The Ruler

The Blackstone Inn was a two-storey timber and brick building, with a reinforced wooden door and unusually high ceilings. Accomodations consisted of a mezzanine with several wooden cots. The inn was locally known for the variety of its beers and ales. After entering the inn through the rear door and heading toward the front common room, Martin eyes roved over every inch of the estabalishment, resting on each individual momentarily.

One might even mistake him for a cautious man if only he did not have the look of child-like fascination in his eyes that said otherwise.

His actions that reeked of a country bumpkin told a lot about him, enough for all present in here, be it adventurers, mercenaries, or drunkards, to know that he was not worthy of their attention.

He went to the counter and politely asked the counterman, "Hello, Mister! Could you tell me how do I register as an adventurer?"

The counterman was lean with brown hair peeking from under his helm and had a wiry mustache.

He looked up and was surprised after seeing the boy's masculine body, but that surprise only lasted for a moment.

Afterwards, he shook his head and said, "You better give up on that fantasy of yours, lad. Although you have a strong body for your age, but that won't be of any help to you. I have seen a lot of brats like you who overestimate their abilities, but then are preyed upon by the cruelties of the wild."

"But I won't know unless I try," the boy replied with a determination look on his face.

"Every boy who comes here says that, but most do not live to regret it," the counterman said in a deep voice.

Although Martin felt sullen after hearing the man say this, but he still wasn't willing to give up yet. He exited the inn in search of the Adventurer Guild.

The counterman was disappointed after seeing him pay no heed to his considerate advise, but he wasn't surprised at the boy's action.

"Ah, the foolishness of the young would never change, no matter what era it may be," he said with a sigh and went back to his work.

☯☯☯☯

'Why?! Why won't they give me a chance?!' Martin asked himself whilst clenching his fists tightly. He had visited the Adventurer's and asked for the registration form.

But he was firmly rejected after he told them he knew next to nothing when it came to using weapons nor he did have any knack for something.

Though he told them he had ample experience of cutting wood by axe, but they replied by saying that no team would accept someone like him into their ranks.

Since young, Martin has always been fascinated by the tales of heroes and dreamed about becoming one himself.

He wanted to be the knight in shining armor; he wished to marry a princess and live happily after. Sadly, reality was quite different from what he had expected. Again and again, he was taught how difficult it was to become an adventurer much less a hero.

"Hey, did you hear how Luther got killed after accidentally drinking his Nitah's piss (a rhinoceros-like creature whose excretion is very acidic) ?" A rowdy bunch of adventurers could be seen discussing heatedly in the corner of the inn.

"Buhahaha, yeah. Pitifull fellow, he was!"

"Oh, and by the way, I heard Baron Monward's mother is about to visit him after not seeing him for ten whole years?" Asked one of them in a voice filled with curiosity.

"Yeah, I heard they previously had some arguments, but as you can guess, time can melt even the hardest of hearts." A robust adventurer replied with a low voice.

Martin was listening to their conversions when he heard the sound of someone sitting in front of him. He looked up and saw a young man sitting ahead of him.

The young man had sky blue eyes ( an uncommon trait in the Kingdom of Cierith), short blonde hair, and an aura of mystery surrounding him.

Though before he could say anything, the young man stood up and performed a shallow court bow and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Martin. My name is Malazan Bournsurn. Though I am aware that you are surprised by this sudden introduction, but please let us sit first, so that we can get better acquainted, and perhaps I can allay some of your doubts."

Martin was momentarily taken aback by the young man's uncommonly good manners, and couldn't help but think that the man in front of him was a stud.

"Err...Mister Malazan."

"Please call me Malazan," the man replied with an amiable smile. "Alright, Malazan. Could you please tell me how do you know my name?" Asked Martin cautiously. He did not remember ever seeing this young man much less introducing himself.

"Hmm, I heard it when you were introducing yourself at the Adventurer's Guild."

"I see," replied Martin understandingly.

But immediately afterwards, his face started to heat up from embarrassment after knowing that Malazan had witnessed the scene of him being kicked out of the Adventurer's Guild.

As if understanding that he was starting to feel uncomfortable, Malazan changed the topic with an abrupt question, "Martin, tell me something; do you want to earn money and become famous?"

Martin was astounded at the suddenness of the question, but he honestly replied, "Yes, I do. I mean who wouldn't want such a thing?"

Now that he thought about it, his situation was not good at all. He had already spent all the money he had earned from last year's harvest (yes, he is or rather was a farmer). Calling him broke would be an understatement; his situation wasn't much different from that of a beggars.

"Excellent! Now tell me, if I said that I can offer you a job that can help you accomplish your wish, would you take it?" Asked Malazan with a mysterious smile on his face. Suddenly, Martin felt like he was being trapped in a cage of web.

"Yes, I would take it!" He didn't have much of a choice. He was in a pretty desperate situation and would definitely not let a job like that slip by even if it was a scam.

"Good, let us meet at the inn's stables tomorrow, then."

"Wait! Where are you going?! And won't you even tell what kind of job I am going to be doing?" Martin asked hurriedly.

"You will only find that out tomorrow, my friend," his voice resounded in Martin's ears as he quickly exited the inn.

☯☯☯☯

Well then, that was a breeze.

"You shouldn't trust a person like me so easily, friend." I had effortlessly conquered this youngster who appeared to be around 19 year old.

I had merely shown him respect moderately, but he got excited on his own and crossed over willingly. It was so easy that it was ridiculous. Was it thanks to my talent, or was it because the fellow was excessively pure as a farmer...? Of course, the answer was because I was talented.

I knew that very well. If I ever spoke modestly then it was simply because of etiquette. Would he really come, you ask? Of course he would. Boys like him are always wishing of earning fame and money while only putting little to no effort into accomplishing it.

Ah, tomorrow sure is going to be one heck of a hectic day. I can feel that.