Teacher tied up his horse in a stable near the city outskirts and I silently trailed behind him. My passing left a wet trail along the ground and a chorus of snickers from people we passed. I swear Teacher walked the most roundabout route to get where we were going just so I would be forced to suffer the humiliation that much longer.
Thankfully our parade through the city came to an end at an official-looking stone building. It wasn’t original in its imposing design and when you’ve seen one governmental building, you have seen most of them. Thick stone pillars flanked a large entrance with two wings. One wing off to either side of the door. The central area also sported a rounded dome at the top. The interior was rather plain with only a mural on the ceiling of the domed portion that depicted the Mother’s loving embrace protecting us from the Father’s wrath.
My inspection of the building was shaken by a man running over and yelling at us. “Yo- you can’t come in here sopping wet! You are getting water all over city hall!”
For once Teacher actually did something useful. As the man barreled angrily toward me, he put his hand out, stopping the man short by placing his palm against the angry man’s chest.
“Ugh! Get your hands off me, do you know who I am?”
“No… and I don’t care who you are.”
The man bristled, “ I will have you know, I am the Ass-,” Teacher cut him off.
“I said I didn’t care. Is the magistrate in?”
The man puffed up in indignation. “As if the Magistrate would deign to meet with the likes of you. He is busy in his office.” The puffed-up official proudly claimed.
Teacher shoved the man aside and strode down the hall while the man let out a surprised squawk as he fell on his ass. I couldn’t help chuckling, earing a withering glare from the man as he yelled after us as he tried to get up.
Teacher managed to reach the door to the Magistrate’s office a few steps ahead of the irate ass. Who was I to deny the man his proud title, I smirked.
As the door opened, I saw a surprised-looking man sitting behind an ornate wooden desk. He had been writing something when we barged in.
“Magistrate, I told these ruffians that you were busy but they assaulted me and barged their way in anyway.”
The Magistrate looked at Teacher, then at the man tattling like a child, and sighed. “It’s fine…James, was it?”
“Actually, it's Jacob, sir,” the man seemed to visibly deflate.
“Right, Jacob, if a Chosen wishes to come to see me, please let them in in the future.”
I don’t think I had ever seen anyone turn that shade of white before. The man’s eyes bulged as he apologized profusely and backed out of the room, smartly closing the door behind him as he left.
“Well, what brings you by?” the Magistrate asked as he set his pen back in the inkwell. “I can’t imagine a Chosen goes around bullying my staff without a good reason?”
“As fun as that sounds, no. I’m here to collect a reward for three bandits.”
“And you needed to have me issue it personally?” the Magistrate quirked an eyebrow. “I’m flattered… truly,” he added flatly.
“I am also here to inform you that I need to return to Roddan and there will not be another Chosen in the area for six months.”
The Magistrate sat up straighter in his chair. “Has something happened?”
Teacher jerked his thumb back at me and the Magistrate looked at me for the first time since I had entered the room. “We got a new Chosen. I need to take him back to HQ to get him up to speed.”
The Magistrate looked me up and down before frowning slightly. His frown disappeared a moment later but it told me exactly what he thought of me. He turned back to Teacher. “You are sure there are no other Chosen that could cover…”
“No,” Teacher ground out through clenched teeth.
I wondered what that was about but I knew better than to talk.
“Very well, while not ideal, it isn’t as if I could keep you here anyway. I will write a note to the local lord to see if he can levy a few guards to help patrol. The bandit problem is growing worse since the drought this spring and the less than ideal harvest last year. Some people have realized that food is going to be scarce for the coming winter months.”
Teacher shrugged, “Less mouths to feed when they turn to banditry and get themselves killed.”
“…Yes, I suppose. Was there anything else?”
“No.”
The Magistrate took the ears and handed Teacher twenty plates and gave me ten. Although, Teacher took five of those without giving me a reason why. While the Magistrate seemed sympathetic to my plight, he remained quiet. All I could do was sigh internally as I followed Teacher back out of the building.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Teacher meandered through town a bit more before we ended up in front of a dirty little inn. I was pretty sure I had seen cleaner places in some of the slums my father rode through when I was younger.
The place looked ready to fall over with a strong breeze but Teacher just pushed the door open on its squeaky hinge and took a deep breath of air, letting out a satisfied grunt as he walked inside. I fiddled with the door for a bit but managed to get it to close in the crooked doorframe.
It took me a while to find Teacher. He had found a booth along the back wall and already had his feet up and his sword belt off to the side, yet within easy reach. I didn’t see his torment stick anywhere in sight. Then again, I didn’t remember seeing it at all since my bath.
I walked over and sat across from him. The leather seat below me was cracked and weathered by age but it was at least clean. It was more than I could say about the table. I made the mistake of putting my hand down on the lacquered wood surface and It came away with a pulling sensation. I grimaced and tried to rub the stickiness off against the bench seat with little luck.
Admitting defeat, I unbelted my sword and set it against the inside part of the seat.
“You pay for whatever you eat and drink. This ain’t no charity service the clergy love so much. You run out of money, you go hungry or you hunt for food. Understand?” Teacher said in a tone that… well, it was his usual dour tone. I just nodded, not wanting to engage the awful man if I could avoid it.
A plump younger woman strode up to our booth. “What can I get you two fine fellows tonight?”
“Hey gorgeous,” Teacher winked at the woman. I guess in the right light she would be attractive. “How’s about a cold mug of ale and a bowl of warm stew. And if you're in the mood, a warm loaf of bread,” he added with a wink.
I was so shocked by Teacher’s change in attitude that I almost forgot to order. Thankfully, my rumbling stomach reminded me. “A bowl of stew, some bread, and just water, thanks.”
“Certainly, sugar,” the waitress said to me. “As for you, handsome, if you need anything… later, let me know,” she smirked as she sashayed away more than was necessary. I thought for sure, Teacher wouldn’t take his eyes off her swaying hips but when I followed his gaze, it led to a group of rough-looking men across the bar. They looked none too pleased that the buxom waitress was paying Teacher all the attention.
Teacher smirked at them as he nodded cockily. I groaned, earning a death glare from Teacher.
“Stay quiet and keep an eye on that table. Let me know if they get any funny ideas.” I wanted to ask him what he defined as funny ideas but we were interrupted as the waitress brought our drinks out.
The woman stayed to flirt with Teacher for a bit until the men from that table started yelling for service and banging their glasses down. I heard the waitress huff as she turned around to leave, but not before Teacher gave her a good squeeze on her butt, making her squeak in surprise and shake her head at him in admonishment. “Not, while I’m working, handsome.”
Of course, the men at the other table saw this and glared even harder at the two of us. Teacher ignored their glares, but I could tell this situation was not going to end in a friendly conversation. Teacher didn’t even seem all that interested in the waitress. As soon as she left his view, he turned to his drink and started downing it like a dying man in the desert.
When I heard angry yelling coming from across the room, I looked up and saw the waitress arguing with one of the men at the table. He stood up, throwing his chair to the ground. I gulped at the man’s sheer size. He was easily three hundred pounds of muscle and stood a good two heads taller than the waitress.
Then his buddies also got up. While they weren’t as big as him, they were still large men. Some sort of laborer if I had to guess. They were wearing sturdy worn clothing that sported any number of stains, baked in due to age. The bigger guy pushed the waitress to the side as she protested then they began to stomp across the room toward us.
“Um…I think this qualifies as a funny idea,” I spoke quietly only for Teacher to hold up a finger while he tipped his large mug of ale back.
The men were almost at our table and I could already smell the stale sweat and alcohol from the four of them. Before they reached the table, Teacher pulled his sword out for the first time and slammed it against the table.
My eyes, along with the four men’s were drawn to the naked single-edged blade. It was unique. Made from some sort of wood, the edge of the blade was black.
…Oh, I realized. The black edge was carbon buildup from him using his power. The entire room quieted as the four men were frozen as they eyed the blade. I heard one mumble black blade and a quick prayer to the Mother.
Teacher slammed his now finished cup down on the table before turning to the men. “Can I help you gentlemen with something?”
For a moment, I thought the instigator of this exchange wouldn’t relent but it seemed like even he wasn’t that drunk. “N- No, just wanted to come by and say hello,” the man’s eyes kept flicking back and forth between the blade and Teacher.
“Oh… it seems you are interested in my sword.” The man started to shake his head but Teacher grabbed the handle of his sword and was out of his seat before the larger man could respond.
“Don’t be shy, it's only normal to be curious about it. You see, it's made of wood. I find wood fascinating, unlike ceramic it glows cherry red when heated. While it may not be as durable, I find that to be an effective deterrent for most, would you like to see?” he spoke quietly not waiting for the larger man to reply.
The blade's edge began to glow red like a stick left in the fire. Teacher dragged the backside of the sword against the man’s chest. “Fire is an interesting thing. We can’t live without it, yet if allowed out of control would kill us all. Then there are burns. Have you ever been burned?” Teacher asked the large man that was now weeping and shaking like a toddler as he gently slid the back of the blade across the man’s body, even going so far as to walk behind him.
The man nodded rapidly at the question while I looked to see what his friends were up to. They had backed well away from the man holding the glowing-edged sword, afraid to take their eyes off of it or the man holding the weapon.
“If I ever return and hear you were giving the nice waitress a hard time, I will find you.” The man flinched and a girly scream escaped his lips as Teacher cut a burn across his belly. “In case your memory becomes foggy, let that be a reminder. Now, you and your boys pay your bill and get out.”
The men scrambled across the bar, tossed a load of plates on their table, and hurried out before Teacher changed his mind.
When the men were gone, Teacher sat back down and the waitress came over with our food. “That was kind of you but not really needed. That man acts a fool but he was harmless.”
Teacher grunted. “Harmless leads to harmful if left unchecked. Much like fire.”
“Hmm, perhaps. Shall we find out after I get off work?” she asked coyly.
Her words elicited the first genuine smile I had seen from Teacher, and it creeped me out.