Chapter 8: Expectations (1)

Lex enters the kitchen and sits down at the table with the others. The oaky smell of the smoked salmon fills the air, the plated table is lit up by the warm candle-light, as the moon doesn’t show today.

“Has he said anything different this time?”, Marc asks her as he starts placing salmon cuts on his friends’ plates.

“Nope, not a thing. When I came in, he just sat there, staring at the wall. I left the food on the table and looked at him, but he just said ‘thank you’, and started eating.”, she tells them.

“That guy really is a weird one, isn’t he?”, Kaze notes.

“It’s like the guy is not even human. His face always looks empty, he only speaks when necessary or out of courtesy, and he doesn’t do anything else than sleep, eat, meditate or stare at the wall all day. I guess he really has to be the chosen one, maybe the guy is really just born without any drive for fun or excitement.”, Lark ponders. With all the plates filled by potatoes and salmon, they start feasting, except for Marc, who just stares at his plate.

“What’s wrong?”, Lex asks him.

“You know, it’s just… strange. I’ve always assumed he would be some arrogant, demanding asshole, who’s just used to being catered to all day. But eversince we walked him over to that small hut and brought him food regularly, he’s not wanted anything. It’s been an entire week now, and he’s just… existing.”, he explains, and looks around at his friends. “It’s like that guy is an empty shell. I mean, isn’t the chosen one, the once every few generation miracle of fighting talent, also just a human like everybody else? When that bastard threatend you, he should have been in unbearable pain, and while he crunched up and his face turned tense for a moment, he didn’t even make a sound. It’s like his body is human, but his mind isn’t. I feel like he’s the kind of person to only deal with the issues he’s thrown at, so it almost feels kind of wrong to blame him for not helping our village in times of need. Do you get what I mean?”, he asks his friends, who have all stopped eating by now, staring either at him or their plates.

“Yeah, I kinda get you. Maybe he was just kind of stuck in that palace of his, you know?”, Elaine affirmes.

“Maybe we should go show him the village tomorrow? If he’s really anything like those prohecies and stories make him out to be, he might just react to those people in need when he sees them himself.”, Lex suggests. “Who knows, perhaps he will even get rid off those damned ‘tax collectors’.”

“Yeah, lets do that.”, Marc agrees.

“Sounds good to me.”, Kaze adds, and both Lark and Elaine nod with a hint of excitement.

As the sun is close to reaching it’s peak, Lex and Marc enter Nathan’s room together, who just sits upright on his bed, looking through a small window next to it.

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“Hey, chosen one. Actually, would you tell us your name? It fells kind of strange calling someone our age by his title.”, Lex requests.

Nathan turns his head to look at her. “My name is Nathan. Just Nathan, no family name.”, he answers.

“So, Nathan, would you mind coming with us? We’d like to show you the village down the river.”, Marc explains.

He just sits there, expressionless as always, and remains silent.

“At this point movement might aid your recovery.”, Lex adds.

He looks at her for a moment, then gets up from the bed. “I’ll go if you will lend me some money for buying a few accessories. For my recovery, that is.”, he suggests.

Lex turns to Marc, confirms her decision with a quick nod, and answers “Fine, come with us then. And, we’re not exactly overflowing with money, and neither is the village. So, we’ll have to see what we can get you when we’re there.”

As the group of six arrives by the village half an hour later, they are greeted by a few friendly faces upon their entry. Surrounded by a thin, about 9 meters high wall made up of young tree trunks, sharpend on the top, it lies amidst a forest, with a part of the canyon river flowing through it, but much more quietly then further upstream. Made up of mostly wooden constructions, sometimes with a bit of cobblestone built in, and barely any buildings with two stories, it appears to be a fairly quiet place. As they follow the gravel paths towards it’s central market place, they walk past an accumulation of tiny clay huts, housing mostly elderly people. A couple of them appear to be holding a prayer session, and it catches Nathan’s eye. “May the chosen one, our warrior of light, bring an end to the darkness that plagues us.”, an elderly woman chants, and a group of both old and young repeat, sitting and bowing their heads to the ground. The five friends all take a peak at Nathan, and to their surprise, his face shows a hint of irritation.

Nathan himself remembers Wertan’s words as he looks upon the scene. ‘ “You just look at me like I’m just another nuisance. Why is that?” - it’s always the same. It’s because you expect the answer to your issues from me, instead of seeking it yourself.’, he thinks to himself, and turns his gaze away from the believers.

They arrive at the marketplace, an open plaza with a cobblestone floor, featuring a multitude of shops, for food, cloth as well as tools and weapons, and a tavern. Elaine steps in front of the group, turns around and spins her index finger to point at the entire place. “This place is pretty buzzing at night. The people celebrate staying safe for the moment, and hope for things to remain that way.”, she tells Nathan. Meanwhile, Lark and Kaze depart somewhere else, following an elderly man. Elaine’s gaze turns towards the ground. “You see, this place is being plagued by ‘tax collectors’, always demanding everything we have to spare, leaving most people here barely able to survive.”, she continues. The petite woman now gazes into his eyes, and starts speaking with a tad of sadness. “Not knowing when the demands might rise to unbearable levels, we’ve been trying to ask the king for help, but not a single soldier ever came.”

‘Again.’, Nathan thinks. ‘Why do you keep looking at me like that?’, he wonders, as his face shows a very slight bit of irritation once more.

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