"Azrael... Azrael! Get up!" a voice calls out.
I rise from my bed, which I'd consider more of a floor rug than a bed. It's made up of layers of depressed, squishy leather and covered by cloth, but most importantly, barely long enough to fit me. I put on my soft and elastic shoes before treading onto the creaky wooden floor, with its scratches and chips. My room is claustrophobic, located in the attic of my uncle's shop, and smells of burnt ash. There I see my uncle, who is standing at the entrance to the stairway.
"Boy, I don't like scolding you, but you seriously need to wake up early, after all, sleep doesn't pay well." He said, in his thin yet gruff voice, typical of a shorter-statured elderly man.
"Yeah Uncle Viros, I got that," I responded with a rather indifferent sigh.
When one inhabits a "commoner village", such as mine, San Cancorda, the highest of concerns are "what pays well and what doesn't". It is what young people like me are occupied with since schooling is only for the elite. That all being said, I value earning a good day's meal, so I saw to it that I went down the stairs, and stood in front of my uncle in his open L shape shop, which, despite its minuscule perimeter, still is packed with goods of our craft, being leather. My uncle was the chief craftsman/manufacturer, while I was the hunter and salesman. It's safe to say that we made a dynamic duo.
"Uncle, I await instructions," I said. I have been working here since I turned 18 this year, so. I'm still new to the trade. I was raised a strong man by unc as he had combat experience with my parents, but that is all he said about them, apart from their kind nature and the fact that they were hot according to him.
"Yes, of course. Remember our friend, Marcos, the wealthy traveler? His servant, Ramsheim, stopped by this morning and gave me a tall order from the bloke, including shoes, a bag, a saddle, and a sheath, which means if you want both a meal and an income, you got to hunt extra today." He explained
"How many casualties are we talking about, Uncle?" I asked
"About 4 hefty ones," He replied
"I'll get it done," I concluded. I took the bow and arrow, and my small sword he had custom-made for me some years ago, and still holds up to this day. I made my way down the village street, with the sunlight carpeting the village in a golden shine, reflecting off of the shiny brick roofs of the blocky houses on my left and right, the cobbled road glimmering like a sea of studded diamonds. The whole village had an average desert village aesthetic to it, beige sandstone structures clumped together, and no striking hues. I walked past the alleyway where the orphan children used to play with me, but they all went with their own families, and I never got to see them again.
"Azrael! You think that hunting is an excuse to neglect your old friend!" Came to an energetic yet tender shout. At that moment, I thought "Well, seems not all of my friends deserted me."
"It's nice to see you too Sara," I said to the rather tall dark girl in rags approaching me. "Why are you in rags? Doesn't your family have money for clothes?" I asked her.
"Oh, about that, they kind of were nut cases, so I ran away. I've been living in a self-made tent on the outskirts." She replied.
"What? Well, why didn't you ask me for help, I would have taught them a lesson, and maybe even assisted you." I replied. I always found her the unfortunate one, and I did my best to cheer her up when we were kids.
"That's sweet but I can handle myself, don't be such an impulsive hothead buddy," She replied. "Oh well, You go hunting, and maybe if you're free we can spend some time, for old times' sake," Sara added.
"Sure thing!" I replied.
I then left her and she ran into the closest alleyway. I then made a few turns exited the village gate, and walked through the rocky desert for a good mile till I reached the great river, where sure enough, gruff cattle were grazing. These creatures were large, about the height of a normal human (around 5'8), and were hefty. I readied the bow and arrow and aimed from the ridge overlooking the river, and as I released the arrow, I released a breath and some boredom from my mundane life along with it all.
Some hours later, when it was nearly sundown, I dragged the 4 cattle to a nearby wagon to transport to the village. Along the way, I contemplated. I, when I was younger, did not want to hunt, or work in a leather shop, but instead wanted to be a Spirit Warper.
"What is a spirit warper?" You may ask. Spirit Warpers are special people with special powers that come from their souls, and it gives them abilities that most people cannot rival. They are essentially the mages from the fairy tale we read, minus the magic wands or staffs, etc. They can manipulate energy to do what suits them. However, to be one, you need sheer luck, and an awakening before maturity, which means I have missed my chance.
I was contemplating something my uncle told me a long time ago, before I was born, there was a great war in which he fought, dubbed, the Warped War. It was the war in which some evil warpers amassed an army to overthrow the kingdom, and the warpers split into the folds of good and evil.
I wondered what would have happened to me if I was one, and justified that if I was a warper, I'd have a risk of being consumed by power, and realized that with a mundane life, I avoided losing sanity. But upon arriving at sundown, I realized how even the status quo had its suffering.