Chapter 04.5
Ghost of the Past II
We rushed with the crowd like waves in the ocean. Everyone was already jogging around the streets before we arrived, so to keep up we had to jog too.
I couldn't lug the old man around like my oversized baggage at this speed which I was particularly happy about. He ended up leaning on my shoulder as we hustled through the streets which wasn’t the most comfortable or efficient method, but it worked.
For a man of his age, he was doing well to keep up with my jogging. Not to mention that his eyes were woozy and he ran like a boat on waves. He was panting and puffing, but he never asked for a break or faltered behind.
As for me—not to brag or anything—, but I had been running around for as long as I'd known. Whether I was scrambling in the streets, or scurrying around the market; I had always enjoyed outrunning others and continuing to move faster. I had even darted around the forest with my father like I was a free, wild animal. I was jumping over the mossy logs, splashing the water in the flowing streams, and occasionally tripping on a branch, but that never stopped me from striving to run faster.
After moving to the orphanage, I tried to scamper around the city, but it was never the same. My father was never there to race with me; it felt more like a chore which I had too many already at the orphanage. When I asked my family, there was always a variable that made it boring. Mother Lay'rene didn't run, Father Airo always left me in his dust, Lav'arc was too lazy, Jav'ris was too elegant to dash around the city, picking up the dust, and the twins and Kino didn't stand a chance.
The only reason I never stopped running was because of Vic, the only sibling I considered "family." I always narrowly edged him out in almost everything but we both loved to race. The exhilaration from start to finish was addictive; it became our ritual to race every day. Almost everything in our life became a race, quite like Lav'arc and Kino at breakfast.
However, he always drastically outpaced me when it came to Gyra. I would like to say our intelligence was similar, but in reality, I couldn't compete. My talent wasn't the one scouted by the Gyra Institute, it was Vic. When he finally decided to attend the Lucia Academy of Gyra Research and Usage which was in the noble part of the capital. He was my age, but our worlds were so different. Even when he left, he said "Let's have another race" as he waved toward our family.
When he left, it was the first time I had a nightmare that didn't involve monsters, corpses, shadows, or green hair. We were racing down a dirt path, not caring that our feet were getting soaked in mud and dirt. His sparkling, ocean-blue hair was brushed by the summer breeze as I began inching into the lead as usual. But then, something snapped. He left me in the distance. He was dashing forward at a pace I couldn't match.
At the time, I envied him for it. He was better than me and I couldn't do anything about it. I started ignoring him, coming up with excuses like I felt dizzy or I didn't feel like it. But when he left, tears poured out of me like ocean waves on a desert. It had been so long since I cried, my eyes felt dry. I resented him for leaving me behind, but I also resented myself for not congratulating him more like a real brother.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason that I ran, but meeting the old man and talking about my dad reminded me of family. Racing is a way I can latch onto the feelings I once shared with Vic, even if he has left me in his dust.
So, that’s why I never gave up running. The race wouldn't be fun if I never caught up to him. Perhaps it would have been better to train Gyra, but Father Airo had no interest in teaching me or letting me learn. He said Gyra only led to misfortune from many things he didn't want me to experience. The greed for power, the stench of rotting corpses and blood on the battlefield, and most importantly the knowledge that there will always be someone younger and more talented than you.
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What he didn't know was that the stench of blood was slowly withering me away every. He knew my anger for revenge, but he never knew my determination to fulfill it. So, I had no interest in learning from Father Airo. After all, last time I relied on my family, they ended up dead.
It would be better for me and them if they stayed out of my life.
The old man and I began jogging into the run-down slums of the capital. It was the part of the city the nobles wanted to hide from foreigners. The mood of the city was painted gray and a rotten reek rose out of these buildings like a ghost.
A lot less people roamed these runned down streets than the capital. The ones that did all wore their true faces, unlike those back in the capital.
Those in the capital always tried to look a certain way to gain an advantage. Nobles and Merchants always appeared welcoming and friendly, as long as you had money. Guards and soldiers always looked grumpy and fierce, like they were trying to strike fear into everyone. The true guards were always fierce to their enemies, but kind to their own people.
But these slum dwellers were different. They weren’t anxious about war because they have been anxious that they won’t live another day even before the days of war. They had nothing to hide from each other because all of them are experiencing the same life.
They were like children.
They weren’t greedy like others for money or power either. They realized after years of trying, the most they can hope to achieve is survival.
There is nothing greedy about wanting survival. Nothing
The old man wheezed and panted behind me, “Hey!… phew. Wait—phew— Stop!—phew… On your left. Building!”
“On my left huh?” I mumbled, turning to look at a rotting, run-down, hunk of wood building. Most of the building was overgrown in plants and moss. “Well you're definitely right nobody’s going to listen to us here.”
“Come on!” The old man said, trudging through the threshold of the building. “Don’t worry, I just got rid of all the fungi on the inside a week ago.”
Great
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If I wasn’t already suspecting something from this old man, I was now. He was wearing a noble’s clothes, yet lives in a dump like this. Maybe he was a thief. People scraping for food everyday like me didn’t have the money or confidence to wear a hat.
My family had enough to eat, but I intended to not take up more than I was worth. I didn’t want to intrude that much, it was nice enough to give me a roof to sleep under.
I followed the old man as he trudged into the house panting. The floor creaked beneath my foot and I bent down to fit in the low ceiling. Water dripped onto the floor.
“Home sweet home!” laughed the old man. He plopped onto the stool next to the counter made out of rotten wood, staining his pants with moss. He patted another rotten stool. “Come take a seat! Phew! That was a nice change of pace!”
“Hahaha! Get it? Because we were running?” He leaned back, cracking at his own joke like he was an egg.
“You don’t think it's funny do you?” He said, looking unpleasant like I had just insulted him and his next three generations. “Now come take a seat before I see my ancestors and take the answers to your questions with me.”
I took one look at the mossy wood and knew that I would never be able to relax here. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
The old man stared at me almost like he was surprised I didn’t want to sit, “Bwahahahaha! You must have found a nice orphanage!”
His eyes began to tear up from his laughter. He smacked his hand into the table, smashing the table in half.
“Ahem,” he cleared his throat trying to divert attention away from his collapsing house. “I admit this is not the most luxurious place to stay, but it keeps all the attention away.” He chuckled, setting his hat down on the table. “But it's home.”
“Now then—“ he leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs—“what do you know about your parents and what do you not know?