The caravan entered the camp and immediately the atmosphere grew tense. A group of town guards stood gathered around Sid, who was holding court with his usual smug demeanor. The guards, loyal to Sid because of his influential family, hung on his every word. He was the son of the town mayor, after all, and he knew how to manipulate the system to his advantage.
"Alright, listen up," Sid spoke, his voice carrying through the small crowd. "We're going to make sure things go my way today. I've already spoken to the guards in charge of the registrations. We'll make sure that Pighead—" Sid gestured casually toward Nile, who was standing just out of earshot, "—gets his picture taken first, with that awful face of his. Let him squirm."
The guards chuckled, but Sid wasn't finished. "And if anyone tries to delay the process, we deal with them. We've got influence here, boys. We don't need to play by the rules." He gave the guards a knowing look. "When you're the son of the mayor, no one dares say no."
Nile, who had been listening from a distance, felt his stomach twist at the sound of Sid's voice. He knew what Sid was planning—he was using his power and position to humiliate him further. Nile had always known that people like Sid existed, but hearing the words spoken so openly sent a pang of resentment through him.
Sid's taunts and the way he manipulated those around him made it clear: the world was not kind to those without power. And Sid was a prime example of someone who used his position to crush anyone beneath him.
Nile, still processing the events unfolding around him, approached the registration area hesitantly. The guards were busy organizing the children and the families, ensuring that everyone's data was recorded. Nile's face still bore the marks of his earlier fight, and he felt self-conscious about it.
"I... I'd like to request something," Nile spoke, his voice slightly shaky. He had thought it through—he wanted to delay the recording, even if it was only by a day. He was still recovering from his injuries, and the idea of having his face immortalized in the town's records like this made him uncomfortable. "Can I delay my recording? I'd prefer to wait a day until I look... better."
One of the guards, a burly man with a hardened expression, glanced at Nile with little sympathy. "The registration process is done when it's done, kid. No exceptions."
Jessica, standing behind him, shook her head. "Don't waste your time, Nile," she said softly, her voice filled with a certain weariness. "It's pointless. The process is the same for everyone. It's just a photo, it'll be over before you know it."
Nile hesitated but nodded, reluctantly accepting the inevitability of the situation. Sid had already set the stage, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
It didn't take long before it was Nile's turn. The guard at the registration table signaled for him to step forward, and Nile did so reluctantly. He had no choice now. He stepped into the spotlight, his face still swollen from the earlier fight. The camera clicked, and the guard recorded his image without any acknowledgment of Nile's discomfort.
Sid, standing nearby, couldn't help but laugh at the sight. "Look at that! A pigheaded face if I ever saw one!" He taunted loudly, drawing the attention of the other children in the camp. Some of them snickered, while others looked away awkwardly, unsure of how to react.
Nile stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, enduring the mockery. He could feel the heat of the insults burning his cheeks, but he refused to let it show. Inside, his heart pounded with a mixture of humiliation and rage. He couldn't stand the fact that Sid, someone so arrogant and entitled, had the power to make him feel this small.
As the camera flashed and his face was immortalized in the records, Nile made a silent vow. He would grow stronger. He would train harder, push himself beyond his limits. And one day, he would be strong enough to visit the Protectorate City, the capital city island, to change the course of his life.
Nile swore to himself, amidst the laughter and the mocking whispers around him, that the weak version of himself—this helpless, embarrassed boy—would not be the same Nile who emerged from the fires of adversity. One day, he would walk with the same power and authority as Sid, and no one would dare mock him again.
The words of Sid's taunts echoed in his mind as he stood there, unmoving, with a steely resolve forming in his heart. This was just the beginning
As the caravan enters the town, Uncle James guides his carriage, taking a different route from the others. Jessica, being exempt from the entrance exam, does not need to stop at the registration area. The other merchants have already gone inside, their registrations complete.
Nile looks around in awe, taking in the bustling atmosphere of the town. Despite the excitement, his mind drifts to more practical matters. He recalls the address of Shakti's property—Frost's house cum shop in the town—and recites it to himself: Martial Market, Street 9, Shop 3.
With resolve, Nile turns to Uncle James, "Uncle, can we go to Martial Market, Street 9, Shop 3? It's Shakti's place."
James, nodding, agrees. As they move deeper into the town, Nile continues his questions, trying to gauge their current situation. "Uncle, do you have any place to stay here?"
James hesitates, giving a negative response. Nile then turns to his mother, "How much money do we have?"
Veena smiles at Nile, handing him a pouch. The moment Nile touches it, he feels a strange, almost magical sensation. His curiosity piqued, he asks, "What is this?"
Jessica, noticing his confusion, explains, "It's a storage pouch. Your mother was kind enough to erase her mark from it so you could bind it to yourself."
Nile, feeling both eager and uncertain, follows the instructions he absorbed from the information packets earlier. He pricks his finger, using his blood to bind the pouch. To his surprise, he finds an ample amount of copper and silver coins—along with a stack of 20 gold coins—filling the 2x2x2 feet³ space.
Nile stares at the contents, stunned by the amount. He looks up at Veena, who reassures him with a gentle smile. "Now, you're the head of this family. You can decide how we use this."
Nile feels a surge of responsibility but also a sense of pride. He pockets the pouch, ready for whatever comes next.