Hari's bag of change rattled about on his hip as his horse walked the road of the inner city. The streets bustled with people who quickly rushed in every direction as he stumbled his way through the dizzying place. Hari's ride here had made him thirsty and tired. He was unable to find a stream or body of water for two days after he ran out of his brought supply. He had instantly regretted not bringing the pail after that, or more food from the forest at the very least. A dry throat and exhaustion would be a good reminder to buy a new pail with the small fortune he had hanging from his belt.

The guard at the castle gate was easily persuaded by Hari's money. When asked where he hailed from, Hari replied "one town over", but of course he did not know the name. It caused the guard a great deal of apprehension regarding a decision to let him through. That is, until the bag of riches caught his attention. Hari had never possessed money before- the forest wasn't a mercantile place, nor did it foster the need for a free market. Learning the value of gold coins and their various values proved to be rather useful, though the explanation Hari dragged out of the guard of how currency worked was confusing for both of them. Equipped with a meager knowledge of how much money he actually possessed in a city of peasants, he figured starting a new life as a normal person wouldn't be the uphill battle he imagined.

The street was constructed with cobblestones- some missing stones formed muddy puddles, weeds and moss sprouting from the cracks in which the stones were wedged apart. Hari noticed that the street was dirty with mud and excrement of horses that was smeared under people's feet. There was a smell that wafted into his nose, one that smelled like sweat and what the animals left behind. This dirt was trampled on by the feet of countless people, heads of those feet bobbing endlessly in a sea of strangers.

There was a new feeling to the city than the forest; one he didn't particularly enjoy. Back within the trees, he had grown used to every tree and stone that scattered the ground; so accustomed in fact he could recall seeing his surroundings even with that sac over his head. Even if he stayed the rest of his life here, the people around him would be all be strangers. He wouldn't be able to wander down every cobblestone street, enter every cafe, or buy from every open market. It was constantly moving, always new, and too big to experience in it's entirety. Hari recalled the irony in how his isolation brought him familiarity while a crowd brought him strangers who looked through him like a worthless member of the masses.

The shops and businesses that lined the walkway had windows with signs written in almost illegible smears, outlining prices and products. But there was one sign that was seen over and over again hanging in every window and door as he rode down the crowded walk. It had a large eye painted on it with three eyelashes, and a bold unsettling bulls eye pupil. Under it read:

Cursed people will be reported to the Community Watch. Cursed business not welcome.

Hari's chest tightened, causing him to then tighten his gloves in response. As long as these gloves were on, the curse was nothing but a suggestion. No one knew who he was, or where he came from. He knew they didn't care either. This place may not be paradise, but it was a place for Hari to start over and live the life he was robbed of. He was excited for the possibilities he could have here.

Descending his horse, he used the reins to guide it about. The steed was so compliant and docile, unfettered by the hustle and bustle around him. He needed a place to park his steed so he could go looking for residence options.

Amidst the crowd, there was a small stable tucked between two buildings, stuffed with hay and trowels of water. A man, lacking a sense of alertness, leaned backwards on a stool while resting his back on the wooden panel wall behind him. He held a wheat stalk between his lips with a straw hat, spotted with holes, hung over his eyes to block them from the sun. His fingernails were dirty, and he seemed sickly thin. Hari remarked how many people here seemed malnourished and pale.

The man stirred at Hari's presence, squinting his eyes as he inspected the boy up and down, making Hari nervous.

"You seem like an out-o-towner, boy," he rumbled, flicking his hat up off of his face.

"Y-yeah, I came from one town over." Hari sighed at having to use the same lie twice.

"Ah, yeh. Mah pa was from Infernum too." He drudged. "He's dead now. May he never rest in peace, that ass-licking devil."

Hari didn't know how to respond to that, so he paused. He wanted to blend in though, so he decided to play the cards he was handed.

"Was he Cursed?" Hari asked casually, trying to seem like a member of the kingdom.

The man's eyes locked on him.

"Yah saying my fam'ly's infected?"

Hari froze. Woopsy.

"Oh... no... i-it just seems to be a common problem here," Hari pitifully stammered, trying to dance around his mistake.

"I had an aunt who was cursed, Hari continued to ramble, trying to desperately distract the man from his earlier stumble. "She was gross. So we tied her to the back of a horse and let it run into the wild."

The man looked at Hari quizzically after his last remark, then to the horse. Hari held his breath, holding air in to avoid making a sound as he concentrated on figuring this out. He now realized the extent of his socially stunted state. Maybe he shouldn't talk as much. But then he realized why the man's eyes flashed to the horse.

"Oh, no not this one! This horse is clean." Hari patted the horse's neck, who looked on as if nothing was a at all a mess.

"She... he... they... are the best steed ever. They're cute, right?"

The horse's eyes blinked vacantly as Hari gestured in they're direction. The man looked on, unimpressed. Hari sighed. Yikes.

"Anyway..." Hari started to move away from this awkward exchange towards his real reason for bothering to talk to him. "I need to park him."

He looked at a sign over a stall, outlining fees were two coins for the whole day. He reached into his bag and felt two smooth pieces between his fingers.

"Here you go," he said politely, holding the coins in his palm. The man didn't move, glaring at the bag he assumed was full to the brim with gold.

"For you, the price just doubled."

Out four coins and down a horse, Hari huffed his way through the streets. What a scam, but at least his horse was safe. Now to find a place for Hari to refresh. He was still thirsty after all.

Traversing the streets, Hari was interested in the people- if not for good reasons, alarming ones. The open markets held food that was hardly fresh, with bruises and spots. He witnessed a fist fight over an orange that lacked a dark spot on it's rind, enacted by two old women with canes. It caused the whole stack of fruit to tumble to the dirty street, causing a crowd to storm the stand, clawing at the elderly brawlers' feet in hopes of stealing as many fruit as possible before the stall owner chased them away. Hari decided to walk away faster when he saw the owner reach for a shovel.

Remembering his travesty of the spoken word that was so bad it cost him money, he decided to speak as little as possible. Luckily, the people of the city were loud and rambunctious so he figured listening to their conversations would teach him more about the city as he looked for a place to dine.

He found a jewelry store set up to face the bustling masses, crowded with people looking at the selection. The jewelry shone in the light, colorful stones swelling from gold rings, silver chains, and earring buds. Hari's attention was drawn to a purple stone, encrusted with tiny rocks of red and blue. It was only 10 coins, a steal for such a beautiful piece. But he didn't need anything to draw any attention to himself.

Two women with baskets came to the stall, gasping at the display. They were both wearing varying shades of red dresses that were patched with rags to repair holes that once plagued the fabric. Their hair was done up in a fashion that Hari personally thought was overdone for such unfavorable clothes.

"My my, these prices!" exclaimed one of them, leaning in to take a closer look. "If my Harold could lasso me up such a rock, I would give him the night of his life!"

Hari didn't know what she meant by that. Would she do his chores the whole night long? It seemed exhausting just for a shiny rock.

"To dream, Tabitha. To dream!" exclaimed the other, shifting her stained hat that flopped against the breeze.

"We'll I hear that some dreams can turn into nightmares," said Tabitha, bathed in a tone that demanded reciprocation.

"Do drop the kettle, Anne," Tabitha insisted, inspecting a necklace more closely. "The tea seems piping today."

"I heard Terressa's husband was part of the curse purge last month," she said with a touch of disdain, putting down a brooch she had fiddled about in her hand while speaking.

Anne sighed loudly, clearly in disgust.

"Praise be the Watch that exposed his illness," she said, placing her hand over her heart. "What of Terressa and the daughter?"

"They are said to be cleansed in the coming days too- they were family of a cursed wretch after all. They must foster the curse as well," She muttered, smoothing her dress with her hands as she hiked up her basket to leave.

"What a shame. The wee girl was an angel; but I guess the devil is able to disguise himself in many ways. At least the girl will not suffer for years to come. She will never get the chance to let her infection rob her of humanity."

They shuffled away to the next stand, mindlessly window shopping as they gossiped their way around. Hari didn't know what the Watch was supposed to be, and what this "cleansing" was, but he didn't need to worry. Here, he wasn't cursed if the gloves were on.

Close by, a crowd was beginning to gather around a small booth, children at the front and their parents in the back behind them. Hari squeezed in to see the commotion, which appeared to be a puppet show for kids; the sign above the display read The Watch!. Maybe this is what Tabitha and Anne were stalking about. He saw a set of puppets bob under hands in the window acting as a stage, voices giving them life.

"Whoa there, Candace!" said a blue puppet, old and tattered. Hari had missed a scene, but he guessed the other sock had tried to hug the blue one, causing this scene to unfold.

"You should be more careful! You never know who is afflicted. You shouldn't touch anyone unless they are proven to be clean!" The hand underneath the sock made a face of discontent. The red one, Candace apparently, shook her head, causing a small wave of laughter from the crowd. Hari didn't get what was funny.

"Oh, Bert!" she exclaimed in a comedic fashion. "You worry too much! I'll be fine!"

Bert shook his head in exhaustion before leaving the stage. A third sock, black this time, crept onto the stage. The crowd hissed and booed, the kids shouting for Candace to look out behind her.

"Hello, Candace!" she spoke in an eerie voice, low and mysterious. Candace turned.

"Oh Mary, my old friend!" Candace said happily. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know. I'm just looking for a victim- I mean... company." The crowd booed again, waving their fists at this supposedly sketchy creature named Mary. The man behind Hari yelled "Cleanse her!" very loudly, making Hari jump.

"Why don't you hold my hand, Candace?" the black sock spoke, causing the crowd to stir angrily in response.

"I don't see why not!" Candace said foolishly as the crowd grew restless.

Bert, the blue sock, appeared again, the crowd cheering in relief.

"Stop, Candace! She's afflicted with the curse!" Candace then recoiled away.

'What!?" She exclaimed in disgust. "You tried to afflict me! I thought we were friends!"

The dark sock snickered, soon evolving into a full out cackle. The crowd grew silent, as if they didn't want to miss what she was going to say next. Hari picked up on the fact that these people had probably seen this puppet show many times. They knew the ques well, and were invested in the supposed lesson it was trying to communicate.

"I live to infect, I stopped being your friend the moment I was afflicted. I am a hollow shadow, a disgusting blight that only lives to ruin your kind. You can't stop me without a cure!"

Mary laughed hysterically, sneaking closer and closer to Candace and Bert. Bert then yelled "Community Watch! Please help us!" and a fourth sock quickly appeared. It was white and noticeably cleaner than the other socks, with the familiar red eye form the signs around the city on it's face that seemed to glare straight at Hari despite being in a big crowd. The people cheered again, stirred up by this new character introduction to the story. He must be the hero.

"Your reign of terror is over, beast!" he exclaimed, tackling Mary to the ground in a valiant struggle. A prop of prison bars was placed on part of the stage window, locking Mary up as she shook in frustration.

"No!" she cried. "My mission is ruined thanks to the Community Watch, funded by the Adofo royal family!"

"That's right, kids!" said the white sock, facing the audience now. "If you ever suspect someone of being cursed, tell your local Community Watch members and they will take them away to the prison, waiting for the curse purges to cleanse them."

The crowd started clapping, the socks bowing after their performance. Kids were gathered by their parents, and the crowd dispersed as the stage was dismantled by the two people who breathed life into the colorful linens behind the stage.

The show ended just as quickly as it began; it's lesson was vague but held some light on some questions he had. The cleansing part was still a mystery, but he assumed he would find it out at some point on his journey. All he needed to know for now was to stay away from the Community Watch, who bore the strange eye insignia he had seen plastered on signs all around the city. There wasn't a single place he stood where a flier, a sign, or a window didn't remind him of the impending threat to him. He tightened his gloves before sheepishly scuttling away to blend in to the rushing people around him.

He felt the omnipresent eye on him at all times, because it was. The red pierced through the crowds, the ink bleeding down the pages plastered in many windows. He couldn't tell whether it reminded him of blood or crying, but the general mood of anxiety the symbol filled him with was undeniable. He started shivering from the pupil shooting a cold glare through him, exposing his true self. Trying to calm himself down, he sighed and crossed his arms across his body to make himself smaller.

The paper couldn't tell he was afflicted, right?