The Light In Your Eyes…
It was the year 1,024, 2nd month, 4th week's 1st day. Phesx could now be considered 17 years old. He truly wasn't that young anymore.
It was night, and a bit late, so he ought to leave the pizzeria. But just before he walked out, signaling goodbye to the owners, a lady walked to him, carrying a pizza with her. Phesx Caolia stopped, not going to deny a pizza. He thanked the lady in silence before returning to his house. Phesx's quiet attitude paired with his politeness gained him a bit of popularity everywhere, his employers in the pizzeria weren't immune.
Not knowing why, from the others; not understanding it, from himself. Phesx Caolia had a charm to his silly little self. He had grown taller, much taller. But that wasn’t the problem drawing attention to himself, it was the strange charm that came from his confidence.
He hasn’t grown handsome, to his relief. But some girls he always thought could only care to match their pretty faces with someone wouldn’t stop giving him glances. At first, it was natural, he was a strange but understood commodity at the entrance or walking around a tall building carrying heavy stuff.
But then, those glances would be replaced by little chats, further emboldened to some moves, innocent or flirtatious. Even though all that training in Riverlye didn’t bring him justice, with his torso-hoodie and his long pants or jeans covering it, his hard work didn’t go unnoticed.
After going up, Phesx Caolia wolfed that pizza. It wouldn’t be like before, where the next days would be little food and sleep, something he grew used to. But this was the first time his employers actually gave him a whole pizza. Before, it was a slice or dessert.
He enjoyed the full box for himself. Thinking about buying 2 boxes for every new week’s start, Phesx Caolia nodded in satisfaction before preparing to get out. Tomorrow was the day, and it was night already.
Ever since he used his small pistol, Phesx Caolia had kept it with him but never used it again. Still with 23 bullets in the magazine, Phesx couldn’t buy more until he was of age and got a permit. It would be… doubtful if refugees from a civil war could not only drive but own weapons underage.
As Phesx Caolia went down the stairs to his Myertha, watched by some guys walking by from the neighborhood, and the reason some cars slowed down while driving by, Phesx carried his helmet under his left armpit. He unlocked the Myertha before straddling it.
During these 5 months, Phesx has been keeping all his money, already having opened a tedious, unnecessarily slow bank account from Lýmoca’s national bank. Not counting the rent and the groceries, which he ate at home very little every month, the rent being 2,000 and the groceries 1,200 credits, Phesx made 28,000 credits a month.
Phesx’s income is 31,200 credits, with all the small jobs in those 3 days, and the refugee’s pension. The more he worked, the more he realized how generous the pizzeria guys were. Nothing much happened when he guarded it. There were some drunk fellows he had to check before allowing in, almost being slapped every time out of their own shame.
Sometimes, they caused trouble. That gave Phesx more work, but he presented solid responses to that.
As for working with the old man, there were a couple of situations where the livestock escaped from his truck and a random person waiting at the side felt lucky.
That day, the old man confirmed Phesx didn’t have those scars out of tragedies, but battle. Either way, Phesx Caolia felt good beating people again. He longed to become an Artista more and more.
The most boring days, or uneventful, were in the tall building. Every floor was an office, and every office was mindless, spiritless adults getting to work. The occasional chat with coffee, or any other drink of their preference happened, talking in low spirits and rapidly going back to work.
“Sigh,” Phesx sighed, feeling his Myertha begin roaring, both contented. Having grown used to it, he softly grinned before picking his feet up. He first went to the pizzeria, planning to let old man Emer know a bit of actual food.
Then, paying 300 credits for 2 regular boxes, he left. His total saved gains were 140,000 credits in these 5 months, but he used 12,000 credits to get clothes and a fridge. It was narrow, but it could hold all the fruit and water bottles he wanted, so it was perfect.
Afterwards, he rushed into the roads and headed to the center of Sargonde. His current balance was of 128,000, that had to be enough to cover for the training. He hoped to at least make 10,000 more credits each month while working for Riverlye.
Although Phesx unwillingly learned of the trade and statistics from Victor Ruva, he wasn’t experienced with life. There were things the internet didn’t have, like concrete answers to any question books could have. What books couldn’t have, in retrospect, was the smoothness a good teacher could instruct a person and share their views.
Anyhow, Phesx Caolia rushed forth with the boxes in the rear compartment, keeping them warm and tasty.
… Once arriving at the headquarters, barely 1 AM, Phesx breathed deeply in before stepping into an elevator. Now for real, today was the day. He painfully waited in the elevator as it went a couple of hundred meters underground.
The doors opened. Phesx Caolia looked ahead before bringing his boxes ahead. He calmly walked, slow and steady. His footsteps were hidden to the hearing of even some Artistas walking around, helping with some logistics. Only noticing Phesx when he went past them.
The Neophytes this year only amounted to 1,990, or so he heard. But they still had a month to be considered Artistas and have their mission of initiation. One could wonder how Riverlye could have thousands of missions for the new Artistas prepared each year. The answer was as simple as the word simple is, they did their initiations in group.
Phesx Caolia didn’t worry about that. He knew his initiation would be alone. He wouldn’t be the only one, but few do in every batch of new Artistas. Phesx only worried about the cost of the training and that of the weapons and bions.
There were internal and external type of bions. Phesx Caolia wanted to acquire ‘void’ bions as much as he could. And perhaps… create some himself?
“Hm…” Phesx Caolia neared the corner to the old man’s alleyway, when he noticed a door elsewhere already open. It was much sooner than usual, or at least since this was the first time Phesx came early. He couldn’t see who was inside, but hearing from dozens of meters away, he could faintly discern the careful and dedication of metal and segments being assembled.
Then, focusing more in his hearing, narrowing his eyes to an almost close, he could hear the sweet sounds of joints and bones surrounded by strength. It was just the adequate to do whatever was happening.
‘Why not?’ Since it wasn’t the expertly but uncaring noises he always heard from the weapons craftsman, Phesx shrugged and walked to the workshop. Emer looked at him with narrowed eyes. Phesx either ignored it or didn’t notice, while Emer felt he lost something.
So far, the training of dodging became more and more… unique. It went from dodging balls from hitting his head to knifing them. Phesx had only one chance to stab them, and from then on, he could only stab them in the same place, no matter their rotation speed and angle.
Phesx had to stab a ball with every motion he made, no matter what. If not, he’ll be stabbed on his shins or between his toes with porcupine spikes. It was pure sadism.
When Phesx became able as much as possible to do that, the old man began teaching him how to dodge-attack with cold weapons. It was more difficult, as he was forced to spin, somersault, dash through air to the side, spinning his body 180 degrees, among other retarded conditions.
But things became worse when handguns became the main weapon this time. Phesx Caolia had to keep the handgun close, fire it without putting pressure in his wrist, and never miss a shot. He also had to destroy the balls little by little, and couldn’t hit a wall no matter what, the floor, or ceiling. The bullet had to stay inside or drop without remnant force. It happened a lot, as such, his nails were poked by a thin needle from underneath. Finger or toe, there was no mercy.
By the end of each training, Phesx’s nails bled down his wrists, making a glazed donut out of his fleshy hand and its blood. When he finally exited Emer’s study room with his nails intact, Phesx was made to do the same with rifles, and even old world shotguns.
Thus, Phesx Caolia found his legs whose bones were dislocated and rearranged each time to become horrendously sore after every training day. Phesx was smart to begin Emer’s training and then rest, but still.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Lately, as Phesx had long mastered that last training session, and did any of what he has already learnt while still training under the Instructors, the old man promised him something. When Phesx proved himself to Emer, not Riverlye, or someone else, but Emer alone, he’d teach the ‘kid’ a good art for any combat. Meant for cold weapons, like swords, with emphasis in swords, but that can be used with even sniping rifles, let alone any other firearm or explosives.
It was a good bait, and while Phesx didn’t know the value of such, he pretty much welcomed the proposal of becoming better at killing. He never heard anyone in Riverlye speak about something like that, so he figured it was either secret… or rare.
Knock, knock, knock-
Phesx Caolia knocked on the side of the workshop, as its door was long left open. Before the third, quick knock echoed ended, a female voice sounded from inside. “Come in.”
Phesx Caolia stepped into the workshop and looked left before looking right. The medic wasn’t here, no sound came from the back rooms, and the weapons craftsman wasn’t present. Only an orange-haired young woman was behind her counter, looking at him as if waiting for him to turn his stupid head towards her.
Feeling like he wasn’t being ushered because of the smell atop his hands, Phesx Caolia immediately went to the point. He walked to her counter and brought a chair with his right leg expertly moving the heavy thing though the floor in one smooth motion.
Dropping them on the chair to not filthy her workbench, Phesx opened the box atop the bottom one and looked at the beauty. “I heard I’ll be relying on you, miss. Also, that… mm… Waleks weapons craftsman after becoming an Artista. Accept my gift, if you will it.”
The orangehead young woman with beautiful, large, elliptic celeste eyes, with freckles all over her face and shoulders and neck, looked at the box before staring at Phesx’s face. She took a slice and put it in her mouth, staring with her eyes as she murmured, “Is that so?”
Afterwards, her eyes darted to the ceiling. Phesx lowered his face a little to the left, wondering if she knew where the pizza came from. Then, she lowered her head after finishing half a slice. Feeling in a good mood, with the cheese and bread mingling and melting with each bite, she blurted. “You are so sure you will become an Artista.”
Phesx Caolia had nothing to say to that. The young woman took another slice with her left hand to take a bite, but then took another with her right and passed it to Phesx. He looked at it when her voice came to his ears, making them tingle a bit.
“If it’s a gift you should've run away after giving it, I would’ve donated it to some poor beggar. But since it’s a gift, then give the honors, too. Don’t just stare.”
Phesx looked up before slowly taking that slice in his left hand. The young woman eyed his hand before nodding, satisfied. Then, they both ate quite a bit of pizza. As a matter of fact, they ate the entire box, enjoying the deliciousness. And why not, chatted with some more in their mouths.
“How did you get some at such a late hour? You live about 2 hours from here, no?” The young woman asked, with the last half of pizza in her hands as she munched. Phesx bit the last bits of his slice. He looked at her, startled at her for knowing his address, and for recognizing where the pizza came from.
The young woman spoke with a neutral, almost cold face. “With the way some Arts call you after you stood out in Mel’s personal lectures, many would like to know about you. Don’t fret, the information I gained is only available for Instructors or higher. I’m higher than an Artista.”
“I… live near it,” Phesx Caolia said, watching her eat the last half in one go. “I also work for it. Do you order it yourself, or ask someone to do it for you?”
“Anyone makes an order through someone. Even other orgs,” the young woman said before staring at the other box. Phesx Caolia looked at it, too. Then, they looked up at each other’s eyes.
As they ate, Pheli seemed focused on him at some point. Just as he wanted to tilt his head to the left, feeling awkward, she commented before going back to wolf the delicious slices. “Even in your delusional state back then, those wide open eyes weren’t as black as today. It’s like they’re losing its brightness.”
20 minutes later, Phesx walked out with the 2 boxes. He kept the empty to throw it somewhere. Just as he stepped at the entrance, he heard the young woman slightly call out. “Pheli!”
Phesx Caolia turned around, not knowing if he misheard. She tilted her head to the left and blinked, “My name. Pheli. You have to ask the people you meet, or at least those you’re currying favor with. It’s just basics to please the others. I don’t like ‘miss’.”
“… Thank you, Pheli.” Phesx Caolia didn’t respond for a second. He didn’t know if he should respond, or if silence was enough. Still, something inside him, not the politeness within, made him want to voice that. Or rather… speak to her. Phesx Caolia turned and went on his way.
When Phesx Caolia reunited with the old man, he had a large frown above his eyes, and a darkened face. Phesx flashed a smile before placing the empty box somewhere and the other on the only table to eat in the study.
Leaving it semi-open, Phesx ignored the old man’s eyes on his back and put his ‘work’ boots and gloves on. Much different to his biker gear, these were to work for Riverlye. In simple, brief words, dangerous and murder were possibly involved.
Emer was kind to provide these for him, one of the reasons Phesx Caolia thought of bringing him food.
“She’s a great choice. Can you handle it? Mn, being with her will be demanding to you. You may not be able to, after all.” The old man’s words seemed to mock him, letting him know he wasn’t enough. Phesx opened his mouth and breathed in from it but said nothing in the end.
“I wasn’t thinking of that. Now, you’ve made this weird, Emer.” Phesx Caolia said after putting his boots on and standing up to try them. They felt good, comfy, and isolated the sensation of the wind and even cut some of it as he swung his feet.
“It’s too small, you know? To feel anything.” Emer suddenly said. Phesx Caolia jolted his head backwards with a weird face. He looked back, only to drop his eyelids at Emer eating the box of pizza with a dissatisfied face. Phesx Caolia said nothing. After all, he ate half the box with Pheli.
“When was the last time you ordered some, fart?” Phesx Caolia asked Emer, seeing him dirty his lips and mouth all over after the first few bites. Emer looked down, not showing any reaction, and just asked, “Never? Where can I start ordering them? It’s so good…”
“…” Phesx Caolia tilted his head to the right, blinked, and arched his right eyebrow. He smiled before turning around. “See you, old. Wish me luck.”
“Break your legs and half your spine.” Phesx Caolia heard Emer speak behind him. His uncaring, burping words strangely reminded him of the promise. A bad, little idea formed in his head as he headed to José’s hall.
… Entering the hall, he saw José there. Phesx unceremoniously went inside and sat cross-legged before the Instructor that has costed him the most to learn under. Even up until now. Phesx sat and relaxed for 2 seconds before commenting, “Waiting for me?”
“When the selected Neophytes embark in their first solo mission, they come to me to be sent off. It’s not necessary, but yes,” José lifted his eyelids and head before looking at Phesx’s eyes. “I was waiting for you.”
Phesx Caolia straightened his back. José gently pressed his lips together, almost a thin smile, before asking him. “So, have you wondered enough? Your breath is solid, it only needs polishing. The body is trained, it only needs unleashing…”
José’s words became somber, “The heart is there, it only needs to speak.”
“…” Phesx pressed his lips. He looked nothing like José, and his mouth seemed bitter instead. Lowering his eyelids, Phesx suddenly felt empty in his belly, his abdomen, and his thighs. Hollow.
His eyelids became heavy, but he wasn’t sleepy. He started wondering things he never did before, or blatantly avoided with robustness. When Phesx felt a little calmer, he looked up, his legs folded, and spoke with his soft… semi-broken voice. “Myself.”
José silently nodded his head, awaiting.
“I believe it doesn’t matter whether I know it or not. Wanting to know it irritates me, so I’d say I feel irritated about myself, but that’s not all!” Phesx’s face shook fiercely. His behavior altered a bit. “It’s like I do want to know it, but not now, and definitely not because someone tells me to.”
“Others do not deserve it. No one cares, so why bother them with anything of mine? It doesn’t matter, thus!” Phesx Caolia cocked his head rightwards, feeling he had the reason. José continued looking without saying a word. Phesx felt a sudden bout of rage again, that irritation, or was it something else?
“No! I don’t even worry about myself, why would others? It- aggh! No!” Phesx began shouting. He could feel his nape lighter and itchy to be scratched, but it wasn’t a ticklish sensation. Phesx wanted to carve his fingers in and take out what’s inside. Maybe even fickle his skull.
“Making me annoyed! Annoyed, irritated, aagh!” Phesx briefly glanced at José before lashing out again. Even now, as he raged, Phesx couldn’t tell why his legs felt so calm and comfortable. Then, he had thoughts of something again. His eyes contents expanded before regressing.
“Myself, me…” Phesx looked at José straight in the eye. Just saying 2 words made the itchiness in his nape increase, making him crazy, lose his head, nuts… making him…
“Mad.” Phesx felt his breath quicken, and his belly funny. It was almost like laughter. It sounded just like what he heard boys and girls speak of butterflies in their stomachs when thinking of their special someone, but maybe it was a bit more like worms.
“Mad?” José blinked, knitted his eyebrows, and squinted. Phesx Caolia threw his head backwards and hung his neck. Oh, he suddenly felt peaceful. He repeated, softly and in a seemingly relaxed, actually broken, voice. “Mad.”
“…It fits you.” José heard it for the second time, and after a few moments, he grinned. Phesx kept a relaxed, slothful expression without saying a thing.
“Phesx, your alias, Fox, has received a mission. It’s time you go out.” José stopped his left hand from tapping the young boy’s right arm. He waved a bit of air onto the arm instead. Phesx chuckled softly through his nostrils, smiling from the left corner of his mouth, and nodded before standing up.
“What are this Fox’s orders?” Phesx Caolia asked, relaxed and at ease. Any thought that’d cause him trouble or linger gone, not missing, extinguished.
“That’s for the Head to say. Go, your Instructors will wait, but not forever. Nor will your mission. Word; breathe and unleash through your body and heart.” José said, lifting his head to stare at the young boy, at Fox.
Phesx, Fox, the young boy; turned, looked back, and nodded. Walking out of the room, he could hear José’s murmurs. The end of which coincided with the last thought crossing his mind before feeling… like himself for the first time of his life… From then on.
“… When you change, you are careful the blood doesn’t ruin the closets, or make things worse for those who’d clean afterwards. You act polite, but you’ve been long resigned to being a slave of habit. When there’s something, anything, appearing as a desire, you cannot keep it… No longer. You don’t need a savior or a nemesis, only to liberate and… be yourself.”
‘From now on, I am free…’ Phesx Caolia headed to the Head’s study. He would wear the cloak, and when he returns, he’d be hooded still. Flourished into an Artista.
…