"Leonotis!"
Leonotis jolted awake, the lingering echoes of a vivid dream fading from his mind. It was the first dream he'd truly remembered since awakening in this village six months ago—a forest, he recalled, vast and ancient. He tried to hold onto the images, but the insistent call came again.
"Leonotis, breakfast is ready!"
He scrambled out of bed, knowing a third summons would bring trouble. He dressed quickly in a white V-neck and black shorts, raked his orange hair into a high top, and hurried to the table.
"Good morning, Chinakah," he said, sliding into a seat.
"I made you plenty of—Hey, slow down!" Chinakah exclaimed, but Leonotis was already halfway through his breakfast. He was late for his training session with Gethii. He jumped up, hugged Chinakah, and darted out the door, grabbing his trusty tree-branch sword on the way.
Gethii was waiting by the clinic gate. "Oh, you actually made it," he said dryly.
"Yes, Master. Sorry I'm late. I'm ready for my lesson," Leonotis said, a little breathless.
"For being late, you'll run double. Now, do your circuit," Gethii ordered.
Leonotis stretched quickly and began his run. Chinakah walked to Gethii, leaning against the gate. "How's the training going?" she asked.
"That kid is not normal," Gethii sighed. "He's getting faster and stronger every day."
"You've had him running five laps around the village every morning for the last three months."
"No, I doubled it last week, just so we'd have time to talk," Gethii complained. "And he's absorbed all the basic combat skills. When he asked me to train him I assumed he'd give up after a day or two. It's been six months now. I'm running out of things to teach him."
Chinakah laughed but then turned serious, "Gethii, any word from the king?"
"No, no new orders since they dismissed me from the Kingsguard. Let's face it, the new king has no need for a one-armed soldier. How about you?"
"Yeah, nothing for me either. With how bloody the coup was, I doubt there's anyone there left that even remembers we're out here. Not that I really mind. It's nice to relax and work in the clinic," Chinakah said, settling in beside Gethii.
"Taking care of Leonotis is another full-time job," Gethii said. "It's all temporary, though. One day, we'll either be called back or he'll get his memory back."
"I know, I know. These months have been good. Let's just enjoy this time together while we can." Chinakah leaned on Gethii and quietly reflecting on their peaceful life.
The rhythmic slap of Leonotis's worn boots on the packed earth echoed slightly in the cool morning air. Mist still clung to the thatched roofs of the village houses, and the scent of bread mingled with damp soil. He rounded the corner by the baker's, offering a wide grin and a wave. Old Mrs. Kunau, leaning on her broom in her doorway, paused her sweeping. Her lips, usually set in a firm line, twitched upwards at the corners, and she gave a short, stiff nod. "Morning," she rasped, the word barely audible. Leonotis's grin widened. A few months ago, she would have just squinted suspiciously. Further down, Nsheri the fletcher looked up from sorting arrow shafts, grunted something that might have been a greeting, and went back to his work. Progress. As he passed the marketplace, a crate of apples tumbled from a vendor's unsteady stack. Without breaking stride, Leonotis scooped up the rolling fruit, depositing them back into the flustered vendor's arms with a quick, "Careful there!" before continuing his run. The vendor stared after him, mouth slightly open. But not everyone met his gaze. By the smithy, Mzeem stopped hammering, the sudden silence loud. As Leonotis approached, the blacksmith turned his broad back pointedly, examining a horseshoe with intense focus. Leonotis's pace didn't falter, though the easy smile tightened for just a breath before relaxing again. Then he saw Mr. Wanjau, standing motionless by his gatepost, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His face was granite. Leonotis raised a hand, a cheerful, "Morning, Mr. Wanjau!" The man didn't respond. His eyes, hard and accusing, followed Leonotis's every step as he ran past. Leonotis's gaze flickered involuntarily towards the empty patch of worn grass near Wanjau's porch, remembering the frantic accusations, the posters for a lost dog named Pip nailed to the village notice board. Still blames me. A knot tightened briefly in Leonotis's stomach. He forced his eyes forward, focusing on the path ahead, hoping with a fierce, silent plea that wherever Pip had wandered off to over six months ago, he'd had nothing to do with the dog's disappearance.
Leonotis was eager for his training with Gethii today. Gethii had said they would investigate the demon sightings reported near the village's protection shrine. He was excited to use his sword skills for something truly helpful. Then everyone would see he was different, even Mr. Wanjau.
Finally, Leonotis finished his run and met Gethii, who opened the clinic door as he approached.
"Finished your run?"
"Yes, Master Gethii."
"Was that even an hour? Alright, well, drink this. We've got a demon to find," Gethii said, tossing Leonotis a water bottle.
"Wait, I have to get something from my room," Leonotis said, running into the clinic to his room.
The morning sun slanted through the windows of the clinic, illuminating Leonotis as he meticulously draped a length of roughspun cloth over his t-shirt and shorts. He'd managed to secure it at the shoulder with a crudely fashioned bone clasp, attempting a look that was somewhere between "noble warrior" and "slightly disheveled laundry accident."
Gethii, who was adjusting his own, considerably more authentic-looking, warrior's toga (worn with a distinct air of someone who'd been doing this for decades), paused, his brow arching slightly.
"And what, precisely, is that you're wearing, Leonotis?" Gethii asked, his voice carefully trying to hide a laugh, though a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
Leonotis puffed out his chest, adjusting the folds of the cloth. "It's my battle attire! A warrior's… uh… toga! For facing the fearsome fox demon!" He struck a dramatic pose.
Gethii blinked slowly. "A toga. Over your… 'fearsome' shirt and those shorts that appear to be held together by sheer willpower?"
"It adds… gravitas!" Leonotis insisted, his voice a little less certain now under Gethii's scrutiny. "And… and it's traditional! You wear one!" He gestured to Gethii's own expertly draped garment.
"Indeed I do," Gethii replied. "Mine is made of sturdy, demon-hide fabric as strong as chainmail and is secured with actual, talisman clasps made by the Mmoatia. Yours appears to be… a repurposed bedsheet that could fall off at any moment."
"It's… secure! I already tested it!" Leonotis countered, demonstrating with a sudden lunge that nearly sent him sprawling.
Gethii sighed, a hint of amusement finally breaking through his stoic façade. "Take that off; you'll be tripping over your own feet."
"It's… a symbol!" Leonotis declared, striking another pose, this time managing to stay upright. "A symbol of my devotion as your pupil! And my… my spiritual readiness!"
Gethii finally conceded, putting his hand on his hilt, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, always keep your shorts on under that thing. Your 'spiritual readiness' looks like it would expose your… less spiritually ready undergarments to the general public. Perhaps a belt?"
Leonotis glanced down, suddenly aware that a particularly enthusiastic movement had indeed caused the toga to shift precariously. He quickly adjusted it. "I think I have a belt inside."
Gethii chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Right then. Go ahead and get it." He gestured towards the door, a genuine warmth in his eyes. Despite the ridiculousness of Leonotis's attire, there was a spark of the brave, determined boy Gethii had come to care for.
Leonotis, beaming, adjusted his toga one last time. "Lead the way, Master Gethii!" He followed Gethii out the door, his makeshift toga flapping heroically in the breeze, a brown belt securing his attire around his waist.
Chinakah leaned against the cool stone of the window frame, tracing the path of the two figures as they passed through the outer gate. Their matching green garments billowed slightly in the morning breeze, looking almost ceremonial. A soft smile touched her lips at the sight of their coordinated departure. Then, her gaze sharpened. The smile vanished, replaced by a sudden furrow between her brows. She squinted, focusing on the drape of the fabric on Leonotis just before they disappeared around the bend. Was that... the faint dark green embroidered hem? The one from her good linen set? Her breath hitched. "Oh, wait a damn minute, that better not be my good bedsheet," she muttered under her breath.