The Legend Of Black Eyes 239 Thibault's Folly

Stalwart moved on from one memory to another until he found the strongest one. He found himself in Yanoku's streets again. He was walking beside a terrified Sam. He was taller now. He'd also grown stronger. Agatha was at his heels, whispering curses as they went. 

"I told you that Stalwart boy was nothing but bad news," she hissed. "You never listen, boy! I told you to stay away from him." 

Sam turned around to face his aunt. His face was contorted in anger. He pointed a finger at her, opened his mouth then closed it again. His nostrils were flared, and he had difficulty breathing. 

"What's on your mind, boy?" Agatha asked in a condescending manner. She had her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised and half a smirk plastered on her face. Her yellow eyes stared at the young man with great disapproval. "Got anything to defend your worthless friend?" she asked. "Say something!" 

"Shut up, Agatha!" he hissed. He turned away and kept walking, faster this time.

Agatha's eyes narrowed to slits. She got closer to the boy and yanked him toward her. She buried her eyes in his. "What did you just say?" she asked, nostrils flaring, her bosom heaving up and down. 

"Shut your whole, Agatha," Sam repeated. "We're in deep s.h.i.+t as it is. Do you want that crazy man to come to us? You've seen what he's done to old Selmy, and he's a native of this land. n.o.body lifted a finger, not even the Chancellor." 

"All the more reason to give him the boy!" Agatha screamed. "I didn't fight all my life to have a lunatic from some church open me up with the entire city watching. Get your s.h.i.+t together boy! You've lived your dreams long enough. It's time to face it. We're nothing! We mean nothing, we've never meant anything and we never will!" 

"He's all his mother's got!" Sam retorted. "What would you have done if it was me, huh?! I bet you'd run to that priest, tell him where I –"

She slapped him. Her hands left a mark on his left cheek. Sam looked at Agatha with extreme disdain. "Never put me in that position, you hear?!" she screamed. 

"Go get your herbs and get busy mixing," Sam said in a calm, bored tone. "Keep your mouth shut, and that priest will soon leave us alone. No more following me around, you hear?" 

The scene changed once more. It was night time. The Azure Moon hovered above the city, draping its dirt walls in blue. Stalwart forgot how beautiful the moons' reflections made each city look, the Azure Moon most of all. 

"I FOUGHT THE DEADLIEST BEAST THIS DESERT HAS EVER KNOWN," a loud, drunken voice pierced the mad wizard's eardrums. "AND WHAT DO I GET, HUH?! WHAT THE f.u.c.k DO I GET?" 

Sam was hurriedly walking through the streets. Stalwart followed closely. The slums were deserted, save for the few drunkards heading back home. Sam looked upset, deeply shaken by the voice that screamed that night. 

Stalwart thought he'd recognized it. Something inside of him stirred. It was all the rage he'd bottled up along the years had suddenly rushed out, surfacing against his will. A bad feeling enveloped him. He felt as though he was about to witness something he shouldn't. 

"MY UNGRATEFUL BRATS LEAVE ME," the voice went on, piercing the silence once more. Stalwart saw some people looking out their windows then shutting them tight. They all had the same reaction as they looked out, however. They all grunted in disgust, looked around in fear then closed the window. It was as if they begged the world not to notice them.

"MY ALMIGHTY FATHER TURNS HIS BACK ON ME!" The familiar voice went on with its rant. "EVEN YOU, YEAH YOU! YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF COWARDS! MY SON'S HUNTED BY THE VERY PEOPLE YOU HATE! YET YOU ALL HIDE IN YOUR HOMES. I HOPE YOU ALL ROT IN FIVE h.e.l.lS!" 

Stalwart's heart sank. For the first time in years, the mad wizard's heart moved. He recognized the voice, and hurried behind Sam. The young man quickly reached the drunken Thibault Stalwart. He was about to jump at him, try to silence him, when the priest known as Utar appeared beside him. 

"Need some help there mister?" he asked with a wide, amiable smile. 

Thibault Stalwart turned to look at the priest. His eyes were half closed. He had a bottle on one hand while the other clumsily hung to his cane. A broken stick protruded through Thibault's torn trouser, where his leg used to be. He must have recognized the priest as he started screaming as soon as their eyes met. 

"YOU'RE THE ONE LOOKING FOR MY SON, AREN'T YOU?!" he asked with a wide grin. "YOU'RE THE ONE MAKING OUR LIVES MISERABLE! WELL, I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU! AND NEITHER IS MY SON... HAHAAA..." Thibault Stalwart dangerously swayed, and the priest caught him before he fell.

"YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ALL OF US, HUH?" Thibault went on.

Sam hid in a corner behind a cart. He scratched his head and sighed in frustration. "Think, Sam! f.u.c.k! What do I do?" 

"Are you Thibault Stalwart, son of Theolonius Stalwart?" the priest asked. 

"WHAT OF IT?" Thibault asked. "YOU HAVE NO POWER HERE! GO BACK TO YOUR HOLE IN THE EAST! YOUR KIND'S NOT WELCOME 'ERE!" 

He turned around and started vomiting. Utar stood behind the old drunk, eyeing him with both amus.e.m.e.nt and disgust. Sam had this look in his eyes, one that suggested he'd decided on something. He plastered a big fake smile on his face and strode forward. 

"Uncle Reza!" he screamed. "Why are you pestering our nice guest here?" 

He ran to Thibault and held him from under his arms. He turned to look at Utar. He gave him an apologetic smile then spoke. "Excuse my uncle," he said. "He's always wanted to be an actor. When his career didn't work out, he turned to the bottle. He still acts out on most nights." 

"Nice try," Utar said with a sly smirk. "This is definitely a Stalwart. Look at the ring he carries." 

Theolonius Stalwart instinctively ran his fingers through the ring he now possessed. He'd given it to his son the day he decided to become an adventurer. He never thought their paths would diverge to the point where he barely recognized his own blood. The Church had seen fit to return the ring to him, as a gesture of goodwill... 

They had blamed the incident on Utar, saying he acted on his own. The man was still alive, however, and he was still part of the Church. He was roaming the streets of the capital at the Bishop's heels. 

"You're interfering with official church business," Utar told Sam with a vindictive smile. "I suppose I should make an example of you too, unless you tell me where this fool lives."