Peaceful in the comfort of his flat pillow and flatter blanket, unbothered by the random pieces of rustling that vibrated towards him pass the wall of planks of his home. Quiet murmurs danced about outside, making him pull his blanket up even higher to dimish the discomfort but it unfortunately fell short.
No longer able to pretend-sleep past the noise and ruckus, with a childish huff turned his body and pushed off his furred rug of a bed. His course grey cloths pulling across the rug and unknowingly drawing static that would luckily disperse with time. Sitting up, the blanket slowly sliding off his shoulder.
Rubbing his sticky eyes with his hand, looking around at the same time seeing no one else around but he knew where his mother was. Most likely outside cooking food for the both of them.
Getting up and walking out his rug, slipped on his fainting blue espandrilles, an uncontrollable yawn arriving to his face to start his day. Feeling the stretch of his tight skin, moved to brush his teeth. Grabbing the bar handle, uncovered the water bucket lid with a heave of his small arms, sliding it across and balancing it on the top. Placing it just far enough away where his cup could unobstructedly enter.
At the age to brush his own teeth, filled his cup with just enough water and with the toothbrush from the cup, swiped it on some green goo in a bowl on the floor. Getting just enough for a clean brush.
Taking everything with him, cup in one hand and a wooden toothbrush in the other, pushed pass the door. With the side of his arm pushing with the right amount force to slowly creep the door open. Scared to unknowingly bumb into anything, especially his mother, although she wouldn't shout. She has never shouted before.
Opened enough to poke his head out, the breeze blowing softly on his freshly-woken hair and fissling the wrinkles of his rough cloths. Bright sunlight harshly blasting his eyes, so bright they squinted and closed until he adjusted with a troubled face.
The sight of the packed street meeting him as the blinding rays eased. Fabric fluttering in the winds, people's wet cloths under the sun, the chatter of people awake much longer than he has and the smoke exiting from a man's mouth opposite the path to himself. Only a few skips far for his small legs. Tides of sound entering his ears no longer blocked nor muffled.
Out under the cosiness of the sunshine, unfiltered heat pressing on his baby-soft skin warming his flesh. Searching around until he found his mother to the side. Squatting by a fire circled by rocks with a bubbling bucket on top. A stream of rising ash and steam rushing to the air above, dispersed and gone with time. Her face blocked by the unruly hair that flowed out her temple, waiting on the cooked food. Unnoticing his expenture out the house or anything else other than the bubbles. A thick cloth in her hand.
Looking for a second or two with squinting, cheerie eyes, he began walking to the other side and turned the corner where he entered a closed off alley inbetween his home and another. Sheets of metal spanned across the top shadowing the area. Held up by a worrisome scaffold of sticks and weathered rope. Peckings of light escaping through the covering.
Walking closer to the end, he had reached his designated spot to brush his teeth. The same spot where his mother used to brush his teeth but now that he was old enough, he had to take responsibility and do it himself.
Away from the people, he started the routine. Wetting his mouth with a little sip of the cup started scrubbing. Reenacting how his mother would have, light and soft motions that covered each tooth. Zig Zags and circles as he looked towards the alleyway entrance. Watching the passing of people while squatting like his mum. Big eyed as he peacefully stared, uncaring if anyone saw, never minding the people. People were just people, they had their things and he has his. Too clean his mouth like a good kid. Taking a larger sip of water, swashed it around before spitting it out onto the hard dirt. Wiping his mouth with his hand.
Pouring some water onto the brush, he prepared for the worse part. Careful and as steady as he could, scrapped his tongue with the tough bristles reaching to the further end, accustomed to not gag but still difficult to not. The longest part of the activity for a reason. When first Brushing on his own, he had tried to clean his tongue like how his mother did but having no expirience, caused a mini tear making him tear up. No longer the boy he once was, taller and smarter, the problem wouldn't happen again.
Washing his toothbrush and hand with some water and with the left over, splashed it onto his face, spreading it to his ears ready to wipe his face clean, realised he had forgotten his face cloth.
Taking everything with him unhurriedly walked back to the house, water dripping down his chin. Passing the charred campfire that his mother no longer waited next to. Instead, next to the table scooping soup from the small bucket on the ground. Placing back the cup and toothbrush, grabbed a folded cloth on a stool next to him. Scrupping every wet part of his face, being sure to get every droplet and to fold it back to how it was previously. Going to where his mother is.
His mother seated with two filled bowl on the slanted table, placed on opposite edges. Pulling out the stool he pushed himself up with both arms, needing to reach to get himself up on the short three-legged stool and tall table. Facing the scent of boiled potatoes and carrots.
A cheeky smile plastered on his face every since he came inside and noiticed the food. Holding the spoon brought a chunk of carrot close to his mouth, blowing on it with hefty inhales of breath. Steam flying away with each release. Eating in silence beside the presence of his mother was a joy he always liked, even outshinning the glow of the sun.
Chewing and taking glances at his mother as he ate, her attention focused on her own bowl he followed her example. Keenly looking at his food but was still unable to not sneakily take looks at her pretty face.
Drinking her last bit of soup carried it to the open bucket at the corner of the room which he had forgotten to close. Turning his head as he followed her in interest before going back to his bowl to eat the last piece of potato. Leaving only the soup to gulp down, cooled down where no more steam rose. Hearing the splashes of water out the door as his mother cleaned her bowl.
Taking portioned swigs, chugging down the nutritional liquid till his breath went low. Drinking most of the soup, dropped it down panting. Only a few sips of delight left but he needed to refill his used up valor. Both hands clasped on the big bowl, a pasture of cloudy wetness on his upper lip which he licked clean. The faint scent and taste warmed his empty stomach.
Coming back inside to place the cleaned spoon and bowl back onto the table. A tiny boy sat, feet dangling swinging back and forth without a care on a stool that was as tall as his lowest ribs and drinking from a bowl from a tabletop that his neck barely passed over. Both his hands on his bowl and gulping down his soup from what she could tell, his un-kept hair blocking the view. Walking over, stumbling from the numbness of a sprained ankle, caught her footing before reaching the child's peripheral.
Putting down the bowl and spoon, ready to get everything to go out, she could feel the little looks the child was giving her. Not directly looking at him but the glances were hard to ignore and before she went past.
"wash your hair today."
Quiet but unmissable for the child, his face instantly lighting up like a glistening star.
"Okay!"
She could practically hear the structure of a smile as the word left his mouth.
Going past to a pile of scrap and metal trinkets ontop of a layed out, long and wide rag on the dusty floorboards. Kneeling down slowly, carefully rubbing her hurt ankle when she sturdied herself, feeling the red bump and the prickly heat that jumped with every caress or step. Lips going tighter as she touched the pain, and seeing the spot, it still hasn't gotten smaller.
Spreading out the items keeping them away from the rags edges, rolled it up and tied the ends together into a tight knot before slipping her arm and head through. Keeping the heavy side in front, like a sling. Pushing up with her dominant foot, her right and also her damaged foot, a pained gasp about to leave her but she contained it behind sealed lips. Brows creasing as she lifted the heavy object. Up and standing repositioned the strap closer to her trap for more comfortability, unable to find a sweet spot. The baggage was just too heavy to have any comfort in holding so she left it as it currently was. One hand underneath to at least relieve some weight, the other already pushing out the door.
Finished with the last mouthful of soup, body twisting to see his mother haul herself out the door, soon disappearing behind it. Lingering for a quick moment, got out his seat and took his bowl and spoon with him to wash. Scooped water into his bowl and took it outside, Just as bright and active as before. Looking around he could easily spot his mum from the many other people on the street not far away. A tied grey rag hung around her with the knot digging into her back.
Squatting down again, scrubbing his fingers around the bowl and spoon. One last look at his mother's diminishing figure before rushing back into the house, dropping down his stuff on the table and brought a bucket next to the large water container he used to brush his teeth. Using his cup to scoop up water into its new home. One, two, four, ten, fourteen scoops and it was filled enough. Done so fast he could almost feel the sweat forming out his squishy body. Closing the lid this time, picked up the newly filled bucket and pulled it up with both his small arms, legs pushing up as best he could and back bent back a little to puff it up. Carrying it to door before he dropped it down slowly. Resting for a bit before pushing the door open and stretching to pick up the bucket again, the door stopped from closing by his butt. Hands on its handle, he readied to pull. And with one heave, he successfully moved it to the outside, over the door's threshold, close to landing on his toes, oopsies.
Waddling towards the alley, already warm from the exercise, the menacing stare of the sun was really going to make him sweat if he didn't hide quick enough under the coverings. But with the swishing of water throwing him off balance he could only waddle so fast.
Finally plotting it down at his brushing spot. Rolling up his trousers to kneel and pulled up his sleeves. Without other thoughts splashed the water onto his hair, first the front and then to the back. Water dripping down his face he had to close his eyes, with his head directly over the bucket it wasn't hard to get more water onto his hair.
Scrubbing his hair getting every part wet and ready but when he was about to reach out he had forgotten something again, the hair soap. Shaking his hair dry and wiping his face until he could open his eyes, a drop of water mixing into his eye which he palmed. Both eyes closed again waiting for the discomfort to go, opening his eyes too eagerly. The feeling gone he shook his hands and wiped his face again, shaking his hair one more time for good measure began walking back inside.
The warmth on his cooled hair from the midday sun invited him out of the shadows and onto the busy street. Inside, picking up a wooden jar, half empty, unscrewed the lid and poked a finger inside taking up some soap, enough to use. Jar back on the floor.
Using his unsoaped hand to screw the lid back on, the jar turning with the motion of the lid making it unable to secure the lid closed. A few more attempts later, pushing it down harder with the help of some childish groans, the lid popped into place.
Back to the bucket, wiping the dripping water on his forehead that flowed from his hair applied the soap which amount could only cover part of his head. Getting everything off, splashing water, he had forgotten something else. Shaking again to dry himself a little, before going inside to wipe off the water with his cloth, stepping on droplets from the previous enter and dripping more onto the floor. Also getting his clothes a little wet, especially his collar but it will dry away soon enough.
Releasing the towel from his face with a hefty "Pa!" Exhaling the breathe he held when rubbing his face and letting go of the last crumb of excitement from doing the task. But even then he was still happy, and it would last for a long time.
All dryed and back, he tilted the bucket until it toppled onto the already moist ground, water rushing out the top onto the soaked ground from current and the previous task not long ago. Picking it up to tilt it more, emptying it all out before bringing it back in.
With nothing else to do, done with chores and anything else to do and having nothing to do, there was only waiting to happen and he would do it patiently.
Out the doors, once again invited by the hotness of the sun that heated his cooled head, feeling it go pass the hair follicles to his damp scalp, hair falling infront of his face which he gathered up with both hands. Bringing to the back. Hair brushing past his hand, wetting it again after just drying them, only for some to fall back down again, tickling him. It was nice under the heat, sitting down where his mother was when she boiled the pot. A charred ruin which only the laughable smoke could retell its old glory. Hovering his hand over the dead flame, moving it about, feeling the lingering strength of the fire as heat hit his skin. Lightly sustained by the hot air.
Sat down knees close to his chest, unrolling his pants and thin sleeves. Studying the day and the many different people going past. Alot of the same figures that he was loosely familiar with but wasn't quite able to commit many of them into memory. One person he could remember though, without a doubt, still puffing smoke from his mouth, a funny looking wood pipe with a flickering flame in his hand.
The multiple thick lines of wrinkles and creases displayed his elderly age, opposite to his bigger body, hunched over but his cloths clung firm to his torso and arms. Larger than all the other grey hair oldies that he could see but not as large as the man next door to the smoker. Nearly three times as tall as himself with large bulging arms. Scary.
He would prefer to stay a safe distance away, the man was simply too menacing. Nearly as menacing as this shining sun.
Glaring it's hot eye down upon the child. Making him hot and aching but not enough to sweat, maybe the ache was something else. Switching positions from a tuck to stretched out legs, the ache poking bitterly at his legs and feet making his face squirm. Rerolling his cloths back up to relief some heat. Sliding himself to the wall behind him just chilling and cooling off. Playing with his legs, turning them left and right in synchronising, and then doing that slower and then moving them out of turn. Then flapping his feet back and forth, maybe if he did it fast enough he could fly.
'No way, im not a bird... yet.'
Tapping his toes together, tap tap tap. Boredom is when imagination goes wild and so. His shoes are fighting, waging a mean fight for stuff and things. Intrigued by the faint colour on his little shoes today also, a very light shade of blue that he could tell was paling away. Bringing the shoe closer, it's colour slightly more vibrant, still as spotless as it could be. Apart from the spots of grey from oil splashes which he couldn't scrub away. Trying again but the result was still the same, the grey spots were still there unmoving. Giving up the thought, continued resting and waiting.
Back into his home, back outside, stretching his legs, taking a short stroll around the premises and back to the same spot by the campfire. Anything to pass the time.
The sun still above and mighty, at least further down the watery sky than it used to be. Looking around and listening. The chatter was a nice past time, eavesdropping on the hearable conversations but of course, would keep his act a mystery, never ever moving a muscle to look in the direction of words or else... They would know.
Since the houses were so densely packed and with so many people near eachother talking, their was alot to listen to but also the need to focus if he wanted to hear something he wanted. So much noise around, the clanging of metals, the crowing of birds and many other loud shouts of other people that he didn't want to hear. So he needed to keep his ears keen, concentrating.
"When you coming back?" "Pass me the pot!" "HEYYY!" "When are y-" "Go buy some "KAWW!" -re this." "You eating that?" "HEYYYY!" "Bring it here." "I need a hammer here." "I heard about something like that." "Can't say I-" Someone's showering behind their house, water splattering out the house edge covering them. He's getting distracted. Concentration on something better and what else than~.
"Have you two made up yet?"
"Pfft, stop bringing it up. I couldn't even if I wanted to."
"Did you try though?"
"... no."
"... , Do you want to sort it out or not, you've been complaining so much to me that you feel bad but you dont do anything."
"Every time I walk up to him he turns around! And ignores me when i call out. How am I supposed to fix it if he doesn't want to?"
"Maybe brush your damn teeth. Damn man, get back. When was the last time you brushed??"
"... I ran out."
"So you didn't try to wash them at all?"
"What's the point if i dont got the paste?!"
"I would run from you also. Unbelievable."
Chuckling secretly, a smile had already formed from listening but it was just too funny to hold. The house next door was the best to listen, with these two or with others. Always having something fun to listen to. Continuing to listening after controlling himself until something else caught his attention. Catching the attention of most people on the street, but not with the same intensity nor as long as he and the other children playing in the street did. Some didn't seem to care.
Staring with swarming intrigue, interest, amazement, everything else was silently blocked off. Walking down the street with meaningful strides, taking steps with depthful force yet left any other track like anyone else. Smaller than the man triple the size of the child, but this figure was much larger, so much larger. A shadow cast upon their face by an unusually large hat, square brimed and positioned where one of its sharp points overlooked the person's face. And behind that shadow, a heart thrilling visage. Strong jawed where skin clung like velvet reaching a smooth, curved point. Face tanned, firm yet uncontending with their delecate definitions.
More identifiable as this striking figure neared. Even with the shadow, the bouncing daylight lit her face. Rosy lips, full cheeks and whole, dark brows. With a smooth, straight nose on her long, rich face. A body clad in a thin membrane of a white sleeved shirt revealing her skin below, knitted at her wrist. Torso, vitals covered by a simple tank top, something even he would sometimes wear.
But the most enthralling, two bright crimson scabbards fixed at her hips. Handles of wrapped leather extended out of short silver guards to a coined pommel that gleened in the sun. Secured to a light, silky pants of paled orange. Wrapped at the ankles by her matching-coloured shoes which ended well above to her calf. Thick strings slithered through the shoe's loops, circling and ending in a great butterfly knot at the top.
He couldn't look away, it was too mesmerising. Her powerful walk and the deep air around her was nothing he had ever seen or have ever known. Something so different from the daily, he couldn't help but stare like some other kids. Getting more and more profound as she moved closer to the sitting boy. Her frame clearer than dew and as robust as a rising sun.
"woww~" the breathe-iest gasp he had whispered unknowingly, hidden by the steet noise but caught by her. Casting an unlingering glance at the small child below before - Moving on. Though a very short interaction, he saw her eyes. The same colour as his, but on her - it was more than simple and higher than common.
Walking so close infact, as she stepped past him, if he just tipped his toe down he would've graced her fabric boot. But of course he didn't, neither did the thought cross his mind. Too awestruck to think so, focused on the figure as it came to view and out.
The packed surrounding coming back to its noisy row and back to squinting under the golden rays. A stunning event but a event can only last so long and after another period of waiting in switching positions, he felt like going somewhere and he knew exactly where.
Patting the dust and dirt away, stood up with a resounding 'bahdumm!', same pose as the hero in his bedtime story when he won against the scary beast, sword held high in triumphant victory. Thinking it in his head. He wouldn't actually do the pose in public, he's too grown up.
Going the same way his mother did and opposite to the square brimmed hat lady. At the end of his street where it split into two opposing path. The right where his mother turned or left to where ever. Two ways which he would not be choosing, instead, going straight ahead and through a crawling. A sizable hole edged by jagged teeth of broken wood of a basic fence.
Down on his knees creeping through cautiously avoiding the spikes, keeping his head low and checking the sides. Rubbing his knees as he got on his feet. Pass the fence between two buildings, meeting a narrowing path where the two buildings grew closer the further down the path went.
Not having much space, needing to turn his body sideways to get through the dangerous trail and to take even a few steps. Travelling onwards one sidestep at a time. Walls closing in leaving enough room to not touch both at once, not too confining.
Through the squeeze, a few more steps and he would need to take a turn. Another house infront and with the right way too skinny, he had to take a left and with one more turn to the right this time, pass broken shards of glass, hard scraps and wrecked objects he would be out. Needing to squeeze one last time, out between two different walls.
Popping out the secret tunnel, he still had a good walk to do before the destination. With determination and fire helped by the shining sun he would make it in not too long. Reaching the spot, a small crowd of people already looking at the lengthy display board. Paper and posters stuck onto it by a mess of wooden thumbtacks. The closest board to his home.
Their was another if he spent more time advancing to the center where the faraway castle was nearer, where the bright blue flags waved in the distance. Also fresher, having its contents more regularly replaced or added. Getting daily news and newly made posters. But this one made do today, maybe he'll go to the other tomorrow.
Ducking under the crowd's folded arms and swiftly shifting pass their obstructing legs until the board came to view, infront of everyone else. Still stuck with the same old pictures he had already seen before. Past events, menus, words, drawings, same-old-same-old. His interest diluted towards them scanned for something new and lo-and-behold, there actually was something recently placed on.
Centered on the board with a dazzling image. Tilting his head up as much as he could and pulling his body to its maximum length. Occasionally getting on his tippy toes to see it. Big, bright, shouting, a drawing of a meaty fist and an artisticly angular soles of a foot etched in black ink with splatters, speaking of its callous nature. With catching words written in bold red, tamely dripping. Reading...
Something.
Even though he could see the letters, the meaning was lost to him, needing someone to read them out for him.
"Martial tournament event, no weapons fists and kicks only, 32 spots at B3-blaze fair. Sign up before the 29th."
How lucky, the child's wish had been granted by a man behind him.
"One-wow, one thousand cash prize for number one spot. The other prizes for lower placed ain't bad either. You doing it? Im not sure your ego can handle another total annihilation."
Surprise heard in his voice leading to a joking tone for the other next to him. Repeating the question when he got the silent treatment.
"Are you?"
"Its more than last time. Can't hurt to try." Replying to the more serious, reiterated ask.
"It's gonna hurt" Said through a smirk. "Maybe get to top 10 this time."
A soft thump followed after.
"I could say the same for you."
Getting curious of the two men behind him turned around secretly, seeing two towering bodies over him beginning to walk away. Their arms showing out their plain shirts, gripping muscles rivaling the tall man on his street.
Focusing on the poster. That word martial must be the first word with the M, he knows what M is. And the next one is, finding it in his memory, "tor... torr..-nah~mAnt." A very long word and being able to say it correctly, made him very proud. Even if he knows the words, it doesn't mean he knows what it truly was. Martial tournament, he's never heard of it. Maybe the hat lady would be there?
And the prize, one thousand of something. Money? He was better with his numbers, counting to over his twenties, but that number was elusive to him, not understanding the true amount but he knew it must have been big, bigger than the pennies he held once and it had to be overflowing out his hands if he was holding it, weighing a super lot.
Blaze fair, the name was familiar, he's heard it sometime else before and it sounded fun, 'Blazzzze~'. And cool. He would also have loved to go see this fair but he didn't know where it was. Surveying for other interesting posters, finding another for a play with a black background, words written with connecting letters of dirty yellow, he's seen many of this same poster before. And after one more scan of the new things he couldn't read or too high to see, it was time to go back home. The crowd swapped from the one before to a smaller, different group of people as he spent his time admiring the pictures.
Sun further down the blue above and shrouded behind a vast spread of solid clouding. Hindering the shine down and no longer supplying a steady stream of heat. Unfurrowed his cloths and went back to his street after some dentures. Taking turns and shimmying through the narrow passage and under the spiky crawlspace. Safely back sitting on the same place and still surrounded by the dense rattle of voices and movement. Leaning against the wall, turning and looking, enjoying the afternoon ambience. Seeking more for something fun to see or listen to.