...
...Clay can shatter at any moment, or can be brought into shards with a single pull…
…I know Bart became a shell since that day. Somehow, he is still alive, so you did. He didn't know anything about my disease, because there wasn't any. A plenty of attention has been given since then by father to daughter, not only because most of the time I'm out of home, or because Freya is far younger than Jack, who already knows the basics of living, but mainly due the eyes…
…Those little peridots have found a way to trespass Bart into her, unlike her hair that keeps growing, unlike my doubts. While Bart keeps staring at everything with wide eyes open, only my dear seems to be able to blink far more than his. While our daughter is beginning to look and wonder why such things like spoons exist, Bart sometimes just went looking somewhere, and nothing at the same time. That stare remained on his life as much as you...
…
Tortoise - Djed
…
Dan is wearing that same outfit given to the Royal guards.
Despite the title, these soldiers can be found everywhere, and anyone can listen easily in the army. The King shares his personal guard, but with the title given to people such as Dan, they all seem to be that important and close to such a thing as royalty. I mean, they are important, because only a few are meant to become Dragoons. This is if you have enough money, which I do have, yet mom and dad decided to live in the countryside all along.
Only a few move to this half of Burmecia, where I and Dan are heading to. He is currently off duty, but that doesn't mean he is no longer able to help people. Many call this part of the kingdom by city, and that's fine for most of us. There is no official name for that place, as much as there isn't a crest for the flag. Only the Dragoons share a crest, and only Burmecia shares the same Dragoons.
We walk together into the same street, following different paths. I see that he is also taking care of one of his and Learie's sons. So, that's little Jack? He can barely look at anything, but I see that he is struggling to. And then, Jack falls asleep. This place quite feels like another, when compared to the countryside. It's still part of Burmecia, but I do not live here, unlike Dan, or that other Jack.
My brother is somewhere within these buildings, which do not have the shape of bells, only in the vaults found inside, like the ones belonging to the church. I only went there once, when my father was gone. He wasn't even there, neither was my mind when playing outside. People can pray to Bahamut anywhere, but food can only be purchased here, in the market district. Same can be prepared by some kind neighbor, but it's easier to carry on money than any friendship.
Across my way through the main city once again, I stumbled across a kid, a rather odd one. Skin brown as a caramel, he is wearing rags assembled into clothes, each piece sewed onto another, leather and just rags. He wore a carpet bent with another unrelated piece of cloth. There are no holes, except the one made for his neck, arms and legs. The kid's fingers looked as if they were about to melt, just like that large and lumpy tail, but I saw an apple being holded by him, until he put it inside the mouth, chomping it in a single bite.
He doesn't look hungry enough to do it, but he did anyway, even with the backpack behind his. Yet, these are only small details, in regards to the feature that striked me at the first sight I gave to the boy, so he did with his own eyes. Beneath the hat with the shape of an acorn or shiitake, next to his flaccid dog ears, what was once a stare became a glance of eyes that resembled those belonging to the fish.
These laid above the counter of a near fair, unlike the kid who stood like me and Dan on the same street. I mean, the boy could blink, but the way he kept staring at us... He looked dead. Frightened, perhaps. The way that eye seemingly popped out of his...
— What are ye lookin' at? – This until he said it. He had no claws to scratch me. Neither on his hands, or on his feet. But he can talk... It wasn't enough for him.
— Hey! Ye up there, shrimp! Ain't ay nothin' for ya!? – And then he came near us, with his tail being dragged like a worm out of the ground. The gaiters on his feet weren't even gaiters, but red socks tore like the tattered clothes worn by him. At least, he wears something.
— Is there any problem with paying attention to where we step upon? – I asked him.
I do not know anything about this boy, except that he sounds a bit mischievous. He looks like that too, but I can't trust the first sight taken forever. In the same way, I can't begin with the left foot, but I did it anyway. So many times that a bluff sounded as if I was on the top, no matter how silly it was. Now, what remains silly is that I do it again, from time to time.
— Nah, there isn't none... Hey! Hauld yer horses a minute! Ay ain't that small of a stane for ye to almost trip over!
— Then you are the least of my concerns, kid. – I said, putting him aside, avoiding looking at him, but I couldn't.
He was still in the middle of the way, and no matter how much we deviated from him, the boy always seemed to get in front of me. A kind of invisible force that keeps pulling me backwards. I look down, and there he is.
— Ay dinnae know ye, shrimp! – Then, he put that index of his inside the nose. As if he didn't cared for what he said, the boy doesn't seem to care about his hygiene as well – But ambition makes ye look pretty ugly, by th' wey.
The way this kid threatened me was far more funny than a threat is meant to be, yet I didn't shed any smile. At least, he really tried to be harsh, even when showing those little claws.
— Excuse me, but do you know what you're saying, kid? To whom you are saying it? – I may not be a Dragoon yet, but I don't tolerate any lack of respect. What an inconsiderate fool.
To leave him behind, while wearing this armor that doesn't even belong to me... No wonder why the kid seems so pissed, to be treated like this by someone who isn't even a Dragoon Knight properly. A Knight wouldn't treat any person in this way, though I'm still able to ignore him. The boy does the same as well, eating an apple taken out of that backpack.
— MUNCH!... Ye should be canny, or else, ay wull make another air hole in ye neck... CHOMP! – These were the last words I heard from him, before I left from a distance.
— Do not strain yourself, Freya. He is just a bored kid. – Said my cousin. The boy didn't say anything to Dan, although the same somehow knew about him.
Dan knew many people as he served the role of a Royal Guard, a sort of Dragoon Knight that only carries on a sword inside the sheath. They all wear this same light blue outfit, like we all wear an orange ribbon. That boy had none, yet he is a Burmecian too. I don't have the kind of people that needs far more protection than any other group. That's what I should know, for once. I may serve the King later on, like Dan does, but not everyone can afford its wealth, like that kid.
He may be a thief, but he only stole my attention instead of my patience. He may have stolen that same apple, but who else was there to see and witness it other than the sneaky one?
Kids... The true owners of the world.
...
...I heard knocks on the front door, and as usual, I didn't expect it. Otterley went upstairs to see my son Jack, lying on bed, burning with fever. He went alongside Dan to find some Basilisks. Near the marshes, seeing those red spots all over his skin. Jack already caught chickenpox once, but fleas can bite anyone, no matter the age. He keeps scratching his skin, even after I told him not to. It ain't useful to say no to a child, or someone ill. They always complain...
...I already gave Jack two cold baths, which only brought a short relief for him. The door opened and then I saw Otterley, the same nursemaid who showed up at the labour of my two kids. She brought some aloe vera leaves on a basket, after hearing about Jack's condition. A Dragoon Knight that can't even cast the healing skills learnt within the years on those you love mostly...
...There are some wounds that can be treated fine, like small cuts made on a skin. Scars can still be found on my back, and when I am able to touch them, it is as if I could read my own history. There are the family recipes, but never that I would allow these kinds of medicine to be swallowed by any of their mouths. Not yet…
…At this age, they can't be put in a deep slumber. Besides, the kids here kinda like Otterley's presence. They don't tolerate her because I ordered them to, but they just like her. I already asked for Otterley to take care of Jack and Freya when I am out, unlike now...
...My little dear came near me and asked if we could spar together in the garden. What else could I say? I mean, I was tired, so did my head, aching a bit even until now, but I don't care. These are poor excuses for someone who already witnessed so many of them. Father is gone, but that ain't an excuse for nothing. Duty calls, now that's an excuse that still works, because none of us cry afterwards...
...Freya is faster than me, and from a single gap of the front door opened by me, she is already outside, waiting, and just waiting until I can open the basement door to find our weapons. That was a rare opportunity for us to be there, at the same time, at the same place…
…I remember the first day I sparred with my daughter. I explained to her that we would use the broomsticks instead of any sharp javelins. Why is javelin sharp, Freya asked. I said that javelins need to be sharp because they are made to stab deep within the dragon's scales...
…"Why stab dragon?" All that I could say was that they needed to be stabbed before they ate people…
…Why do dragon eat people?" Because all they want is to eat, they don't think my dear…
…"I am hungry mom. I want to eat tomato 'cause dad liked it…"
…Freya may have got tired of walking with her own feet, bored of sparring with the same stick, but if there is one thing that some kids at this age don't get tired of is that they are far more honest than those who take care of them. Only a few words are enough...
...
A bell rings. The front gates open. They are wider than my sight, taller than my height.
How much I wished anything could be done with a single step into this place.
As soon as I blink again, we are inside the Jugend, a city within a city. The legendary academy that brought many ordinary figures into Dragoon Knights. There are the rich sons too, but it's hard to distinguish who is who, since you need to afford a lot of money to get into this place.
According to Dan, the payment is done monthly, but first you need to pay in order to register your name as a Dragoon Knight, then you start as a grunt, but that doesn't prevent me from attending any kind of mission.
Once a Dragoon Knight, always a Dragoon Knight. It's better follow of this motto than giving up of this job, since only a time later that you begin to be paid instead of paying them to be remembered later on, but you can still pay this institution if you care about charity, because nobody manufactures spears, clothes, shields, helmets, anything made in quantity for free.
Aqueducts of water run beneath our heads. They are filled in by the water of the rain, but that doesn't mean this stream of water is any cleaner than the one coming down the mountains. It needs to be boiled, as usual. That's why many Burmecians drink tea or chai instead of any water. Others prefer to taste a mug of beer.
I never drank any of these, not because I'm not allowed to, but because it sucks, tastes bad. It smells bad, but given that some of these are already drunk, it doesn't matter. Once I drank wine, thinking it was grape juice, and my head began to twist. It was so cold, bitter, yet it had a charm. Anything mom prepared had some, even when it was a mistake. She committed them, but who doesn't? At least, she learned something, so did I.
Under the sparring seasons, I never saw her using any Dragoon techniques other than the way of carrying a spear. Not that she wasn't able to summon Reis's Wind to treat some wounds left on us, but like everything that exists, it had a cost. No wonder why mom always came back home tired like that.
Bandages are better to hide the cuts left on the skin, because a harmed body can be treated fine, unlike the soul. From where she took all of that energy… I only know where mom discharged it all.
This street I'm stepping into may have been a place where she fought against an Ironite, and what about that square? She stood upon these rooftops, watching the people walk like ants. Not only Dragoon Knights work here, so do the window cleaners, so if you give up you still have the opportunity of working on a risky job, but they don't pay that much for these cleaners as they will do if you are a good Knight. At least, you are able to live there, at an additional cost that's enough for someone such as me to afford, though this place may share a nice view for someone up there.
It'll be easy to reach the top of these buildings as soon as I learn how to jump like a Dragoon...
