Page 1 of Daman
Prologue
Daman
Ancient Dacia
People feared the forest. The misshapen trees and warped foliage disoriented them and made them uneasy.
As I walked, I stared up at the rays of sunlight trying to penetrate the thick, twisted branches. The fading of summer left the morning crisp. The lack of sunlight in the thicket of elm and beech trees made it even more so.
A cool hand brushed my arm.
“I need supplies from town,” I told the spirit. “Will you watch over Lycus until I return?”
The woman nodded, dark hair covering her eyes. She was a spirit who’d lived in the forest longer than me. Her name was Maya. She vanished. Other spirits appeared as I continued through the woodland. I smiled at them and kept walking.
Three years ago, I had been wandering through the trees looking for shelter when an orb of light guided me to an abandoned hovel. I fixed it up as best as I could, and after meeting Lycus later that year, we’d worked together to make it livable. We’d been together ever since.
Lycus was my only friend—among the living, anyway. He was also ill. Weakening more and more each day.
As I reached town, eyes burned into me. I was the boy who lived in the forest. They feared me just like they feared my home. I ducked my head and hastened my steps, heading toward the marketplace.
The agora bustled with activity as merchants sold their wares and artisans displayed their crafts: jewelry, ceramics, and metalwork. Being around so many people at once made me uncomfortable. Ever since I could remember, I’d been able to sense certain emotions. Mainly jealousy. I heard their thoughts too.
A woman stood alone and glared at another woman who walked by, hand in hand with a handsome young man.“He should be mine.”
I felt her bitterness. Her resentment.
Continuing down the path, I jumped out of the way of a man pushing a cart and brushed against someone else. His envious thoughts filled my head. He had been looking at a nobleman, angry about their class distinction.
Their bitterness seeped into me too, as it always did. Up ahead, a man radiated wealth, from his fine clothing to the heavy coin purse he flashed around as he purchased a golden bracelet for the beautiful woman at his side. The amount he spent on that one piece of jewelry could’ve fed me and Lycus for a year.
I sprinted forward and bumped into him.
“Watch where you’re going, boy,” he grumbled and adjusted his clothing.
“Apologies!” I tucked the coins I’d stolen into my satchel and scurried away.
I had no parents. No siblings or anyone to take care of me. So, I took care of myself. And while I did honest work, like being an errand boy for the people who didn’t flinch at the mere sight of me, I often resorted to pickpocketing and small thievery, just enough to get by. Over the years, I had honed those skills, giving me a deft hand and the ability to sneak around places I probably shouldn’t.
Trees rose on one side of the physician’s shop, and a grassy field stretched behind it.
“Morys?” I walked through the front door, glancing up at the hanging plants and dusty shelves of tools and odd things he’d collected over the years.
“Daman.” Morys passed through the narrow doorway on the left side of the room, his gray hair thinning and deep wrinkles around his brown eyes. “Finished so soon?”
“Yes, sir. I woke early.” I pulled plants from my satchel and placed them on the table. Morys never entered the forest, but he paid me to gather plants that he used to make medicines. He was kind to me.
Morys grabbed two coins from his small, worn purse and handed them over. “How does Lycus fare?”
“Still weak, sir.” At the mention of my friend, the center of my chest ached. “His cough has lessened, though he tires easily and complains of aches.”
“Let me give you something to take to him.” Morys walked back through the doorway to his workroom, and I followed.
The room was crammed like the previous one, but I found comfort in the chaos. Two square windows let in sunlight and fresh air, combating some of the stuffiness. I rooted myself on a stool and watched as the older man grabbed a bundle of long-stemmed herbs.
“Is that ironwort?” I asked.
“Yes.” Morys smiled over at me before placing the stems and leaves in a vial. “This is to make a healing tonic. You have a small pot, yes?”
