Chapter 7- What have you done?

It has been two weeks since Wilson got to Forest City. He had not seen Dale throughout those two weeks. Dale got and paid for a room for Wilson in a moderately inn and told him to keep training in preparation for the tournament. Wilson was given enough money to last a month. He bought new clothing to blend in as a commoner in the city.

"I will be back in a few weeks before the tournament begins!" He remembered Dale telling him the last time he saw him. He made no friends and did not socialize. He was here with a goal in mind, not for trivial matters like; 'Hi, nice to meet you….' and stuff related to all that unnecessary nonsense. Wouldn't it be better if he spent all that time exercising in order to stay in shape and improving on the few moves he knew? Basically throwing punches, kicks, grapples and tosses and body slams. He had seen a school for martial arts with students his age flooding into the space everyday. He really wanted to join but did not have enough money to spare. He was saddened by the idea but like his mother said, 'you don't need anyone's help. Learn to do things yourself.'

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"Oh my! Look at you...you are a lot muscular than you were two weeks ago. You've even grown slightly taller as well! Somebody has been training a lot!" These were the first words that came out of Dale's mouth when he returned. He came back to tell him that the competition was starting in three days. Dale took him out on a stroll so they could catch up. Wilson was surprised! They had never spoken much to each other before! Dale had even forgotten about him countless times through their journey making him wonder how he did business successfully if he was this forgetful.

They walked for a long time through many streets in a sightseeing sort of way. They mostly talked about Dale's exploits and business risks and endeavours throughout these two weeks. Wilson had very little to say. He didn't go out much and mostly stayed in the room. He only went out to eat lunch and dinner. He was not really into breakfasts. He did notice some girls staring at him and giggling, some shyly and some boldly. Why? He had no idea. Maybe, they thought he looked funny. Dale laughed when he heard him talking about it. He looked at Wilson and saw him looking forward with a confused expression. He took in Wilson's features. Tall, lean, muscular with black hair and blue eyes that you would not notice were blue unless you looked closely. He was always wearing his heavy, grey gauntlets like they were simply gloves. He looked like a celebrity hunter from one of those hunting shows that people drooled over.

'This boy is clueless.' He thought to himself as he smiled at how naïve this boy really was.

"Move away! Get out of the way!" A voice shouted out loud from afar. People immediately ran away from the road. Many of them were resting their backs on the wall while some entered the nearest shop, inn or restaurant. Dale dragged Wilson into a nearby shop by their left that sold flowers and tea. Wilson was confused but before he could say anything, Dale warned him.

"Shhhhhh! Keep quiet! That is the most power drunk son of the most power drunk family in this district. They are extremely powerful and extremely heartless. Whenever this particular son passes, a single sound could mean your death!" Wilson was shocked. That does not even make sense! Was this how commoners were treated?

"Is this how the rich city people act?" Wilson asked.

"No, of course not! But the good ones are few are not powerful enough to curb this habits and behaviours. They are also maltreated by the rich greedy and wicked ones. Although they cannot be touched due to the king's orders, they can still be treated like commoners and don't have many rights unlike the very rich ones. One thing you should know, young boy, is that money can do anything. Especially in a society like this. By the way, these rich people are referred to as nobles." Dale explained as he kept his head lower to the ground and told Wilson to do the same.

The men finally got to the front of the shop. As they passed by, Wilson could not help but notice them. A thin short boy of not more than thirteen years walked in front. Three muscular middle-aged men with scary looks that sent shivers down your spine were positioned to his left, right and behind him. Then there was this other boy that ran way ahead of them shouting to people to clear the way.

After they had passed without any occurrences, the people flocked back into the road and continued as if there was nothing that happened earlier. A young boy standing beside his fifteen year old sister spoke out.

"Look at him... so thin. Makes me think of a stick insect." He said as he glared at the path the noble had taken.

"Shhhhh, you will get in trouble if he hears!" His sister warned him.

"Too late, I already heard!!" The young and thin noble said.

"Eek!" The sister jumped and trembled in fear from the closeness of the son of the fifth most powerful and also the most hated in the country. She thought, no…they all thought that he was long gone. When did he get back here? They asked themselves.

"I…..I'm sorry, my lord. Please, forgive my brother he is young and stupid and knows nothing! She said, bowing down multiple times, shivering in fear.

"Oh really!! Then I will just have to teach him!" The noble son said with a devilish smile and waved his hands in the air. Ten seconds later, the boy was hanging upside down from a nearby tree. His hands were tied together by a rope that extended towards one of those middle-aged men who held it tightly. His legs were also tied by another rope and was further tied to the tree's branch in an unbreakable knot.

"Whip him fifty times!" The boy said without blinking and with his devilish smile still on his face.

"How heartless!" Wilson blurted out those words with a look of contempt showing clearly on his face. The noble's son quickly glanced around and spotted Wilson glaring at him. The two men that were to whip the little boy quickly ran at Wilson and before he could do anything, he was grabbed by this and dragged towards the heartless noble. He was then forced to kneel.

"What did you just say to me" The boy asked. Wilson said nothing and was spat on by the boy.

'This Twelve to thirteen year old spoilt brat spat on my face!' Was all Wilson could think about. The small boy continued to speak but he could not hear any of it. He remembered his mother's voice telling him that 'You are of the Wilder lineage. The Wilders will never allow themselves to be disrespected and disgraced. No matter how poor or impoverished they might be, they will always fight for their honor! YOU are a Wilder. You must not allow some idiot to disrespect you in your life. You should always fight back and protect your honor!' As he stopped thinking about this, he realized that the boy had been insulting and striking him. He felt his face sting from a slap. He unexpectedly stood up and before the boy's men could act, he struck this disrespectful, despicable and heartless little kid so hard in the face that he flew away, crashing into a restaurant through glass window. One of the three guards ran to help his master while the other two men pounced on him and beat him up. Punches and kicks flew to various parts of his body. They beat him till he bled all over. They beat him till he spewed blood from his mouth endlessly. They beat him till he lost consciousness from all the pain and blood loss. But not once did his smile leave his face. He had defended his honor. He was a Wilder afterall.

The men left him for dead and the people flocked back into the street again, surrounding him and Dale who held his bloody villager in his hands.

"You this stupid naïve village boy! What did you do? Why...Why did you speak up? I told you to stay low and keep your mouth shut! Look at you! This is what I always warned you about! Don't interfere with other people's matters! But you did...you did, and now, you….you….you are dead!" Dale cried and lamented while looking at the Wilson's limp, bloody body.

He worried about what he would tell the people expecting Wilson's success story in the village. What would he tell them? What would tell Wilson's mother? That her son got to the city and died before he could even attempt to get into the academy? He was too confused and his frustration continued to build up as he sat on the tarred street road and cried.

"If you don't mind me speaking up, I think he might still be alive!" Dale looked up with such speed that his neck nearly snapped.