The elderly who had none to care for them in this village were more than cast out. They were set at the edge of a village in a little hut that had naught but a couple thin, rough beds a couple flagons of water, stale bread, and little else. The Disappearing Hut, because the elderly always seemed to vanish from it.
@internutter/challenge-04507-l123-low-made-high -- Anon Guest
Word came to Pine Hills that there was a realm where the Lord sponsored the infirm and elderly. Including reserving some of his budget for public caregivers to look after the health and welfare of those who could not look after themselves. To Rein, it felt like a nursery tale. Something made up for people to daydream about.
Rein's local Lord was not like that made-up daydream Lord. He had the opinion that the weak deserved to perish and the strong had to live by the sweat of their collective brows. Children were only exempt because of their potential to be useful. And if one of the strong became weak? The Vanishing House.
A house outside the walls of the city-state, where the lord kept a week's worth of rations, a small cluster of bunk beds, and the barest minimum of blankets or firewood. The tax money for the House was a lot cheaper than a host of pensions, he argued.
Not that Rein could argue with him about it. They'd just been thrust into the Vanishing House. At least the Lord had allowed Rein time to gather what small treasures they valued most. That was what passed for mercy in Pine Hills.
Rein's only crime was having a dodgy leg in their old age. That, and not having any family or neighbours willing to look after them.
It was clear that the Lord did not expect anyone to live here for very long. The house was proof against the summer weather, but not prepared for the winter.
Rein was determined to survive anyway. They had a bow and arrows. They could dry or smoke whatever meat they caught. Find wild root vegetables and figure out how to lay in supplies for the snows. Starting with the first dawn in Rein's exile.
That was the plan.
In the night, after the city bells rang curfew, a devil came to their door.
Ze had a soft voice and a kind smile, as well as gently smoking eyes and claws. "I have come to invite you to better accommodations," said the Hellkin. "I can see you wish to defy the will of your reigning Lord to quietly die. Would you like to follow the Lord's will for you to vanish and yet live better than you ever have?"
Rein had not been previously inclined to trust a devilborn. Then again, they had spent their entire life trusting their Lord.
That one trust had been well betrayed, so Rein had nothing to lose. They picked up their belongings and said. "Fine. He's not selling anything of me for his profit."
The fit and healthy of Pine Hills assumed that animals "took care" of any mortal remains left inside the house. That bandits or looters "took care" of any belongings. They never questioned, because they never needed to.
Not until they had the misfortune of winding up in the Vanishing House.
[Photo by Ajeet Panesar on Unsplash]
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