“You’re prices are ridiculous, only 5 crowns for a good trout?”
“That’s just what the value has always been, now are you going to sell or not?”
“Fine, not like I have any use for fish. Take it.”
Boris dropped the fish into a nearby barrel half-full of freshly caught fish. In return the fishmongerer gave the agreed amount of crowns, trying his best to hide a little smirk. Boris dropped his eyes, avoiding his gaze he left the building agitated.
Merchants these days, always trying to rob travellers of whatever they own.
He wandered around the paved town square, looking for people of interest. He had gotten used to people’s expressions over the years. Some end up just staring at you just for being an outsider, they always tried to hide it but he had seen it so many times he could recognize it in an instant. Others just simply ignore you, too distracted by their livelihood to care. He didn’t care, not like any of them would even have the courage to simply greet him.
He spotted a man by the fountain. The man was looking around at people, every now and then he would step towards somebody but then back away. Boris walked towards him, recognising his troubled face. He began to talk frantically.
“Oh, are you a wizard? Please help, I was outside the walls when I saw several bandits. I know I shouldn’t of been out there… they saw me… I think they want to kill me! I don’t know what to do, I don’t wanna die, I-”
“Hey, don’t worry, no need to panic. I can get them easily, just let me know where they are.”
“Ok, ok, I last saw them on the other side of the southern wall. Just please tell me you will get them.”
“Alright, I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
Boris left the worried man and went towards the grand stone gate. He had always wondered why the Castlians needed such a great wall, who would dare invade such a large town anyways? The Alaleans had always had such a hatred for the Castlians but raiding their towns would only put them at war with the Magic Council. It keeps the bandits and dark wizards out, but anyone powerful enough could easily just propel themselves over or even shatter the wall with pure magic energy. Well, even if the wall wasn’t enough, the king was the real protector of Summer Hold. His fire is more powerful than any magic Boris had ever witnessed before, he knew there were stronger wizards but he just couldn’t even imagine anyone able to defeat David in battle.
Boris went to the right and ran along the wall. He could always walk, but walking was always too slow for his schedule. Circling around the corner he was next to the eastern wall, just a few meters away from the splintered beach that is the Castlian Shore. Being on the coast has its advantages, the town always has a constant supply of mercenaries and foreign goods. On the other hand, pirates often lurked around beaches like these.
By now Boris had just rounded another corner and was behind the southern wall. Like always he quickly glanced around the area, walking to not attract too much attention. Just after a few seconds he had spotted them, three bandits sitting on the grass in a circle. He approached slowly and could hear their discussion. Something about how they would ambush unsuspecting civilians, but it didn’t matter. He had done this plenty of times before, after months of the same job he had little care for their talk.
He lifted up his right hand, focusing his mind he summoned a glowing white circle. It was intricate, adorned with runes and various other magical charms. It appeared right in the center of the three bandits, it only took them a second to recognize what it was but it was already too late. The circle immediately exploded into a large crystal of ice, flinging the bandits into the air. One crashed against the wall, instantly knocking them unconscious. The others tumbled onto the grass, their bodies burning from the sheer cold of the attack. Boris ran over and summoned a thin fang of ice, piercing into the second bandit’s chest. Before the third could even get up, Boris grew a pillar of ice from the ground that sent them skybound. Their body twisted in the air before landing on the sand with a hard thud. Within just seconds they were all on the ground.
He took a second to get his breath. He may have been doing this for a while now but he still got a rush of adrenaline every time. Good thing they didn’t get an arrow in me, those things always hurt for a day or two. Having caught his breath, he closed his eyes and focused once again. This time, instead of creating a circle, he called energy to himself. A white aura surrounded him, a thick white mist around his body. His mind had felt revitalized, like waking up after a long stress-free rest. He then calmed himself and the aura dissipated.
Just like that, Boris ran back towards the gate. The bandits laid there in the sun, their bodies broken and abandoned. He could have killed them like all the other so called ‘heroes’ of the world. Its not like they would’ve contributed anything to the world except for raising crime in the area. As Boris had always thought, such is their fate. Some are destined to be great wizards, others are born into the peasantry without the gift of magic. The weak are the killed and the strong are the survivors, it’s just the way life is in Magius. Nobody questions what is right or wrong because nobody cares.
He approached the corner of the wall.
Boris thought of something, perhaps it was from the bandits or just a spontaneous thought. What justified bandits being killed by heroes like him just because of who and where they were born? Boris had visited poor villages before and knew that sometimes those people turn to crime for crowns. Sometimes it is out of pure greed but others do it just so they can eat and survive. However, if they were born into rich families, they wouldn’t have a need to steal, right? No reason to become an outcast who stays in the forests without the comforts of towns, risking their life every day to try and live another. Boris wasn’t born rich, but not poor either. He also had the power of magic, which let him get crowns from people by attacking dark wizards and bandits. Could things be different if the world wasn’t the way it is? If there weren’t as many poor families?
By now Boris was walking.
What could he ever hope to do? He wasn’t wealthy like the Salores. He wasn’t powerful like the Silvers or the Golds. He was a Water, from a family he hardly even remembered. All he had was the power of ice, strong to keep him alive but not to change the world. He could knock out hundreds or even thousands of bandits in his lifetime and it wouldn’t change anything. The world wouldn’t be safer, there would always be stronger individuals out there, no matter how strong he could hope to get.
Boris stopped, walked over to the stone wall and sat against it. What even was he doing? Why was he fighting bandits? Was it for the safety of the man, the crowns he may reward, or because he had been doing it so long? Is there even a reason to continue doing what he was doing? Ever since he had discovered magic, he had worked to improve his magic. Training, focusing, spending entire days just to improve. Was it all in vain? Any day he could meet a powerful wizard who would just kill him without a thought. Much like what he did to the bandits. Even if he wasn’t killed in combat, he could drown, starve, die from illness, or just pass of old age.
It had dawned on Boris that what he was missing was a purpose for his life. All this time he had thought his purpose was simply to survive and grow powerful. Now, what is his true purpose? He sat there in contemplation for minutes, hours in deep thought. The man was probably worried of his disappearance but that was the least of Boris’ worries. Was this what it was like to be mad? Has insanity finally plagued his mind? He sat there on the wall, undisturbed the entire time. Birds perched on the wall above him, the sea breathed in front of him. To the sides were the trees and the bushes, behind him were the merchants and civillians continuing their busy day. Below he saw nobody but himself, sitting on a wall while everyone else was continuing their lives.
The sun was setting. The sky was full of color, from bright red to dark purple. The merchants closed their shops and walked back home. The wizards set up camp to rest or walked into the walls for the night. The bandits he had attacked had already awoken, and ran back to the forest to hide for the night. Everyone was getting ready for rest.
Its been long enough, I’m not changing anything sitting here. I’ll head back to Summer Hold, see if I can find a place to rest. Better than out here with all the bugs and bandits.
He stood up from his spot on the wall. He felt a bit lightheaded getting up after sitting for so long, almost losing his balance. He stabled himself, and began to walk. Toward the corner and around once again. Along the great stone wall. Through the gate, back into the town walls.
