They Called Me FIVE

LANCE

I looked down at the pile of pens rattling in the floor. Lista tossed them aside, seeing he doesn't need any of them. I peered at it. Once I saw one blink out of existence. Figured it was just my eyes playing tricks on me, I gawked at the others.

I couldn't mistake how one by one evaporates in thin air or got swooshed by the wind and boom. Gone. Poof. This was blessing. I swallowed hard. Lista was able to make pens danced and shoot like knives at me by his 'blessing'.

Which was better? Mine or his? Observers will say mine because it can destroy enemies by touch.. Yet, the chosen Eklektos slash useless wielder me, deems this power useless. I can't protect anyone with this. I don't know how I'll play hero like Thor with his lightning hammer to save the day. Nor become Horus with his shining shimmering all knowing eyes. I'm probably the villain that rob banks and got his brains spilled by reckless security guards.

Heck, I adamantly can't play the villain part. I'd rather be a bystander watching heroes do all the fighting while I stuffed myself with pizza in sausage mushroom and pepperoni flavors. 

I reckon I look like a lanky battered idiot whose hair was wet from recent shower but the body smells like a homebody quack who prefers to get holed up inside their room with no food or bath for weeks. 

I kicked on the nearest battered wooden chair I could find and sat. The plank supporting my butt creak. And I stiffen for a second. Maybe it can't carry my weight. Maybe another twitch and I'll have my ass kiss the virgin floor. 

"I didn't do any of that sort Lista. Me and Steve along with the others found you. We are neither Rankers but we're pretty much skilled in swinging our traps for baby beasts." Dad said. Lista laughed. 

"Yeah, and I remembered you sell them in the black market. Nobles has that sort of sick hobbies of taking in beasts as pets." 

"Yea, though it works out fine for us. If it weren't for that, can we survive living under the dying economy of Capricorn Kingdom?" 

"That too. Guess it wasn't bad after all. I wonder how they're doing now? It's been a long time since we heard any news from them. I still remember how we fool around the Porn Slums, along the east side of the Barren city. Beating up crooked merchants who sell rusted Xiphos  and Ballista for poor hunters and –"

I shifted my attention to the fire crackling at the furnace, listening to the logs slowly burn into ashes. If there are any conversations I hate to listen, it was this. You might say, 'Hey, they're having a good time reminiscing the past, nothing's bad about that.'

No need to tell me, I know. And it's because I know I get extremely cranky – and maybe a bit jealous. 

I did tell you I kept changing schools right? Which means I don't get to have friends. And that's exactly the reason why I hate taking part on casual talks between old pals like this. Because I know I don't have anyone I can talk fondly about my childhood. 

Like how two college student who met after two or three years converse their immature ways as kids. Ditching classes, breaking school stuff, detentions… I have no fond memory of those. 

Any little misshap and Dad will pack our bags. Another thirty minutes and we're out of town. Heading to another state. No goodbyes, no teary eyed 'I promise I'll come back for you' speech. I didn't get to know cute girls, or attend school festivals, halloween parties or proms. I didn't get to exact my revenge to seniors who loves to bash my head in toilet bowls or retrieve the money I spent buying their exclusive snacks of sodas and chips.

"Lance?" 

I wonder how life was like for normal kids my age? Just to get up each day without being battered by morning trainings, having shower, food already prepared in the table, everything you need are put ready by a Mom, you only need to kiss her goodbye and raced the streets, letting the wind whipped your hair, freedom encasing you in its threshold. 

"Lance!"  I snapped my head into Dad's face. He's not annoyed I didn't bother listening to them speak. Just confused why I'm mooning over the furnace. Before I know it, my hand is already outstretch, hovering the flame, feeling no heat. 

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?" 

"Uh.." I tuck my palm back to my leg and pat. "Just wondering who's the hottest in this room. Me or the flame?" 

They stared at me. 

"Nevermind. What were you saying again?" 

"Lista and I have discuss that while we are training you, you also need to fulfill your duties as a high school kid." Dad said.

"Which should be obvious enough."  Lista butted in. I raised my eyebrow.

"And that means…?

"School." I didn't mean to, but I slap my leg when Dad said that word. 

"It would surely garner suspicions if you get out of town and people see you at school hour loitering the side streets. Believe me, the neighbors are very particular to this child have rights to go to school and other human rights stuff," Lista explained.

I swallowed the urge to roll my eyes and stick to cursing the fire in the furnace. Like why it couldn't raise the temperature, when its supposed to 'give off heat'. Useless pile of orange shizt, the logs are wasted. And I'm punished because fire sucks at his job in keeping all three of us warm.

"And then what? We move to another state again and I go to another school?" That came out harsher than I mean to. But that doesn't stop my outburst.

"Dad, don't you get tired of all this mess? I really can't see the reason why we keep moving –"

"I told you, it's to keep you safe –"

"Then what are you training me for? What am I getting battered and bruised for? Was all of it just another freak show for you?"

"No!" Dad shouted, his body leaning forward from his seat.

"Then what? And please don't tell me another pointless reason like 'I'm doing this to keep you safe.' Because as far as I can see, neither the training nor the constant moving helps from keeping the Faeries to know our whereabouts. You're here aren't you? You and your good old pal here, who knows maybe one of you brought something planted by Faeries to track of us down." 

I didn't let them explain their side. I know experienced adults like them have thought this possibility and has taken precautions but whatever. I'm pissed. I left them by themselves. I head back upstairs, entered the room right across where I slept last night and slammed the door. 

I didn't know the room I entered was not a bedroom in fact, it's a weaponry room. Swords in different sizes are clustered on the wall, along with spears, bows, staff with a head carving of a gryphon. 

But the thing that caught my interest, is the small silver sword that gleams in the light. I feel like I've seen this one before. Someone who held and swing two of them with expertise…someone…

Magnus?