Chapter 2: CHAPTER 2: New Commission

Velyts almost hit himself square in the face due to his embarrassment. What kind of name was that? ‘Velyts’?! Yet, as Afi threw one last glance his way, he could only wait for her to retrieve the keys and unlock the cuffs for everyone, staying completely silent.

“The closest village is about a few hours away from this oasis. Loot the corpses and let’s go,” announced Afi as she filled her own flask with cold water.

The slaves did as instructed, though one immediately piped up, upset about a fellow, “do we have to take that savage with us? He almost slit my throat moments ago!”

Velyts quietly agreed with the boy; he definitely did not wish to become another decomposing cadaver left to rot in these endless hills of sand. More and more slaves began nodding or voicing their opinions, until the savage in question burst with anger and shouted, “do what you want! Whether you want to take me along or not, I’ll still be going to that village!”

“Stop,” Afi raised her hand. The authority in her voice was unmistakable, hushing everyone the moment she spoke. “I shall administer punishment for him once we arrive at our destination. For now, don’t give him any attention.”

Some slaves still deemed this to not be enough, but clamped their lips shut, their faces expressing indignation. Velyts, however, was happy enough to still be alive and kicking at this point, given how this world was incredibly rough for those weak.

Taking most of the belongings of the dead guards, the slaves, along with Afi, began their arduous journey to the village.

The desert at night was unexpectedly chilly. Each time a cool breeze flew past Velyts, he would tug at his clothes in an attempt to cover his body more. At one point, he even rubbed his arms madly to create some warmth, the action going unnoticed by the others but Afi.

She walked to his side, “are you cold? You’re awfully delicate.”

Velyts immediately stopped and pretended the cold did not affect him for the remainder of the journey.

The village was more populous than anticipated. White, rectangular buildings protruded proudly from the desert sands as they strode through the city gates. A mercenary exchanged brief words with Afi, before being let in, but not without getting scrutinized by other citizens.

“In the North is the capital. It will take a couple of days to reach it. If you wish to stay in the village, you’re more than welcome. There’s been a recent lack of manpower, therefore finding work should be fairly easy,” said Afi at the slaves. Then, taking a step back, she bid her farewells and made a move to leave.

Wait! If she leaves, does this mean she’ll follow the plotline and murder the sultana? Velyts sweated profusely at this thought. She’ll die!

“Sorry, but,” he grabbed her arm and locked his eyes with the young beauty. His heartbeat quickened as she did not avert her eyes, instead tilting her head adorably in confusion. “I… I wish to follow you, Afi!”

Afi parted her incarnadine lips in surprise.

“Can I also learn to… wield a bow like you?” Pleaseworkpleaseworkpleaseworkple―

“Woah,” Afi smiled demurely at his words. “That’s the first time I’ve been asked this. How nice.”

Velyts hesitated, before returning the grin, his heart jumping with joy inside his ribcage. How nice! She told him it was nice! That was, until Afi suddenly took out a dagger and ruthlessly pressed it against his throat, cutting his breath short from the astonishment.

“How do you know my name?” Her eyes glittered viciously and dangerously. “Was it the sultana? Was it Nola?”

“W-what?!” Every muscle of his felt tight, sprung for action and even talking was a difficult task. His heart was accelerating and his mind replayed gore scenes on a short loop. “You-you’re wrong! I… I heard stories about your bravery! That’s how I know you, I swear!”

Velyts really felt like bashing his head against a wall or something. He was too excited just then! How foolish of him!

Afi held the dagger against his tanned skin for a beat longer, before lowering it cautiously, her eyes colder than the Arctic temperatures. She sighed, “I’ll ask Levi to jail you until we are sure you’re not a threat to any of us.”

Jail me????! Velyts wanted to sob his lungs out. Come on!!!

“But I’m not!” he insisted weakly.

“We were all farmers before being abducted by our captors,” one of the slaves still present spoke up in favour for Velyts. It was a boy younger than the rest. “We were all poor and lived far away from the capital.”

Another man intervened, “he was brought in just a few days after me, famished and beaten up badly. Not once had he acted suspiciously.”

There was a faint sense of camaraderie between each of the slaves. Despite struggling to survive and fighting daily for a piece of bread, they still protected one another in small ways.

Afi knitted her brows together as she pondered. After a while, she made her decision and gestured with her head, “you wish to follow me? See if you can handle me.”

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Velyts peeked one last time at the slaves, then hurriedly chased after Afi, thanking profusely the other canon fodders. It seems… even those unimportant characters had some sort of important role!

By the time Velyts came at Afi’s side puffing and panting, she was already scanning a wooden board with numerous writing papers nailed to it, each portraying in words some sort of incident or individual that needed to be caught and killed or arrested. It was odd how the words of this world were unintelligible to the humans of his world, yet Velyts could perfectly understand everything.

“These are…”

“Commissions,” Afi took the word out of his mouth and completed his sentence casually. “This is what I do for a living; I either find lost children, cook for the disabled, protect the elderly or murder people. Or monsters.”

“How… varied,” Velyts secretly wiped his sweat off.

Afi ruminated over something, before ultimately asking, “do you take your powers from nature or do you use the nature for your powers?”

“Um, what?” Is she referring to…

“It seems you really don’t know.” Afi elaborated, “taking powers from nature is using the fundamental elements―earth, fire, water and wind―and manipulating them to your advantage. Someone able to do this is called a User. Some can manipulate more than one element, which earns them the title of Chosen. Have you heard of them?”

Of course he heard of them! He had been reading that damned novel so attentively, he was even knowledgeable of the minute details! But wouldn’t Afi be distrustful of him again?

Despite yearning to explain everything about the Chosen to her himself, he merely shook his head.

“There are only four Chosen in this world, three men and one woman.”

Yes, and that very same woman is the protagonist!!!

“Rek can manipulate the earth and wind―”

And battled against the protagonist for the Holy Hourglass and failed every time!

“―Eher, fire and wind―”

And lost his life in the War of the Thousand Souls!

“―Thodros, water and fire―”

And was hinted to be the hidden villain!

“―and, finally, Kleo, earth and water.”

Velyts could barely contain his giddiness as he heard Afi mention the protagonist. The one person he respected and looked up to, but was unfortunately trashed by the author!

“I’m not a User, but part of the majority of the people who use the natural resources to craft equipment strong enough to rival any of the Users’ abilities,” Afi claimed proudly and Velyts darted his eyes to the bow on her back. It was truly magnificent―it glimmered under the lights of the lamps in shades of gold, showcasing its luxury and might. 

“If you manage to kill this,” she tapped on a poster nailed to the commission board, depicting a drawing of a ferocious spider-like monster, “with this,” she threw her dagger at him and he scrambled to catch it, “I’ll consider adding you to my team.”

“So, you aren’t suspicious of me anymore?”

“Don’t push it,” Afi warned and began walking between stalls covered with strikingly bright cloth. “Let’s get you fed and clothed, then we’ll leave.”

***

After feasting on some honey rolls handed to him by a merchant, Afi bought Velyts a white tunic, which resembled the ones penurious villagers wore. Nevertheless, he was content to have something to conceal his once-exposed torso and a full belly. Strapping a leather belt similar to the one Afi possessed with necessities attached to it, they embarked on a journey, with Velyts starting a praying marathon to the deities above to return in one piece and alive. 

Unknown to them, their loud chatter from before had attracted someone’s attention.

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