Revenge is a dish that is served...

the taste depends on the sense

of guilt.

popular saying

I like walking. It makes me remember that I am still in a world that I know but I can no longer recognize it as I learned it; these plains that were my universe, now only appear as one more obstacle to what my teacher has in mind, to what I am looking for.

The kilometers are easy to travel, even when my senses are alert to possible attacks I can enter into something they called "meditation", I still have scars from falling asleep while searching for the crap they called enlightenment; Now I can have a light sleep but I feel what surrounds me, it is pleasant to walk through all this, the sand on my feet, the wind in short, spiky hair, my hand overcoming the inertia of a floating trailer.

At first I was scared, there is nothing to support it; it just floats. When I asked they told me that it would be like this as long as I didn't damage this or that, the thing in my head was clearer, apparently they have a name like a solar panel and accumulator; As far as my boss is concerned, he shouldn't have known but it's better when you know what you need to know.

According to my instructions, there is a merchant camp three days away. He's sure I can fit in there as an apprentice or something; My transport is full of salted meats and two barrels of water, enough to exchange with whoever the owner is there, the truth is that I wouldn't mind eliminating everyone the moment I arrive but they told me that if I want to know who the enemy is from my teacher I can't go around killing people no matter how much I want to break their necks.

I change my clothes too, I am no longer wearing my nakedness or my apprentice clothes; I wear what they think is appropriate, tanned leather pants (I died of laughter when I found out that those things were meat, at first I thought it was a way to transport food), I wear no decorations other than a pendant on my neck held by a dull chain, my knife (my mother), she accompanies my hair, most of it is loose behind, in the center a ponytail joined by strips of skin holding my hair attached to my weapon. I'm not traveling alone...they can't see but I'm traveling with multiple eyes (they're no longer demonic, but they scare me a little) that I'm going to fix before I get to camp. I hope to be able to see everything from "above", so he told me, when I can put those eyes on the walls or the pillars, my head, my conscience (that's what the teacher calls it but he also calls it interface) will be able to show me a view from above; How I suffered learning to fight by seeing myself with others at the same time, because I saw myself through my true eyes.

As the landscape changes (there are still dunes, but a little more compact) I notice that there is a trail of blood, I smell it, I know that there is food; There is something to hunt, for a moment I forget everything, I always wanted to hunt while I was in the tribe, but I was small... well, now there is no tribe, so I can do it, I leave the cart and approach the dune that hide my prey... indeed, there is one but there is no merit in killing something that is already half cooked.

Ah, what aromas, when I started eating things prepared beyond cutting the meat so I can put it in my mouth, I knew there was much more than I could remember; delight after delight circulated through my mouth, each succulent delicacy gave off a different smell, when I asked the names, none of them sounded familiar, but I remember a cut that my teacher called t bone, I am sure that is how this man must taste; He is fat (another word that my conscience tells me) and his skin is covered with... blisters, yes, that's what happened to my skin when he threw flames at me, not the small ones from the patriarch's bastard's bonfires (when I knew what it meant I didn't give it any importance but it does sound ugly), but my teacher went further, the horrible flames chased me, I had to run like crazy and avoid death... that's what he told me and that's how I felt it on my skin when they came to me to rub; They flew above me, my feet felt the horrible heat that not even the sun produced. Once I didn't jump quickly and I felt something hot and then cold, my leg turned red and then some bags of water came out, the flames continued for half an hour until I managed to reach a cistern, the water really hurt me; I saw that a robot approached with a strange thing and ordered me to apply a cream... for a long time the image of my leg, the pain and the smell, kept me far away from the flames, but the whole body of this fat is burnt and smells very tasty.

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I prepare my knife...hey...don't talk. Seriously, are you dead... or are you going to be... What do you mean, you're a merchant? You don't look like it, you look like a stew... "you shouldn't kill him, we need his shelter", apparently my conscience tells me not to kill you, I'm... well... I'm a merchant's apprentice, I can take you in exchange for that you teach me the trade.

He complains and raves a lot, I don't remember anyone soft enough to survive so long, between moans he tells me directions, my head tells me where to move, he makes me build something with my sleeping bag to protect him from the sun. He drinks water very voraciously, the truth is that it makes me sick, but I must obey for now, there are two more nights and each one heavier than the last, I ask you: Can I kill him now?...not yet; we need to know the refuge of him.

When I turn around a building I can see our destination: there are very poorly maintained orchards and a wooden house, the air smells of danger; I know, it smells like death, I hear those who killed me panting, they know I'm alone and there's food, there's still daylight left and before I got there I put a couple of cameras in a building, about fifty meters away, my mind it breaks, it hurts, it shows me where they come from. One is to my right, the other is coming from the front, both are heavy. When the one in front lunges at my neck I kick and the sand falls into his eyes and mouth, while he coughs I face the smallest one, not so confident in his size, he shows his teeth at me and growls, I take advantage of this, a step with my foot fast and a front kick to the nose sinks his septum, he falls backwards and I advance the descent of the body, with my strong foot I turn quickly and with precision I stamp my metal foot on the back of his neck, the sound is beautiful; It's the most satisfying crunch I'll ever hear.

While I turn from the kick I can see from the camera that the other beast is already launching a claw at my back, I drop to the front, I shrink and jump using my strength, the momentum takes me to eye level with him; They are red and hurt by fragments of garbage, I close them by hitting his jaw with my knee, he falls backwards, the blow leaves him dazed and he groans on his back, as soon as I fall I take a quick step and push myself up. A dizzying jump that for a moment allows me to see his face, his chest, his legs and finally the setting sun. Then the sky, as my feet land with a very satisfying impact on his solar plexus, sinks a little with the fracture of his bones, but to confirm I push off and dig my heels in, I make sure that his ribs are wedged into his lungs and I leave him as he spits out blood and foam.

When I see him dying I purposely decide not to give him the death blow; I know it will hurt but I have been dealing with these blows too long; The training was more violent, always knowing what to do, always deciding in hundredths of a second, preventing crying, nausea, vomiting after death or homicide, not only in the teacher's ideas, in my previous life I also lived like this, a person was not just someone: he was a prey, a hunter, a victim or an executioner. I knew the term compassion in my head... if the world didn't have it; I wouldn't have it either.

When I return to the car I find the guy on the floor, he is cursing and crying at those beasts, he calls them guardians, I ask him if this is his refuge, he insults me and talks about the relationships that my mother had with I don't know who and as a I do not know what. I suppose that if it is his address, that means that this is one of the idiots who kill my race, who have people like the patriarch in power... ARE YOU GOING TO LET ME KILL THIS ASSHOLE?... Don't you answer? Alright I'll take that as a yes... Mate, was I wrong? The merchant's neck has a much better sound.