by Ink Bamboo
The improvement Zaros’s skills achieved over a week could be said to exceed all of his expectations. Even if Zaros had received guidance from a couple hunters in his village, how could their skills compare to someone who had risen to the ranks of a god? Each one of Amro’s pointers struck the essence behind the issue, leaving no flaws in his advice.
Even then, Amro couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It was easy to teach a child how to grab a tool and use it, but to train them into masters of their craft required something else. It required talent — one the boy had not been given by the heavens.
With that in mind, Amro came up with a plan. Who better to go against the heaven’s will than him? He had fought a big part of the pantheon after all.
If the heavens didn’t give Zaros talent, then Amro would do it himself. The plan to slowly reform the boy’s body using his own knowledge as the base slowly took shape.
Amro’s plan aside, the journey eventually came to an end. The border town they had aimed to reach was now visible on the horizon. Through Zaros’s eyes, Amro faced what would be the starting point of his new adventure.
Zaros, on the other hand, faced the town with complex feelings. He had always wished to travel outside the forest, albeit not in these conditions. Now, he was here on his own. No longer a child with a dream, but a boy with a grudge.
Should I report the mercenaries’ attack to one of the guilds? he wondered. No, Amro is probably right. There is a chance the people here were involved as well. I better focus on sneaking my way in the town.
From atop a tree, Zaros could see everything beyond the town's walls. Buildings made out of brick, stone or wood intermingled along the streets. The simple notion of having paved streets displayed just how much more structured and civilized the life inside this town was compared to the life inside the small village he had come from.
“You should be careful when entering the town,” said Amro. “We don’t know if those mercenaries had people here waiting to catch any stragglers. I could probably deal with them, but it is better not to get yourself in such a situation.”
As he listened to Amro, Zaros’s eyes traced the town’s walls. After a few minutes of looking around, his gaze finally landed on the western side. The buildings near that area were much more simple and shabby than those in the rest of the town. It reminded him of his own humble shack.
“That seems like a good spot to enter from,” advised Amro. People were less likely to pay attention to those from the slums. More often than not, their low social standing provided them with a sort of protection.
“Very well,” said Zaros, climbing down from the tree. It didn’t take long for him to merge back into the forest. Using the trees and greenery as his cover, he managed to move further towards the western side of town undetected.
He thought about changing his appearance, realizing it wasn’t worth it to do so after a moment. Days of wandering inside the woods guaranteed that he could look like someone coming from the slums without much effort. Now, he only had to wait.
Once the sun disappeared below the horizon, Zaros exited the forest with a struggling rabbit in his hands. The small critter whined, trying to free itself from the boy’s grasp. Surprisingly, it wasn’t enough to call attention upon himself. The lazy guards standing at the gates didn’t see him until he was already dangerously close to them.
A barrel-chested man was the first to react to Zaros’s arrival. His appearance was as polished as his discipline, making him look no different from Zaros’s in his current messy state. With an annoyed expression on his face, the guard moved to block Zaros’s path.
“Hey, you!” he said, clear despise for Zaros in his eyes. “What are you doing outside? You know there are orders for no one to exit the town for the time being.”
Zaros lowered his head in order to hide his expression. Anger mixed annoyance were starting to surface. Never did he think he would still receive the same treatment even outside his village.
On his side, Amro shared Zaros’s feelings regarding the guard’s behavior. He decided to remember the guard’s aura in order to pay him back for his manners later on. Moments like this made him reminiscence about his followers’ fear and respect.
The guard felt a small shiver go down his back as a terrible premonition filled him. Nonetheless, he kept on nagging Zaros, using the pleasure derived from berating him to appease the fear in his heart.
"You punks from the slums are always making our lives harder! Can’t you see how hard we have it already? How am I supposed to sleep when I have to stand up and deal with people like you every other hour?" The guard kept blabbering about his suffering so much that it appeared like it would never end.
"I am sorry sir, I was hungry," said Zaros in a mild tone. He knew that being confrontational now wouldn’t bring him any benefits. Thus, he chose to act as meekly as possible.
Zaros had planned out his entrance during the last couple of hours. Everything was an act, one made to ensure as little attention as possible would fall upon him. Even the rabbit in his hands was part of it. As the weakest creature in the forest, it helped reinforce his current persona.
"Well, I am too," retorted the guard as he stared at the rabbit in Zaros’s hands. "Perhaps we can strike up a deal. That small rabbit of yours isn't enough to fill up a growing child like yourself. Let me have it and I'll overlook your violation of the curfew."
Zaros was surprised at the man's display of greed. Did he really have the heart to take a meal away from someone younger than him? Zaros didn’t need this food right now, but many others before him might have. It was no wonder the man was shaped like a water drop.
If he wasn’t forced by the situation, Zaros would have broken away from his act. Alas, he had no choice at the moment. It would’ve been unwise to act on his feeling. Thus, he put on a pained expression, pretending to be placed between a rock and a hard place.
“Sir, could you please reconsider?”
"No! You have two choices: you can give up the rabbit or you can enjoy a night’s sleep outside," said the guard. He knew no child from the slums would risk sleeping near the woods, not when there were dangerous beasts lurking in the forest.
Continuing his act, Zaros showed some hesitation before handing over the rabbit.
“I see you understand what the correct choice is,” said the guard as he took the rabbit from Zaros’s hands. “Go in. If I see you outside again, you won't be able to escape my anger.”
With that situation handled, Zaros made his way inside the town. His plan was a complete success… almost. At the very least, he'd been able to enter at the ‘low’ cost of his afternoon snack.
“Congratulations, kid,” commented Amro from within his host. “Your acting skills might be as good as your appetite. If your luck is as good as both those things, we might be able to find everything we need inside this town.”
“That man was nothing like the hunters from our village,” said Zaros, still unfamiliar with the outside world. "He lacks honor and integrity."
“Kid, your understanding of the world is still lacking,” said Amro. “Situations like this are the norm. The weak will always be bullied by the strong. Just think about those men that came to decimate your village under the king's orders."
Zaros lowered his gaze and clenched his hands into fists. The life at his old settlement had been nothing but a bubble — one bound to explode when someone stronger than him willed it. As things were, he lacked the power to control his own fate.
As Zaros stepped into the town, several stares locked into him. The people of the slums knew each other very well, so a new and unfamiliar face like Zaros’s had gathered the attention of many.
Unaware to the intentions of those around him, Zaros took in the view of his new surroundings. A simple gasp of admiration left his mouth. Even the slums of this town had an impressive atmosphere to someone like him.
Amro, on the other hand, decided to remain quiet. The greed contained within the gazes targeting h
is host would eventually drive their owners to do something stupid. When they did, he would be ready, waiting to reap some benefits.
Chapter 08
The Slums.
Zaros continued to take in his surroundings. The number of buildings around him was staggering. The level of deterioration they had, however, was just as impressive. The condition of this side of town evidenced exactly how much importance it had to the general populace: none.
As he walked further inside, Zaros noticed that the walls of the buildings were covered in all kinds of posters. Some of them were bounties for certain people, while others talked about the recruitment of workers for different jobs. Amongst them, a particular poster caught Zaros’s attention.
It depicted a sketch of the forest, partially cut down by a burly lumberjack. On the man’s hand, a small bag of gold was depicted as his apparent reward. The poster looked like an attempt to recruit able-bodied men to work in a large-scale logging project. Was this what they had intended to do to his home?
Zaros felt frustrated, it took great effort for him to hold back from tearing down the announcement. Eventually, he realized it did him no good to continue stewing in his anger. Thus, his gaze left the poster. He still had to look for a place to sleep.
His odd behavior, however, was enough to get a target placed on his back. The few possessions of his — a crude knife, a small bag containing his clothes, and some furs he'd gathered while hunting in the forest — were already considered a sizeable amount of wealth by the hoodlums. Thus, Zaros’s ‘small fortune’ had gathered him an undesirable amount of attention.
Not that he was aware of it.
Zaros had seen this large town from a distance, helping him learn of its general layout. Seeing it up front, however, gave him a different impression of this place. The living conditions, the stench in the air, and the deterioration. All of it provided information he wasn’t able to gather from far away.
Some people laid deathly still at the side of the streets, the thread holding their lives from departure unfortunately thin. Children fought for near-rotten food, and many with eyes void of hope just sat waiting for their end to come. The poor living conditions of this side of town pained Zaros’s heart.
What shocked Zaros the most was an old man sitting against the wall of a deteriorated building. It was clear that he had lost a leg from the way his skin stuck to his bones. Just like the rest, he seemed to have been starving for a long time. A small piece of wood laid in front of him with a poorly written scribble.
"Lost my leg in the war, please help," it said.
The pain this sight brought upon Zaros’s heart hit too close to home. Even his father had been conscripted to join the army, his whereabouts still unknown. Was this the fate of this nation’s soldiers? What kind of country would ditch those who had sacrificed their lives against their own will?
Sensing Zaros’s fluctuating heartbeat, Amro chimed in. "Child, this is the way of the world. If you truly wish to change it, rise to the challenge. Indignation without power amounts to nothing."
Amro’s words did nothing to appease Zaros’s feelings, however. Instead, they only managed to redirect his anger to himself — to his lack of strength, his uselessness, and his ignorance of the world.
Once he adjusted his mindset, Zaros approached the starving veteran. Carefully, he placed some of his dried rations onto the man’s lap. Even if he was powerless to change the fate of this old man, he hoped his small act of kindness would serve to show his gratitude for the services the man had done for his country.
The old man's clouded gaze rose to meet Zaros’s eyes. A trace of a faint smile rose onto his lips, helping him convey his thanks. Zaros returned the gesture with a bow as he lowered his head to conceal his expression. He was afraid that the pained look on his face might wound the pride of the former soldier.
Is this how the royalty treats its citizens? wondered Zaros. They don’t even bother with someone who gave his physical integrity for them.
Amro, on the other hand, found the situation rather amusing. Silly boy, the fact that he is still alive should be reason enough to consider him fortunate.
Zaros eventually rose from his bow, leaving the man behind. Each day that went by only gave him more reasons to hate the royalty of his nation. Attacking innocent villages, using their own people as disposable pawns — there was no way their sins could be forgiven. Those were not the actions of rulers. No, those were the actions of tyrants.
Alas, Zaros’s small act of kindness had spelled a death sentence for the old man. Without the strength to protect your own possessions, too big of a gift was the same as plastering a target on your back.
After Zaros’s departure, several hoodlums pounced onto the old man. They robbed him of everything he had, leaving him worse off than before.
In addition, this attracted even more gazes from those who had been targeting Zaros from the start. After all, kindness was a rare trait to those of the slums. To them, Zaros’s actions were nothing short of a display of weakness.
Even Amro pondered over whether his host’s heart would be able to keep up with the ever-growing scenarios he would need to face. His naïve nature needed to be pruned, eliminated.
Ignorant of the consequences his actions held, Zaros decided to look for somewhere to pass the night. Unfortunately, he had no money on him as he had left it all behind. As things were, he was left with no option but to enjoy the warmth of the ground.
Eventually, Zaros managed to find an empty alleyway. It smelled like death, but both the boy and Amro had grown used to this scent. Finding a place inside, Zaros decided to cover himself with an extra layer of clothes before going to sleep.
Once his consciousness faded away, he found himself inside Amro’s soul domain. This had been his routine for the past week. Every time he fell asleep, he would find himself surrounded by the same endless black void.
Zaros’s mind eventually grew fatigued from not being allowed to take a break. However, Amro insisted that he wouldn’t be given time to rest during a battle either. It was evident that Amro was adamant about tempering both the boy’s body and mind.
Seeing his host’s consciousness arrival, Amro sighed. Whenever he saw the ambition and innocence in Zaros’s eyes, he was reminded of his time as a mortal. It had been millennia since he'd been this close to someone other than a god. Things like struggles, ambitions, and pain had lost their meaning to him long ago.
Being bound to this child, however, had reminded him of his past self. Had he maintained the same desire for self-improvement as Zaros, he might have been able to go beyond his limits. Alas, it was already too late for regrets.
"Kid, you're still too green behind your ears," said Amro, intent on dispelling his own gloomy thoughts. Far from being a mortal, he had learned to hide his emotions better than most.
Zaros snorted, unable to comprehend why Amro reacted like this whenever they interacted.
"Do you wish to continue training today, or do you want to rest for a while?" offered Amro in a rare display of kindness.
Zaros was taken aback. This was the first time Amro had offered him a chance to rest. ‘Only the strong can rest,’ was his usual motto.
"Is that okay?" he asked.
Amro's shadowy figure nodded. He had other plans for tonight.
"Thanks," said Zaros, no longer hesitating. His figure slowly vanished from Amro's soul domain as he fell into a deeper slumber.
Amro sighed. He knew how much he would have to keep pushing the young boy if they were ever to attain their revenges. At least for tonight, his plans happened to give him the chance to offer the young man some rest.
Following Zaros’s descent into darkness, Amro's consciousness surfaced, now in control of their shared body.
Almost immediately, two figures entered the alleyway. It was clear what they had intended to do, seeing how they had appeared shortly after Zaros apparent asleep.
Amro opened his eyes whilst controlling Zaros’s body. He s
tood up and rotated his shoulders. The body of the child left him feeling slightly stifled every time he took control of it. Getting used to the constrictions of a mortal body was no pleasant feeling.
"Oh, so he was just pretending," said one of the figures who had entered the alley. He was a tall, skinny teenager with pale skin and dirty hair. The shabby clothes on him revealed his place as someone from the slums.
"That’s probably right, brother. I just can't help but wonder… where did a rat like this scurry out from?" replied the girl next to him, evidently trying to act rough. "He’s probably the bastard child of a noble who's been discarded by his family. No, never mind, scratch that. There is no way a bastard would wear clothes that badly damaged; not even us have to deal with that."
It was clear from the expression on her face that she felt nothing but scorn for an unfamiliar face like Zaros’s. Perhaps her own experiences as a child of the slums had made her look down on those outsiders, for she envied not being one of them. Unfortunately for her, Amro was able to see through it all, considering her actions nothing more than child’s play.
"It’s looks like humanity will never change," said Amro, rising to his feet. "You lot like to look for trouble even when trouble does not come looking for you."
"Oh, it seems like the little noble has yet to experience the streets," replied the tall, skinny fellow.
"It looks like he needs to experience humiliation," said the girl, taking another step towards Amro. “Consider this our help in making you more humble.”
With that said, she cracked her knuckles before running towards her target. Her intent to strip him away from everything he owned was clear from how her eyes momentarily deviated from Amro onto his belongings.
Amro wasn’t surprised, however. Even if he understood what they were there for, he had no plans to let them have their way. He simply shook his head as the young girl lunged in his direction. It seemed she planned to tackle him onto the ground.