. "Every noble or royal has a family name. The rest of us—common folk—carry the name of our town or city. It's who we are." He sheathed his sword, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Eric. "But you… you've got neither. Only outsiders name themselves like that."
"Well… what is an outsider?" Eric asked.
The soldier scratched at his jaw, glancing at the others before answering. "Those who live on the edges of two kingdoms, two factions—never fully swearing to either. They trade, survive, sometimes vanish when borders shift." He shrugged. "Not citizens nor foreigners. Just… in between."
Eric frowned, the word lingering strangely in his mind. Outsider. It felt both distant and familiar, like a name he hadn't chosen but somehow fit.
"So, Sergeant Dalen, what should we do with him?" the soldier who had left Eric earlier asked.
Sergeant Dalen, the older man with a rough gray beard, took a long look at Eric before speaking. "Robert… he doesn't look like a threat. More like a kid who's lost."
Robert frowned. "Not a threat, a kid? You saw him fighting that troll. Tell me, Sergeant—what kind of kid fights a troll?"
Sergeant Dalen's eyes narrowed a little, not out of suspicion, but thought. The old soldier's voice came slow, roughened by years of shouting orders and swallowing dust."Maybe," he said. "But look at him, Robert. He doesn't even know where he is. Doesn't talk like anyone from the frontier either."
Robert wiped sweat from his brow, still catching his breath. "Doesn't talk like one, sure—but I saw him move. Fast. He's not just some lost boy."
Dalen gave a short hum. "Plenty of strange things wander these woods. Doesn't make all of them enemies."
Bron, the youngest of the bunch, muttered under his breath, "Doesn't make them friends either."
The sergeant didn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on Eric—mud-streaked, pale, eyes still darting toward the troll's corpse as if expecting it to move again.
Then Dalen said, quieter this time, "Let him breathe. We'll decide what to do once we're out of these damned trees."
And that's how Eric ended up with five soldiers he knew nothing about—men who, for all he could tell, might decide to kill him at any moment.