Zayan woke to the sound of footsteps outside his cell. The morning sun filtered through the wooden door of the cell, casting shadows on the floor. His body ached from the stiff surface he had slept on—some fatigue still remaining from the forest walk— and his mind whirled from the events of the past few days. He sat up attentively eyeing the guards who entered. The elder followed behind, his expression unreadable like a stone statue.
The elder gestured to the guards, and the door to the cell quickly creaked open. “Come.” The elder said, his tone firm but not unkind.
Zayan stood his aching body up as ordered by the elder. As he rose to his full height, the guards exchanged glances, feeling inferior in height to this boy. Zayan was used to towering over most of his peers. But here, his 6 foot 2 frame seemed even more noticeable against the shorter physique of the people around him.
“You’re letting me go?” Zayan asked, his words now complete as he had completely adjusted to the language.
The elder nodded. “Your imprisonment was only for the village’s safety. I have made my decision. You will not stay in this cell. You will work under me.”
Zayan blinked in surprise at the unexpected turn of events and asked, confused “Work… under you? Doing what?”
The elder’s gaze was steady. “You are no ordinary boy. I see it in how you speak, and how you think. Your intelligence can serve this village so I have decided to have you assist me in managing its affairs.”
Zayan knew he was in no position to refuse and hence he followed behind the elder who had already turned and began walking away, motioning for him to follow. The guards stepped right behind them; their silence heavy with unease at the elder’s sudden decision.
As they stepped out into the open air, Zayan immediately felt the weight of dozens of eyes on him. His height, already a unique feature, drew even more attention that he stood tall above the villagers. People paused their conversations to stare at him while some children who were playing in the streets stopped to look at this towering man.
Murmurs could be heard on the streets “That’s the boy from the forest. I saw them take him to the cells before.” “What could the elder be thinking, bringing him out? What if he causes harm?”
Zayan felt uncomfortable under these untrusting words but followed the elder to a modest wooden building near the center of the village. Zayan and the elder entered while the two guards stayed at the front door. After entering, the elder first gave Zayan some new clothes and told him to bathe in the bathroom in the back. Zayan didn’t speak but took the clothes and went to bathe.
The bathroom was just a room containing a large pot of water and another clay jug. Zayan bathed as quickly as he could and wore those new clothes. These clothes were of a simple design, a plain white T-shirt of sorts and a matching pair of trousers tightened with a rope placed within it.
Zayan, after wearing the clothes, quickly went back to where the elder was. “You look great.” The elder said and then gestured for Zayan to sit at a sturdy wooden table covered in maps with some symbols marking water sources, dangerous animal territories, and whatever else those many symbols could mean.
“You will learn quickly.” The elder said, spreading out a map of the village atop the other maps. “This is our home, and it is fragile. Food is scarce in the colder months, and our defenses are strained. Your role will be to think, to help me find solutions.”
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Zayan nodded to the elder as if acknowledging his new position. “I will do my best to help you. But I request you to help me find my way back if it is possible.” The elder gestured in agreement to Zayan and continued, “That will have to be put on hold for now as the village’s turmoil is soon to grow and you have been the trigger.”
By midday, the murmurs of discontentment had grown louder. The short man, who had been among those to bring Zayan to the village, stood at the center of a growing crowd near the village center. His frustration was clearly visible, his voice cutting through the chatter.
“Are we going to accept this?” his tone sharp and piercing. “The elder brings a stranger into our village—a boy from the cursed forest no less—and expects us to welcome him with open arms?”
The crowd around him murmured in agreement, emboldened by his words.
“This isn’t just about the boy either.” The short man continued, “It’s about the elder’s judgment. He’s ignored the years of work we’ve done, the loyalty we’ve shown. How long have I worked to better this village? And now, I’m overlooked for some kid outsider?”
The crowd grew as more and more villagers gathered, their faces a mixture of anger and uncertainty. Among them, some nodded in agreement with the short man, while others stood back with uneasy expressions.
Inside the elder’s home, Zayan’s focus on remembering the village’s needs was broken by the sound of raised voices. He glanced at the elder, who had paused mid-sentence, his brow creasing.
“Stay here,” the elder said abruptly, rising from his seat.
Zayan watched as the elder stepped outside, his old yet broad shoulders tense. Curiosity got the better of him, and he moved to the doorway, peering out at the scene unfolding in front of the elder’s house.
The short man stood at the center of the crowd, his voice carrying his own growing unrest but which appeared to have been a voice for the crowd.
“This village is ours to protect!” he shouted. “And now the elder risks it all for a boy we know nothing about? A boy who could bring ruin upon us? A boy from that cursed forest which has caused us years of suffering.”
The elder stepped in front of the crowd, his presence immediately commanding attention. The crowd quieted slightly, but the tension in the air was intense.
“I understand your concerns.” The elder began, his voice was calm but firm. “But my decision stands. Zayan has the potential that this village needs right now. He is not a threat but an opportunity.”
“Not a threat?” the short man spat. “You don’t know that. He came from the forest—the same forest that has taken so many of our own! And now you place him in a position of trust above all who worked for this village their whole life?”
The elder’s eyes narrowed—almost into a slit—his patience running out. “My decisions are for the good of the village. Zayan’s perspective may offer solutions that we have not yet seen. I have interrogated him in the cell already. You may ask the guards Alaric and Miles who were present during the interrogation. This is a decision I have come to after long thought.”
The crowd stirred, and the division among them grew more apparent. Some agreed with the elder, their trust in his wisdom solid. Others murmured their discord, their fear of the unknown outweighing their faith.
The protest reached its peak as the short man rallied his supporters, their voices rising in defiance of the elder’s decision. The guards stepped in between the protesters and the elder, their presence adding an edge of tension to the scene.
“You are disrupting the peace.” One of the guards said firmly, addressing the short man directly.
The short man sneered but didn’t back down. “Peace? Is it peace to bring danger into our home? To gamble with our lives?”
The elder raised a hand silencing the guards. He spoke as his gaze bore into the short man, his voice cold and steady. “You will not sow discord in this village. I have made my decision, and it is final.”
For a moment, it seemed as though the short man might challenge the elder directly. But the weight of the guards’ presence, and his declining support, combined with the elder’s unwavering authority, forced him to back down.
“This isn’t over so soon.” the short man muttered under his breath, retreating into the crowd.
As the crowd began to disperse, the elder turned back toward his home. His expression was exhausted. Zayan watched him approach silently.
“Why do you trust me?” he asked the elder feeling a closer relationship.
The elder paused, his gaze was heavy. “I do not trust you. But I do see potential in you. And sometimes, the potential is worth the risk.”