Twelve years have passed since my reincarnation on this godforsaken world, literally, and eight since I began to have full control over my own body. How many changes have occurred in my life during this time? Few. Not because I decided to laze around for a few more years, or decided to enjoy the childhood life I never had, no! it all basically comes down to my young age and my body, which can only develop so much at this time.
No one in their right mind would take a four-year-old seriously, and if they did, it would only be because they wanted to burn him at the stake, for unusual words and behavior that could be named, by only a brief glance of an uneducated villager, a possession by impure powers.
Therefore, I had to postpone almost seventy percent of my plans to a later date and focus on the next thirty. Thirty percent even more crucial than all the rest, namely on my own development, training in the force, learning various forms of lightsaber use and hand-to-hand combat. And a deeper examination of my own body, which will undergo a transformation that I could only fantasize about in the past.
Personal development was only the largest part of that thirty percent, but it did not fully fill it. Another thing I focused on was learning blacksmithing from my father, a side hustle that would provide me with support if things went overboard. The third part was building my own reputation in the local community and, if possible, outside it. For example, I planned to put a lot of effort into making sure that all the people living in Podgrodzie heard about me, how helpful I was, how smiley I always am and how nice I was everyone. Just a "golden child" who always does everything with others in mind, not themself.
This type of action is as important as formally learning to read, even though I already had the ability; or formal training in the Vizima city guard, even though I am secretly trained in sword fighting by one of the best duelists in a galaxy far, far away. My actions amounted to building a strong, solid story of childhood, adolescence and young adulthood that was not subject to any doubt and was known to many people. With all this, my future plans would have a strong tailwind in achieving my other future goals.
The warning shouts of the guards, alerting the inhabitants of the Trade Quarter that the gates of the entire city would soon be closed, tore me out of my reverie. I looked at the moon and quickened my pace, not wanting to get stuck inside, mortifying my father unnecessarily. "A perfect son can't do something like that." I giggled.
Passing the gates, I entered the bridge connecting Vizima with the outskirts, I headed towards the chapel, but I did not reach it. I turned East toward the fishing village, I wanted to cut across it, heading into the forest just behind the warehouses, so as not to make too much trouble going around. The forest wasn't too big, just a couple minutes' walk at a fast pace. Not that I'm afraid, excellent night vision and the power to tell me what's at least a few dozen meters away can give me confidence, even on the darkest night.
The full moon gently illuminated the sky, it was not dark, but the roads and the village were void of people. At this time of night, residents no longer leave their homes. They get drunk inside their own little walls or do other things. Therefore, the muffled sounds coming from the forest and the presence I felt coming from the direction I was heading towards alerted me and increased my blood pressure and rate of my heart. I immediately covered myself with a cloak of power, suppressing my presence and muting my footsteps to almost non-existent. One of the first skills Darth Sidious taught me, after lightning of course.
While hiding behind a thick oak tree, I saw two people wrestling with each other. A man and a teenager. I knew them, although only by sight and gossip, the man was a small-time hustler and thug, his name was Burt, and his teenage son, Haren Brogg. Despite his tall, though emaciated stature, probably due to frequent starvation, the teenager had an advantage over his better-fed father, who was slurring his words and staggering around almost dead drunk.
I don't know what's causing the fight between them, but I'm curious about its outcome. I lean discreetly against a tree, blending in with the surroundings, and follow the events with curiosity.
After less than ten minutes of struggling, gasping and wheezing with exhaustion, the teenager knocks down his father, who stops moving when he hits the ground. I can feel the life draining out of him. He hit his head on a rock, I realize in my mind.
''What a tragedy!'' I say to myself in my head, sarcastically.
I see Haren still standing on alert, staring at his own father, clenched fists, rapid, shallow breathing and one dominant thought: "Please! Don't get up anymore!" he is not yet aware that in less than a minute he will be a relative's killer unless someone magically appears out of thin air and treats Burt.
I'm still leaning against the tree and watching. Haren approached the dead man and checks if he is alive and then I start to feel it, fear! Fear! It began to flow out of him in waves. I savor this feeling, inhaling deeply as if that's where the most of it was.
Haren was one of my potential recruits for my cause. Apart from the fact that he is emaciated and weak, he has made a name for himself in the game. He had the balls to be a Havekar, doing business with not only the Squirrels but also the Salamander, though now I don't know if that was brave or stupid. I haven't planned on contacting him yet, but I can't think of a better time to make him one of my followers, to hold him tightly in my grasp!
I take off my cloak of power and move towards him, slowly but surely. I keep my hands behind my back, my body straight, I'm not in a hurry, my head is high. Even though I know he's about four years older, I tower over him in height, but it's not something so trivial that gives me unwavering confidence, knowing that I could tear him to shreds without even breaking a sweat.
''Hello, Haren.'' I say calmly.
Another wave of fear from his body releases in all directions as he realizes he has been spotted. It paralyzes him for a moment, but his survival instinct kicks in and snaps him out of his stupor, knowing that he will hang if anyone finds out what he has done.
I watch every little movement of his face, how it changes from second to second. With the powers and abilities of a super soldier, it's like watching a movie in slow motion and I'm in awe.
First fear, then numbness, in microseconds resolution, determination and immediately he will take action! Ahhh... now I want him even more, maybe that's why he managed to survive for so long, despite being abused by his father, suffering only from a stutter.
He runs towards me or has the intention to do so, because his exhausted body does not allow it. When he's less than a meter away from me, he swings his right hand, aiming his fist at my face. I catch it without any problem, then turn my body one hundred and eighty degrees and throw him over my right shoulder. I can see in his face that he hasn't realized yet that he's already floating in the air, and the inevitable impact with the ground will soon empty his lungs of the last oxygen.
I feel through the power that knocking him down took away all the will to put up any further resistance. He gave up. …waiting for the consequences of his own actions, he gave up. Now I know that this last spurt of the fight for survival was like the flame of a dying candle, it shines the brightest and then goes out.
He lays on his back, staring at me and inhaling hungrily. He was waiting on what I would decide.