Eldron

I was five when the stranger with golden eyes that resembled a reptiles came to our village. The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows over the thatched roofs, as I lugged a pail of water from the well. The villagers, as usual, paid me no mind, their whispers and sidelong glances as familiar as the weight of the bucket in my small hands.

That's when I saw him—a tall figure draped in a cloak the color of midnight, standing at the edge of the village square. His eyes, a striking shade of gold, scanned the surroundings like a Hunter before settling on me. A shiver ran down my spine, but I couldn't look away.

I hesitated, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed him, but the villagers continued with their routines, oblivious. Taking a deep breath, I approached, the pail sloshing water onto my bare feet.

"Ho there, lad!" The jovial voice rang out.

Eldron saw the man approaching, his cloak billowing with each confident stride. Sunlight caught the man's eyes, revealing an uncanny golden hue. A broad smile split his face, exuding warmth and mischief.

"What's your name?" he asked, crouching to meet my gaze.

"Eldron," I replied, clutching the barrel tighter. "Eldron of the outskirts."

"Well Eldron of the outskirts, That's quite the load for someone your size," the stranger remarked, nodding toward the barrel.

Eldron shrugged, wiping sweat from his brow. "Someone's gotta do it."

The man chuckled, a rich, infectious sound that drew glances from nearby villagers. "Name's Garrick. I'm looking for your village chief. Got some business to discuss." He produced a crumpled parchment, the edges worn. Unfurling it, he revealed a detailed sketch of a grotesque creature, fangs bared and eyes wild.

Eldron's eyes widened at the sight. "You're a Huntsman?"

Garrick winked, tucking the poster away. "Among other things. So, where might I find this chief of yours?"

Eldron gestured toward a modest hut near the center of the village. "He's usually in there."

"Much obliged," Garrick said, clapping a hand on Eldron's shoulder. "And keep up the good work. Getting water is an important task and your right someone has to."

He studied me for a moment, his golden eyes seeming to pierce through me. "Eldron, do you know what spiritiqualias is?"

I shook my head. The term was unfamiliar, like most things beyond the boundaries of our village.

He smiled faintly. "It's a special energy, rare and powerful. And you, young one, have an abundance of it."

I blinked, unsure how to respond. The villagers had always called me strange, a freak, but no one had ever mentioned this energy.

"In time," he continued, standing up, "you'll understand. But for now, be cautious. There are those who would seek to exploit your gift."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me with more questions than answers. As Eldron watched Garrick's retreating figure, a flicker of hope ignited within him, mingling with the lingering sense of otherness that had always marked his existence.

As Eldron watched Garrick stride toward the village chief's hut, a sudden, sharp kick landed between his shoulder blades. He stumbled forward, the heavy barrels slipping from his grasp and crashing to the ground, water gushing over his feet. Turning, he faced Jeb, the burly miller who had sent him for the water.

"Took you long enough, you little wretch," Jeb sneered, his breath reeking of stale ale. "And now look at the mess you've made." He laughed, a harsh, grating sound that drew the attention of a few passersby, though none intervened.

Eldron clenched his fists, the sting of humiliation burning hotter than the ache in his back. But he kept his gaze lowered, knowing any retort would only earn him more trouble.

"If you want your pay, you'd better clean this up and fetch more water," Jeb barked, turning on his heel. "And be quick about it!" With that, he sauntered away, still chuckling to himself.

Taking a deep breath, Eldron righted the barrels, his young muscles straining under their weight. As he made his way back to the well, he couldn't help but steal a glance toward Garrick, now deep in conversation with a local stall vendor arguaning over some meat on a stick. A flicker of hope sparked within him, a silent wish for a life beyond the daily drudgery and disdain.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the village, Eldron hurriedly refilled the barrels at the well, his young muscles straining under the weight. The encounter with Garrick lingered in his mind, a spark of curiosity ignited by the stranger's presence.