Did he want to kill Mehch? Did he want to perform the same procedure on him? He didn’t know. All he knew was he grew more and more angry each sun-cycle and could only stuff all of these emotions down deep inside him. If he caught himself becoming too angry, he would run through his verb conjugations and vocabulary of Reahlic. Anos, to have. Sentas, to feel. Chakras, to dream.
Finally, Mother came in. He was mad at her, too. Why didn’t she come to visit him? Was she too busy eating? Esh took that thought back instantly and felt like ash for thinking it.
She did not look good, as if the life Esh received daily was donated directly from her. Black circles under her eyes, and… was that a bruise on her cheek? She limped over to his bedside, a limp that had never presented itself to Esh before. What was going on?
He was able to sit up by now and asked her what was happening.
“You don’t worry!” she yelled, making him jump. Her cheeks were red, but the softness returned to her eyes. She pulled up a seat next to him and they sat in silence. Her presence was so soothing that he began to cry. Mother tried to hold it in but could not. This was their therapy and, besides, crying indoors was a treat because tears outside would evaporate before they even left the lid.
She had only been in the room for a few minutes before Esh looked up from his bed to see Korp’s head peering through the door, his eyes wide in horror. As soon as Mother turned to see what Esh was looking at, Korp had changed back to normal and he entered.
Meyaderah… outside… please,” he said.
Mother rose slowly, her chin to her chest and she slumped out of the room. Korp closed the door slowly, staring at his favorite young one.
There was a loud smack and a cry of pain.
4 - Training
Life continued and so did Mother’s beatings. After Esh’s release from his cell, the other young boys had left him alone entirely. However, the struggle wasn’t over yet. Lying in bed for such a long period of time, often in his own excrement and urine, left his body covered in leaking sores.
The first thing Esh did was run to the nearest mirror to take off his filthy bandages. What he saw made him drop to his knees.
A large scar started at his left shoulder and crossed his entire body to his right hip. It was thick, shiny, and very soft to the touch. Esh did have to congratulate Mehch on his handiwork. He had created a masterpiece.
And yet, it wasn’t the scar on his chest that made him drop, but the two circular scars on each of his shoulders, exactly where the hooks had punctured him in the land of sin. It took a few seconds for his breath to return to him.
This couldn’t be possible. Maybe Mehch came back and added these accessories while he had been passed out. He hoped this was true.
His time at the orphanage did not change and everyone around him acted as if nothing had happened. Nothing at all. Esh didn’t have any scars and he, for sure, had not been opened up by a bone-blade for all the people of Reah to see his insides. Didn’t happen.
Esh no longer chased after the others, or tried to win their acceptance. He stuck to himself. The only thing he had to look forward to was the Choosing in which all fourteen-year-old boys and girls were given the position in life that would fit them physically and mentally.
He would become a soldier, yes! A soldier. He would show them all how tough he was, how worthy to be of the land of Reah. But how? He was eight years old, shorter than most of the other boys and was by far the weakest. Yet the eight-year-old boy pictured himself in the gigantic armor of the army of Reah, the Red sun gleaming off the metallic pauldrons. And no set of armor is complete without the large heavy sword all soldiers had strapped to their backs, ready to be unsheathed and swung into action. He pictured all the people clapping and cheering for him as he walked the streets, his purple hair completely forgotten.
He would have to train, and train hard. He would start this sun-cycle.
And Esh did train hard. During the unsupervised recesses, while the other boys and girls played, Esh was doing push-ups. He couldn’t even do one, so he figured he could do them on his knees… barely. One knee push-up turned to fifty, and one regular push-up transitioned to fifty.
On his ninth natal sun-cycle, Esh treated himself to trying to do a pull-up using one of the bars that clothes were hung over. Training would be his natal sun-cycle gift to himself. However, just like the push-up, he just hung there, his face scrunched with effort.
So he swung, and swung until he was able to swing his chin over the bar. After two weeks he was able to do a single pull-up. After a month he could do ten!
By age eleven, Esh made himself pick up every single heavy object he found. He would walk around the playground picking up all the heaviest stones he could, even picking up a few of the other smaller orphans as well. He kept up with his push-ups and his pull-ups.
Push-ups, pull-ups, and lifting heaving objects weren’t all but he would run and he would run fast! Orphans would watch him start at one end of the street where he would sprint back as fast as he could until his legs failed him. It came to a point that he was running so much that his lungs soon forgot all about needing protection from the ash in the air. Esh, himself, did not notice the change. It just so happened that one sun-cycle he had forgotten to don his mask. And since his lungs gave him no issues, he never thought to use it again.
Every moon-cycle Esh would crash onto his sweat-stained bed and fall asleep immediately. That was, until one moon-cycle upon falling onto his bed, his head hit something hard underneath the sheet. He tore the sheet off expecting to find a stone placed there by one of the orphans, but that wasn’t what he found. There, on his bed, was a brand new copy of Reahlic grammar. He instantly felt guilty. He had been slacking tremendously in his studies, sometimes not even showing up to class.
But wait, how did this book get here? He couldn’t think of anybody who had the money to buy such a shiny book, or even anyone that would do such a kind thing. That moon-cycle, when all the other orphans were asleep, Esh opened the book.
To his amazement, he did not find Reahlic grammar on the pages inside. No, what he found was instruction on the grammar of the language of the Green people. Vivreonish.
He couldn’t believe his eyes for his fake mother had told him all of these books had been put to fire. All knowledge of the other territories was forbidden and those who hid such pieces of information could face time in the prisons. What was even more interesting about this book was that the cover seemed to not have been altered, as if this book was made to deceive the eyes of others.
His bottom lip quivered and tears fell from his eyes. This was the best moon-cycle of his life. He opened the book and read, forgetting completely about the generous stranger and his fatigue.
Esh was now age fourteen, ready to be chosen, ready to become a soldier. He never quit his training and never gave himself rest unless he was ill. He began to steal, too.
When unsuspecting orphans were turned away, Esh would take their food and scarf it down. During moon-cycles, he would sneak into the pantry and eat until his heart was content. He was pretty sure his mother suspected him, but said nothing. He had become stronger and had even gone through a growth spurt. The only orphan that matched him in height was Mehch, who had become even fatter and lazier. Esh nearly laughed out loud when Mehch declared he was going to join the army and become a general. “Not with that belly,” Esh had thought to himself.
Esh would also pick fights, using them as practice. Bruises were the norm and he was soon feared just as much as hated.
He would have tried to pick a fight with Mehch, but the boy had always been under the protection of Korp. The orphanage headmaster left Esh alone. He had found his new toy. Mehch liked it.
Esh’s stolen food helped a lot with his growth, but he was still always fatigued due to the extra studying he was doing. He became top of his class once again and not just in Reahlic, but mathematics and history as well.
Mother became noticeably less attached to Esh, and
this hurt him so bad. Yet… he knew why. She brought him trouble and he brought her trouble. He knew Korp beat her and beat her hard. He would come back one sun-cycle and stop the man, no matter the cost.
5 - The Choosing
Esh sat with the other fourteen year olds under a metal roof held up by four tall poles. He looked down at the shoes he had spit shined earlier that morning to see that they were now smudged with soot. The ash in the air marked the shirt he had tried so hard to freshen up with excess water cans he’d found in random garbage bins around his neighborhood.
This was the happiest sun-cycle of his life, replacing the time he had found the secret grammar book on Vivreonish. Soon, he would be leaving the orphanage for good and would be heading in the direction of prestige, to respect, and to acceptance. He was confident that he would be chosen for the role of soldier.
Three lieutenants came to the orphanage four weeks ago to run all the orphans through some sort of crazy physical test. They were forced to climb ropes, run long distance, perform fifty push-ups, and even had to complete a session of hand-to-hand combat with each other. He wasn’t surprised that he was the only one to make it through the running section. He had been training for this. Mehch didn’t even complete the rope climb, falling after making it five feet. Esh had to stifle a laugh when he saw how red the fat bully’s gut had become from rope burn.
Since no other orphans had made it to the fighting part of the test, the three lieutenants were forced to bring a few other kids who had passed the test from other schools and orphanages. Esh took care of each of them rather quickly, especially after he took off his shirt, revealing his scar and using it as a tactic of fear. Two of his opponents had even refused to fight, choosing to cry instead.
As Esh sat straight up in his chair, he felt a sense of pride for the first time in his life. He couldn’t help but puff out his chest around the other kids.
In front of the waiting fourteen year olds was a podium surrounded by about thirty chairs where the kids’ future bosses would be sitting soon.
Kids chatted with one another excitedly. Through each of their mannerisms, Esh was able to tell which kids were from Reahlic royalty and which had been drug away from juvenile gangs.
It wasn’t long before a nasty fight between a royal and a gang member erupted. It ended quickly with both of them bleeding. But it was the royal who was now missing an ear.
“What the hell is going on in here!” screamed a fat sweaty man who had just entered under the metal roof. Behind the fat man walked two large men sporting the menacing shiny armor and Esh instantly forgot about the fight. The fat important man turned his head and yelled over his shoulder for someone to call an emergency care unit.
The ceremony didn’t get started until the royal and gangster were transported out. The gangster didn’t go without a fight, but it only took one punch to the gut by one of the armored soldiers to silence him. Esh heard a crack and was sure the blow had broken a few ribs.
“Now…” said the fat man, wiping sweat off his forehead. He wasn’t hot. He was just too big for his body to handle. “We can start the ceremony!”
Strangers dressed in all sorts of different uniforms began to pour into the makeshift auditorium. Most of them were not happy to be the representative of their trade. It was just another sun-cycle of work for them. The orphans were the only ones cheering. The other kids seemed unhappy to leave their homes or wherever they came from.
“Everyone sit down!” demanded the fat man, his eyes running through the crowd of orphans in disgust. “Last year’s ceremony took too much time and, as you all know, the people before you have work to do. So without further blabbing, let us begin.”
With a flick of the wrist, the man had pulled a large piece of parchment out of his pocket and placed a monocle over his eye. Esh doubted the important gross man needed glasses at all. It was just another way of placing him higher in the hierarchy.
“Rotz!” cried the man and a young boy in the back stood. “You are hereby sentenced to maintenance. Congratulations.” Before anyone could clap, the man had read another name and then another.
“Grond! You are sentenced to guard duty at the prison. Darurah, sentenced to midwife.” The man began to read faster and faster. Soon, two or three kids were standing up at once. “… sentenced to painter! … sentenced to surveillance! … sentenced to mail! … sentenced to…”
Esh’s excitement began to lessen and lessen as the ceremony dragged on. Had they forgotten about him? The auditorium was now only him and about twenty other kids.
“Mehch!” cried the fat man and Esh’s head raised. The sentence came quickly, “Sentenced to the army!”
Mehch squeaked and he fell over getting out of his chair. As he ran up to the two armored soldiers he turned around and gave Esh a smirk. How could this be? Mehch didn’t even make it up the rope! He was almost as fat as the man sentencing the kids and was no better than a piece of shit dropped on the side of the road by a shagra!
Esh made himself shake it off. He had come too far to let something like this get in his way. He knew he would make a better soldier than Mehch and he would prove it.
“Esh!” cried the announcer.
Esh’s heart raced and he stood with lightning speed, startling the fat man before he could even read the sentence.
“Err, um, yes… Esh, let’s see. Oh! Yes, sentenced to garbage duty. Chindrah! Sentenced to…” and that was that.
The young, hardworking, scarred and mentally abused orphan stayed standing, sure of himself that he had heard incorrectly. He had just been sentenced to soldier, ya, that’s right. He would become an excellent soldier. He would walk down the streets and people would yell his name. Lieutenant Esh! Lieutenant Esh!
Yet reality began to melt back into place. He realized everyone was staring at him, including the announcer who had stopped reading.
The ceremony was over and everyone was walking out with their new employers.
Beads of sweat mingled with tears at the end of Esh’s nose. He was all alone now under the metal roof. His misery took all of his attention away from the sun-cycle’s heat, heat that was more intense than usual.
How was it possible that he had not been chosen as soldier? He was by far the best! He was even smarter than them! It wasn’t fair! All that hard work… and for nothing.
Esh fell off his chair and pounded his fists into the ash, splashing the black all over his body. Tears ran down his cheeks as he kept smashing his fists, ignoring the pain. It was only when he noticed his fists were bleeding that he did stop. His head drooped and his forehead rested in the dirt. He closed his eyes.
But he knew why he hadn’t been chosen, because of his hair, his eyes, and… his parents. He would be punished yet again for being bred by a traitor and a loathed.
Ten minutes must have passed by before Esh realized he wasn’t alone. He could feel a presence behind him, and he opened his eyes.
Through his legs was the Elder, the man Esh had helped six years ago. His white beard had grown longer and he now wore large black sun shades.
And he was asleep.
The Elder was snoring very loudly which made Esh wonder how he had not heard it before. He stood up quietly and tried to make his escape before the Elder awoke.
The snoring stopped and the Elder leaned his head forward.
“Not too happy are you, lad?” he asked with a smile. His teeth were surprisingly white, too white for someone of Reah.
“Why didn’t you ever come back?” Esh asked, turning back towards the Elder. It was the first question that popped into his head, a question he hadn’t even known was important to him. But it was important.
“I never came back because I never left,” replied the Elder. He pulled a long cane he had strapped around his shoulder and placed it in front of him. “Why would I leave when you are so interesting to watch?”
Esh was instantly creeped out and, at that moment, he wished he could go back in time and stop his eight-year-old s
elf from ever getting in the way of the orphans and their crude game.
“And besides, who else would protect you from that mean ole Korp.”
Esh’s eyes widened. This Elder actually knew about Korp? How could he?
“What do you know about him?” Esh asked, momentarily forgetting he had just been sentenced to garbage duty.
“All I know is that he is very strange and very dangerous. He has problems in the head, I think.”
Esh was starting to believe Korp and this Elder were both crazy.
“However, I never did have to step in. Looks like he found someone else to play with,” said the Elder, standing up and turning his back to Esh. “Come along, we have to pick up all the undesirables that Reah has left on the street.”
“You might as well place me in that bag of yours,” Esh said under his breath. The Elder, with lightning speed, turned around and slammed his cane into Esh’s right temple making him crash to the ground.
He lay there holding his head, his body stunned. His cheeks burned out of pain and embarrassment.
The Elder bent over and put his face directly in front of Esh’s. Esh could smell alcohol on his breath. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again,” he hissed. “Do you understand me, lad?”
Esh nodded his head and the Elder gave him a hand up.
“Let’s go, we have work to do.”
Continue the journey of Esh by grabbing your own copy of “The Four Territories” here!
Stevie Collier is a Bestselling Fantasy Author who has just graduated University with a degree in Business and a degree in French.
The Lionheart: a LitRPG Novel (No Respawn Book 1) Page 23
