The Stray Dog

When I open my eyes, I’m surprised to recognise these fat fingers I’ve been used to for years, for lifetimes. Not just any fingers, not the ones of my current body, but Razzel’s. Prince Razzel Od Mithril’s. My own. My very own.

“Is everything… back to normal?” I mutter to myself. “Was it all but a nightmare?”

    But then I feel a presence. Someone. Someone is here.

    All around me is white. A white room making it impossible to ignore the figure of the girl standing before me, metres away. Long, large bands of fabric hang from her skirt, at either side of her hips. White-and-purple. Its hues matching her amethyst eyes. Her hair, beetroot-red, is tied in two curly ponytails.

“Pecce?” I utter.

    But she’s not the only one. From the corner of my mithril eyes, I perceive another figure and turn to face a man dressed in rags. A nascent beard, messy chestnut hair. His tiger-eye gaze directed at me.

“What? What is he doing here?”

    Turning away from Gryffin, my eyes meet a third figure. All dressed in black, same for his gloves cut at the edges. His hair of a royal blue, a few locks of a vivid hue. A labradorite gaze beyond his hexagonal glasses.

“No…” I let out.

    They circle me, expressionless.

“No… I’m sorry… I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have judged you. I didn’t know you. I didn’t know.”

    Are they dead? Am I too? Where am I?

    As I turn and turn around, like on a merry-go-round, their figures flash before my eyes. Yet all they do is stand there, motionless, their gazes directed at me.

“What do you want?!”

“Live.” Pecce says.

    At the sound of her voice, I focus on her. Breathless.

“Why?! Don’t you hate me? Don’t you resent me?”

“Live.” Gryffin utters.

    I turn to face him.

“By my fault, your daughter and Ameline won’t see you again!”

“See, and live.” Seveg’s lips give shape to these words as I turn to face him.

    Silence settles between us, and before I can find anything to say, a thin smile forms upon his lips and everything vanishes.

𖢻 𖢻 𖢻

    It was the year he was eleven that Seveg began to learn the trade of a mercenary.

    The last memory of his previous life was located in a corner of his house.

    Specks of blood sullied his glasses, yet he wouldn’t have cared to brush them off. It’s not like he really wished to have a better sight of his parents’ corpses, at the man leaned over his mother’s, slitting her chest, her flesh until he could get a hold of her heart. Ripping the labradorite gem from the last organic filaments holding it in place.

    Weak. Incompetent. Unable to act.

    All he was able to do when the slaughter began was to crawl to a corner of the room and stare. Terrified. His body had reacted before his numbed mind, his pants soon dirtied. A heavy stench of ammoniac filled the air.

    Unable to save.

    Horrified as much by the scene as by himself, Seveg didn’t move, barely breathed until the murderer straightened up and turned towards him. Done with his parents.

    His gaze wasn’t like the boy expected it to be. Not bloodthirsty. Not nearly satisfied. Just vacant.

    And with those same vacant eyes, the mercenary observed Seveg for a while. As if he had really noticed his presence only now. Maybe so he did.

    It was only after a while, the boy’s heart beating wild in his chest, that the mercenary took a couple of steps in the direction of the door. About to leave.

    Except that, before doing so, he gestured towards Seveg to follow him.

    Did he take pity on him? Did he want to keep him for later, after he and his heart would grow a bit more? Seveg didn’t know. He couldn’t read minds. But what he knew was that nothing tied him to a normal life any more.

    And thus, instead of dying alone, the boy chose to leave it all behind.

𖢻                        

𖢻

                       𖢻

    Despite Seveg’s fears, Umbek didn’t seem to have any murderous plans about him. Not only did the mercenary offer him food and allow him to rest in his very house, but he also taught Seveg how to gain his own Orlofflesia. This, of course, Umbek did in his very own way.

    He taught Seveg the ways of a mercenary. He taught him how to recognise the different varieties of gems.

“It’s not about choosing people weaker than you to kill, it’s about learning what to expect from them when they are cornered.” Umbek once told him. “There are patterns we all follow, others that you have to learn to identify quickly. If you don’t, you’ll become the prey.”

“Why do I have to kill?” Seveg asked.

    Umbek turned his carnelian eyes to him. His expression was as vacant as usual, though a bit baffled.

“Do you know any other way to live?”

    Seveg stared back at the man who killed his parents.

    He found no answer to give.

    Were his eyes vacant, like Umbek’s? Eyes like precious stones, and yet so devoid of any spark. How was it even possible? In the beginning, Seveg thought maybe one day he would use what he learnt from Umbek to kill him. Once efficient enough.

    But…

    Did he hate him? At the beginning, he sure did. Umbek was the one who took everything away from him.

    And yet, the more time passed by, the more living with him became a habit.

    Umbek wasn’t mean to him. In fact, he was even rather considerate. Aside from the food… Seveg would qualify it as poisonous, but he knew it wasn’t intentional. It was just the reason Seveg quickly learnt to cook. Survival reasons.

    But, to Umbek’s eyes, what he did — the murders, not the cooking — wasn’t such a crime.

“Monsters kill gemans. Gemans kill monsters. Gemans kill gemans. Isn’t it what people call a natural cycle?” Umbek once told Seveg. “We kill monsters for many resources, like their meat, their heart from which we grind Orloff’s Powder or… ahh more people call it Orlofflesia nowadays. And gemans? We kill them for the magic in their heart. Do you know how many monsters’ hearts you need to meet the magic potency in one geman’s heart?”

“I don’t.” Seveg replied.

“A hundred. At least. That’s why we don’t; their magic is just too residual.”

“Are we monsters?”

    Umbek briefly paused his knife polishing to glance at Seveg. His gaze still devoid of life.

“Ahh, that. Find your own answer, child.” He sighed. “As long as you can live with that.”

    As time passed by, Seveg realised with resentment that this wasn’t just Umbek. Many people were like him. Many lacked a spark in their gaze. It wasn’t even just others’ life they didn’t value. They viewed their own this way too.

    He found that hideous.

“If only there were more people who considered life with value,” Seveg once pondered to himself, lying on his bed, “maybe our world could be different.”

    Shifting on his mattress, he rolled on his back, crossing his arms beneath his head.

“But, do I even consider mine has any?”

𖢻                              

𖢻

                    𖢻

    Umbek died at forty-seven years old. Life might be fond of irony, since he was unfortunate enough to get killed by another mercenary. A natural cycle, was that what he called it? That’s probably how he would comment on his death were he still able to.

    At the time, Seveg was sixteen. Freshly an adult, since a geman became one at fifteen. Seveg heard that it was common among powerful clans to organise a coming-of-age celebration on that occasion. Ordinary families treated it at least as a very special birthday.

    Seveg and Umbek didn’t hold any particular celebration. Thus, barely seven days past his mentor’s death, Seveg took not one but two important decisions.

    He decided to hang up his mercenary activities.

“Do you know any other way to live?” Umbek’s words echoed in his mind.

    He would find.

    He would go on a journey through Juweld and find. Answers, perhaps more questions. A spark.

    With what he earned so far, and what Umbek left behind, he should have enough Orlofflesia for quite a while. This would be his coming-of-age celebration.

    By foot, by airship when he realised it was necessary, Seveg travelled through Juweld. Avoiding bigger towns, going from village to village, he met countless people, he discovered countless sights he had no idea existed.

    It’s upon leaving Pellagia, a coastal village, that Seveg made one of his most hopeful memories.

“Young man! Yes, you over there.” A raspy voice called as he made his way through the market, a huge backpack on his back. The woman was so old her loose cheeks shook as she gestured at him to come closer. “I don’t bite, come here. Look at my necklaces. They’re all handmade.”

    Politely, Seveg approached to take a glance at the merchandise. None of them costed much, nor were they flawless pieces of art. Part of the necklaces included corals, shells, and even…

“What is this one made with?” Seveg pointed at one of them.

“Moonstonefish’s teeth.” She replied. “White with a bluish glow, well, they look like said gems and hide among corals.”

    The teeth themselves were shaped like thin, small moon crescents.

    But, more than the necklaces themselves, it was their uselessness which caught Seveg’s attention.

“Do you earn your living selling these?”

“I do, my good sir. I sure do, whenever I do not kick my husband out of our house to collect us some crabellites for dinner. Their claws are delicious, you know? I have, sealed in that grand memory of mine, a seaweed recipe including them. I learned it from my grandma, who herself learned it from her grandma and…”

    These trinkets held no particular value. They would never serve to craft an artifact, wouldn’t make anyone’s fortune. Actually, they served no purpose.

    But this was what made them beautiful in his eyes.

    As the old woman spoke, Seveg noticed that there was a light in her citrine gaze. Life. A glance was sufficient to get that this old one valued her life.

“Fascinating.”

“I know.” The grandma proudly raised her nose, thinking Seveg had listened until the end.

“I’ll take this one.” He pointed at one of the teeth-made necklaces.

    The grandma beamed.

    She beamed even more when Seveg gave her twice the price she asked for.

    Maybe it was something like this he sought. Maybe doing useless things could keep people sane.

    This night, aboard a small airship taking him away from Pellagia, Seveg felt for the first time the desire to write.

    He observed the shrinking silhouettes of the round houses, made of empty shells of Great Ruby Urchins and other varieties, adorning different colours. A window was built at the top of the houses, where the shell offered a natural hole.

    He observed all of that, a pen between his fingers.

    His words portrayed the feeling left by his encounter with the old woman.

𖢻                              

𖢻

                     𖢻

    Knock, knock. Knock, knock.

“Yes…?” A man whispered, opening his door just enough to cast an iron gaze outside, his fingers cautiously pressed against the door.

    That customer couldn’t have acted in a more suspicious way.

“Your delivery.” Seveg still managed to keep an insensitive expression.

    He was merely completing his daily tasks, only aiming to gain some Orlofflesia to fill his thinning savings. After two years spent travelling, it couldn’t be eternally avoided. It was why he stopped in Samsara, a village big enough for him to find work. Seveg had no intention to pry. Especially when a glance at the man told him all he needed to know. He was a nice man.

“Ohh… Ohh, yes. I asked for a carrier to bring me all these groceries.” He nervously laughed, glancing at a cart outside. It was filled with different edible goods. “I, indeed, eat quite a lot.”

“Sure.” Seveg held back the urge. “Should I bring it inside?”

“No!” The iron-eyed man replied too quickly. “No, don’t bother. I will do it myself.”

    In the end, he just handed him bag after bag. Never crossing the threshold.

    This was how Seveg’s first encounter with Ferrick occurred. This should have been the only time they interacted.

    But…

𖢻                            

𖢻

                       𖢻

    Tapping his magic pen against his lips, Seveg considered the next words to align in his notebook. Comfortably settled on a bunch of boxes, under the light of a magic lamp, he was already half-done with his novel.

    Night was truly his favourite moment to write. But it was also the moment when most unfortunate things occurred. Tonight was far from an exception.

    When, from the corner of his labradorite eyes, Seveg recognised the figure of that man with iron eyes he saw the other day, the writer within him already knew. This night might as well be the last he spent writing peacefully.

    It didn’t take long before he noticed a second figure moving along with the shadows. The iron-eyed man was being tailed. And, judging by his pursuer’s confident demeanour, there was little doubt about their occupation.

    A deadpan expression on his features, Seveg’s gaze followed them closely.

    He readjusted his glasses with a folded index finger.

    Pulling away his pen, Seveg made without a frown a decision that would change his life. He decided he wouldn’t let this murder occur.

𖢻                            

𖢻

                      𖢻

    Both men were sitting around a glass of one of those strong bottles of alcohol one keeps for harsh times. Tonight was judged as one such harsh time. Ferrick offered Seveg a glass, pretending he would need it. Ferrick was actually the one who needed it the most. His fingers trembled.

    Seveg’s intertwined, his hands rested on the table. He could feel that his host avoided to look at him because of the specks of blood on his cheek. Still, he didn’t care to wipe them away.

    As the silence began stretching for too long, Ferrick finally took hold of his own glass, downing it in one straight gulp.

    A thud.

“Ahhhh!”

    The glass, now empty, was back on the table.

“I feel better now.” Ferrick began.

    He managed to make eye contact with Seveg. Which was, he guessed, still progress.

“So.” Ferrick uttered, and this was where his bravado fell short.

“So.” Seveg decided to end the torture. “Are you hiding someone? Someone that, in the eyes of some people, perhaps should be dead?”

    Ferrick gasped.

“How… How do you know?”

“After our first encounter, I checked if there was a price put on your head. Which was negative.” He paused. “That mercenary could’ve just been after any heart, but given your behaviour, I suspect that there’s more to it.”

“My… behaviour?” Ferrick frowned.

    Oh dear, he was one of those.

“You’re a bad liar.”

    Which triggered another loud gasp.

    For some reason, Seveg couldn’t hold back a thin smile and a silent chuckle. Both anyway quieted by the feeble light of the candle between them.

“Speak, and I might help you.”

“You would… help me?” Ferrick cautiously asked.

“Didn’t I already save your life?”

“I mean… you did.” Ferrick briefly averted his iron gaze, deep in thought. When he met Seveg’s eyes again, there was a newfound resolve. “You were right. In addition to me, there are two other gemans in this house. Both are in danger of death, targeted by mercenaries. Were they to quit this place, I wouldn’t bet on them making it.”

“Why?”

“Well, they’re not exactly good at fighting nor-”

“No, I meant why do you bother to protect them?” Seveg rectified. “You caught a glimpse tonight of what awaits you for such reckless decisions.”

“They want to live.” Ferrick replied with much more confidence than before. “Isn’t that enough?”

    Seveg’s lips parted. No sound escaped them. None needed to.

    Images flashed through his mind. Faces of people like that grandma he met in Pellagia. The kind he wrote about. People with a spark in their gaze.

“Then, we’ll make sure they’re safe.”

𖢻                                 

𖢻

                       𖢻

    After months of trying his hand at monster hunting, there was one thing Seveg understood. He wasn’t cut for it. Killing monsters required other skills than the ones Umbek helped him harness as a mercenary. He could learn it, but it would take too long.

    His many wounds wouldn’t feed the growing number of people living at the Shelter, now located in Felbalia. It was Seveg’s idea. Being in a larger town avoided drawing unwanted attention.

“None of them can venture beyond this house’s doors…” Ferrick lamented once. “They can’t take such risks.”

“It leaves only you and I to earn enough Orloffesia for everyone.”

“It’s becoming increasingly difficult.” Ferrick’s jaws tightened. “Maybe…”

    Seveg let out a puff of smoke, lowering his thin pipe.

“I’ll earn enough for us all.”

“Huhh?” Ferrick blinked. “But…”

“I have my ways.”

    It wasn’t the best. Both of them were well aware of it. It wasn’t the one he wished for. But Seveg made it his decision. It was his choice, but he would never make his reasons an excuse.

    There was no way he would give up now, not when he finally found that something which would keep his gaze from being as vacant as Umbek’s.

“I found a reason to live. How ironic that it brings me back to this life.”

“Seveg…”

“At least, it’ll make it easier to find the ones meant to join you.”

    His mentor might have a point after all.

“Do you know any other way to live?” Umbek’s words echoed.

“Being a writer would’ve been nice, though…” Seveg muttered to himself.

    But his hands weren’t meant to give life.

    Maybe letting himself die instead of following Umbek the day his parents were killed would’ve been a better decision? Maybe. He wasn’t the one who would decide it.

𖢻                              

𖢻

                      𖢻

“I see.” The drunkard choked out. “I was your target from the beginning.”

    The bitterness in his voice caught Seveg’s attention. It wasn’t the voice of someone about to die. Not that of a resigned man.

    Did he make a mistake?

    He promised Ferrick to, at least, never kill someone with the will to live. Someone who valued life.

    Why was Gryffin so different tonight from the man he inscribed the name on his kill list?

    One last drink… It was a custom he grew into, to at least offer something to the one he was about to take everything from. The one who would allow them to leave a little while longer.

    Seveg already got that eery feeling back at The Merry King.

“In another life, perhaps we could’ve been friends.”

    The next moment, Gryffin’s lifeless body hit the ground, and Seveg’s consciousness vanished.