Chapter 1: Ch 1:well i got something for you.

Thomas is a loser.

Objectively there is no better way of putting it in either the spoken form or the written form. Truly as a watcher of worlds whose visage has seen much i cannot think of anyone else who is as much as a loser as Thomas is. I vaguely remember two gods debating how a case like Thomas could exist, and all they devised is that Thomas must be a prank by Loki himself, and i find it personally hard to disagree. Though i cannot think how his wits were enough for such a task.

Thomas is a young men of about 18, with a boyish lingering on almost feminine face and overall appearance, and he measures around 5'2. His bones feel brittle at touch, and one has the impression they would crack at the slightest pressure. he is quite skinny, and does not possess any great abilities. He has no skills. He doesn't know any wizardry despite some attempts. Consequently, he knows no spells. Perhaps the only good thing about little Thomas is that he can run a bit faster than many other people. Which he will need in case he ever encounters a group of goblins. Or a group of divorced women. Neither ever make good company...

But you might ask what makes Thomas loserdom be so distinct from others losers? After all there are many losers out there. Well without indulging in pedantry i will simply say this. Thomas is just like all other losers. The only difference is that he is dumb enough to never give up based on his failures. He is the type of child whom if he lost a chess game 50 times to the same player, he would continue instead of giving up like other good losers who have maintained their wits with them. For at least they can enjoy their loserdom in peace and comfort, unlike Thomas who consciously wrecks his brains over the same thing over and over again.

A man once said that insanity is committing the same mistake over and over again. Thomas goes much beyond that; For not only does he repeat the same mistake a dozen times, but he also thinks it’s all either in good fun or that at least “he tried”. As if failing is a virtue!

Why would anyone want to be poor, without the company of a women, -not that i care for watchers have no such inclinations for love. In fact, i have no clue what natural inclinations we have. I seem to be the only one sane around here...- weak and defenceless in the most brutal of worlds imaginable! Well, okay not as brutal as your dad cooking, but that’s besides the point. Being okay with being a loser is utter insanity! When will our poor little Thomas come to his senses, and at last rest his mind and body by doing absolutely nothing, since he was made for nothing, instead of risking both his life and quality of life -for his desired profession is a tumultuous ones- for mere trifling results...

But alas, rambling does not befit a watcher. I shall explain to you, my dear reader, why it is that i was tasked with watching Thomas and solely Thomas for the past two weeks.

The reason is...

Well the truth of the matter is that i have no clue why i was tasked with watching him. Zeus sent me a letter detailing what i must do, but he did not find it convenient to inform me why i must do such meaningless tasks. I imagine it must be important ,but i have a sneaking suspicion someone is pulling my leg. At least i now have a steady stream of coconut water. Minerva tasked me with a job once, and didn’t even give me a birthday gift card!

So all of that brings us to the current time, to this exact minute, to this exact second. Out in the green fields of Winchester(somewhere in the middle of nowhere), lies a little village of around two thousand people. It’s a backwater town filled with even more backwater people whom the concept of hygiene and good manners is, but a stretch of the imagination. The only good thing to the place is that it’s located on a hill, and from that hill you can see the sun shine upon the cleanest blue that the sea can offer, whilst the breeze flutters the grass and dances with the tree branches...

Oh, i forgot. There is also another good thing about it. Or, bad depending on how you see it. It’s where our little Thomas lives. And currently our little Thomas is sword fighting. Or sword missing depending on how you see it. For the boy cannot for the life of him manage the sword that was given to him, and lay even one strike on the old and pot bellied instructor. But, maybe today it’s his lucky day.

“That boy can’t hit squat.” said the apprentice of the instructor, who lacks just as much finesse both visually and tongue wise as his instructor.

“I trust that he will learn one day.” uttered another man standing next to the apprentice with the utmost confidence while wearing these long and dark blue robes, with a pointy dark blue hat with these intricate patterns that are so fashionable these days.

“You are his uncle, but boy are you as deluded as him. That boy can barely grab a sword much less move it and move with it.”

Yes, this man is dear little Thomas uncle. Despite being his uncle, he is relatively young and in his late 20s. He is constantly “called” by the army-to assist them in another puny war made by fat noblemen,- to fat to even walk much less go outside to see the distress they inflict upon their people. Not that it would affect them either way.- so he is often unable to spend any time with Thomas and educate him properly in the ways of life. For you see...

Thomas is an orphan. His parents died in the 20 year war(whom Thomas uncle participated in) when their village was invaded by a group of mercenaries looking for riches and beyond. Thomas was a mere 4 year old child when all of this happened, so luckily he doesn’t remember much about the sad death of his parents, or the pillaging of his village, but no man can grow without a mother and a father and be without cuts. Cuts to deep to mention. Luckily, Thomas uncle loves him just as much as a parent would, but again with a tear i must say Thomas uncle is barely at home, so loneliness is often Thomas only companion.

“Wait, that could be something.” said the uncle.

A miracle! Whilst i babbled on and on Thomas was able to dodge one of the instructors attacks, and finally dive into a position where he might be able to strike his opponent. Thomas clinged to his sword as a mad lover clings to infidelity, and struck at the instructor, aiming at his chest.

THUMP!

And Thomas fell.

“Fell right on his ass,” said the instructor who as soon as he finished his sentence drizzled up some saliva and spat it out onto to the grass.”You own me 5 sweet golden coins” he continued.

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Uncle looked down at the grass as if he had heavy regrets over his childish hopes on his dear little nephew, and grabbed some coins out of his pocket.

“Here.” said uncle whilst shoving the coins into the apprentice pocket. The instructor didn’t say anything and just had this big dumb smile on his face befitting of such a common ignoramus

Our dear little Thomas was still lying on the ground, and it seems the lesson had finished as the old fat instructor hand signed for his apprentice to come pick up the swords, and headed down the road that leads straight to the biggest bar in town. Admittedly i can’t blame him. They have a chicken special today...

Uncle got up and walk briskly to little Thomas.

“You need help?” asked uncle.

“No.” Thomas said.

Thomas legs and arms twitched ,but they didn’t move. His eyes were squinting and his face was as red as they come.

“You sure?” Asked the uncle again.

Thomas tried to move one more time before putting his hand on his eyes and uttering ”okay, but only this time”.

Thomas was a very conscious young man, and lately his heart had gone all “doki-doki” as Hercules used to say, on this blonde girl from the village. She was never around the practising range, but Thomas didn’t care. To him she could be anywhere. In his heart she was certainly always present, so i suppose to a romanticist thomas sentiment holds true. Sad thing that romanticists are usually never right. Last time they claimed all people were nice inside at the end of the day, but i am still waiting for my cinnamon bun that little red riding hood claimed she would give me. Wait is little red riding hood even still alive?

Uncle grabbed Thomas up and dragged him to this tree sitting just outside the range and laid him down in the shade.

“Uncle, you got this look on your face. Something happened?” asked Thomas with this quasi sad expression.

“Huh?” uncle mumbled whilst struggling to begin a new sentence, ”it’s just that; well; it’s complicated.” expressed uncle in confused tone.

“Complicated how? You going away again?” Thomas said whilst for real having this time a grim look on his face.

“No, it’s not that...Well darn it. You remember grandpa?” asked uncle.

“Grandpa?” said Thomas whilst trying to muster up his grandpa image. But he couldn't get anything to his mind.

Thomas grandpa went missing a long time ago. He went missing much before Thomas ever came to be. It’s said that one day he went into the local forest and never came back . Everyone went out looking for him, but no one found even a hint of where he might be. I remember this case, because my mentor was assigned to the case and he also couldn't find thomas grandpa. The entire case is quite ridiculous, and i suspect some foul play is at hand for it is incredibly rare that we watchers cannot find someone simply by thinking about them for 2 seconds. The truth is probably much less exciting then whatever it is that you are thinking reader. He was probably captured by some eccentric wizard looking to experiment on fellows humans in secret. Sad story indeed, but such is life.

“The one who went missing?" said uncle.

“I remember your stories about him.” said Thomas whilst nodding

“Well” uncle paused, ”I haven’t told you anything until now, but it’s time for you to know. You are now a grown man after all...

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