The older one gets, after a certain age, the more wrinkle they have. It's the human body's way of displaying the number of decades it has seen. It also a way of warranting respect from those who haven't lived long enough to have them. Its a sign of seniority and wisdom cumulated over the years and summed up to the individuals current age. Yet many relentlessly hate it.
Having wrinkles on your skin is seen as a sign of old age but in a negative way. Its a sign of the slowly drawing hand of death just waiting for you at that one wrong corner to whisk or snatch you away from the long life one has built through the years. And some old people don't want that. They wish to live longer and see what their children, grandchildren, great grandchildren do and judge them. It's a noble wish for those who wish to spend more time with their family.
But in as much as living longer than intended it a fantastic thing… they should really find a way to take care of those wrinkles because to a certain point the more wrinkles you have… the less human you look.
Same can be said to the headmaster as he turned to face Lozo.
Lozo's mind had been distracted a little by the little girl, Hinari, as she walked out such that he had forgotten the rumors that he was to confirm.
" Welcome Lozo. " The headmaster said in his rough and majestic voice.
Lozo froze. The rumors were far from true, they were pinpoint accurate.
His face was a marvel for the ages, especially for a six year old who for the past year had been surrounded by other children. Skin stretched along his face to form contours usually seen after a mud slide. His lips were hidden by it making Lozo wonder how he was even able to speak. The rest of his wrinkles stretched a questionable below his chin like a long flesh beard. In place of his eyes was just darkness, light couldn't reach his eye ball and still bounce back.
Long story short, to Lozo the head master was just simply very…
" … Old. " Lozo said straight to his face.
" Oh great, another child critic. " The old man responded.
" Wait until the others hear this. " Lozo added a chuckle away from bursting into laughter.
"Making fun of how people look isn't nice. "
Lozo didn't listen, he was steeped neck deep in laughter
" Pol was right, if you… if you squint your eyes really closely you can see it… "
The headmaster growl.
Lozo' laughs just continued.
" Enough, what I called you here for is extremely important. "
" But, but… " Lozo tried to plea his case.
" No buts. Its a serious issue that we must address immediately. " The headmaster added.
" We ? "Lozo asked his laughs slowly starting to die off.
" Yes, its extremely serious. An issue that could as well determine the lives or deaths of the other children. " He added.
Lozo laugh came to an abrupt stop.
" What? why? " Lozo asked.
" Good I have your attention. Children these days can even read the room. "
" First of all I want to talk about you, Lozo. Do you realize who you are ? " He asked he moved to take a seat.
Besides his chair was a wooden staff that he walked with. It was set slanted onto the chair.
" Who I am ? I'm Lozo. That's my name. "
The old man slowly sat down onto the chair.
" Earlier you were in a fight right ? Did you get hurt ? " The headmaster asked.
" Yeah, Pol's punches really hurt. The nurse said I have a bleeding gu… " Lozo suddenly stopped. Earlier, after the fight his lip had been bleeding. The nurse had told them that the cut would heal sooner or later but as Lozo ran his tongue over the cut lip the cut had gone. Completely healed up to a point it seemed the cut was never there.
" It was here… I promise it was. " Lozo said point to his lip.
" Yes I know. But now its healed up like there was nothing there right ? "
The headmaster noticed a slip of confusion in Lozo's eyes. He proceeded to retrieve a file that was placed on top of his desk.
" During the fight, did you give it your all ? " The headmaster asked.
" Huh ? Of course I did. If didn't Pol would have beaten… " Lozo paused for a minute.
" During the past year you've gotten into a lot of mischief, theft, fights, severe falls from the sycamore tree. All these you ended up with severe cuts, sprains and sometimes a broken bone or two. "
Lozo gave a silent nod.
" And in all of this you healed and came back unscathed. Like nothing severe had happened to you. Right ? "
" Thats why I asked you, Lozo. Do you realize who you are. "
Lozo was still quiet.
The headmaster noticed the confused look on Lozo's face again.
" During before bedtime does Honari read to you the story about the saints. " He asked.
" Mmm. It's everyone's favorite book, the Hymns of the Harmatia. " Lozo answered, still slightly confused.
" The story is about the saints that protect this land under their lords against all the monsters and bad people that wish it bad things. The saints and vassals are extraordinary with extraordinary abilities that they use to protect everyone. They are right and just against the sins of the world. "The headmaster gave a brief view of the story.
Lozo nodded. This was the first time the story felt different to Lozo. The headmaster's tone and the way he watched him suggested that there was something to the story and it was related to him. Lozo swallowed a final gulp.
" Just like in the book. " Lozo added.
" Listen to me Lozo… " the headmaster said, his tone more dire now.
" You too posses the same powers as the saints and vassal from the book. You too are an Harmatia. "
An hamartia, Hymn of the Harmatia, this word wrestled in Lozo's tongue as slowly tried to swallow the heavy pill that would then on define his actions. His surprise couldn't be contained.
" Hamartia ? " Lozo asked.
The headmaster answered in silence.
His heart raced uncontrollably. He couldn't tell if it were from delight or he was just scared. Scared of what his future held under this new incite.
" Lozo, " the headmaster called.
" As of now you I want you to understand. You have the power be either be a saint or a sin to the world. " He said firmly.
The headmaster wanted his words to sink into the boy's skull. In their world a saints life and that of a sin were the same and at the same time polar opposites. He needed Lozo to understand weight of those two words before he could continue any farther.
Even in his wildest of dreams Lozo had never imagined of his current situation. He was currently standing in front of a geezer who potentially looked like he was over two hundred years and he had just learned that he potentially be like the heroes in their bedtime story.
" This can't be true. I'm dreaming, Pol must have knocked me out and I'm currently dreaming."He said.
His mind ranted excuses over and over again but they were all eradicated when he felt warm hand rest onto his shoulders.
He looked up, and where the dead darkness had been, was now a face shockingly younger—not just smooth, but radiant, the deep ravines of his skin seeming to unfold and melt away like snow under a sudden sun.
" Don't worry, " he said.
" I'm one too. "
From then on Lozo began to change. In his early years, six, seven, he joked around. Seeing the dead looking old man shout at him every time they trained always reminded him that he was still alive. He loved that. Nine, ten eleven, his playful jitter toned down to a less childlike demeanor. Mostly because Honari had left and he had found himself a sister. Also by this age most of his peers were either adopted or left had decided to leave on their own. It was on their twelfth birthday when Pol left the orphanage. He got adopted by a high-ranking soldier from the kingdoms main fleet. Thirteen, fourteen fifteen only he and his sister remained of the children from the initial group.
Sixteen, old man Ji died and as for Lozo, he lay on the ground, his gut threatening to bleed out and, in his hands, Hinari, half charred. The flashes of the day he felt the warm touch of the most dead person he had ever seen crossed his mind as he knelt before a sadist maniac who for some reason uttered...
"Now smile… Joyeuse! "