"How dare you" Mike asked pointing the dagger at Parish, "insult my fiancé? Zed was always right! You are selfish. You only think about yourself. Following you was the biggest mistake I've ever committed. I should have listened to…"
"Don't be a fool Mike. Zed's father wanted you dead. He won't hesitate to kill you if he gets his hands on you."
"I better die in his hands than in the middle of nowhere, where I'm treated like food. Don't stop me Parish!" He said, throwing the dagger on the sand before he began walking away. Deep down, he was wishing Parish would stop him or come after him, but sadly he didn't. Clenching his fists even harder, he slithered away faster, his belly grinding with the freaking hot sand.
"Wouldn't you stop him?" The leader asked. He had watched the whole scenario in silence and had to admit the two were great friends.
"Let's go," Parish said ignoring his question. He grabbed him by the collar harshly staring deep into his slightly red eyes. "Try something stupid and I won't hesitate to kill you!" The leader nodded, his heart beating close to his ears. That was the most menacing look he had ever gotten from a boy. Parish looked too young for his strength.
"Understood…My Lord," he added. Parish released his collar and collected the dagger on the ground. The leader nervously eyed as Parish ran his fingers on its edge. He squared his shoulders, holding his still hurting stomach with the other hand.
"Please don't throw it away. It is special to me," he said smoothening his brownish hair that looked disheveled.
Parish looked at him before he stared at the direction Mike had headed to. "What lays ahead?" He was still concerned about Mike's safety. He acted foolish on a land where he was viewed as heaven's ambrosia. He would die even before the sun could set.
"That," the leader said pointing at the distant hills. "Beyond those hills lies the infamous Gretia Academy." Parish narrowed his gaze at that. Academies? Did that mean they were in the middle of the human continent, Humbria? They had gone that far? Oh Lord no! And Mike had just taken himself to hell's gates.
"We need to save him before it's too late!" He started walking without noticing that the leader stood still on the same point. Upon sensing the guy was not following him, Parish halted in his tracks, turning around to face him.
"What is it?" He asked, creasing his brows due to both the scorching sun and the annoying guy.
"I'm sorry my Lord but our race is banned from going near the city." City? Parish furrowed his brows. All he could see was a mass of sand and this guy was talking of a city?
"Is that so? But you aren't banned from showing me the way, are you?" He asked. Parish could see the hesitance on his face as he contemplated on what to tell him. Maybe he had forgotten in whose hands his life and independence were in. A little scaring would do. He dropped the dagger intentionally on the sand.
"Oops! It's itching to cut on something," he said, squatting to collect it, all the while, his gaze never leaving the leader's. He could see his Adam's apple pop up and down.
"I'll take you but I can never cross to the human realm," he gave in. Humans had drew clear borders between them and the leaders kind. If he was caught breaking this rule, his kind would be in danger. They were only allowed to visit the realm if they had something important to share, that they had spotted in the desert. They were paid handsomely for their information.
"What's your name?" Parish asked, surprising the leader.
"Hazog My Lord." Parish simply nodded before he started walking. Hazog took the cue and followed him closely behind. His stomach was still hurting but he managed to walk anyways. It was still a mystery to him how a simple blow would affect him that much.
"How does these academies work?" Parish asked as they continued their way down the hilly sand.
"Not much is known about that. But I have some information about it. The academies are scattered all over the continent but each is unique in its own way. Like Gretia for example. The academy is home to the novice humans who are between level one to three."
"Level?" Parish asked with furrowed brows. He didn't know humans had levels.
"Yes. The human society is divided into classes or levels. The higher the class you are in, the stronger you are." Parish was still confused by the whole class thing. A frown settled on his face as he tried to process the information he had just got.
"Can you explain how this classing works?" He enquired.
"There are ten classes of mages in total. The first class mages are the weakest while the tenth class mages are the strongest. But as far as I know, there is no tenth class mage that exists to date, only a few eighth class mages who are rare to come across with. These are treated like human gods!"
Parish simply nodded. So the humans had gods as well? This was interesting now.
"What about the other races? Are they admitted to the academies?" He enquired. Was that even possible? Humans hated the other races and regarded themselves as superior beings. Parish scoffed at the thought.
"Yes," Hazog said instantly making the smirk on Parish's face disappear. "But not just every other race. The elves who are closer to spirits and have very pure mana have the respect of humans. Due to an agreement signed between humans and elves, an elf inarguably joined the senior council and lobbied for elves inclusion in the academies, I do not know much information but I heard his contracted spirit is a Salamander, a powerful one at that. Demi humans have also started joining and with their unmatched strength and agility, they mostly join adventurer teams and guilds as tanks. But they are .... not treated very well and the least earning."
The information Parish had gotten would help him while in the human city. He narrowed his gaze at the distant hills, a flicker of hope shining in his eyes.
Author's Words:
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