"That's it for today," Raelion announced, marking the end of the class. Without another word, he strode out, leaving a wake of silence.
The class erupted into hushed chit-chat, the students formed little groups. Perhaps they knew each other from earlier.
Sezel slumped at his desk, like a solitary island in a sea of murmuring humanity. His crimson eyes swept across the room, watching them laugh and share stories. A phantom ache gripped his heart, a memory of Rilli's giggles as they played with a friend whose face he could no longer recall, someone who died in the gate incident.
His heart was burdened by something he couldn't identify. But the ache was more than just a ghost of the past. It was the sharp, gnawing anxiety for his sister. Where is she? Has she eaten? Is anyone there to keep her safe? The thoughts were a relentless, tormenting cycle.
Such a wretched brother I am.
Tears welled, blurring his vision, each one a shard of guilt.
Through the corner of his eye, he saw a throng of teens encircling the rich rat in a red shirt from earlier. Their smiles were warm, their eyes alight with reverence, as if he were a star descended among mortals.
Curiosity, a persistent and often troublesome companion, pricked at him. He brushed the tears from his eyes and, with a casualness he didn't feel, drifted toward the group, settling on a nearby bench to eavesdrop.
"Is that true, Krono?" a boy asked, his voice dripping with awe.
"Of course," another intoned, his tone fervent. "Who do you think Krono is? He is the son of the great Silvia family."
"Oh my god, the Silvia family?" a girl gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of dramatic shock.
Yes, the one and only. Try to contain your excitement lady. Sezel didn't know what this commotion was about the Silvia Family, nor was he interested. But he was jealous, oh! who wouldn't be. He looked at the perfectly sharp and glistering face of the young boy. Girl's must be dying to put a hand on him.
"Yeah, every head of the family has been a Rank 5."
Sezel's breath caught, he was pulled back from his futile internal mockery Every single one?
The weight of that legacy was staggering. As genetics played a huge role in Awakening, It meant this boy, Krono, wasn't just a rich rat; he was a thoroughbred, destined for greatness, his future practically etched in stone.
Krono, the man of the hour, finally spoke, his voice a silken melody of practiced humility. "I am no special guy. I too am just like you all, my friends."
A shiver ran down Sezel's spine. I was right. He's a damn bastard.
All the other guys looked at him, their eyes gleaming with respect.
"You must have gotten a fable, right? What Rank are you?" a raven-haired boy demanded, his rough tone cutting through the reverence like a knife. He stood apart, his ill-fitting, army-issued clothes a stark contrast to the silks and tailored coats of the others.
Oh a fellow hater. Classic, a great man needs haters to succeed. Wait...why am i saying that.
All of the gathering turned towards him, with the rich guy staring at the oddball, their gazes screaming 'Read the room.'
Sezel thought he would be ignored, But Krono, to his credit, didn't ignore the boy. "I am a Rank 5," he said, his voice calm, "and I have received a silver fable: Steel Born."
Gasps rippled through the gathering, eyes wide with astonishment. The raven-haired boy froze, as if staring at his own doom. Krono was indeed the next head of the Silvia family.
Sezel, too, looked on in awe. A Rank 5. A silver fable. The rarest of the rare.
That sounds badass. A pang of envy twisted in his gut. But then, a smirk touched his lips. I have a golden fable. He wanted to shout it, to see the looks on their faces, but no one would believe him. And he didn't speak their language. So, he swallowed the urge.
Satisfied with the gleaned information, Sezel rose, slipping from the room quietly like the ghost he was.
His stomach, however, was not so subtle. It growled, an insistent reminder of his four-day fast. He just came for a sprawl because of boredom and deep down with hope that he might somehow find some place to eat.
But as always, his luck left him hanging by a thread in a foreign building with tens of ways to go. Sezel halted at a junction, crimson eyes scanning the maze, face troubled.
Wow. Looks like i am lost again. I'm getting good at this.
He sank to the floor, the cold tile a welcome relief to his tired legs. Why did I even try?
"What are you doing here?" a familiar voice asked, startling him.
He turned, his face a mask of sorrow. Raelion stood behind him, his sunglasses reflecting a sliver of light from a nearby window.
He studied Sezel for a moment, then sat beside him, lighting a cigar. The acrid smoke curled upward as he offered it to Sezel, "Here, want some?"
Sezel declined. He had enough vices; he didn't need to add another.
Raelion leaned back, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I know you miss your home."
Sezel looked at him, confused, or rather a little troubled. With a low whisper, he spoke, "What exactly is a home? I used to live in a makeshift structure of tin. Can it be called home?" he asked.
Raelion chuckled, a soft, sad sound. "Home isn't just a place. You can call a place home if your heart lingers there." A pause, heavy with unspoken truths, hung between them. "I miss mine sometimes," he added, his voice barely a whisper.
Before Sezel could even begin to process that, Raelion stood, patting his shoulder. "Come on, wanna grab some food?"
Sezel's eyes lit up. He shot to his feet. "Yes."
The captain's cryptic smile returned as he led the way through a garden to a wide, single-story building. A bold sign, which Sezel didn't need the translator to understand, hung above the entrance. The smell of delicious food, rich and savory, gave it away.
This place is definitely the cafeteria.
He followed Raelion inside the building. As he entered through the gate, the aroma of spices and the flavors made his mouth water. He was hungry for four days now; he couldn't contain his hunger, but he hesitated.
Raelion sensed Sezel's hesitation. "Eat what you want. No one will stop you."
The words unleashed him. Sezel went ahead and filled his plate with all kinds of exotic stuff he could find. It was marvelous. He hadn't seen most of these dishes his whole life, and the best of all were the succulent beef and tender poultry.
They were considered one of the luxuries in the world. After the great cataclysm, it became hard to herd animals, and Sezel, as a resident of the slums, had only heard about it, let alone seen one.
But here he could not just watch but actually taste all of the stuff he dreamed about. Sezel sat at a table with a full plate and stuffed like a hungry animal getting a prey after a long time.
He finished everything on his plate, then leaned back, a profound sense of gratitude washing over him.
So this is how it feels to live. He had nothing but gratitude in his heart. I'm glad I'm alive. Only because I live, can I enjoy everything else.