5th of Zi'da, arc 716
Ye Old Inn
11th break
Lately, the days were getting tough. Not because of the joblessness or homelessness the boy put himself into, but simply because he had to watch everything he once protected with his life around him trust people that were not trustworthy, and dismiss people who could do so much more. That had been the case since the beginning, he realized, but alas, he was too preoccupied with living his dream of a hero to notice any bad sides. It was as if he was flipping a coin, and yet believing there is only one side to it. Foolish.
The boy huffed once more as he got himself nearly to the ground on his one and only hand, and then got up another foot or two away from it. And again, and again, he would do this, only to spite whichever Immortal decided on who lost what limb. It was as if he was saying I do not need the hand, I can do all things the same without it, which was obviously not true. Heck, even doing push-ups was way harder, nearly impossible even, without the other hand. But Aeon could do it. He needed to do it. If he could just make himself do ten now, perhaps he'd do more later on. More tomorrow. N-nine... Another huff and a drop of sweat on the floor of the rented room. Ten. He said to himself, but that wasn't enough. Before the battle, before he lost that hand, he would do thirty in the morning, just before his run, next to all the other exercising. And ever since then, he couldn't make himself return to the same training schedule.
Aeon knew though, that he didn't want or need that same training schedule. No, he was way beyond that. He needed a more intense, harder one, one that would push him to his limits constantly, and in doing so, make him break his limits and let them rise even higher every time. He fell down onto his front after he basically shouted twelve inside his brain, since it was most definitely a limit for what he could do with just one hand. It only took Aeon a bit or so to get up, as getting up, one might say, was his personal specialty, next to falling down of course. So many things to be done, so little time, but so much motivation. The more the boy grew a plan, the more motivated he felt to carry it out, and that feeling of purpose he had back when Ryqos was alive was so close to being within his thoughts again.
A new shirt would be nice. The thought came through the boy's head as he sat down at the table and opened the magical scroll he kept within the pocket of his cloak, which was now resting on the bed. Yes, he did need a new shirt, as well as some more clothing. And so his job for the day was decided; get more clothing. Not the most entertaining of jobs, certainly, and not the most useful, as he could've spent his time reading through books that would save his or someone else's life, or simply practicing, but even the most regular jobs needed to be done. It took him a fair couple of bits to put on the entirety of his leather armor, and then his cloak over it, just as he usually would, except for the hood. He found the hood unnecessary when inside the Inn.
"Hey, Aeon, you gonna have a bite with us? Or has mister No longer a knight some more important work than food and drinks?" A man basically yelled towards him from a table down at the far corner of the establishment. He, and his bunch, were one of the few knights that the blond man got close to after his mentor's death. There was one more, but that didn't end well, seeing how four out of the six of them had died on one single mission they went on together.
"Sure" The boy replied with a smile and joined the three warriors at their table, just as one of the newer employees of the Inn brought their own food and drinks. The three of them, like every civilized bunch, started filling up their own throats with their food, with no regards for the fact that Aeon had yet to receive his, or that basically half the room was looking at them.
"Eating stew at this break? You really are a madman my friend. Have you not tried their ribs? They're magnificent, magnificent I tell you." The other man, one that sat next to the boy, said, as Aeon's food and drink finally got there. To be honest, he always preferred the stew at Ye Old Inn, it always had that nice, salty flavor, over the greasy ribs which could either be, as Roland said, magnificent, or they could be awful. Somehow the bearded knight always got the magnificent ones, and the boy quickly moved to and from the thought of how.
"Well, it was a pleasure as always watching you pigs eat, but I've gotta be on my way." The sounds of drunken disappointment came from the other men, as the boy finished his mug of mead. Drinking at that time of day, even as little as he had, was not advised for someone with so much to do, but sometimes, Aeon just couldn't resist the temptation, sometimes, the memory of the sweet and strong taste that stood waiting in his throat would just be too strong, and he needed to have that one mug of alcohol. Just one, at least for now.
It didn't take the cloaked man, who was now wearing the hood, long to get to the marketplace, since he knew the road between the two locations like he knew his pockets. What he couldn't remember, however, was where the bloody tailor person's shop was. He kept thinking he was supposed to go left from the butcher's, but then when he did, it wasn't there, as if it was teasing him. Then he'd go around, try going straight next time, and end up near the bookstore, which was miles away from the tailor's. And just like that, he found himself at a shop that sold herbs and other whatnots, only to see a woman of black hair and sparkling skin approach, or, head off from his location. He couldn't be exactly quite sure. Was he even sure that he only had one mug of mead? Now that he was thinking about it, those knight arses knew how to trick men into drinking more than they wanted to.
He got closer to the woman he, at first, thought was imagining, while also trying to piece together the details, and as well as they fit, and as perfectly as he could remember everything, his memory just seemed wrong. He cursed inside him as he briefly tapped her shoulder expecting her to give him attention, at least for a brief trill or two. "E-excuse me, do you happen to know where the uhh... the... the tailor's shop, Elegance's Ericor, no, uhh, Ericor's Elegance, is?" Bloody hell, he couldn't even speak, oh, he only prayed that the swines had left the Inn, for their own sake. Shaking his head a little bit, Aeon regained full control over his tongue and mouth. "I'm sorry, I just have a little bit of a headache, please excuse me." He mumbled in quick succession hoping that would ease the embarrassment. It didn't.
Ye Old Inn
11th break
Lately, the days were getting tough. Not because of the joblessness or homelessness the boy put himself into, but simply because he had to watch everything he once protected with his life around him trust people that were not trustworthy, and dismiss people who could do so much more. That had been the case since the beginning, he realized, but alas, he was too preoccupied with living his dream of a hero to notice any bad sides. It was as if he was flipping a coin, and yet believing there is only one side to it. Foolish.
The boy huffed once more as he got himself nearly to the ground on his one and only hand, and then got up another foot or two away from it. And again, and again, he would do this, only to spite whichever Immortal decided on who lost what limb. It was as if he was saying I do not need the hand, I can do all things the same without it, which was obviously not true. Heck, even doing push-ups was way harder, nearly impossible even, without the other hand. But Aeon could do it. He needed to do it. If he could just make himself do ten now, perhaps he'd do more later on. More tomorrow. N-nine... Another huff and a drop of sweat on the floor of the rented room. Ten. He said to himself, but that wasn't enough. Before the battle, before he lost that hand, he would do thirty in the morning, just before his run, next to all the other exercising. And ever since then, he couldn't make himself return to the same training schedule.
Aeon knew though, that he didn't want or need that same training schedule. No, he was way beyond that. He needed a more intense, harder one, one that would push him to his limits constantly, and in doing so, make him break his limits and let them rise even higher every time. He fell down onto his front after he basically shouted twelve inside his brain, since it was most definitely a limit for what he could do with just one hand. It only took Aeon a bit or so to get up, as getting up, one might say, was his personal specialty, next to falling down of course. So many things to be done, so little time, but so much motivation. The more the boy grew a plan, the more motivated he felt to carry it out, and that feeling of purpose he had back when Ryqos was alive was so close to being within his thoughts again.
A new shirt would be nice. The thought came through the boy's head as he sat down at the table and opened the magical scroll he kept within the pocket of his cloak, which was now resting on the bed. Yes, he did need a new shirt, as well as some more clothing. And so his job for the day was decided; get more clothing. Not the most entertaining of jobs, certainly, and not the most useful, as he could've spent his time reading through books that would save his or someone else's life, or simply practicing, but even the most regular jobs needed to be done. It took him a fair couple of bits to put on the entirety of his leather armor, and then his cloak over it, just as he usually would, except for the hood. He found the hood unnecessary when inside the Inn.
"Hey, Aeon, you gonna have a bite with us? Or has mister No longer a knight some more important work than food and drinks?" A man basically yelled towards him from a table down at the far corner of the establishment. He, and his bunch, were one of the few knights that the blond man got close to after his mentor's death. There was one more, but that didn't end well, seeing how four out of the six of them had died on one single mission they went on together.
"Sure" The boy replied with a smile and joined the three warriors at their table, just as one of the newer employees of the Inn brought their own food and drinks. The three of them, like every civilized bunch, started filling up their own throats with their food, with no regards for the fact that Aeon had yet to receive his, or that basically half the room was looking at them.
"Eating stew at this break? You really are a madman my friend. Have you not tried their ribs? They're magnificent, magnificent I tell you." The other man, one that sat next to the boy, said, as Aeon's food and drink finally got there. To be honest, he always preferred the stew at Ye Old Inn, it always had that nice, salty flavor, over the greasy ribs which could either be, as Roland said, magnificent, or they could be awful. Somehow the bearded knight always got the magnificent ones, and the boy quickly moved to and from the thought of how.
"Well, it was a pleasure as always watching you pigs eat, but I've gotta be on my way." The sounds of drunken disappointment came from the other men, as the boy finished his mug of mead. Drinking at that time of day, even as little as he had, was not advised for someone with so much to do, but sometimes, Aeon just couldn't resist the temptation, sometimes, the memory of the sweet and strong taste that stood waiting in his throat would just be too strong, and he needed to have that one mug of alcohol. Just one, at least for now.
It didn't take the cloaked man, who was now wearing the hood, long to get to the marketplace, since he knew the road between the two locations like he knew his pockets. What he couldn't remember, however, was where the bloody tailor person's shop was. He kept thinking he was supposed to go left from the butcher's, but then when he did, it wasn't there, as if it was teasing him. Then he'd go around, try going straight next time, and end up near the bookstore, which was miles away from the tailor's. And just like that, he found himself at a shop that sold herbs and other whatnots, only to see a woman of black hair and sparkling skin approach, or, head off from his location. He couldn't be exactly quite sure. Was he even sure that he only had one mug of mead? Now that he was thinking about it, those knight arses knew how to trick men into drinking more than they wanted to.
He got closer to the woman he, at first, thought was imagining, while also trying to piece together the details, and as well as they fit, and as perfectly as he could remember everything, his memory just seemed wrong. He cursed inside him as he briefly tapped her shoulder expecting her to give him attention, at least for a brief trill or two. "E-excuse me, do you happen to know where the uhh... the... the tailor's shop, Elegance's Ericor, no, uhh, Ericor's Elegance, is?" Bloody hell, he couldn't even speak, oh, he only prayed that the swines had left the Inn, for their own sake. Shaking his head a little bit, Aeon regained full control over his tongue and mouth. "I'm sorry, I just have a little bit of a headache, please excuse me." He mumbled in quick succession hoping that would ease the embarrassment. It didn't.
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