Becoming Legend

"Why do you care?" Ned answered softly. He needed to make sure that the kid must not bother him anymore. He pulled his folded arms off the kid's neck together with the dagger pointing near the ear hole and moved to step backward. Leaving the kid kneeling on the cold brown bricks. He then threw the dagger away, clanging against the wall of the alley, and dimming in the night.

"You can't," said the kid while rubbing his neck making sure that his reddened face was back to how it was; tanned complexion. "I saw you left the House of Wood. Followed you here. And then, you grab me by my neck." He whizzed in between his words and coughed an air.

"Why would you follow me?" Ned said, a bit confused. It was his first time in the city of Bogaressi. In fact, it was his first time stepping into another country. Why would someone follow him?

"Can I stand?" The kid said, looking behind his shoulders. Against the light atop the window of one of the structures, his eyes glittered with dismay.

"I'm leaving," Ned said.

"Wait!" The kid cried. Standing at the same time. He spun and turned towards Ned.

The building beside Ned made a shadow that hid him from the prying eye of the kid, which made Ned mysteriously hidden under his black cloak.

The kid walked towards Ned.

"That's far enough," Ned said commanding. His white teeth gleamed under the beaming shaft of the moon. "Now, what do you want? Why follow me?"

The kid stopped, behind him was where Ned was supposed to exit, and behind Ned was the market. Not too far, but enough for Ned to hear the qualms of the hunter complaining about the injustice price of the merchant's products.

The two were surrounded by dark alleys, and passage making a cross path, Ned could leave to any direction if the kid would do something stupid.

"You're out in the open," the kid said. Unmoving, his legs flicked as if he can't get over the fact that he was subdued by a kid, younger then him. "Inside you'll be fine, but leaving the city? People will rob you."

The desperate people, just as Glenn said. "People like yourself?"

"Yes—no!" The kid cried, biting the bottom of his lips. "No! Look. Your cloak. Can I see it?"

My cloak? Ned cocked an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"Could you just move closer, let me see it in distance," the kid said heavily. Raising Ned's suspicion.

Yet, Ned seemed to be intrigued by the unknown. With that kind of thought, he brushed the end of his cloak. Inspect. Ned gave the word.

[Inspect complete.]

The robotic notification of ICE chimed the valley of Ned's thoughts.

[Unknown item.]

[Sewn from the scales of Mag'kals: a Grade B cold-blooded serpent type monster of the water element.]

[An additional two unknown materials were included.]

[Ability: Cold-blooded: regulates the temperature of the user. Warm to cold. Cold to warm. ]

[Item grade: C.]

[Would you like to name the Unknown item?]

After the different notifications. Ned had a clear idea as to how he was followed. The black cloak seemed normal at first glance. But, with a keen eye, like the kid, it was sure to gather attention.

No. Ned answered. Not now.

The kid was confused, he has been standing, unable to move, not that he can't, but he wanted for Ned to answer him. "Uhm," the kid hummed. "Kid?"

Ned walked closer to the kid. Under the concealed glow of the moon. Ned's cloak gleamed. The color was variant, depending on the angle, sometimes the color was darkened seaweed green, sometimes just plain black. It felt embossed under Ned's skin.

"By the Maker!" The kid gasped. Couldn't hide his quivering lips. "Grade D or C! Who are you kid? Whose house do you belong to?"

"None of your concern."

"House Belmont?"

"No."

"House Tarragon?"

"No, kid."

The kid frowned. "You don't look like from the Great House of Soak," he said, running a finger under his chin. "You're walking the streets with a valuable item, no escort. Can't afford a bow. But, you came out of from the House of Wood."

After a brief moment. "You're really new here, kid," he said eventually. "Three hundred silver for the cloak." He said with a straight face, but unaware that his fist was squeezing into a ball.

[He is lying, Ned.]

ICE chimed carefully.

He's trying though. Ned answered, amused. But three hundred silver? Where would the kid get three hundred silver? That's quite a sum for a kid looking like him. Shoddy hair, spying eyes, faded vest, faded trousers, and sandals. But one thing caught Ned's attention, even under the dimly lit alley, the kid's elbows were filled with thick callouses.

A thick bag strapped behind his waist, where Ned pulled the dagger, and a cylindrical item hanging along his waist that looked like the one Cas'a used to survey the vast seas.

"No, kid," Ned waved a hand. Walked backward and left the steady kid alone in the dark.

Instead of disappointment, the kid smile. "You won't hold for long, kid," he said. Following Ned.

Ned walked as if he heard nothing but the loud bantering of the hunters bargaining against the poor merchant.

"I told you old man, this one here worth four hundred."

"No, good warrior, my price stands at six hundred."

"You're staying here in Bogaressi?" The kid cried. His voice echoed in the alley. "Or what? It could be worse if you're going to the Capital. How many do you have, thirty? Forty? Tell you what, kid. Not even two hundred silver will make you last here for a day or two."

He was wrong. Ned got fifty-three silver. And he was right. Ned won't last long and he knew. But his thoughts were preoccupied with the man named Roy that would lead him to extract the Mark off his body. How could he though? He could last a week maybe two without food. He could live under the dying winter wind, sleeping under the trees outside of the city. He could find work that would pay for his days, maybe ten bronze a day, enough for a slice of thick bread. Which was not suitable for his developing body. He could force himself though, maybe he could last a month without food. Water, not the problem, Ned could gaze to his left, there, a spring running the canals were abundant. Or—

Ned paused on his tracks. I can't sell the cloak, that's a given. Unless I couldn't eat for a month. I might pawn it. If there was someone willing to give the cloak back. "I'm not selling the cloak, kid," Ned said, turning to face the kid. He saw the kid walking with spry toward him.

"Okay, okay," the kid said. Expressing a happy face while raising both of his hands mid-air as if he was giving up on Ned. "How about this, you lend me thirty of your silver, and I'll make it grow."

Out of curiosity, Ned said. "How?"

The kid's eye brimmed with joy. As if telling Ned that he had gone into something he shouldn't be. "I may not look like it," he said. "But, I can aim a bow."

Does he need to pop his chest? Ned thought. "What does it got to do with me?" He asked.

"Well," he said with haste. Afraid that he might lose his catch. "You've got the silver, I've got the aim. Lend me thirty of your silver, and I'll buy the bow over the merchant." Pointing at the plump merchant selling sorted bows.

"Then what?"

The kid lowered his hands and gestured as he talked to Ned. Making sure it looked convincing. "Then," he said. "We get to grow the silver. Fifty-fifty, plus the thirty silver I owed you, and I get to keep the bow."

Before Ned could rebut, the kid walked inside the dark alley; and came back with a dagger strapped behind the back on his waist. Ned saw how the kid clipped the dangling cylindrical item with full care. He stopped across Ned and smiled. Smiled for he got Ned's attention. This proves it since Ned hasn't moved an inch on his spot.

Resources; doesn't matter where I am, be it silver, or money of Earth, they worth the same. A man who loves money is an idiot, they are someone to be loathed. While a man who can't take care of it is a fool. You don't hate him, but you got to pity him. Ned thought, shaking his head.

"Fifty-fifty, I get to keep the bow," Ned said. He crossed his arms against his chest. Signaling the kid to choose the answer—the right answer.

The kid paused. "Fine," he said. " But, I get to choose the bow."

Ned smiled. For him, it doesn't matter what bow he uses, his skill without the Predictive Combat Emulator could compensate. Ned nodded. "But, I didn't agree with how you will make it raise. I could still claim a 'no' here. Depending on how you will answer me."

"Every month," he said, scratching the callouses on his elbow. "Hunter or no, as long as you got the skill, men gather outside the city, in the ruins under the forest of Pillowgrass, one kil east of the gate. There, Rouges gather to test their skills while earning some resources. You must come here to join a Selection, no?"

Ned shook his head.

"No," the kid nodded. "Good, cause you just missed it. What are you? Mage, Knight, or Rouge?"

"Trained as a knight," Ned said. Remembering a scene of him and his Master training. "But—"

"Knight," the kid sighed, continued to explain. "It's fine, it's fine, I'm good with bow your good with shields. In the game, only a bow is needed—skills come first, of course. A bet, if we win—I'll make sure of it, will make our silver double. All I need is to buy a bow. The betting silver, I'll handle it. But, of course, if you want to chip in with me, I'll be glad."

Seems plausible, Ned thought. "Win or lose," Ned said. Raising a finger. "I'll get to keep the bow."

"Deal," the kid said putting his hand across his chest and bowed. "I'm Kwan of the East Slum."

Ned patted his chest. "Deal," he said. "Ned of O'rriadt."

The two walked back inside the market with an agreement weighing their shoulders. Ned frowned and said. "What's the game's name?"

"I forgot to tell," Kwan said, scratching the back of his messy hair. "It's called Chance Arrow."