"Hmmm. I think book is always written by the writers who knows its way around that particular knowledge. Not just some random onset to write something. They are pioneers of literacy. They gave me so much knowledge outside of the village," El stated.
…
The man raised his eyebrows, then yielded under the stubborn – unwavering gaze of El.
"Alright, alright. You're right. Just don't regret it later," he conceded, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"Hummpphhh…" El replied.
"Tch, you kid. Started getting comfortable with me, aren't you?" remarked the man with the edge of his lips raised into a teasing smile.
"I'm always comfortable with you, sir," El replied earnestly.
"Anyway, I'm leaving."
"Now???" El's voice plainly betrayed his reluctance to part ways, as he no longer bothered to even hide his disappointments. The man had already become an integral part of his life in just one day, and there was a sadness at the edge of his throat, hanging at the inside of it, knowing he would be away for days.
On the other hand, seeing El's eyes glistening under the candlelight, the man looked away, tightening his gaze to avoid being swayed by El's vague yet clear hopes for him to stay.
"Yes, don't go when it's dark outside. And arrived home before the day reached evening, or I won't guarantee you will be safe by then," he said, changing the topic. As he then paused, a thoughtful frown creasing on his brows. "Hmmmmhh, now that I think about it, we don't have a clock or any wristwatch, aren't we?"
"There's one in the plaza," El said calmly, with his expression returning to normal like a facade of masks, hiding his despondency.
Recalling their earlier stroll through the night market, the vibrant stalls and the enticing aromas still fresh in his mind, El continued his string of words. "I'll just check on that big clock then."
The man reached into his pocket, once again, retrieving a small bag. From within, he produced a golden coin, its surface gleaming in the dim light as he tried to pressed it into El's palm.
"Mister, I don't think I need this," El protested as he instinctively putting his palms forward, refusing to received it.
"Well, just use it to buy a small watch at the market. You'll find the shop near the intersection where we went to the market that evening. I know for sure you already remembered the way, right?" the man insisted, pulling El's hands forcefully, then firmly placing the coin in the latter's hand.
"Uh…"
"Just take it boy. Your safety now is in my hand…"
"… alright… wait, what do you mean by my safety is in your hand?" El asked, curiosity mixed with the perplexity.
"Nothing. Anyway, I'm leaving. Don't go out of your door when it is already night. To be more specific, make sure you are back home before it's five o'clock in the evening, understood???" the man's tone was serious, his sight locking onto El's eyes with an intensity that brooked no argument.
"Okay. Understood…" El replied briefly.
With a final glance, the man turned away and opened the door. Just as he did so, a sudden breeze swept into the room, carrying with it an unfamiliar chill that sent a shiver down El's spine. It was a coldness unlike anything he had ever experienced, stirring memories of a strange sensation from a dream he long forgotten.
The breeze danced through the room, then retreated swiftly as if it had come only to deliver a message. Or maybe, 'come and go' just to bring something with it. El watched quietly as the shadows within the room stilled, their restless movement somehow ceasing with the wind's departure.
After closing the door, the man engaged in an unseen action outside, as a faint sound reaching El's ears – resembling the brushing of something against door's surface
And then, silence enveloped the room.
El, feeling the weight of the moment settle around him, subsequently crawled back to his bed. He closed his eyes, allowing the worries of the day to fade into the background. This time, sleep claimed him swiftly, enveloping him in its embrace until the morning light of the next day broke the horizon.
*
*
*
As dawn breaks in the gentle embrace of morning light, the sky above stretches wide and clear, painted in soft hues of blue. The air was filled with the cheerful chirping of birds as their songs take flight – their melodies weaving through the gentle rustle of leaves. People stroll along on the pathways in the city, with some briskly heading to a work; while others, including a few elderly souls, taking a leisurely walk, savoring the crisp morning air as they engage in light exercise.
Subsequently, the scene gradually shifts, zooming into a quaint alleyway where a small, one-story wooden house stands. Its weathered exterior adorned with patches of peeling paint and tattered shingles. Meanwhile, El was currently located at his room, sits at the wooden chair where he was now absorbed in his writing. The soft creak of the chair accompanies his focused movements, while scattered books lies in the table, with their pages fluttering open. Sunlight filters through a nearby window, casting gentle shadows that dance across this space, illuminating the cozy yet slightly messy room.
Stopping his hand in the middle of his motion, El leaned back in his chair, along with a weary sigh that escaping his lips. He tucked his pen behind his ear and gazed up at the ceiling, where a jagged claw mark marred the plaster – it was a silent trespasser that had taken up residence here without so much as an apology or a thought to pay its dues.
"Sigh, it's not like I'm also paying the bill myself," he muttered under his breath, a hint of irony lacing his words.
"Wonder if I started to going crazy, or I just miss the man."
It had been a week since 'that man' had vanished into the night, leaving El here to navigate the solitude of this house alone.
Yet, fortune seems to be smiling kindly upon him – if he were to say it, as his frugality had served him a really well example this time; for how a poor kid like him managed home financials. The bag of 'silver ryton' gifted by the man that night still brimmed with coins, more than half untouched, with only a few silvers spent over the past seven days.
In stark contrast to his days of hunger in the village, where every meal was a real struggle between life and death, the simple act of eating in moderation felt like a luxury and so much of a bliss in itself. Even the cheapest bread in the city was a 'gracious revelation' with how delicious it was – compared to the tree bark, grass, and sun-dried innards of trees that had once constituted his daily meal. And the best fare from all of it in the village was; wheat stalks – often devoid of grain, which was now seemed to be a distant memory to him.
'It tastes weird too,' El thought, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Him and one other last kid in village was always had 'a rough dust-up' over those stalks as they could made them fuller for a whole day than the other foods. He never knew until he was here – living in the city, that those 'things' were not even considered food at all.
Though he indeed admits he sometimes really wanted to eat until his stomach was about to burst, just like when he ate with that man. He reasons that, this was something only those who had been on the brink of death due to starvation will understand.
With a deliberate motion, he removed the pen from behind his ear and closed the notebook filled with his thoughts. He tidied the table and then set about organizing the entire room, each action was a kind of small ritual to reclaim his space.
And that – was a cool way to defend himself from leaving his bed strewn around like that. Well, he actually readily admits for being a messy guy, as he never once bothered to tidy up anything upon waking up – since there was essentially nothing where he used to sleep before.
"Alright, time to go!" he said after completing the 'rare tidying' up that took half an hour.
Taking his gray jacket from the top rail of the chair, rummaging through the pocket and extracting the wristwatch with the steel chain, then peering at it, El nodded to himself. 'Just at the right time. I have a good feeling today that the uncle at the bakery will give me another discount,' he thought, with an expectant smile hanging on his lips.
This time though, he decides to venture outside, as he already resolved to visit the restaurant once more. For the past few days, his routine had 'on and on' revolved around reading, writing, and wandering the streets of Mirthwater City. He kept his explorations close to home though, as he still being mindful of the man's advice to return before the sun dipped below the horizon at five o'clock.
…
And this – was where everything truly began for him.
…