Connor was still working on various tasks that a village could ask for. Chopping wood. Skinning animal carcasses. Harvesting fruits from plants and trees. Cooking and frying food. Making bread (something that confused Connor). Harvesting from the few crops they had (where there was wheat, clearing up Connor's confusion). Plowing the fields. Fishing. Setting traps...
In summary, he was becoming the jack of all trades in the village, helping anyone in need or request. Few breaks to rest and focus on something other than work. Perhaps the only time he could be relatively alone was when chopping wood.
For several weeks, he always had something to do, sometimes struggling to keep up with the demand. It was a new experience for him, never having an office job where he did various things most of the time. It was refreshing to do almost everything the village needed, constantly occupied with something different.
Of course, the first days were tough. Even with his Elven body, he got exhausted from the workload. Yet, he quickly adapted to his new busy life. Despite doing everything, he enjoyed ending the day by chopping wood. It reached a point where he prepared the wood in the morning to cut it at his own pace later.
Another notable thing was that everyone in the village was on the same rhythm as Connor. Those not working were the younger children (or in this case, pups). One thing, however, still bothered Connor's mind:
Why were there only 35 Primates in the village?
Connor wanted to ask several times, but either he was given an order before asking or was busy with the endless tasks. Frustrating, but not wanting to cause more trouble for himself (and also to avoid constantly holding back his anger with Ukk), he decided to just continue what he was doing. Working tirelessly.
Honestly, it feels good to be useful, to have a purpose. Knowing that his help is benefiting those around him. That's the feeling of pride. Not the bad kind, where your ego is praised, but knowing that his efforts were technically being rewarded.
He felt this way when he was with Grandpa, also felt it when he met Carlos. In fact, when he wasn't arrested, thanks to Carlos.
FLASHBACK
Daniel was leaving the Hellenz Police Station, a somewhat normal sight, but he wasn't leaving because bail was paid; it was because, for the first time, he was going to trial. Knowing nothing about lawyers, he sought help from a public defender.
Perhaps not everyone knows, but the best lawyers are public defenders. Or rather, the best lawyers can be found among public defenders. They are usually recent graduates who have obtained the documents to practice in the field, so the law is fresh in their memory.
Daniel didn't know this. He couldn't afford a lawyer, so he decided to risk being arrested with a simple defense rather than just being sent to jail.
He was accused (with various pieces of evidence) of Assault and Moral Damages. As it was the third time this happened, bail was no longer an option; he had to go to trial and probably see a psychologist to deal with his anger issues.
Daniel went out to meet his lawyer. His name, Carlos Henrique. A simple man, with short hair and a worn-out suit. Probably not his only job, but it must be his only suit.
"Come with me," Carlos commanded.
"Why...?"
"Because I said so. Unless you want to go straight to jail."
Daniel wanted to punch him in the face, but like it or not, he was his lawyer. He must have his reasons for being in a hurry. This didn't lessen the desire to harm him, but anyway.
Daniel got into Carlos's car, a simple gray hat. They went to a café, something he wasn't used to seeing. However, it was comforting to see that the place was simple, with booths as tables, and high stools. They could talk without anyone overhearing.
The waitress appeared to take their orders.
"Hello! Welcome to Aunty Café, would you like anything?"
'We're at the cafe just to kill time. Of course, we'll order something, idiot.'
That's what Daniel thought.
"Two cappuccinos without cinnamon, two omelets with cheese and ham, and two slices of cornbread cake."
He had to admit, that is quite a delicious order.
"Of course! It should be ready in about 5 minutes."
"How much will it cost?"
"$55.95."
Carlos hands a $50 bill and a $10 bill, signaling to keep the change as a tip. Five cents, but still.
"Now that we're alone. I'm going to ask you some simple questions," said Carlos, taking out a notebook.
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself? Or ask my name? Nothing?"
Carlos stops flipping through the notebook and looks at Daniel's face.
"Don't take it the wrong way, but I already know your name. I know what you've been accused of, your criminal record... I'm your public defender. No need for friendliness," he said in a 'straight to the point' tone.
Daniel was confused, but this 'no time wasted' doctrine earned his full respect.
"Okay... You want to do your job, and I want to get back to my life. Fair enough."
"First: Tell me about what happened briefly."
"You didn't say you already know?"
...
...
...
...
"So... I asked my grandpa about 3 years ago to enroll me in a boxing gym. Basic stuff. He did it after I insisted a lot. I started training and got into numerous fights with both trainers and kids from my school. I don't regret any of the times I managed to break one of their noses..."
...
...
...
...
"... so after some 'issues,' the trainers and parents started reporting the fights, ignoring that I never started them, because of bullying and everything else, plus the arrogant coach has this stupid Hierarchy doctrine..."
...
...
...
...
"... so I decided to put an end to it once and for all, and I beat him with all my strength and will."
"Okay, so you're saying that because of verbal insults, you decided to learn to beat up more people so they would stop insulting you? And that someone who is technically superior to you in some Hierarchy is a bad thing?" Carlos asked incredulously.
"Tsk. Hierarchy is pure nonsense. Just because you're lower on the hierarchy ladder, your opinions and ideas are horrible or invalid because 'you lack knowledge,' and that pisses me off! Plus, everyone above me uses that ridiculous superiority title to mess with my life! Rich daddy's kids, idiots who can't shut up make me angrier than anything!"
Carlos was just listening to his client get worked up. But he was understanding how he thought. Or rather, how he chose not to think.
Daniel doesn't see the world for what it's supposed to mean or be, but rather for what it is.
In a hierarchy, the title might say you're superior, but in reality, you're still a person who can die like anyone else. The laws of the world and creation say that we should always respect others and that if we are disrespected, we should ignore that person and let them recognize their own mistake.
For Daniel, that's stupid, foolishness, a joke, and various other things indicating injustice.
First, letting others do as they please indicates passivity.
Second, even following the advice to talk to someone about the incident is useless if the person making insults doesn't stop.
Third:
"If I'm defending myself from abuse, why should I be punished? If I'm fighting against injustice, why do I need to follow the flawed rules of a hierarchy? I have valid ideas and opinions, right?"
Such thoughts crossed Carlos's mind.
"Here you go!"
The waitress returned with the order. The smell was perfect, making both of their mouths water.
"Thank you."
They both ate and talked about the problem a bit more. And the more Daniel spoke, the more Carlos suspected that his client might have undiagnosed autism.
A small one in this case: Asperger's.
Asperger's is a type of autism that affects an individual's socialization ability, often pushing them to focus on learning a specific topic. This topic can vary based on the person's current preferences or remain the same from childhood to death. The reason for suspecting Asperger's was quite simple.
Daniel couldn't express himself properly, didn't grasp basic societal concepts, complained about certain things not being simpler, and always, ALWAYS talked about boxing. How it helped him make people stop insulting him.
He talked about the greatest boxers in the sport. Discussed the sport's techniques and its key moves with surgical details.
"Daniel. Here's the deal. I'm going to recommend you for a psychological test. And no, you can't refuse because it will help prevent you from being jailed. I can postpone the trial for a few months if you just shut up and listen." He added the rest as Daniel opened his mouth, likely to complain about the psychologist.
"But why bother with 'psi-co-lo-jy'?"
"You go to the psychologist to learn about your mental state. You can say whatever you want and will be instructed to speak your mind." A little lie to get his client to quiet down.
"Fine. Whatever..."
END OF FLASHBACK
In the end, the test results dismissed Carlos's suspicions. But it gave time to fabricate evidence in Daniel's favor, finding a few loopholes in the law. Thanks to that, he was acquitted of "mental issues," even though it wasn't the case. Judges can't know everything, right?
His mild autism was dismissed right after the trial. Carlos explained, using "A+B," that Daniel isn't autistic. He's just very honest with a strong personality.
Daniel added this information on his "I don't give a fuck about this shit" list.
But at least, thanks to Carlos, he got a part-time job, his outbursts decreased, and he was gradually getting amateur boxing matches.
The feeling of happiness in Connor was automatically replaced by hatred. Ironic how the person who saved him from jail, his immaturity, and his reckless anger was the same one who made him depressed and killed him.
He didn't know the reason for his death and didn't want to know, but man, he would give anything just to punch him. Just to test something he was thinking.
In short: Connor was just stubborn, foolish, and frankly, a bit of a hothead.
CLANK
...
CLANK
...
CLANK
...
...
...
"The most dangerous thing for a man with doubts is to be alone with them..."
"Wise words, coming from a lumberjack," said Abe, with his expressionless stone face.
"Gagh!!!???!!"
Connor was startled to the point of tossing the axe into the air. He could swear he saw the axe disappearing slowly to the point where a faint glow showed itself after the axe vanished.
We're blasting off again.
Changing the subject, Connor spoke as calmly as he could with Abe:
"CAN'T YOU APPEAR WITHOUT SCARING THE LIFE OUT OF ME?!?!!!"
"I've been here for a while. You were so lost in your own thoughts that I decided to wait."
Connor sighed, as he always did with his Primate teacher.
"I noticed you were trying to talk to me. But you prioritized tasks to be done over your goal."
Connor sat on the log he used for chopping wood, looking at the ground thoughtfully.
"I wanted to ask you... Why are there only 35 people here?"
"What do you mean?" Abe inquired.
"You told me there were 36 people in the village," explained Connor, a bit irritated.
"Oh, that person will arrive tomorrow. He's not from our village itself, but he has done so much for us that we consider him a member of our people."
"Ah, okay."
"Actually, it would be 37 people. My son will be coming back with him."
"Oh, your son. Yeah, yeah..."
...
...
...
"Wait, what? Your son? You have a son??????"
Abe's expressionless face stared at Connor's confused and surprised look.
"Was that the only thing you wanted to ask me?"
"Uh... No…?" Connor said, still a bit shocked.
...
He coughed, "I was thinking... a bit about my past."
He hesitated to speak. Didn't know if his Simian companion would find his question strange, but he needed to talk to someone.
"How would you react to finding out you were betrayed by the person you trusted?"
Abe changed his facial expression, something rare for him. It was an expression of discomfort. Like looking at a grotesque scene or seeing something disturbing. Connor was surprised again. This reaction wasn't what he expected.
"Young one, do you want my honest answer to that?" Abe asked after hesitating for a while.
Connor nodded affirmatively.
"I've been betrayed." Abe raised his armpit to show a scar that was hidden. "This is a stab I took from one of my former comrades. He sold the location of our old village to a group of bandits. They... They plundered our home, took our women, and burned our children, still alive..."
"What..."
Couldn't say much. Sometimes (many times, actually) Connor forgot that everyone has a story to tell. As he said when he first met Abe.
"I still remember to this day seeing my female's face, trampled and torn amid the bodies of my people. The only one who survived from my family was my son..." Abe said, looking at the sky.
"What happened to the traitor?"
"We found him, and we gave him a taste of his own medicine... Hardly recognizable after everything we did. This is a chapter I want to erase from my memory, but I'll never be able to..."
"...because of...?"
"Because we had to forge bonds and owe favors to locate the traitor. Many of which we still pay to this day. I hope that with the next payment, we can finish this debt."
"Who was the traitor?"
"The fourth leader of the tribe, my Brother, Heca."
Brother? This shocked Connor in such a way that he couldn't even think of a response.
And with that, Abe withdrew his gaze from the skies and began to walk calmly under the moonlight of that night.
Connor was still in shock. His betrayal compared to Abe's was minimal. Being betrayed by a friend is one thing, but family? It's something even he can't comprehend.
Woosh wooosh wooooosh
"What's that noise?"
CLAAAAAAAANNNNK
The axe returned from its journey to the stratosphere.
----------------------------------------
After tidying up the mess his tool had made, Connor headed to the small cabin provided for him to sleep. If it weren't for the fact that the cabin was made of leather instead of wood like all the others, he might have felt more grateful for the roof.
Then he remembered he was a stranger in the village.
As he prepared to sleep, Connor was once again frustrated with his life. Not the one he was living now, but the one before. The absurd idea that he was now in this world didn't sit well in his head. He had thought about it several times but never could delve deep, for various reasons.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
But one, in particular, he wanted to forget.
Serenity.
He didn't want to forget her, but he wanted to forget that he had practically left her alone. Sure, she's in a coma, but that doesn't change the fact that he could never see her again. Obviously, he considered the possibility of going back, but if half of the things he remembers before dying are true, either he would be a walking corpse or he would be arrested for faking his own death.
"Serenity..."
Shortly after being acquitted, Carlos decided to lend an extra hand. To prevent Daniel from being arrested (again), he decided to register him with a job agency. With the help of Grandpa Jack and some contacts from Carlos, they managed to secure a stable job where he wouldn't be judged by his employers. He would have to take up something to help in his "rehabilitation to the job market," but nothing impossible.
Daniel chose Mechanical Engineering, specifically for automobiles. A choice approved by both Carlos and Jack.
The job itself?
Custodian at a Karate Academy.
Daniel obviously didn't like the job, but it was take it or leave it. And kind of, he didn't have many options either. This was the only place accepting his "resume," so to speak.
It was at this place that Serenity worked. In fact, it was precisely because of her that the Academy agreed to hire Daniel. That alone earned her points in his mind.
Serenity's appearance was always the same. Her round face with defined cheeks. Her blonde hair that looked like a sunset. Her soft hands, always using hand cream. Her green eyes like Jade, which seemed to bring a sense of calm to anyone who looked…
For Daniel, it was as if he were in the presence of Cleopatra. Since she was the only female political figure from Classical Civilization that he could recall at the moment he saw her. And being honest with himself, it was the perfect description for the girl.
Soon after, they were talking about their lives. Daniel didn't have many happy examples to give, but Serenity? It was rare for her to have an unhappy moment. This abundant happiness even made Daniel, stoic as he is, be "tamed" by the positive energy. It was as if a Huldra had found her victim, but instead of feeding on the seduced man, Serenity just... was Serenity.
Daniel laughed upon discovering that Serenity is a cognate for Serenidade (Serenity in Portuguese). Something very appropriate for the lady in question. When they started dating, it was a shock to everyone, but no one interfered, not even Carlos. If his sister was happy, consequently, he was too.
Connor could only think about what could be happening in his old world. Had she already woken up from her coma? Would she miss him? Would Carlos tell her what had happened?
He wouldn't know.
And that made him shed a few tears. For the first time in a long time, he cried for something. Something that wasn't caused by anger. Something that wasn't an injustice. He was crying for loneliness. For uncertainty. And, above all, for longing.
Longing for the person who provided him with the little happiness he had.
Surprised at himself, he wiped the tears from his face. He couldn't keep living the monotonous and peaceful life of a farmhand. He was grateful for their help, but he needed to leave the village, find a purpose, something worth living for.
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
Determined, he grabbed some hay and turned it into a makeshift pillow. He needed to sleep to embark on his journey tomorrow.
"I hope everything goes well…"
----------------------------------------
The next morning, Connor woke up with a strange feeling. He had experienced various emotions throughout his life—anxiety before a fight, nervousness during a school exam, happiness seeing a puppy. But now? It was a strange sensation, one he had never felt before.
Dread.
The feeling of dread had only surfaced once before. But now? It was like being wrapped in a blanket soaked in hot water. Not even with Carlos pointing a fucking gun at Daniel's head had he felt this discomfort.
He got out of bed, grabbed a fruit, and started eating to alleviate the sensation. As he left his cabin, he saw two Primates with harvesting tools—one with a sickle for cutting grains and the other with a shovel.
"Something's very wrong..." Connor thought.
"Good morning, Big Ears. Abe needs to talk to you privately," one of them announced. It didn't sound like a request.
His Erudite Sense kicked in, advising him to go with the flow for now. So far, his little power hadn't given him any reason to doubt its accuracy.
"I also wanted to talk to him. Can I at least get dressed first?" Connor pointed to himself, as he was only wearing pants.
With no protests, Connor went back into his cabin to grab a shirt and shoes. As he dressed, he pondered why Abe suddenly wanted to "talk" with him. Whatever they had to discuss, he was sure he would go talk to him himself. His sense of danger didn't diminish; if anything, it became easier to perceive.
"Weird..."
After dressing, he followed the Primates who were waiting. It didn't escape him that they still held the farming tools. Connor might be many things, but he wasn't foolish. The sickle was a sharp object, and the shovel could be used as a blunt weapon.
"Don't start a fight," his Erudite Sense urged.
He complied. After a few minutes following the two, they stopped at a tent near the Main House. Upon entering the tent, others kept watch outside while Connor waited inside.
"Where's Abe?"
The Primates didn't answer. The sense of danger was significantly attenuated, but still present. Connor was suspicious of many things. It was quite suspect to be approached in "his own" cabin, especially by someone speaking directly to him. Until now, no one had bothered to talk to Connor, except for the obvious ones—Abe, Ukk, and Gef.
These two are the only ones who have even interacted with him in all the weeks he's been here. And the first thing they do is bring him to this tent with no one?
"Sounds about right," he thought ironically.
His suspicions weren't just paranoia. The Primate with his sickle entered the tent, preparing his tool. Connor adjusted his stance for the battle he suspected was about to unfold. And the battle was indeed imminent.
The Primate took the first step, hurling the sickle towards Connor's head. In response, the Wood Elf bent his knees to dodge the blade and leaped forward to deliver a punch to the Primate's chest. He hit the Primate in the ribs, causing him to stagger back with a slight cry of pain. The Primate quickly recovered, but it gave Connor enough time to land several more punches on the unsuspecting Primate. As they exchanged blows, the Primate used the sickle as a bludgeon, slightly cutting Connor as he stepped back, avoiding the attack. This gave the Primate a chance to regain balance and strike with the sickle once again. This time, Connor closed in on the attack, rendering it useless since less distance in a strike meant less force, and thanks to that, he delivered an uppercut that made the Primate fall backward. His weapon flew to the side of the tent and slid along the ground.
Connor advanced on his enemy. When the creature stood up again, Connor unleashed a series of heavy punches. The Primate, however, threw a punch in retaliation, hitting the Elf in the face with such force that it knocked Connor to the ground with an 'oof.'
"At least this one's tough," Connor thought.
The Primate seized the opportunity to grab the sickle from the ground and lift it for another attack. Unfortunately, Connor had already anticipated the move. He rolled out of the way and stood back up, attacking the Primate again while trying to pry the sickle loose from the ground. Connor launched a Superman Punch at the Primate's head, sending it crashing forcefully to the ground.
Now there was no doubt in Connor's mind. He had knocked out the Primate. But, thanks to this fight, the other Primate outside entered with his shovel. Connor managed to dodge a shovel strike and stepped back to assess his next opponent.
He realized too late how he had underestimated his adversary. The creature attacked him with full force using the shovel. Connor barely avoided the blow. Then the Primate used the momentum to roll away from Connor. When Connor turned around, the Primate raised the shovel again. The elf jumped away from the approaching weapon. The Primate continued attacking with his shovel as Connor dodged the blows. Finally, the Primate landed a powerful hit on Connor's shoulder, bringing the Elf down. Connor stood up, ready to counter-attack, only to be forced to dodge a feigned kick from his opponent.
With perfect timing, the Primate swung at Connor's unprotected legs, causing him to fall completely. The Primate immediately raised the shovel over Connor's head, about to strike the fallen victim.
Connor decided to do something he considered childish and a complete low blow.
He kicked the Primate in the groin.
The Primate screamed in pain and dropped the shovel. Before the creature could regain composure, Connor got up, kicked the shovel away, and delivered a strong left hook to his opponent's nose. With so much damage inflicted, it wouldn't take long for the creature to lose consciousness.
To finish the fight, Connor applied the little ground and pound he knew.
The Primate lay defenseless under the barrage of violent attacks. It didn't take long for the Primate to pass out.
"Shit... They're strong..." was all he could think.
Connor tried to catch his breath, feeling much more exhausted from the fight with these two than from the manual labor he had been doing in the past weeks. In fact, he felt way more tired than when he fought Gef.
Regardless, what matters now is that he urgently needs to find Abe.
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POINT OF VIEW: ABE
THE PREVIOUS NIGHT
I'm tired. I could live without worrying about so many things. I took on the responsibility of protecting the village, sure, but even I feel exhausted. Stress can be the biggest factor for anyone getting tired.
"Abe, where are you?" The voice of a certain person echoes in my tent.
Exactly who I didn't want to see this morning.
"Good to see you too, Ukk," I said, lying. Of course, I don't feel like seeing her.
Ukk sits at the main house table. I know very well what she's going to say, but I hope she doesn't say it just when I'm alone worrying about my own dilemmas.
"We're waiting for Richardson to settle our debt, and apparently, you're going to offer the boy, aren't you?"
Logically, I was wrong.
I open my tired eyes and stare at the shaman before responding.
"Yes, indeed. This way, we'll be getting rid of several problems," I say, hinting that I don't want to continue the conversation.
"Do you really think he can pay off everything we owe?"
"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have sent the letter," I say, a little irritated.
Sometimes I wonder if the Shaman, the one who should have the highest levels of wisdom in our village, has enough discernment to hold the position.
But I understand her suspicions. My brother brought disaster to the village, so just because I'm related to him, she associates the blame with me. Not that she's wrong; many people died that day. If I had noticed what Heca was plotting, maybe we wouldn't be where we are now.
Ukk stands up, unrolls a scroll, and hands it to me.
"Please read this."
'Please'? It's not something Ukk would normally do. It must be something important.
I take the scroll and start reading it carefully.
"Greetings, dear Primates.
I hereby come to respond to your call. I must say I'm quite impressed that you have a Wood Elf among you. They are very reclusive and hard to find. But anyway, you already know that.
I'm coming to confirm that I'll be arriving in the village this morning. Please do everything to immobilize the Elf, and I will deliver your offspring safe and sound.
Without pleasure,
Richardson."
I close the scroll calmly and stare at Ukk, letting my disappointment show on my face. I leave the scroll on the table and exit the main house.
"Where are you going?" She questions me before I can leave.
"I'm going to talk to the boy."
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Talking to him didn't help me. In fact, I think I'm doing something wrong. But if I don't, we'll have more problems. I don't want to repeat the same mistakes as that time. Not just for my pride, but also for common sense.
It's hypocritical of me, but it will be worth it.
In fact, it's even ironic. I, who value honor and tradition so much, being reduced to making a deal with a criminal. At least to my understanding, it's the most efficient thing to do. Of course, Richardson is not the most understanding person when it comes to races other than humans, but at least he's sympathetic enough to care.
Even if it's to make money out of it...
I head to my personal tent, with my body tired and stressed. I glance at my son's belongings. A basic hunting kit, adorned with feathers from a bird he claimed to be "magical." If he understood what real magic is, maybe he wouldn't go near such a creature.
Ignorance is bliss.
I lie down on my straw bed and begin the ritual of summoning the sensation of sleep.
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I wake up earlier than expected, being abruptly shaken in my own tent by some villagers. It seems Richardson's convoy arrived earlier than anticipated. Not that I was looking forward to their arrival, but at least it removes some worries.
I get up, eat something quickly in the main square before heading out, and start walking towards the village entrance. Guards were already in position with Get and Ukk to receive the humans and their leader, who, by the way, was not present at the moment.
As I approach, the guards slightly relax their posture, and the guests begin waving to me as if we were old friends.
Not in my worst nightmares.
"Howdy! It's been a while since we last saw each other, Abe!" one of them tries to make a friendly expression.
"Indeed," was all I could say.
"Well, we came here because of the letter you sent. Something about an Elf."
"Not just an Elf, but a Wood Elf," I added the deduction of the lackey in front of me.
"Where's that Richardson?" Ukk asks, somewhat impatient.
"Oh, we stopped on the way to settle other matters, so he's organizing some documents and unfinished business." The other lackey next to him replied.
"If you don't mind, we're in a hurry," I say to speed up the process, without trying to appear desperate. I believe I succeeded.
"Okay, okay... I'll talk to him," he replied, obviously annoyed and irritated.
Not that I care.
Shortly after, I can see the man we've been waiting for. I'll describe him the best way I can.
The man had dark hair and tan skin with a touch of blue around his eyes, which were the color of the sea on a sunny day.
His face was narrow, almost delicate, but there was a solidity to it that would make any man stop and look longer than necessary. Not to admire him but to fear him.
He didn't seem afraid to stand outside at night without a coat when it was raining or snowing. In fact, he looked at the world with so much disdain that if someone approached and tried to touch him, they would regret it.
His clothes were simple and unimpressive—pants, shirt, vest—nothing flashy. But you could immediately tell he had lived a hard life. There was strength in his muscles and resilience in his body. This was evident in his walk, although he never moved quickly or fluidly like a war veteran.
He, for lack of a better term, didn't stand out at all.
He seemed tired, as if he had lost many nights of sleep and smelled of alcohol almost all the time. Undoubtedly, he hadn't bathed since he arrived here… or whatever the hell did he came from. And yet, he kept his head held high as he entered the village. As if his pride wouldn't allow him to stoop down to look at us in a deplorable state.
I don't know if I find that commendable or ridiculous.
"Gef. Ukk. Abe."
We just nodded.
"I suppose you have Abe's son with you?" Gef asks the question that was stuck in our throats.
I glance over my shoulder and notice that many village members are armed, as if they were waiting for the slightest sign of hostility. I can't blame them.
The last time we had to host someone (coincidentally, the same people we're talking about now) was when we were hunting Heca. Richardson was among them, and his group helped us find and subsequently kill him.
However, throughout the hosting, they were highly hostile towards us, even with some cases of "harassment." I don't want that to happen again. Nor do I want to imagine what would happen to my people facing humans who use demoralizing tactics to attack us.
"Yeah... I'm with him," he replied nonchalantly.
When they helped us, they asked for one of our village members to be... acquired for future business. This might be the only opportunity I have to get my son back.
"But where's this Wood Elf you mentioned in the letter?"
"He should be arriving here soon."
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POINT OF VIEW: NARRATOR
And indeed, there was Connor approaching. Running to get explanations about the things that were happening.
Richardson looked in the direction of the Pointy-Eared, a peculiar look. By Elven standards in general, he was shorter than usual, muscles more defined, and... Scales on his skin? Indeed, a peculiar sight.
Without ceremony, he took handcuffs from his pocket and went towards the Elf.
Connor, on the other hand, instead of paying attention to the stranger at the village entrance, walked straight past him towards Abe.
Richardson, incredulous, just stared into the void in response. Never in his life had someone ignored or made so little of his presence to the point of literally walking straight past him. At most, people would step aside and at least give a greeting, be it fake or out of fear of having their tongues cut, he didn't know. Perhaps a bit of both.
But this Elf? This was a very specific case. The onlookers among the thugs backstage were dumbfounded by the insolence of the Wood Elf. They couldn't tell if it was because he was too stupid to notice a threat right in front of him or if he was so confident in his abilities that he didn't even bother to look in Richardson's direction.
In Connor's mind, however:
"ABE!"
Needless to say, the three Primates were sprawled.
"Connor," Abe replied, instinctively cleaning his ears from the pain of the shout.
"There were two of the Primates who attacked me in a tent near the main house, they said you wanted to talk to me privately, but then they attacked me. They are unconscious in the same tent."
"This Elf had my curiosity, but now he has my attention," was Richardson's thought.
.
.
.
.
.
"Why do I feel like I'm parodying a famous line?"
Abe didn't respond to Connor, so he took it upon himself to repeat the question. When no response came again, Connor started to grow impatient.
However, Richardson didn't wait and attempted to kick Connor's chest. He would have succeeded in his attack if the Erudite Sense hadn't warned him.
"Convenient." That's all Connor could think.
"Do you mind explaining?" Connor asked, but his tone sounded more like a demand.
"Depends on what you want me to explain," his assailant said wearily and unwillingly.
"Since the Easter statue Primate won't tell me anything, maybe you can explain what the hell is going on here."
The thugs had gathered around Connor, but with Richardson raising his hand, they kept their distance. Obviously, the boss wanted to handle this problem with his own hands.
"Do you want it in a detailed or brief form-"
"Just talk, for fuck sake."
"Oh... Feeling angry, huh? Well, since it's like that..."
Richardson took off his jacket and threw it on the ground. He assumed a fighting stance that was very familiar to Connor. But he couldn't quite put his finger on the reason.
Connor was the first to attack. Richardson easily dodged his reach and countered with a roundhouse kick to his jaw. Connor forgot to notice that this man was taller than him, consequently giving him a longer reach. In other words, more range in his strikes.
He bent slightly in pain before composing himself. Richardson kicked Connor's leg with his front leg, then kicked again with his back leg, catching Connor off guard. Connor managed to regain balance and step back before being hit by another roundhouse kick, this time hitting his collarbone, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground.
Richardson took advantage of the fact that Connor's focus was on his feet and kicked him in the stomach before landing another direct kick to Connor's face.
"This guy only knows how to kick?!?"
He straightened up, wiping the blood from his nose.
Connor was getting frustrated. He received many kicks and couldn't land a single punch. It wasn't that he couldn't. He could fight and defend himself very well, but he struggled to find a decent opening. The ones that presented themselves were MACROMETRICALLY small, and not even the greatest boxer in history could use them.
He needed a good opening. One that would allow him to land a decent punch on Richardson's face.
He didn't want to give his opponent enough time to think and counter. The last thing Connor wanted was another one of those "lucky" punches. That wouldn't bode well for him.
So Connor did the only thing he could; he put some distance between them. Richardson would need to get closer to hit him. Connor wasn't an Out-Boxer, but he could do decently. Richardson came close, but Connor wasn't even thinking about giving up; he could feel it in his bones, his will, and his heart, urging him not to give up.
He dodged another roundhouse kick before advancing. Connor's fist hit Richardson's jaw. He was thrown back by the brute force behind Connor's punch. But Connor was already moving to the next position, preparing for the next punch.
And what a punch it was. A perfect Livershot.
Richardson was knocked down and thrown against the ground by the force of the punch. However, it took him only 2 seconds to get back up. This left Connor shocked. A liver shot would make someone groan in pain for a few minutes, but he got up as if it were a superficial wound. More discomfort than pain.
"Alright. I'll play."
Richardson was back on his feet, and before Connor realized it, he advanced at full speed.
They exchanged punches again and again, neither gaining any kind of advantage over the other. Richardson noticed that Connor never used his legs, elbows, or knees throughout the entire fight. It was strange and comical at the same time. When Richardson dodged a punch, Connor expected a counter-punch, but Richardson grabbed him by the neck only to make his knee meet Connor's face.
His body gave way but not to the point of falling completely. Meanwhile, Richardson landed an elbow to his nose. Connor staggered backward, finally falling to the ground. He grabbed his nose only to see his hand covered in blood.
"That hurt, didn't it?", Richardson mocked.
He quickly got up, not wanting to give up. Richardson was still advancing towards him with a wild look in his eyes. Connor managed to avoid Richardson's blows for a little longer before deciding to do something he regretted as soon as he did it. He lunged forward, trying to punch as fast as he could, hoping it would be enough to catch Richardson off guard. Unfortunately, Richardson caught Connor's fist, giving Connor the perfect opportunity to punch him in the nose hard enough to break it. Richardson, however, anticipated and kneed Connor in the torso.
That.
That was enough to make Connor stop. Stop and process the amount of pain his body was enduring. He still refused to give in, not going to fall to the ground for the third time.
From here on, the fight was starting to get... Sad.
It was pitiful to watch Connor try with all his might to fight against a man who didn't even seem to be trying. The blow Richardson took to his jaw was the only significant blow he took throughout the entire fight. One couldn't even call this a fight. It was more like a lion toying with its prey, playing with its food before its fate bestowed by Mother Nature.
"Are you even trying?" Richardson commented after another roundhouse kick to his torso.
Connor took the hit but didn't react. His body wasn't responding to the most basic commands, and he urgently needed medical attention.
Richardson lifted Connor's face by pulling his hair.
"To sum it up, you were sold, or rather, exchanged for Abe's son's life. Pretty straightforward, isn't it?"
Connor just listened. There wasn't much to do.
The people around, well, the Primates who were expecting a battle for their lives, abandoned the idea of fighting when they saw that a tired, sleep-deprived man completely uncommitted to the fight managed to defeat one of the most diligent people in the village. And that's saying something about an outsider.
"Pff. To be honest, Pointy Ears, you're not cut out for this. You're a beast that only uses fists, when you have legs, knees, and elbows. I didn't even have to try much to put you in your place." Richardson said with a malicious smile on his face.
Connor wasn't listening anymore, though. His hearing decided to shut down in favor of keeping other vital parts of his body alive.
He couldn't concentrate properly on what was happening. He wanted to understand who this man was and the reason for coming here, wanted to understand why Abe had sent those Primates to attack him, wanted to understand so many things that were leaving him confused…
He felt tired ever since coming out of that tent. He felt weak. Indisposed. Breathless. The only thing that kept his energy up to beat was his determination to find out the truth. But in the end, it didn't matter. His body wants to rest, to sleep, to vanish.
"Well!" Richardson interrupted the reverie of everyone present. "Bring in the Monkey!"
And with that order, Richardson's lackeys released the Primate, who immediately embraced his father. Everyone looked tense and pained at the Elf who at least tried to defend himself from the attack (or start a rebellion) by the humans.
Abe looked at the men carrying the disfigured and injured body of his former apprentice, hugging his son all the while.
"Thank you, Abe! It's always good doing business with you! See you later." The Leader said with fake enthusiasm, but genuine happiness.
And finally, the Primates watched the Humans leave in their carriages. Those who had something they could call a weapon returned to their routine. Those who were in hiding came out to go about their lives. Each one wishing from the depths of their beings that they never have to go through this again.