Adam - Stones from the sky

Everyone was silent as Adam walked up to the barbarian and pulled out the coin from where the brute had recently kept it. There, in addition to the four pieces of wood, enough to buy two beers, a bag with what seemed to be metal coins occupied the space. Adam stowed the bag and the coins, then in a single pull, he pulled the sword from the barbarian's chest. The man's eyes were fixed ahead, unmoving, with an empty and distant expression. As the sword was removed, dark blood spurted from the wound and the man's body fell to the side. Adam stepped over him, opened the door, and closed it behind him. The street was deserted and muddy, a few people sought shelter under the nearby roofs, but only the puddles in the middle of the road moved with the raindrops. Adam could smell the beer on himself; that rain had come at just the right time. The young man sheathed his sword, which had returned to its natural dark blue-solid state, and walked away under the rain.

The cold drops fell like little stones from the sky, hard and stinging, but comforting. The scent of beer faded as that little episode became a thing of the past. It wasn't the first time Adam lost control of his body. It was as if he exploded suddenly; from one second to the next, his nerves tightened and ached. The young man only found relief when he released the tension, and the quickest way for that to happen was through fighting. His right hand was stained and covered in scars from the time when the only thing to do was punch a rock or a tree, the old pressures of adolescence... The storm seemed to grow stronger as Adam began to walk down the dirt road; the wind became fiercer and the sky darker.

"Hey, kid!" – A voice nearby shouted. – "Get out of this rain, come take shelter!" The one yelling was a tall, strong old man who was protecting the windows of his lodging with wooden boards.

Adam knew he shouldn't stay in the city for too long, but night was approaching and the cold had already settled upon him. Wiping the excess water from his face, he took shelter on the veranda roof of the old man.

"You're very kind, sir." – The boy pushed his wet bangs back behind his head.

"That sheath, where did you get it?" The old man wore a leather belt loaded with nails and other tools around his waist, holding a hammer in his right hand and two boards in his left under his arm. "You're too young to be a member of the royal army."

"And I'm also a bit far from the capital." The boy replied. The old man chuckled in a sort of snort. "My father, he left it to me as an inheritance, along with the sword."

The old man's eyes narrowed.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. I would never let someone with military blood freeze in the rain. Do you have a place to spend the night, kid?"

"I was actually looking for one just now."

The smile returned to the old man's face.

"In that case, call me Dionysius." The man dropped the hammer onto his belt and extended his hand in greeting. The boy did the same.

"I'm Adam." A firm handshake concluded the introductions.

"Very well, I have plenty of vacant rooms. Come in, the fireplace in the living room is on the left. I need to store these things away first!"