I never thought I would like fishing. Tigo introduced it to me once I had recovered. For the past month, while I lived with him, we went fishing every day. Tigo would wake me up early in the morning, and we'd rush to the river flowing on the west side of town. We'd sit all day under the thick shade of an old oak tree. The green grass brushes against our backs as we wait for a fish to catch the bait. Tigo often shares stories of his past. He used to be a trader when he was younger—or so he says—but a man like him probably has more stories than he's willing to tell.
When I first heard of fishing, I didn't like it. I thought it would be boring and repetitive, just sitting around all day with a rod, wondering if I'd catch anything. But fishing has its charm. It's far better than sweating under the sun, farming. And there's a thrill when you finally catch something.
I caught a small fish a week ago—my first time. It had been so long since I felt that happy. The fire that burned inside me could have set the whole riverbank alight. Tigo was proud of me, almost like a father would be. And that fish—how delicious it was. I ate it so fast, I left Tigo with only the head.
Tigo isn't the only storyteller by the river. There's a man even older than Tigo who tells tales of his youth, like when he and his friends visited the old capital to watch a gladiator tournament. He described the marble arena and fearless warriors bathing in blood. Tigo warned me that fishermen often exaggerate their stories, making them more colorful or simply making them up entirely. But even if they're just tales, they make the hours pass quickly.
Tigo also showed me around town. Nirip is breathtaking. The town stretches down a tall hill and continues all the way to the far golden plains. Nirip, also known as the Stone Town, is divided into two parts: Lower and Upper. The lower part, where I live with Tigo, is home to most of the people. Stone houses encircle a massive paved town square. The square also hosts the bazaar, filled with unique shops. My entire village could probably fit within it.
The upper part sits atop the town's hill, surrounded by a five-meter-high stone wall. Atop this wall rests a large fortress with no windows. Tigo told me that inside the fortress lives a nobleman named Renzou, the one who governs the south. Tigo said he was once a warrior like no other, the commander of the Iron Hooves, and one of the Emperor's most loyal servants. They say he's the backbone of the Empire, and in his prime, he was considered the strongest.
But could he defeat that monster?
Living with Tigo this past month has been surprisingly pleasant. Now, I sit with him on the riverbank, fishing once more. The scorching sun is kept at bay by the tree's thick canopy. Tigo lies on his back, completely ignoring his fishing rod, leaving me to watch over it. He's crossed his legs and closed his wrinkled eyes.
"Eric…" he murmurs, opening one eye and glancing at me. "Did you know that when I was younger, I had long golden hair? Just like yours."
"Really?" I say playfully, stretching into a smile. "Maybe you were as handsome as me too?"
"I was quite popular with the girls," he chuckles, gazing at the distant clouds. "Fell in love…"
"Tell me about it," I say, leaning in with curiosity.
"She was beautiful," he says softly. "Her skin was so gentle. Brown hair, wild in the wind. A smile that could warm your heart. She was clever… She was perfect."
"Did you marry her?" I ask.
"I did. Our wedding was bright and colorful. The music was so loud, yet when she spoke, I could only hear her. We lived in the capital. We had a—" He cuts himself off, rising to his feet and turning away from the river. "That reminds me. I have a present for you, Eric."
"A present?"
"You're leaving tomorrow, so I thought I'd make a little gift for you. The journey to the capital is long and dangerous," he says, looking at me, a tight smile on his face. "You might forget about me, so I want to give you something to remember me by."
Even if it was only a month, I could never forget him. He saved me. Gave me a roof over my head.
He leaves for his home, wishing me good luck with the two fishing rods. I almost forgot I'm leaving tomorrow. The time I spent here, fishing and living with Tigo, has truly bonded us. He was like a guardian to me this past month, not letting any harm come my way. This short month went by so fast. I feel a pang of sadness. Tomorrow, I'll depart with a group of traders. Tigo arranged for me to travel with them. I want to stay here. I don't want to leave, but I have to. For my family. To get revenge.
For me.
When Tigo finally returns, he carries a long, wrapped object with both hands. It's wrapped in old black cloth and looks quite heavy.
"Did you catch anything while I was gone?" he asks, kneeling beside me.
"Only the flow…" I say with a laugh.
He rests the object on his other knee, his smile fading. "Eric," he says, unwrapping the black cloth. "This is for you."
The cloth reveals a long white sword, untouched and pristine, with hawks carved into the handle. The edge is so sharp it feels like it could slice the air itself.
"A sword?" I ask, mesmerized. The blade reflects the blue sky. The guard is made of black obsidian, smooth and cool.
"Not just a sword," he says, looking at me. "My sword. It was given to me by my father, and his father before him. It was given to me when I first journeyed north. Now I give it to you."
The sword is more than just a gift. It's an invitation. He sees me as his son. Did this month really bond us so much? Am I his son now?
"But it's your father's," I say, my voice trembling. "You can't give it away."
"I can, and I will," he insists, standing up and holding the sword out to me. "The journey north is hard and unforgiving. Many have died thinking themselves invincible. This sword will be your shield. I saved you once; let me do it again. Let this sword remind you of the great times we spent fishing."
He smiles, tilting his head. His eyes point toward the sword, urging me to take it. The black hawks on the handle seem to stare back at me, filling me with a strange sense of longing. I brush my fingers against the edge, and a small cut on my finger releases a drop of blood. It's as if pride courses through me, a pride I've never felt before. The blade reflects my eyes, burning with determination.
I break into a wide smile and take the sword. I look at Tigo.
"Thank you."