Toward the South of the city were rolling hills, spanning little in height and width. They were positioned directly behind the city before diverging into the forest. Looking at it plainly, one would have assumed the hills were once wondrous mountains that eroded with time. However, these hills were not formed naturally, rather, they were created through human means.
It was foretold that for centuries, two higher beings fought in these hilly grasslands, their energy morphing the flat plains into incredible mountains that pierced the sky, nearly reaching the heavens. On their own, these would be quite interesting hills, nevertheless, no one would even glance at it if this was solely the case. Instead, scholars had assumed that due to the large amount of energy the two beings used when battling; an energy now called mana; the mountains that were flooded with it naturally condensed it and spread it through the hill because of the sheer amount. In its effort, it supported life and the formation of an uncommon material, a mana crystal.
The carriage wheels slowly stopped on the thin gravel. Sounds of crushing rocks flew through the air as the carriage’s movement caused dust to scatter. In front of Ozias and the coachman were high walls, more heavily guarded than those of the city. On every corner post and in between were men dawned in leather armor, watching the inside and out. At its center was a small hill with its innards vandalized.
From in front of Ozias and the coachman, a large wooden drawbridge came down onto the ground as men dawned in leather armor walked towards the two. Leading them was a fit man wearing high-quality clothes. Arriving next to the carriage, the man looked at Ozias inside the metal bars before speaking.
“Is this the boy the countess was speaking of?”
The coachman quickly dismounted before walking towards Ozias.
“Yes, Sir Giorgos, he is Ozias, the countess’s special toy. He is no longer needed at the manor, so the countess has decided to put him to greater work. However, it should have all been written in the note the countess sent.”
From Giorgos’s breast pocket came a neatly folded note which held the seal of the count.
“Yes, I was just ensuring that this was the proper boy.”
Giorgos walked past the coachman to the metal cage Ozias was locked in.
“Ozias, it must have been fate that brought you here. Be consoled to know that you will be put to work, just as the countess intended.”
From inside the cage, Ozias glared at Giorgos, attempting to analyze his character. But to his surprise, instead of noting his disrespect, Giorgos looked past it as he continued.
“Though, you are quite smaller than I had anticipated. Judging from your size, you could hardly hold a pic, let alone swing it.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Giorgos thought for a moment before giving up.
“Haaah, I’ll ponder on it later, for now, bring him in, and let’s get him situated.”
Giorgos quickly turned before stopping. For multiple seconds, he stood still as his eyes lit in a scary white glow before looking back toward Ozias.
“Boy, take your shirt off.”
“!!”
Ozias Looked at Giorgos before small chills ran down his spine. By this point, he knew what he was using.
Acting to his will, Ozias remained seated and carefully removed his shirt.
Giorgos saw the deep slash and smiled as he exclaimed.
“Ha! I should have known the Countess would have sent me such a deficient product.”
The Coachman twitched from behind Giorgos but did not move due to the power emanating from him.
“Boy, I am quite curious, who did this to you?”
Ozias looked up from his chest and stared at Giorgos, trying to grasp his intention. Yet through the brief look the two held, Ozias could note nothing. To him, Giorgos felt like a locked book, holding the contents inside closely. In response to this feeling, Ozias thought for a moment before speaking to Giorgos for the first time.
“Are you speaking of the slash on my chest or the various bruises on me?”
Giorgos’s smile faded as he stared at the deep slash in his chest.
“I am more curious about the slash on your chest, but you can also speak of the marks on your body if you would like.”
‘This man, I really can’t understand his intentions!’
Giorgos seemed to have read Ozias’s mind as he clarified his thoughts.
“Haaah, if you truly want to know why I am asking… It is because I can see it. The remnant energy of garant on your being.”
“What are you speaking of?”
Ozias looked at him with numerous questions on his mind.
‘What is garant? Why would there still be some on me? Could it be the power the instructor used on me yesterday?’
As these questions floated through Ozias’s mind, Giorgos looked from Ozias’s chest to his face as he noted the confusion on Ozias’s face.
“Someone hit you with an attack imbued with garant recently, right? You must have seen it as it happened, an energy that completely overwhelmed you.”
Ozias realized now that he was speaking of the hit from yesterday.
‘That energy was called garant. What my father had used on me back then as well, was garant.’
“Well?”
Ozias snapped out of thought as Giorgos walked closer. Ozias saw no reason to lie as he spoke to him.
“Yesterday, an instructor in the manor hit me across the chest with a wooden sword, while the rest of my bruises are from those inside the manor.”
Giorgos stared at the garant on Ozias’s chest for a moment before looking to the coachman.
“You, since when was there an instructor at the manor?”
The coachman looked taken aback before answering his question.”
“I do not know much of the inner workings of the manor, sir.”
Giorgos sighed before signaling for his men to go back through the drawbridge.
“Ozias, I’m surprised you’re even alive right now.”
“!”
Giorgos looked at Ozias’s golden hair for a moment before walking with his men.
“It must be fate that you’re alive right now. Either that or you may be a stronger boy than I first thought.”
“…”
“Get accustomed, and I’ll get you help later today. Coachman, bring him in.”
Ozias stared at Giorgos briefly, truly not understanding him. While the coachman quickly ran back to the carriage and whipped the horses to move into the inner walls.