----------------------------------------

I woke up feeling refreshed.

It was still dark inside the forest, but I could see the sky brightening through the canopy, and I could hear the forest waking up with me, with the birds chirping around.

It’s wonderful.

Sitting up, I scratched my head. I need to wash, though.

I hadn’t felt it so much the day before, but I was covered in blood, dried sweat, dust, and other unknown substances from the trash heap — I was starting to get itchy everywhere. And I stank so badly that I probably worked as a natural animal repellent — mosquitoes loved me, though.

I looked at the kid who was still sleeping — he didn’t run away in the end. I didn’t want to wake him up yet, but I didn’t know how far the next town or village was, so I didn’t want to waste too much time. There were a few dried jerkies in the guard pouches, but I already ate some while I walked the previous day, and the rest would barely last us for a single meal. We better save them for a midday meal.

Knowing his reactions by now, I took a small pebble and threw it at his forehead, to wake him up.

“Arg!” he said, covering his head. Mission accomplished. My aim was good, as always.

He looked around, then he saw me looking at him.

I heard him hold his breath, but he didn’t have any other reaction. It seems he’s calmed down now.

He must have had time to think things through during the night, though it seems he was still on guard. Must be because I’m out of the cell. I’m a bit hurt, though.

“Good morning kid! Did you sleep well?” I asked cheerfully, then noticed his bloodshot eyes and the bags under them. “Uh, I guess not.”

He must have had a hard time calming down enough to sleep. Well, he’ll drop tonight. ’Till then, he’ll have to bear with it.

“I’m sorry to wake you up so soon, but we need to move. I also need to wash since I smell like shit and probably look like crap,” I said, pointing at myself. “I’m sure you would like that too.”

He shook his head. Duh, no good with baths?

“Well, your problem. You’ll stay alone if we find a place to stay and won’t let you inside ’cause you smell too much. I won’t accompany you to the stables.” Or maybe I would?

I hadn’t counted the money yet, and I didn’t know the prices of a night stay at an inn, or how much a meal cost.

“And before I forget again. We never properly introduced to each other, right? I’m Silvester, twenty-three, a former gladiator and dungeon dweller, as you already know. Thanks again for taking care of me,” I said with a smile and a thumbs up.

He looked at me intensely. What’s wrong now? I thought, waiting for him to speak.

“Are you really him?” he asked tentatively after a while.

“The hell does that mean?” I asked, “I’m Silvester, you came to bring me food for months in the dungeon. Did you blow your mind out when you hit your head?”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

“But you don’t look like him,” he said as he tensed, making me raise my eyebrows. “You don’t have scars. Even that big one on the side of your face.”

I touched my jaw at his words — it was true. Behind the grime, I could feel a few signs of my beard growing. I felt something different from how my skin felt — I didn’t feel it pulling when I smiled or talked — but I hadn’t registered it, being lost among all the new sensations I was feeling.

I scraped off some of the dirt in my left hand to see it free of scars. The calluses didn’t disappear completely, but they were less evident. In the meantime, the kid continued, “And your voice is completely different — it’s nicer to listen to now... you also look better.”

“Hey,” I said, a little offended, “My voice has always been nice. I was just a bit raspy. And I bet I just look better because they let me cut my beard.”

“Ok, but…” he trailed off before finishing with, “You’re dead.”

“Da hell!? You’re dead, brat!” I responded by reflex.

“Ah!” he lurched back, scared.

Oops, I thought, raising my hands to show I didn’t want to do anything. I don’t think he was cursing me, but he could have worded that better.

“Sorry kid, force of habit,” I said, trying to calm him down. “But you should have worded that better. You weren’t cursing me, right?”

He shook his head so fast I feared he’d strain his neck. “N-no. That’s what the First Oligarch told the people.”

That bitch?

“She said that you had a lucky win thanks to the dumb beast, but that you were dying anyway.”

“Tch…” I really hope she was blown up in the explosion. “Don’t listen to those idiots. I’m nice and dandy, as you can see.”

Then I tried to joke around a bit to lighten the atmosphere.

“And besides, death’s scared of me. When it comes knocking, I just kick it back where it came from,” I said, smirking, while flexing my muscles.

He nodded, seriously. That wasn’t something I said for a serious response, though.

“Kid, it was a joke. You should laugh, not be all serious about it. You got it?”

He nodded again. OK, have it your way. I gave up.

“So… you okay now? I’m really just Silvester, the nice guy you brought food to for months. And damn, you’re my favorite person, you know? You don’t need to be scared.” Also, because most of the nice people I knew were dead. But maybe it’s better if I don't say that.

“Okay… I think I believe you,” he said hesitantly.

He doesn’t seem too convinced, but it’s better than before at least. “Your turn now!”

He didn’t speak right away, but I waited patiently. I had learned he wasn’t an outspoken guy, and he needed his time to answer. We also weren’t so much in a hurry, so I could waste a few more minutes. Though it took a bit longer than I thought this time. He seemed reluctant to answer, What is it now?

“My name is Freya,” he said in a small voice at the end.

“Bwahahaha,” I laughed, I got why he didn't want to say it now, “They gave you a girl's name!”

He seemed to be uncomfortable. Okay, he looked a bit girly, but maybe it wasn’t really that nice of me to laugh.

“Come on, don’t be down, you look manly enough. I’m sure that you’ll look as good as me when you grow up,” I said, trying to comfort him. “Besides, you can choose another name now. You’re not a slave anymore, after all.”

He didn’t have a class, so there would be no way to find out.

He pouted, “I’m a girl, though.”

…..

Oh… I thought.

“Oh…” I said, expressing the complexity of my thoughts out loud.

This was something that didn’t even cross my mind for a second. Why, for fuck's sake, was a slave girl in the arena? It wasn’t that strange for him, no wait, her, to be a kid, since there was work where they preferred to use them, but why a girl?

The silence was stretching, What do I say now?

“Err, look, I didn’t mean that, you know. You look girly enough, it’s that when you’re around ten it’s not easy to tell sometimes, so maybe you were just a bit girly, but you could grow up either way, I thought, give it a year or two, and you’ll be a fine girl, I’m sure.” Though I wasn’t sure what I was saying made any sense.

“I’m thirteen,” she said, glancing at me before looking down.

Oh…

“Oh…”

…

What now?

“Um… oh! It’s gettin’ late, we should leave now if we want to reach the next town as soon as possible,” I said while getting up and arming myself.

Sometimes a retreat is the best option.

----------------------------------------