Identity and Disparity

Ashes are swept by his figure in the surrounding air's recovery. A defeated storm and its wound slowly healing. The heavy rain would soon return.

In what's left of the sun's spotlight, a boy in the uniform of a middle schooler stands. His eyes are shut, and hair floating with the static that envelopes him.

Garth, stricken with disbelief reaches for his staff and pulls himself up.

His wary subordinates, shaken, follow his lead and take their staffs in defensive positions.

"By the mystique," Garth points his staff to the boy, "explain yourself."

There's a long pause; Garth and his subordinates await pensively.

"I said name yourself stra—" Garth's shout is cut short in a rush.

The boy wobbled in place before falling, but Garth was there in time to catch him. The rain began to pour, and the thunder returned louder.

"Your greatness!" The closest subordinate arrives to aid. "Did you knock him out?"

Garth didn't answer, only looking upon the boy in his arms, formulating what to do next.

***

A cart like one used by maids is being pushed through a hall by a middle-aged lady. On the cart sits the folded uniform the middle-schooler wore and various porcelain wares. She enters a room and in it lies the middle school boy, tucked into a bed and asleep.

The muffled sounds of a storm still raging can be heard, lightning faintly pulsing the room through the thin curtains.

She sits on the side of the bed and reaches for his forehead to take away a rag. With his face uncovered, she looked upon him caringly and returned her hand to part any hairs that block the sight. Then, by only happening to lightly touch his skin, a tiny jolt of electricity startled her.

She didn't know what to do besides keep distance, and as the quake of a strong thunder rumbled the building, the boy winced and woke in a haze.

The lady gasped and stood up, worried to be alone with him. "Love!" She called out.

An answer came in the form of urgent steps and what could be tumbling books. Someone was in a rush to assist the lady, and when they entered the room, it's revealed to be Garth in homely attire.

“Is he awake?” He joins her at the side of the bed.

“Nearly.” The lady holds Garth’s arm. “What if he really is the source?”

“Then I’ll have him dealt with accordingly.”

“There must be some other way.”

“We don’t have the leisure to allow any glimmer of chaos escape on the city’s grounds. It’s either he is tamed, or in failure, killed.

“He’s not some beast love, he’s just a little boy…” she gestures to his sleeping face, but he groans and rolls to his side, pulling the covers over his head to block out the disturbances. “See?”

"He may be," Garth places a hand on the boy's shoulder and shakes him, "but it's been long enough. Awake boy!"

The boy swats away at the hand but he's far too drowsy and weak to resist, "I'm awake, no wait, give a few minutes..." Then the irregular setting of his surroundings kicks in and he sits up as if awoken from a fever dream. "Ah! What, where?"

"Calm down child." Garth holds him still by the shoulders and looks him in the eyes. "Do you—"

"Who are you? Is this a dream? Heaven? Hell? What?" He rapid fires all his concerns before Garth or his companion can answer.

"I said calm down." Garth starts a chant, waving a finger in the boy's frantic face. "By the one and true, aura, ease oneself."

Just like that, the boy froze, then returned with a mellow attitude and slurred speech. "Yyeess?"

"What have you done?" The lady puts Garth's hand down. "You shouldn't be wielding magic in this house, let alone a young boy."

"My specialty soothing spell, good against a weak mind." Garth thoroughly inspects the boy with some pride in his work.

"That's not the point!"

"Hmm-uh?" The boy goes wall-eyed.

"How is he to answer anything in that state!"

"Seems I've overestimated his mental fortitude."

"He's a child!"

"...You're right." He lowers his head momentarily. "It's worth a try though."

"Love, he's asleep."

The boy's head is slumped and drool drips from his lips.

"Focus child!" He shakes him vigorously once more.

"Bah..." The boy reopens his eyes to a look farther detached from this plane of existence. "What's it to ya?"

The lady can't bear to look, a part of her is disappointed and the other is trying not to laugh.

"Where are you from?"

"My mama's house."

"And your mother resides... where?"

"In mah heart!" The boy slams a fist to his chest.

There's a pause, then Garth shakes his head and hovers a hand over the boy and chants. "Disrupt the influence of an almighty."

The boy returns from his hypnotic departure, the ease quickly replaced with an expression ready to scream. “What is going— “

“Pipe it down you brat.” Garth demands with a stronger grip on his shoulders.

"That's no way to speak to the poor boy." The lady smacked Garth upside the head. "He's clearly frightened."

"Understood..."

The Lady sits beside the boy and leans in with a gentle caress of his back to calm him. "I'm sorry if we've scared you. My name is Hiya and this man is my husband Garthil, or just Garth."

The boy’s breathing slows, and he nods.

"Do you have a name child?"

“I’m Oboeru Saboru."

Garth and Hiya look at each other, Garth shrugging in response to her strange look.

"Is it fine we call you something else?"

"I don't know." He clenches the sheets. "Is there something wrong?"

Hiya ponders for a moment, not answering the boy and even whispering something exciting to Garth. When they look back to him, there's a building tension for something they find exciting to announce, a proposal soon to be made.

"Aurdon. How does that name sound to you?" Hiya takes his hands in hers. "Oh, it must be perfect!"

"Sure?" He looks down and away.

"Excellent!" Hiya hugs the newly named Aurdon, strands of her hair floating up for a moment that caught Garth's attention.

Garth pats down the strands, an act mistaken as a rare and kind gesture from a dear partner to her, but an action out of concern for him. It brought a tingling sensation to his palm, the phenomena shifting from curiosity to urgency.

"My everlasting, do you mind preparing something for the boy to eat?" Garth puts on an almost transparent act of hospitality only to hurry Hiya away.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea!" She broke away from Aurdon and stood up, clapping once in thought of what to cook. "I know just the thing." To the door, she shocked herself on the handle, then laughed it off and continued out.

Garth focuses seriously on the small shock she received, then sighs and looks over the nervous Aurdon, the boy doing his best to not make eye contact.

"It's been far too long since lady Hiya moved about so energetically." He loomed over the boy with a harsh gaze. "Don't soil it, lest you wish to be dismantled and returned to the aura you came from."

Aurdon shook his head, affirming that he wouldn't dare. He had no choice; the fear answered for him.

"Now, you've the best brewed tea in all of Citurna, and your clothes cleaned and folded just before you." He waves his hand to the cart. "Collect yourself and join me in my study when you're ready. It will be the first door on your right."

Garth moves towards the door but is interrupted by Aurdon faintly speaking up. "Excuse me, Garthil, sir."

"You will address me as Garth or 'your greatness,' for now. What is it?"

"Garth, your greatness, where are we? Citurna, in what country is that?"

He raises a brow as though a prank were being played. "You must be confused. Citurna is our world. As for where we stay, this is my home in Merilam. To speak our tongue but not know of the lands, you must be dizzy. Do have some tea."

Aurdon flinches and looks at his surroundings, especially the stormy outside.

"Is that all?" Garth readjusts his collar.

"Yes..."

Now alone, Aurdon takes to the tea provided, sniffing it, and then having a sip.

“Hm… it’s very sweet.” He puts the cup down and lays back in the bed to meander his focus to the ceiling. “What?”

He sits back up and takes a sip again and pauses, his emotions fighting between fear and indifference, only to settle with confusion. His folded uniform catches his peripheral, and he decides there’s nothing left to do but push on.

***

In his study, Garth patrols a bookshelf that for a study is uncharacteristically sparse of books. Despite that, he still takes great care in choosing which to pick from, his hand hovering towards and away indecisively.

“Electricity, without chanting. Never have I seen such a thing.” He squints at a thin book that sits alone on a shelf. Then he takes it. “Will this be of any use?”

With the book in hand and parted, he does another round of his patrol while reading its contents.

“Just as memorized,” he flips a page, his voice lowering to a mumble. “Grant the parting souls a final duty to aura and rush thee.”

He holds out his empty hand to a candle, a concentration of light at his fingertips building up. Then at its brightest, a branch of electricity targets the wick and lights it, with only a snap to be heard.

“It’s not the same…”

Garth leaves the open book at his desk in anticipation for something, and that something arrives in the form of a knock at his study’s door. 

“Hello?” The muffled voice of Aurdon comes from the other side. 

"Enter."

Nervous and polite, Aurdon peers through the door, then enters, gently closing it behind him as if fragile to the touch. He stands just at the door, awaiting further instruction as if one wrong move will be the end of him.

Garth goes back to the shelf and grabs another book from the lowest row, then walks over to him and hands it out, Aurdon hesitant at first, takes the book.

“Have a gander inside.” He says, crossing his arms. “Read any segmented line aloud, and with a hand open and out toward me.”

He abides by the instruction and opens the book to the first page. The text is nothing like any from his world, but to his astonishment, he can understand.

“I can read it.” He flips to the next page, squinting at the markings, searching for how he can derive any meaning, but it comes to him just as easily as he breaths. “Why do I…” His train of thought and voice sink into investigative silence.

“I’m not hearing what I requested of you.” Garth comes closer and prods a finger at one of the lines. “Do as I say and don’t stall any longer.”

Aurdon swallows his curiosity and takes a quaking breath. “Yes. Um…” His eyes jot about to the smallest phrase, and he holds out his hand. "The insightful aura, guide me to rest."

Nothing occurred at the end of his line to Garth's bewilderment. "Another."

He attempted again through different lines, all with the same result. When Garth had enough, he felt like a complete failure, believing he had read the texts wrong, fearing the worst when the book is taken from him.

"Even goblins can cast a spell by the name of a false god." He waved the book about, then tossed it to the ground. "No, regardless of affiliation, the simplest spells can stir up a spark."

Aurdon's throat tightens whenever he tries to speak up, and his head grows heavy if he tries to face Garth's disappointment. The best he can muster is standing before the beratement without shedding a tear.

"Next you won't be able to even pick up a sword, is it?" He snapped his fingers in Aurdon's face. "Look at me when spoken to. Are you hiding something boy?"

"No, your greatness."

"I wouldn't take you in like I did if you weren't supposed to be special. Prove to me that you're worth something. Keep in mind who exactly you're listening to. I'm Garthil, the great wizard of Merilam. Demons would hesitate to cross my path, for I am the mystique's most devote." 

Garth's rant doesn't miss a note or pause for any breaths.

"Demons?" Aurdon's posture shrunk.

"Correct, and under my name you should no less defeat a squabble of goblins at your age."

Aurdon mumbled. "Goblins... Demons...?"

"If not magic, then we will compromise, blade wielders have potential to even surpass the offensive capabilities of a wizard like me, although a small number of such comparison exist. First thing tomorrow, I'll have you introduced to an expert."

"Um..."

"If even she can't get you to slice apart the core of a slime, then don't bother returning home."

"Home?" The hairs of Aurdon's neck rose, and the chunk of shame that choked him dislodged. "This isn't my home. I want to go home. Go to my parents... I don't even know who you are besides being a geezer with a weird name and some s-stupid wizard stu—"

"What home do you have, boy?" Garth drills a finger into his forehead. "Your parents, where are they from? You've been brought to ME by the grace of mystique's aura. Be thankful of where you are in her name and mine."

"I-I'm from Japan!"

"There's not a single place named such a disfigured text like that, and your original name is gibberish."

"Earth?"

"Not a city, any of the nine countries, or any of the three continents."

"It's a planet!"

"I'm not well studied on celestial bodies, if you're truly from another, then there's not a chance in the abyssal domain you're returning."

Aurdon began to tear up, walking out the door and to his stay.

Garth stays cold after the altercation, only returning the book to its place and taking a seat at his desk.

***

The waking morning of the disaster still leaves its sheen over the city of Merilam. A few stones dislodged, tiles of roofs missing or shattered against the cobble roads, and wagons turned over. A city-wide recovery operation is in order, and knights, wizards, barbarians, and more are amongst the people to assist. Still, some keep to their daily duties. The most fortunate of stores are opening, and schools keep in session.

Through the streets moves a horse-drawn and enclosed carriage, the steerer being an old butler-like individual that all the citizens stop to watch pass, but it's not just his presence that has notoriety. The eloquently designed carriage and its well-known owner are the main appeal of this occasion. As for who it belongs to will be soon revealed as the carriage comes to a stop at a fenced field and wide gazebo.

On the other side of the fence, a herd of children younger than Aurdon take to greeting the carriage occupants. Behind them, a towering woman in combat gear and a sheathed sword at her hip strut to the fence as well, an unamused stare at the arrival.

The door to the carriage opens, and to the sight of Garth leaving comes the squeals out of all the young children.

Garth indulges in his young fans with a wave of his hand in greetings and even pats a few lucky ones at the front. "Shall the mystique's aura encapsulate you and your smiles for eternity."

"You've got some nerve oh greatness, disrupting my schooling." Comes a sly jab from the geared woman. "Whatever you come for, it better not be to just coddle my students."

"I wouldn't dare again, Feiom." He extends his praising hand in her direction. "may you bask in the mystique's aura, fair one."

"Thank you, Garth, but please hurry things up."

"What I bring concerns you greatly Feiom, so bear with the trouble being a little more than expected." Garth looks into the cart and beckons someone from inside. "Make yourself known to Feiom, and wave to the children."

Out steps Aurdon from the cart, his head low and the socket of his eyes red and bagged. What sun there is blinds him, and the children receive the sight of him with bated breath.

Garth nudges him with his staff. "Introduce yourself."

"...Hey?"