Eighth Earthsday of the Titan, 1258 A.E.
In the scorching sun of the desert, the slave caravan had been travelling for the last two days without seeing any sign of life. The slaves were clearly showing restlessness and it was spreading. Lazarus noted that the two reptilian slave drivers seated outside of the cage, guarding the slaves in case someone had the brilliant idea to escape through these half-decayed iron bars.
As Lazarus gazed towards the endless sands, an old man suddenly approached him. His pants were ragged as if worn for 40 years, and the smell was musty beyond imagination. His face was unrecognizable owing to the wild growth of his beard. While his eyes where seemingly squinted, Lazarus felt a warm gaze looking at him.
- ”Why do you gaze so intensely, boy? Are you trying to murder the desert critters with your glare?”
The old man scratched his beard with an expression much alike a scholar contemplating the current on-goings of the world.
- ”What do you want old man?”
Without even as much as facing the old man, Lazarus retorted.
- ”Oho, no respect for seniority I see. Hahaha, you remind me of myself in my younger days, boy! Ho ho ho”
His laugh was loud enough to catch the attention of the guards, because there was some strange allure to it. As if, his words actually carried some power at some point in his life. The other slaves caught a quick glimpse of the old man, and quickly returned to their prior activities.
- ”Is that so."
While not amused, Lazarus had been intrigued by this old man and his antics. He was nothing alike the other slaves. Where the other slaves where all brawn without even a speck of brain, this seemingly old person had something. Lazarus was however not sure what that something was, but something compelled him to continue the conversation.
- ”Why don’t you answer my question old man?”
Lazarus wanted to get back on track and figure out why this old man actually approached him to start with.
- ”You’re quite cheeky for a toddler, are you not?”
The old man was quite amused. One could not expect Lazarus being a measly 3 years old, to know whom he was. However, most people on the caravan knew the old man, even the slave drivers knew him. He was known as the hermit due to his behavior. Prior to this day, he had never stayed near anyone for an extended duration much less initiate a conversation.
- ”I have seen how you observe everything, boy. I have never met one like you. One with frightening curiosity. I have also seen how you look at other people. You don’t like people do you?”
Suddenly the old man had a more stern face. His eyes were wide open, as if staring deep into the very depths of Lazarus’ soul.
- ”Wh-wh-what could you be referring to? I do no such thing"
Lazarus stuttered. He was caught off-guard. He had not been aware that it was so obvious that he observed people and that his stare showed his contempt for people. While it was true that he observed everything and he did not hate people. He only hated certain people.
As he silently thought about this, the adrenaline started pumping in his veins as if trying to burst out of his skin. His body was shaking all over and his eyesight lost focus.
- ”Calm down, boy!"
The old man shouted with such demeanor that even the foulest of creatures would stop for a second to see what just happened.
*ding*
What was that? The old man mentioned something about how I obser- Ahh. The memories he supposedly had gone through just a minute ago starting reappearing in his mind. I guess I haven’t learned to control my emotions yet.
The old man observed the still-picture of Lazarus. For the last few minutes, Lazarus had not moved an inch. Of course, this was unknown to Lazarus who had just experienced a short amnesia while being in a comatose like state after being stunned by the magic that the old man exhibited through his voice.
As Lazarus gained control of his senses and his mind, he was ready to reengage in the prior conversation.
- ”Perhaps I have been observing a lot, but would that not be most natural, as I have been growing up, and still am for that matter, not knowing a thing about this world?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The words that came out of Lazarus would have shocked any of the slaves. No three-year-old slave in this caravan would be able to formulate logical arguments in a conversation.
*ding*
To the surprise of the onlookers, the old man casually answered as if he expected an answer along the lines of what came out of Lazarus’ mouth.
- ”While you can learn a lot by observing, there will be things you miss just as well. The things you can observe as a slave are limited, son.” The old man chuckled. “Take a look at the sky for instance. Is it not interesting how the sky is enveloped in a green light as if the light was caressing the sky? While the light is spectacular, it is but a rupture in the skies from which mana is oozing out.”
The old man continued speaking to Lazarus for quite a while. Lazarus was quite disinterested, but opted to gaze at the sky to humor the old man. Contrary to his initial thoughts, this went on for days.
*ding*
This old man is quite the font of wisdom! I will have to take note of what he says, Lazarus thought to himself, while making a mental note. Luckily, for Lazarus his only redeeming skill was his impeccable memory, which had carried over from his last life. I should also do something about these bell-like sounds. In that case, learning the written language is of the highest priority .
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Eighth Saintsday of the Titan, 1258 A.E.
Lazarus had started to warm up to the old man and frequently shared conversations with him. Of course he convinced himself that this was only for the sake of learning about the world, and boy did he learn about the world. Just as predicted, the old man certainly was a font of wisdom so knowledgeable that no one would bat an eye if he were the foremost scholar about this world.
However, he was not. He was but a slave living the same life as Lazarus. The guards also hit him every day resulting in bruises all over, only to suffer from the harassment from the other slaves. Even in a society of slaves, the hierarchy was apparently, and this certainly did not sit well with Lazarus.
Be it in this world or that world they are all the same. Humans are despicable. Always wanting to step on others and look down on others. Fine. If you desire it that much, I shall rise to the top to step on all of you, and look down on you like no other has ever done.
The veins, filled with rage coursing in his blood, was appearing on his skin while he vehemently kept his anger in control. The insides of his body were boiling and he felt as if his heart was burning with a pain so sharp that it felt like a hundred rusted spears pierced him.
Locked on to the people who harassed the old man, his piercing glare was awe striking. While they kept kicking, the old man squirmed. If they had noticed the glare of Lazarus they would be cowering in fear, since even a battle-hardened veteran would feel frightened by the sheer amount of pressure coming from his glare; It was ominous, to say the least.
*ding*
Just as Lazarus was about to get up, to do something about it, somebody grabbed his arm to stop him.
- ”I would not get involved if I was you. They would kill for less than what you just did, you are lucky they did not notice how you glared at them”
What Lazarus saw when he looked towards the origin of the voice, was another slave child his age. Slightly taller, slightly heavier and slightly more bruised.
- ”What does it matter to you?”
Lazarus snapped back at the boy who just stopped him, while his glare shifted towards him instead.
- ”Trust me, if you want to survive in this environment. I’ve learned it the hard way.”
The boy said, as his face grimaced signaling that a horrific memory resurfaced.
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