Abandoned Hope

“And that’s how I got these scars.” Isaii held his hand up, aligning the scar on the back of his palm to the one on his forehead.

“Lad,” an old man said, “You look almost as ridiculous as you sound.”

“Yeah!” a kid yelled. “The King doesn’t fight!”

Another kid, one wearing a tattered scarf – yellow and purple to signify the Kingdom’s colours – spoke up, “The King would never hurt us, stop lying old man!”

Old man? Isaii thought. Old. Man.

Isaii prided himself in many things. One such thing, of course, was his appearance. Silky-dark hair whose tone matched his youthful complexion – not grey in the least, which was expected since he was, in fact, not old. Nor did he look it, even with his overgrown beard and silver eyes stored with images someone as young as him shouldn’t have.

Okay, okay, he thought. Perhaps I’m not young, but I’m certainly not old. No. 24 was not by any means old, regardless of what his people would’ve said about an unmarried, jobless young man of his age.

“Kids, look at the Greysire would you?” he gestured at the old man. “Surely you don’t think I look like that?”

The man picked up a fruit from his cart. And, expecting his magic to kick in, Isaii did nothing but stare at it as it hit him. This, of course, summoned a fit of laughter from the kids.

“Do it again Greysire!” 

“You damned kids!” he yelled. “Watch your mouths!”

Amid the chaos, Isaii managed to nab a fruit and slip away. He bit into it and almost gagged. It was foul, rotten for sure. Which makes sense, he realised as he took in the run-down village. Houses that looked like they’d topple from a breeze, uneven mud-ground, worn-out garments…tradable-vegetation was probably the least of their concern.

Nonetheless, Isaii welcomed the fruit as a feast. It was his first meal since he’d escaped captivity at the King’s residence three days ago. He’d sustained more than a few injuries, but it’d been worth it. Afterall, the Royal Seal now sat snuggly beneath his cloak. He tugged his hood further down, certain that Wanted Posters were already circulating. And though this village was one of the many forgotten by the kingdom, hiding was instinct to Isaii. 

He ducked into a dark, concealed pathway, but it was barely a minute before something hard pressed into his back. His blood flared; remnants of magic pearls that he’d ingested earlier coursed through his veins but sat stubbornly beneath his skin. Ever since the King had slashed him three days ago, he hadn’t been able to use magic. He suspected it was because the King had used a Blessed dagger – not that he’d lost touch with his abilities. No, for this was another thing Isaii prided himself in.

 But when a whine filled the air, he was suddenly relieved that his magic was on the fritz. 

“Hey, hey,” Isaii soothed. “It’s okay, I’m sorry I startled you.” He pulled out a cloth from his cloak. “Here.”

The boy looked up at him, snot dripping and tears already drying as he accepted the cloth. He bit into it, “Yuck!”

“You’re not supposed to eat it!”

The boy continued to cry. Isaii dropped to his knees, an action which reminded him of the way he’d comforted his sister when she’d first been ousted for her silver eyes.

‘You’re not a monster, Reva. They’re just confused.’

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to be scared.” I won’t hurt you.

The boys head snapped up and he sucked in his snot. Then, as if insulted, yelled, “I’m not scared of you, I’m a King!

Okay then. “Well where are your guards your majesty. Or your family?”

The boy burst into tears again. “I don’t know!”

Dear God, Isaii thought. I’m too old for this.

“Did you get your scars in battle?” Yun asked. “Did you fight a dragon!”

“Dragons aren’t real, kid.” 

“I’m not a kid, I’m Great-king Yun! That’s why you’re carrying me.”

“Right, right,” Isaii said. “Funny you should say, because it was a King who gave me this.”

“King Delphic?”

“Yes.”

“You probably saw wrong. King Delphic is too nice.”

“Delphic is a monster, Yun.” Isaii usually saw the value in a sensitive approach – but when it came to matters of the Kingdom, he believed there was no room for subtlety. People – even kids – needed to know the truth, even if it was hard to swallow. They would be better off seeing the Palace for the ruthless people they were, than being reassured by their ambiguous promises. Had Isaii not stolen the Royal Seal, right now the King would be issuing a law for civilians to surrender their rainwater to palace envoys for ‘fear of intoxication’. Said laws also used an outdated census that disregarded many small villages like this and, prior to its decimation, Isaii’s homeland. Granted, his personal grudges had been the bigger motivator in stealing the Seal, but Isaii still acted for the good of the people and believed that in telling his story to small outcast villages such as this one, a rebellion might spark. 

“He’s not a monster,” Yun said. “When I got sick mama said that the King sent medicine just for me! And I never have to worry about invaders because King Delphic wants to protect me.”

Well, you’re not actually very protected, Isaii thought, looking around. “Yun, do you really think your village would be struggling this much if Delphic cared about you?”

“What are you talking about?” Yun asked. “We don’t struggle. Other villages don’t have even have as much fruit as us.”

A cold feeling washed over Isaii, and he bit back a response. Subtlety nor honesty would cut it. He couldn’t tell Yun that villages on the inner-walls had fresh fruit and clean water every day, that they never went to bed feeling hungry. 

“That’s why the King always asks us for donations.”

That his hero was a thief.

The smell of warm bread was, in its own right, a kind of magic – nothing else could evoke such wistful feelings. And when Isaii accepted a meal from Yun’s overly-insistent mother, it was only because of this. 

“Wait here,” Yun said. “I wanna show you something.”

“Yun!” his mother – Jiah - yelled. “Don’t run with food in your mouth!”

Mud-covered holes, a rusty-old pot over the gentle fire and two sheets laid out on the floor; their home held more semblance to a box than a house. Still, Isaii longed for this life. He knew it was impractical to think about what if’s, but he couldn’t help wondering. If his mother had survived, would the three of them – himself, his sister and her – have been able to live a simple life like this? 

“Do you want more bread?” Jiah asked. “Soup?”

“No.” He hadn’t seen her eat yet.

“Please, it’s the least I can do to repay you.” She forced a jar of water into his hands. “You’re not from here, are you?”

He stared into the jar, silver eyes rippling in the discoloured water.

“What brings you here?”

“Anarchy.”

“What?”

“I plan to overthrow the King,” he clarified. “You should try it, it’s quite fun.”

She laughed. “Your friends must love you.”

“I don’t have friends.” 

She laughed harder – a soft and contagious sound. Do all mothers laugh the same? Isaii swallowed his own laugh. Revolution required seriousness. “I’m serious,” he said. “Don’t believe everything you hear. I doubt Delphic even knows this village exists.”

“Of course his Majesty doesn’t know every single village and town. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care for us.”

His lips thinned. “If he cares about you then why are you going to bed hungry?”

She shook her head. “I know times are tough right now, but haven’t you heard about His Majesty’s anti-poverty scheme?”

“You don’t really believe that do you? Look around – the scheme’s been in motion for years now, but have you ever actually had an official visit the village to assess-”

“I’ve lived here my whole life, Isaii. Don’t assume I’ve been blind to it all.”

Isaii paused, contemplating her ambiguous admission. 

She filled his bowl with more soup. “It’s easy to take a stance like that when you’re young, there’s so much you haven’t seen yet.”

“I’ve seen worse than you,” he said, and was sure of it. He’d seen his homeland fall to ruins at the hands of the Kingdom’s negligence; friends, family, stability – all eradicated by the brute force of greed.

 “Maybe,” she said. “But you haven’t experienced enough to understand the value of a misconception. Sometimes it helps to believe in rumours.” She smiled. “Gossip is for more than just leisure here.”

Believing in rumours? The idea was absurd. And impractical. Yet, frustratingly, something about it weighed heavy on him. “I should go.” 

“Now? But Yun was-”

“Thank you for the meal,” he said, then pulled his hood on and disappeared before she could convince him to stay any longer.

The sky is blue, the grass is green and Wanted Posters would not make it to this village. One of these things was not like the others. Isaii ripped the paper off with a frown. He did not pride himself in his predictions. 

Interestingly, the poster had no indication that he’d stolen the Royal Seal – or anything petty theft at that. He grinned. The last thing the palace wanted was to summon social unrest. Conveniently, it was exactly what he wanted – so clearly, he had an edge over them.

“Over there!” someone yelled.

“Get him!” 

Word spreads fast here, he thought, recognising the first voice as the Greysire’s. Oh well, can’t blame them, they need the money. He tucked the poster in his cloak – a memento to mark his first tangible change – and ran. He didn’t want to hurt them, so a short dash and the scale of a building – all of which were much harder without his magic – and he’d shook them off. He jumped the short distance down and had barely caught his breath when a flash of purple and yellow struck in his periphery. Palace Officials.

He dodged the sharp slice of a blade just in time. Sweat beaded his skin at the sight of one, two, three – someone slashed his arm from behind – four enemies. Isaii stumbled back, and flexed his hands, willing for the remnants to set his skin ablaze with some much-needed strength. Nothing. The guards circled him with a caution that told Isaii they didn’t know his magic wasn’t working. He took advantage of their hesitation, sifting through the different pearls in his cloak. Blue – the one still running through his veins – for strength, Purple for stamina, and Green for recovery. Green had never worked for him before, so he swallowed it, hoping that maybe he’d needed a dry spell to activate it.

Prediction, wrong.

Isaii’s arm throbbed, cold, and limp by his side. An official ran forward, swinging his spear. Isaii side-stepped him then rammed his good elbow into the official’s back and ricocheted his good palm into the attacker’s head, slamming him into the ground. It was barely a second before the others charged forward. One at a time, Isaii. What he lacked in physique he could make up for in strategy. Pay attention to their dominant hands and legs, he reminded himself. Who do they look to for help and what’s their reflex to being hit? No action was without cause, especially given these were people trained to protect the King. What’s their aim? To kill or maim?

They attacked him all at once, and though he was able to get one more down by targeting her pressure points, he was starting to lose energy. He needed magic. 

Isaii exhaled an unsteady breath as his assailants zeroed in on him. Come on. He flexed his hands, feeling his blood run cold with the rush of the Remnants. I need you. They struck from either side, but with the help of his magic, he could eas-

Red. His vision drowned in a river of fire. His knees hit the ground as he clutched his chest where he’d been slashed. No. Get up, you have job to do, Isaii. But it was too late, and as his vision darkened his thoughts drifted to his sister. He’d left her all alone for fear that his acts of rebellion would put a target on her back. And now, he was going to die not having even done it. All for nothing. All alone. Alone. He’d die lonely. What a pathetic last regret. Maybe if he’d stayed with his sister, he wouldn’t have died all alone. Alone. Was she lonely? Was she going to be all alone when she died too?

“Isaii!”

He blinked and suddenly Yun was there, standing protectively in front of him. “It’s okay officers! He’s not a bad guy.”

“Yun…” Isaii breathed. “Run.”

Yun smiled, “It’s okay, Isaii. They only want to h-”

Red. Isaii’s eyes widened as Yun’s bloodied body hit the ground. The official swept his scythe through the air, throwing off the blood. Red.

Isaii’s veins sung like a raging storm. Suddenly he was surging with energy and anger and mag-

Red. A burst of blue light and his enemies fell to the ground. Yellow. He would remember the colour of this particular official’s eyes for later.

“Yun!” he called, nudging the boy. “Yun, hold on, I’m gonna get you help, just stay with me.”

“You…” Yun’s voice was harsh, roughened by the pooling blood. “…were right…Why…”

“Yun!”

“What’s the point?” 

“Yun!” Isaii gripped his arm. “No, I wasn’t, please, this…it…it’s all just a misunderstanding! Yun don’t-”

His eyes fluttered shut and Isaii cursed, placing a shaky hand on Yun’s forehead. Please. “Please…” he flexed his hand once, twice. And then, as if understanding his desperation, the magic flared. Green. 

“The King sent me to save you, Yun.”

The early hours of dawn had stained the sky a blue-orange. Isaii stood atop a building at the village-centre as villagers began to gather. He exhaled a shaky breath, ‘You’re not a monster, they’re just confused’, and pulled his hood down. Murmurs spread, loud and scared. By day’s end he would be the subject of town-gossip, tales spun to delineate him as everything he wasn’t.

But he had to do this.

Sometimes it helps to believe in rumours.

“It’s him!”

“Look at his eyes!”

“Traitor!”

Isaii waited, pensive, until a flash of purple and yellow burst through the crowd. He grinned as the Officials raced towards the building entrance. 

“Yes, hi, it is me. The bad guy,” he said to the villagers, certain that he had a few minutes to kill before the guards made it up there. “I did the thing to the King because…” he tilted his head to the side, pondering. Aha. “Because I was jealous!”

“Scum!”

“You don’t have the right to joke!”

“I’ll kill you!”

Well, that’s a bit dramatic.

“He hurt Yun!”

“That must be why Jiah’s not here.”

“He probably hurt her too!”

Isaii froze but hid his wavering conviction behind a mask of indifference. They’re just confused. Misconception.

The Officials burst through the door, and he spun around, thankful for the distraction. “Lovely morning for a spar, isn’t it fellas?”

One, two, three, attacked him and he dodged them all with ease. Now that he had his magic back, it wouldn’t take much time to end them. But Isaii wanted to savour this battle; let his blood roar to life in a powerful comeback.

The crowd cheered the enemy on but in Isaii’s mind it all meshed into a meaningless stream of words – he was too lost in the fray of magic against metal. Blue, Purple, Blue, Purple, and each weapon snapped – save for one.

Blue, Purple, Blue, Purple, and each attacker fell to the ground, screaming because he’d broken a joint or disfigured a ligament. But he’d leave them all alive, to tell his story – save for one.

Yellow. 

Distantly, he was aware of the villagers demanding to know why. Why did he betray them, why did he hurt Yun, why did he steal from the King.

“Because they were in my way.” Isaii picked up the man’s scythe, gripping him by the collar. The man stared up at him, eyes trembling, silently begging for pity. “And I don’t believe in mercy.” Red.

Something cold trickled down Isaii’s face as the official’s body hit the ground. Blood, but not his own.

He exhaled a deep breath, staring up at the sky as it melted into the yellows of a new day.

As he sifted through the bloodied rooftop, he made it a point not to look at the Officials. They were now the images of what Isaii was to the villagers, and only he would ever know. 

He reached the bottom of the building. Mindless, and apathetic as he set his sights on the back exit. 

Prediction, wrong.

“Why?” A familiar voice called out.

Jiah.

“Because you were right.” He didn’t turn around. “This place…forsaken by the palace…false promises are what kept you all alive. You need it, don’t you? The rumours. Hope.”

She paused. “What about your rebellion?”

He looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be back. Hope is just the first step for villages like this.”

She smiled, warm and genuine. “Can I look forward to seeing you in more posters, then? Yun’s already stuck one under his pillow for good-luck…I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“Just do one thing for me.” He gestured to the rooftop. “Don’t tell Yun about any of that. Please.”

She put her fingers together and swept them across her lips. My lips are sealed.

Isaii nodded and tucked his hood back on before leaving the village behind. Off to pre-empt rumours in the next village, or maybe spin a new story.

He prided himself in telling stories.