Once again, I was in the outside world.
It was a lot different when you weren't rushing around from place to place, never picking up the details of where you were going. As I walked out of Mayer's home, small things started to catch my eye. The grass on the side of the road was a darker green than I was used to, the dirt darker still. The roads were well worn, obvious prints where horses—or whatever the equivalent was—had trodden through the damp dirt. It must have rained the night before as I was sleeping, as I could see small pockets of water trapped in the dirt—the bright sun reflecting off of them.
It was such a sensory difference from the city that I had lived in my entire life.
Extremely rustic, unclean, uncivilised to a point. All of these things should have me screwing up my nose like a spoilt noble, but something about it had a feeling that I couldn't quite describe in a word.
It was that feeling of life, of simplicity and effectiveness above all else. As I walked down the street, towards the small collection of storefronts, I took a better look at the houses that lined the streets. The people that owned these houses were most likely the same people that own the stores, being so close to the middle of town. The people who own farms live on them, so I couldn't be entirely sure if I was judging this place correctly. But I feel like my initial reaction to the homes had been rather ruthless.
They were ramshackle, sure—that much was obvious. But they were exceptionally clean and well maintained. Their houses spoke of their unfortunate financial status, but its cleanliness spoke of their pride, in a way.
I had never been in a tough spot financially, something I am eternally grateful for, but I have been in tough spots in other ways. I know that sometimes it is all too easy to just give in, allow it to take over everything and leave you bare.
I examined each house individually as I passed them. They were all built wildly different from each other, assumedly to the needs of the owner. It was obvious that many houses have had sections added, possibly to accommodate new editions to the family. Many of the editions to the houses were made using slightly different wood. A glaringly tell-tale, but they were usually more neatly built than the original home. It seems that progress was being made at a pretty rapid pace. These homes couldn't be anything more than five to ten years old—but in that time, they have progressed that far.
I thought back to Mayer's home, trying to place if it had been built using this new wood or technique. Looking at the editions to the homes, it was clear that even they had issues. Some of the boards were slightly misaligned, and no house had glass, not like Mayer's had.
Mayer's house was testament to how different he was from the rest of the people who lived here. His home was absolutely immaculate, well cleaned, well built. I could only assume that the house was fair bit more advanced on the inside as well. The house even seemed to have plumbing, complete with a sink, even. I don't know if it was magic—or shifting, rather—that powered it, but it sure seemed like it. I don't know how you would even get the infrastructure out here to have plumbing.
I walked down the road, speeding up a bit after a few minutes of slow walking. My body protested against me, pain running down my sides and legs, but I ignored it. Now that I knew that Champions possessed an inexhaustible body, I wasn't about to waste it by acting exactly like a normal person. I knew that it wasn't going to feel any good, but I knew myself. That means that I also know that if I didn't force myself to take advantage of my body now... then I would pay for it later, possibly gruesomely.
I stood up straight, a big difference between my normally slouching form. To be perfectly honest, I had always been somewhat conscious of my height. Where I lived, I was—for the most part—the tallest person in the room. A head taller most of the time. When I was younger, I was good at sport because of it. But slouching came naturally, in a way—helped me fit in a little bit more than I did with a world not exactly built for someone my height. Admittedly, I didn't fit in all that well socially either, but I managed to get by—finding some friends along the way. But standing too much taller than other people wasn't really of interest to me back then. Physicality wasn't something that I overly respected, past the initial, 'Wow that person is tall!' factor.
But here I was different—no, I had to be different. I was a Champion, after all.
So, I stood up bolt straight—a tiring position to walk in, something that was usually trained over a long period of time. But I had to start somewhere, and this was where I was starting. Although I was walking faster than before, I was still walking at a leisurely pace. I wasn't in any rush, but I didn't want to look like silly when walking down the road.
It took quite a while for standing straight to feel even the least bit natural. It was probably going to take tens of hours walking like that to really get into the groove of it. I had caught myself slouching four or five times now already, and it had only been thirty odd minutes since I had left Mayer's place.
The walk into town was deceptively long. On the first night that I had come here, this walk had only seemed to have lasted a few minutes at most. Probably because I was walking a whole lot faster than I was now, but also because I was scared out of my mind.
But I managed to get there all the same. I'd say it was about forty minutes of walking altogether. Mayer lived on the other side of town than where any of the stores were, or even where he had found me—running from whatever that massive creature was.
There were a lot of questions that I would like to ask the man, but I knew that if I started asking, I'd never stop. I don't think I would ever be able to get things done if I did that. Maybe a smarter person would be asking every question that he could possibly think of. But personally, I think it would be pure self-indulgence.
I didn't need to know everything, not yet anyways. Someday I could ask all the questions I want, and I might even get answers for them. But my relationship with Mayer was hardly good enough to start asking questions like, "Why is it that you just so happened to be out on the other side of town when you found me?" So, I decided to leave well enough alone. Mayer undoubtably had his secrets—big and small—and I had no interest in digging them up.
I realised in my moment of thoughtfulness that I was slouching and stood up straight again. My back was already disagreeing with my decision, but I held firm, and my muscles complied—however reluctant. As I was properly straightening myself, I realised that there were sounds of feet dragging through the dirt near me.
I looked up and saw a young boy, who looked twelve or so years old walk past me, looking up at me as if he were trying to remember if he knew my face. I looked at him for a long moment, examining his clothes. They were dirty, torn and overall unkempt. His skin was pretty clean, but he wasn't able to hide a littering of bruises and other cuts and grazes all over his body. I thought for a moment, contemplating my next actions—before waving the boy over with a grin on my face that I hoped didn't look evil.
The young boy frowned at me, but slowly walked towards me—exuding hesitance. This kid was short, somewhere around five-and-a-bit foot. Which made the height difference quite stark. I would have said he was younger at a cursory glance, but he didn't have the same childishness on his face that younger children might have.
"Hello. How are you?" I said, trying to speak clearly, abandoning the slurring accent I grew up with—making me sound more British than Australian. He eyed me somewhat suspiciously, but didn't make any moves to approach me, or run away. A good start.
"I'm new around here—I'm thinking of introducing myself a little bit, just to say hello. Any idea where I should start?" The kid seemed somewhat shocked by this. I don't know what he was shocked by specifically, but he was all the same.
"Are you asking me?" The boy responded. I raised my eyebrow, pointedly looking around the barren road with no lack of emphasis.
"Anyone else around here that I could be talking to?" I said with a grin. The boy looked around dumbly before perking up a little bit. I'm not quite so sure why the boy was so surprised by this, but I carried on.
"Anywhere specific that you would recommend that I go? I need to at least make myself known, introduce myself somehow." I said, ponderously. The situation was a bit awkward; I know that Mayer had a reputation of sorts, but I wasn't exactly sure what that reputation was. People seemed to leave Mayer alone, and maybe quietly respected him—but I was hanging onto his coattails, no reputation of my own. I'd rather I wasn't seen as Mayer's kid, or something of the like. If I had a reputation of my own, getting around would be far easier, with the ice broken and all.
The boy um-ed and ah-ed for a moment before looking up at me with his quizzical eyes, shining from within a worn visage.
"Well, I guess that depends on who it is you want to meet." The boy said tentatively. He spoke clearly, with a strangely educated tone to his words—despite his appearance. I smiled, wouldn't hurt to treat the kid as if he weren't stupid. Not that I would have anyways.
Turns out, that was an excellent idea.
The boy quickly surmised that any of the farm folk—as he called them—were going to be in the midst of working. The other types of workers would be doing very much the same. However, those of a service industry would be working at the moment, meaning that you had the chance to go in and talk to them.
Initially, I had thought that I would go to the pub—or whatever they call it here—but the boy made a good point. Right now, anyone that was eating at the pub would likely either be eating before going on a day's work, or on the road. The rest would be drunkards from the night before. Not exactly the best company to have in the morning. Old hungover men.
"I suggest that you go into a few stores and buy something, chat a bit, y'know. If ya give a good impression, they talk all between themselves and such." I nodded, taking the boy's words seriously. It made good sense to me, I would leave going to the pub for later today, or tonight. Mayer did sort of infer that what he had given me was quite a fair bit of money around these parts, and so I would use it to the best of my abilities.
"Then it looks like I will need to go buy some things." I said, a grin still on my face—then I stopped to ponder for a moment before speaking again, "Do you have the time to drag me around town? I'm not quite so confident in my mental map. I could figure it out, but it would be a little more hassle that I would rather avoid." To be honest, I wonder how I sounded to the boy in that moment—a different accent and all, was it strange?
The boy looked conflicted at my request. He fidgeted his hands through his relatively long sandy blonde hair. Back on earth, he would look like an abuse case, but in this world, it could easily be just as much rough work as it could be abuse. He was slight, malnourished, and clearly at least a little sleep deprived. I don't know what part of town he was from, but it was nowhere good—that was for sure. So, it was then that I pulled out my trump card.
"What about..." I reached my hand into the pocket of my rough pants and pulled out one of the iron smah that Mayer had given me, "I'll give you some of this if you take me around town, and you can use it to buy whatever you want." I looked at him seriously, back straight as a nail. I always believed that if you wanted the best results from a child—or even teen—or to have them do something for you, you treat them seriously. As if they were an adult, even. Offer them a good incentive, and I think you will have your request done in no time.
The boy's eyes lit up at the coin that I pulled out of my pocket. I knew now that it was worth something, that was for sure—and this was definitely worth quite an amount to this kid. I had intentionally kept the exact amount that I would give vague. Especially because I was going to go around town buying stuff with the same money that I was theoretically going to give to the kid. If I oversold the amount that I would give, it would just backfire on me. No-one wanted to be extolled through a small town as a cheapskate who rips of children—certainly not me at least
"Do we have a deal…" I said, fishing for a name. I remained serious and solemn whilst I held my hand out for the boy to shake. He looked conflicted for a moment, looking back towards a part of town I haven't been yet. Before long he turned back around to me, his face filled with decisiveness.
"Rethi, my name is Rethi Orsen." He said as he took my hand firmly and shook it with an endearing clumsiness.
"Maximilian Avenforth." I replied happily.
Today was going to be interesting.