Broken Tower Saga: The First Swordsman

The young captain Das apologised a dozen more times and until Wrik told him a couple of times, he would not complain about it anywhere did the young man let go of him. He was already tearing up and from that Wrik could guess the consequences would be dire if it was reported in to the higher ups. 

On another note, a Mahasayer did not lose out to nobility and a normal captain offending a noble would only go one way.

"If you do not leave immediately, I might have to consider reporting you to the higher-ups." In the end, Wrik threatened the captain until they left them.

Wrik finally looked at the cloaked figure and said, "What are you trying to do here, Byul?"

Abruptly, Wrik's eyes narrowed, and his face tensed up. The one in the cloak was not Byul who he was following, but another girl of the same size and might be younger. She had similar short hair, but the continence did not have that much resemblance to the girl he was following. 

"Who are you?" Wrik asked, raising an eyebrow. He might have mismatched her during the crowds on the market and followed her.

"Who are you?" The girl asked the same question too. "Why did you follow me here?"

Wrik considered her for a while. She was small like Byul, but the accent was similar though that was probably because they lived in the same location.

"This is a mistake," Wrik said, sighing. 

"Are you going to give me back to those soldiers?" the girl asked, quivering a little. She looked around, probably considering the chances of success of fleeing from a mahasayer. In the end, she gave up recalling the scene when she saw the man before unmatching a dozen soldiers alone and her facial expression turned pale too.

"Relax," Wrik said to the little girl who might be fifteen or sixteen. He looked around and only noticed a few soldiers around. They flinched a little when their gazes mate. They worked up as if they knew nothing and got busy with their work. "What's your name?" 

"Saras," the girl said, her eyes were teary. 

Wrik could tell it was fake, but he said nothing. In his mind, he imagined what this girl had to go through to become like this. "Well, Saras," he said. "What are you doing here?" 

"I am. .. I was looking for my friends and then sensed someone was following me so I ran crazily." 

'Lies,' Wrik thought. 'But she uses it like me. Hiding the black within the white—the rule of thumb about lying.' That was why he was so good at finding if someone was lying or not. After all, he had already mastered the art in somewhat fashion. 

"It looks like you will get into more trouble if you search for your friends more. Let's move away from here." 

Saras sighed inwardly and followed the tall man with a little hesitation. The tall man seemed to ponder which way he should go, inside the dome or the outside. After considering a little time, he chose the outside. He asked her, "Where do you live?"

Saras did not answer and pointed in a far direction with a finger. 

"Let's go then, I'll send you there."

"No," she snapped. "Sir, I can go alone and the place is not for someone like you to vent—"

"Shut up and show me the path," Wrik cut her short. It did not look good to berate kids, but it's the only way he could save time and his words.

Saras shook a little, but she followed the instruction and put her legs to work. Her walk was slow and straight, moving towards the outside. 

Wrik followed, and his scrutinising gaze pierced all the directions. The further they went, the more disorganised the things started to turn. There were few tall buildings here and there, but none of them was anything majestic compared to the one inside the great wall. Though their structures were the same, the stones and contents they were made of were different and far lower quality, and after they crossed them, there were no buildings and the area mostly appeared like a slum. 

The disoriented smell came into his nose and he saw trash here and there. There are many types of homes here—some were made out of woods, some were barely tent put together. There were few destroyed building structures here and there and there were few people staring at the two of them moving. Their eyes seemed to glitter, noticing them, though they avoided eye contact. 

Wrik had seen a few beggars on the way, lining in rows. Some were disfigured, some seemed to have lost a couple of their limbs. Most of them were maltreated, and worse, there were many disfigured children among them. They called him, the moment they saw his appearance, making noises with their bowl or whatever they have.

Wrik felt something welling up inside and it was not a pleasant feeling. He had no tinz with him—all that was left off at Elania. All he had was digital currency and those things he could not even give to them.

"Do not look at them." A voice entered his ears, but he could not hear it clearly with all the thoughts. 

"I'm sorry," he said. 

"I said, '' Do not look at them," Saras said. "Pretend that you saw nothing." 

Saras walked past the beggars as if she had seen nothing. If it was pretending, then she was quite good at it.

Wrik said nothing to that little girl. Perhaps he could not say anything after that and moreover, his attention was caught by a few people that been following him for a while now.

"How far away was your home from here?" he asked.

"It's still a few kilometres away," Saras answered. 

Wrik looked at her for a second. "You can go alone now," he said. "And be careful about your ways."

The short girl looked at him and nodded. The next moment, she rushed out from there.

Wrik watched her go and moved as well, not caring about the people that were following him. He showed them a few types of gestures that he was more than anything they could handle together. And even if they still come after him, all he could do was beat them reluctantly.

He had come after Byul, and in the end, he was lost in a slum. Fortunately, even with his habit of messing up directions, he could return as the high wall could be located from anywhere. 

With a thought, Wrik climbed an abandoned building. It was about five or six-metre tall and when he was on the top of it, he could see the slum more clearly. Wherever his eyes go, there was a similar structure. Well, there were few goodly built buildings but it would not even hold 1% population here. Now he could guess what Ryat meant by those words when he came to meet him. 

The only comforting thing here seemed to be the yellow sun hovering in the south horizon, dyeing the city with its warmth.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" a voice said from about ten yards away from him. 

Wrik looked back and saw a man leaning against the sidewall. His body was covered with a long shawl, and probably was sleeping here. He stood up and as if all the pent up fatigue washed away from him. The man was quite tall—about half-head taller than him, with an angular face. His face was shaven, but the hair was a mess. Other than the simple clothes he was wearing, there was a lute in his arm.

An old one—ancient would be the right word to say. A lute-like should be left at home for decoration, but somehow it seemed to complement the lanky man. 

Wrik felt some uncanny feeling about this man. He could not put where, but his senses were alert. On another note, he could not put a number on this man's age. He seemed to be in his prime, but the way he presented himself was way older.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" the man repeated, coming closer. He looked at the sun and at him. "The sun, I mean," he said and looked at the sun again. "It appeared too beautiful to be true."

Wrik raised his eyebrow and examined the man from head to toe. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Someone like you who lost his way and ended up here," the man said, still looking at the sun.

The man talked in quite cryptically, but his voice was deep, like he had practised this way for years. On the second note, the lute showed he was an artist. 

"Well, I am out of here," the man said again. "See you again if fate permits lost friend." 

The man strolled away after that and Wrik found himself still staring at where the man had vanished.

______________

End of the chapter: Lost.

Next Chapter: Invitation.

Things will get a little busy from next chapter.