Awakening on the scorching hot sand, Five found himself confronted by a gentle-looking young woman towering above him, humming. Ordinarily, Five might have felt threatened by the stranger's presence. However, he had long surpassed his limits and reached his breaking point. In his mind, there was no room for pain or fear; he had already struggled to his utmost. Now, facing his potential demise at the hands of this stranger, he couldn't help but feel a sense of irony and regret.
With the last of his strength, he gazed at the sky one final time. At least he had the chance to behold the sun's radiance once more before his energy waned. Dying in the darkness that had become all too familiar to him was now not his fate, and that brought him a measure of solace.
With a discontented sigh, the man approached the bruised and broken child, obstructing the youngster's view of the sky. Instead, the child's gaze met the beautiful face of the young woman. This became his ultimate vision before he succumbed to unconsciousness for the last time.
““Upon entering the world, King Irolos Mageborn II displayed an innate aptitude for wielding magic, an unparalleled occurrence. His magical capabilities commenced at rank 0 at birth, an unparalleled phenomenon; normally, royals awaken their powers at sixteen, clearly foretelling a remarkable destiny from the very outset of his existence.
By the age of six, he had already progressed to rank 1 in his magical prowess. Despite his young age, King Irolos Mageborn II showcased extraordinary skill by triumphing over any royal peers who shared his rank, a feat made even more extraordinary by the fact that his competitors were at least twice his age. The announcement that he would ascend the throne, despite not yet being a teenager, caused dissatisfaction among many royals..
The ability to amass such a considerable number of adversaries at such a youthful age, and yet remain steadfast, underscores the unwavering spirit of our ascended king.”””
Cling cling cling
The sound of metal pounding wakes Five up, had he not perished? Could this be the afterlife he now found himself in?
Struggling with impaired vision, he attempts to rise from the bed, only to sense a weighty, metallic sensation on his arm that tugs at his enfeebled muscles. He had a metal cast encasing his previously broken arm, he couldn't spare a moment to inspect it. The sound of the hammer was captivating him, holding his attention he instinctively navigated toward the source of the clanging sounds, he was drawn to it as if enchanted by a mysterious power, his every step guided by an irresistible curiosity.
The boy was greeted by the old blacksmith's skillful hands as they shaped the red-hot metal. The rhythmic clang of hammer on anvil created a captivating symphony. Each strike seemed to mold the metal with purpose and precision. Amidst the intense heat and the metallic scent in the air, the boy felt a sense of awe. The old blacksmith's expertise was evident in every movement. Sparks danced like fiery stars, illuminating the craft in progress.
As the metal transformed, the boy witnessed the magic of creation. From raw material to a refined piece, the process highlighted the blacksmith's mastery. The dance of fire and iron conveyed an artistry that went beyond the forge.
Amidst the forging, the boy's worries faded. The dance of metal and fire connected him to human craftsmanship and legacy. The old blacksmith's work embodied dedication and skill. The boy's pain and fear faded, replaced by an indescribable calm that was entirely new to him. He was so absorbed in the mesmerizing scene before him that he didn't notice the old man speaking until the work ceased.
"Boy, are you listening? Now that you're awake, go get yourself checked out at Alle’s, I mean at the herbalist. I'm not a clinic, nor do I have time to babysit." the old man's voice finally broke through as he paused his work.
The bewildered facial expression Five displayed was enough of an answer for the old man.
He wore a faint smile and spoke once more.
“ She’s about five minutes away, you’re going to need to walk towards the Ironfalls, not the village, the actual falls.” He easily looked above 60, but his body seemed as hard as iron. Five was silent once again, which made the old man visibly annoyed.
“You’re not from around here, are you ? Could you be from the big village on the other side of the island, aye, kid?.” Five just continued staring at whatever the old man was working on.
The old man sighed at what he thought was a rebellious teen, but Five was not in a normal state; anemic, injured, and malnourished, it was a miracle he had survived this whole ordeal, but none of that mattered; he was fixated on the fire.
The old man took notice, a faint smile appearing on his face. "How'd you end up in such a state?" At that moment, a hint of defensiveness seemed to radiate from the boy.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The man let out a small sigh. “Fine, don't tell me, but just so you know, I want the material back from that cast; bring it back when your hand heals. Can't waste good metal." His words held a mix of straightforwardness and a touch of humor. "Come with me to your savior, she can take over from here." The man sighed and grabbed the boy’s hand, seemingly annoyed by this distraction from his work.
The memory of how the old prison guard had grabbed him before his escape flashed in Five's mind. With the little strength he had regained, he jerked back instinctively.
Stunned by the sudden movement of the weakened child, the man took a step back. “I understand, I'll get Alle to come and check up on you; wait here and get more rest. I know you couldn't do much in your situation, but please don't mess anything up—I despise searching for lost things. “The old blacksmith mumbled as he was leaving the house.
Five carefully examined the metal cast encasing his arm, then his gaze shifted to the hammer, anvil, and the array of tools the old blacksmith had been using. It became evident that the old man had been truthful – this contraption was aiding in the healing of his hand, which had once been contorted in the wrong direction. He also noticed the peculiar creamy substance spread across his wounds. While it stung, Five understood that it hurt less than it did before.
The young boy was left utterly taken aback. Why would anyone extend such genuine kindness to him? The concept of such compassion seemed almost implausible. The last trace of kindness he could recall had come from the Master, but even that had been more of a calculated investment. Until now, he'd believed that kindness was something beyond his reach. His desperate struggle for survival had been his way of grasping at a semblance of self-worth, even if it were only through his own perspective.
However, these individuals were offering him kindness without any strings attached. The realization struck him profoundly. They were granting him something he'd never truly experienced – genuine care without ulterior motives.
No.
After the Master showed his true face he found it difficult to believe or place trust in their kindness. An innate urge to escape welled up within him, but he knew his current physical state rendered him unable to act on it. Even crawling required an exertion of strength he currently lacked, and navigating this unfamiliar place in his condition was an insurmountable challenge.
As he looked upon the fading embers of the forge, a sense of calm washed over him. The gentle glow of the dying fire seemed to soothe his racing thoughts and ease the tension that had gripped him.
He resigned himself to his fate, whatever it might hold, alongside this person named "Alle." He had already put forth his utmost effort, giving everything he had. He recognized that he had exhausted all possibilities, and this decision marked his first and perhaps final gamble.
With this ultimate conclusion settling within him, Five's eyes began to grow heavy, and a tranquil drowsiness gradually overcame him. He succumbed to a comforting relief of defeat that led him into a meditative state.
After a short while a strong smell filled his lungs, he was forcefully taken out of his calmed state. A branch with purple leaves was stuffed into his nose by a young woman wearing all black.
“you're up! Welcome back handsome!" a cheerful voice exclaimed. Five found himself greeted by a pair of bright green eyes radiating excitement. The woman's joyful smile was infectious, making him wonder what had brought about such merriment. He casually plucked the strange herb from his nose and discarded it.
"I'm Alle! I'm the one who discovered you washed ashore a week ago," she introduced herself with enthusiasm. "You've had your beauty rest, but now it's time to rise and dine. You're looking quite thin for your age, young lad."
Her presence was vibrant, her eyes brimming with energy. The sheer size of them and their unwavering attention on him made Five slightly uncomfortable. He watched as she extended a branch toward his nose, which he promptly pushed away. He struggled to sit up on the bed, attempting to get more comfortable.
"Oh no, no, no. Don't attempt to move," she quickly interjected. "You've got a few broken ribs, and I'm pretty sure there's a mix of infections and some critter's venom coursing through you. Can you recall if you were bitten? The size, shape, or if you're lucky, the name of the creature? Even a vague description would help!"
She spoke rapidly, her words flowing faster than he could process. His confusion was evident on his face.
"Pfffff. Not much of a talker, are you?" she said, slightly exasperated. "I've been chattering away at you, and not even a peep in response! Well, I suppose you might still be in shock. For now, how about sharing your name?"
His name... Five contemplated the question deeply. Why indeed didn't he have a name? The number assigned to him couldn't possibly be his real name. They hadn't even extended him the courtesy of giving him a name.
The old man, and Alle, the herbalist, stood above him, their anticipation evident. Five pondered the question, contemplating whether he could even provide an answer to something that seemed to defy resolution.
While he wished to return their kindness with a straightforward response, he struggled to muster the will to speak. It had been so long since he had used his vocal cords. Instead, he chose to communicate with a negative shake of his head, knowing it might lead to further queries, but feeling he had no better option.
"Could it be that you've forgotten your name?" Alle inquired gently, her tone probing. "I didn't detect any signs of injury around your skull or spine, which is rather unusual."
"Perhaps that head shake represents his name, Alle." The blacksmith suggested, a small grin forming on his lips.
"Quite the joker, old Rick! I hope you're a better blacksmith than you are a jester," Alle quipped in a light-hearted tone.
Rick maintained his stern expression, repeating in a grumbling tone, "Kid was nearly dead when you found him. He'll speak when he's ready."
Alle chuckled softly, finding amusement in Rick's sensitivity. She then redirected her focus to Five. Gently, she reached out her hands toward his head, ensuring she hadn't missed any bruises. To her relief, there were none to be found.
Retrieving a bowl filled with an unusual-looking paste from the counter, she handed it to him. "This is a blend of medicinal herbs that will aid your recovery. They might not taste the best, but I'll make sure you swallow every bite!"