“Listen children, you should eat your vegetables, else you’ll get cursed by the heavens. You wouldn’t want your teeth turning black and making everything inside your mouth poo now would ya? Now hurry along and finish your meal before your father gets ‘ere dearie.”

  -Nanny Gloutefoile

  Rob

  Rob was currently rummaging through the dirt, trying to find some stuff he could steal from the ruins of the church. It was the dead of night, equipped only by a small oil lamp, that he found treasure he could use to sell. He was a robber you see, just like his namesake.

  He found a cup, a bracelet, and a small metal statue. He smiled in greed. Maybe he could sell it off and finally win back what he lost from his previous gambling spree.

  He was a thief, yes, but he was also a gambler. In his eyes he was the victim of the real thieves, which were merchants and banks, ones that refused to lend him money. Money that he could easily win back with the appropriate amount of capital.

  He dug up a shiny spoon from the dirt when he heard a voice. He saw an old priest holding a torch running towards him. Two other apprentices were holding pitchforks and sickles while running, a dangerous thing do if you asked him.

  “Hey you, get out of there!”

  The priest held out a hand and threw a gout of fire from his fingertips.

  Time to run.

  Rob fled the scene with the speed of a horse, a skill that he was grateful to have. His black cloak hid him in the darkness of the night, allowing him a safe way out.

  Lodur

  Lodur was put in a pillory in the center of village. His feet was chained and his hands stuck near his head on a wooden lock.

  He was paraded around town and shamed by everyone in it. Some people threw buckets of water at him and some even threw beans, painful painful beans. Old women spat on him, old men threw hurtful words at him, and children just kicked him in the balls, an area he could not defend. He was covered in snot and tears.

  “God dammit!”

  A lightning strike hit near where his pillory was and almost fried him.

  “Eeep! Sorry God, I didn’t mean it.”

  He was frustrated. He was now excommunicated by the church and would be executed by hanging two days from now. He looked at his blackened hands and sunk even lower. He was cursed now. He could feel it in his bones, something made him taint anything he touched.

  He was scared of touching anyone, because it might do something horrific with them. He heard stories of people being cursed to turn whoever looked into their eyes into stone, turn the land they tread on into mud, and even turn whatever they touched into gold. He heard the people who were afflicted with a curse slowly descend into madness and start hearing voices.

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  The priests told him that hanging him would be a mercy to him.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to be a priest, not a thrice damned heretic.

  He was in despair when suddenly he spotted a black cloaked figure hiding in a wall near him. He met eye to eye with the suspicious individual who was carrying a sack that jingled and clinked. They both stayed silent as a priest carrying a torch passed his side.

  “Search for him, he must be somewhere around here.” The priest said as he turned his eyes towards Lodur.

  “Lodur, I’m so disappointed in you.” Lodur dropped his head in shame. “I knew you were a cursed child when you were dropped in the church. There was always something wrong with you, and now I’m proven right. It would have been better if you go back to the wilderness where you belong.”

  The old priest sneered and walked away, leaving Lodur crestfallen. The steps faded and the light of the torch dimmed as he walked away.

  He didn’t want to die yet, he had so much to live for. If only he could get out of here, maybe he could run away and maybe live somewhere in peace. At least then he might still have a chance to live a fulfilling life.

  The black cloaked individual took out his head from the shadows and slowly sneaked out away from the priest’s direction. Lodur suddenly got a bright idea.

  “Hey, hey you. Yeah you, the guy with the cloak.”

  “What are you doing? You’re gonna get me killed man.” The cloaked guy whispered.

  “Get me out of here. Get me out and I’ll help you.”

  “Fat chance.”

  “Get me out or I’ll yell.”

  The guy stared at him in doubt. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Lodur filled his lungs with air, the most he’s ever done in his life.

  “Try me.” He taunted the hoodlum with cheeks full of air.

  “Grrr fine, but if you get us caught I’m jabbing a knife in your ass.” The cloaked guy took out a pair of lockpicks he had in his pants. Through years of experience in pilfering through passing merchant caravans, he expertly stuck the lockpick in and wiggled it till it broke free.

  Lodur got out, making sure not to touch himself or anything with his hands until they were a safe distance away.

  “Thanks man. Follow me, I know a great place to hide.”

  They ran to the cemetery, just outside the village. Lodur knew this place like the back of his hand. Who knew the years of being made to clean grave stones would come in handy.

  “I’m Lodur by the way, what’s your name?”

  “Rob. And don’t point the obvious correlation with what I do.”

  Both of them sneaked past a maze of tombstones and offerings. Lodur bowed his head and prayed for the departed souls. Rob however, started pocketing food offerings and plates in a bag he had on hand. Lodur’s feet was tired from all the running and sneaking.

  Man, this would be quicker if only I had a horse, then maybe I’d get finally get out of here.

  He leaned on a nearby gravestone to catch his breath.

  Hmm, this gravestone seems a little fuzzy

  Lodur looked to where he was touching and was completely dumbfounded. Suddenly the rock that made up the tombs turned to hairy horse shaped flesh. The slab of stone morphed into the shape of an equine figure, only this one was a bit more stiff. He tripped and grabbed another tombstone, which then morphed into the shape of a horse, but limp and cold. He was now surrounded by two dead horses.

  “What the fuck!” Rob and Lodur yelled in unison. The shock of a sudden horse corpse appearing made the two of them jump.

  “What in the hells did you do?” Rob asked the black armed boy.

  “I-I don’t know, one moment I was thinking about horses and leaned on a nearby grave, then all of a sudden a dead horse appeared beside me.”

  Rob stared at the boy, well boy was relative since he was pretty sure they were the same age. His head turning gears, trying to find out how to make money off of something like this. He looked at a tomb and looked at Lodur. He did it a second time just to make sure, then he gave the biggest smile he could make.

  Rob pointed at a different tomb. “Do that again, touch that.”

  Lodur, through years of subservience and having never fully developed the ability for independent thought, did as he asked without question. The stone transformed into a corpse of a horse.

  “He...hehe....hahahahaha” Rob laughed. “Lodur, I’m gonna be rich!” He looked at the boy’s glassy eyes. “I mean we-were gonna be rich”

  “But how did I do that?”

  “It’s the curse my man.” Rob patted him on the shoulder. “I’ve heard stories of a guy getting curse to turn everything he touched into gold. Frankly, I wouldn’t consider something like that a curse.”

  “Oh, well what does that mean?”

  “It means we’re gonna be rich heeheeheehee.” Both of them danced at the idea of wealth.

  “Gosh, If I’m gonna be rich do you think i could taste that white stuff nobles use?”

  “Cocaine?”

  “No, sugar.”

  “Pal, with me around you’ll be eating sugar till you get sick of it.”

  Lodur smiled and raised his hand for a high five, but Rob swerved himself out of the way.

  “Okay maybe don’t touch me with that. I don’t want to become a dead horse.”

  A man carrying a lamp and a shovel yelled at them across the cemetery.

  “Grave looters! Shoo! Go away!”

  Rob and Lodur got spooked by this and suddenly ran towards the forest, still giggling from the idea of striking a fortune.

  With the adrenaline pumping in their veins mixed with the joy from the prospect of being rich, the two boys ran to the uncertain wilderness in pursuit of a life different from the ones they had.