The Weight of Shared Scars
"Can I join in, too?"
"Of course. By all means."
Asdin generously shared the know-how he possessed with Pun, who was curious about his methods. Pun had no way of knowing that such trivial knowledge was actually something Asdin had mastered through direct teachings from a god. Because of this, Pun simply watched his friend—who had taken on the role of a teacher—with eyes full of wonder.
"Can you learn things like this if you live in the forest?"
"You don't necessarily have to live in the forest. If you listen well to the adults, you can learn a lot."
It was a remark that greatly bolstered the pride of the adults. Pinol, an adult who had been out picking herbs with them, ruffled Asdin's hair with his rough hand. He was among the younger generation in the village.
"Look at this kid. He only says the sweetest things. Did you hear that, you lot?"
The stiff silence of the surrounding children served as their answer. It wasn't just Pun and Asdin there; other children were present as well. But because they knew about the tension between Asdin and Tobi, the children couldn't even whine, instead maintaining an awkward silence.
Pinol said, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"What's with you guys? Why are you reacting like that?"
"Uncle Pinol, I'm going to head a bit deeper inside. I think I can find more herbs there."
"Oh, is that so?"
Asdin quickly cooled the interest. Even though they were a group of children who stuck together, he had no desire to ruin their mood.
"I want to go too, Asdin," Pun said, trying to tag along. But Asdin raised a hand to block him.
"The path is too overgrown, so I think it'll be easier if I go alone."
Pun stepped back with a disappointed look on his face.
Once he had put enough distance between himself and the others, at a point where he was out of the boys' sight, Asdin stepped behind a thicket of shrubs.
"How is Pun?"
That was enough. Asdin turned his body and looked toward one spot. There was one other person there besides himself.
A boy with a frame a head taller than his own stood there.
"I knew you'd follow me."
At those words, Tobi's eyes burned with intensity.
"Why did you come to our village? You accomplice to a murderer."
"Watch your mouth. Uncle Srem is not a murderer."
"The guy that damn bastard brought killed my brother!"
He knew. That was a fact he had heard from Pun. Under normal circumstances, Asdin's anger would have passed its critical point the moment Srem was spoken of so maliciously. But having heard the truth from Pun, he couldn't let that happen. Therefore, Asdin spoke to Tobi as calmly as possible.
"That doesn't mean I'm a murderer."
Asdin tossed his hand to the side. The sharp stone he had been carrying to dig up the tough stems of herbs fell carelessly to the ground.
Looking at Tobi, Asdin slowly raised both hands. He didn't have his staff. It was an unnecessary item for this kind of work.
However, the staff wasn't a necessary item for dealing with someone who wasn't an enemy, either.
"I know you can't accept it. I understand that you might hate me."
Asdin recalled Hisoral's final moments. He had died after being bitten by a wolf, but it was a noble end, not a miserable one. But what was important right now wasn't the end. That wasn't why Asdin was thinking of Hisoral.
After that incident, Urnil had once asked Asdin this:
"If a person holds a sword and kills someone, is it the person's sin, or the sin of the sword that was swung?"
"A sword is just an object. It doesn't have thoughts, does it?"
"Then let me ask you this. Hisoral was killed by a wolf. But the one controlling that wolf was Kizzel. So, does the sin lie with Kizzel? Or with the wolf?"
Asdin remembered how bewildered he had been back then. It was the wolf that killed Hisoral. But it was Kizzel who ordered it, and ultimately, the one who benefited. Both were at fault, but Asdin hated Kizzel more. Come to think of it, he had never felt hatred toward the wolf itself. But Tobi was different. His anger toward Kizzel had been distorted by others, and now it was directed at him.
That was wrong.
Those who commit sins must be punished. By the same token, one must not be swayed by sin to commit another. Tobi was about to commit exactly that error.
Just as many people had saved a boy who was becoming assimilated into the wilderness, Asdin realized this was his chance to reach out. But Asdin was still a boy, and he lacked the maturity of an adult. The rough, unrefined impulsiveness of a boy suddenly reared its head.
"So,"
Though somewhat lacking, he faced the anger directed at him with the structure of his two hands, which had seized his own sovereignty.
"Let's just fight."
Tobi let out a silent roar and lunged. At the same time, Asdin kicked off the ground.
Children in the countryside are strong.
While there are those who learn systematic martial arts from wealthy families, the countryside has its own kind of strength. This was a universally accepted common sense, a phrase coined by country folk to mock city dwellers.
Unlike the city, where there is much to do, the countryside is barren. Thus, people are tenacious and aspire toward the city. For such people, the most ideal places are the various temples, and regardless of the sect, they don't care about age when it comes to entry.
The temples channeled that tenacity and unrefined temperament into martial power, contributing to the local communities in remote areas.
Conversely, it also meant that among children in regions without such opportunities, there were those whose temperaments grew just as rough.
And what if that child were an Exile?
Asdin blocked Tobi's preemptive strike. It was a right fist aimed straight at his face. He pushed against the upper arm, causing the body to rotate and expose the ribs. Asdin struck that spot with his right palm. Tobi groaned, but he didn't back down.
Instead, he forced strength into the arm that had been pushed aside, shoved back, and placed Asdin in front of him once more.
But that wasn't the end. Tobi lunged wildly, grabbing Asdin's poncho with his left hand. At the same time, he raised his right hand high. Asdin realized what Tobi was trying to do.
"Argh!"
The right hand came crashing down toward his face. Asdin raised both arms to block it. A dull impact thudded against his wrists. After receiving a few attacks, Tobi seemed to hesitate, as if he felt something was strange. It was only natural. Until now, no child had stood against him, and even if they fought, none had endured. But Asdin was holding his ground.
Seizing that very opening, Asdin shifted his weight to his back foot and yanked the center of the poncho. Tobi's body, which had been pulling toward him, was suddenly dragged forward.
"Huh?"
Asdin's hand, which had been under the poncho, struck Tobi's torso like a shadow.
"Ugh!"
But it wasn't over. Asdin struck the face and chest of Tobi, who had collapsed while clutching his stomach. Tobi fell to the ground, gasping for air while holding his chest.
Even in that state, his eyes didn't lose their hostility as he glared at Asdin. Asdin took a deep breath and asked.
"Do you feel better now?"
"You damn bastard!"
Asdin stepped back slightly. Tobi was holding a stone in his hand. As the hand swung through the air from an unstable position, Asdin kicked Tobi's chest with the sole of his foot.
Tobi tumbled backward with a wheezing sound. Asdin, sitting astride Tobi's chest, stepped on his shoulder with his right knee and his wrist—the one holding the stone—with his other foot.
"I'm asking you. Do you feel better?"
"You...!"
"You wanted to fight, so I accepted. You got to swing your fists to your heart's content, didn't you? I haven't committed any crimes, yet I've had to endure the stigma of being called an accomplice to a murderer by you."
Asdin's voice was low, sinking and trembling.
It was anger, and at the same time, it was pity.
"Your brother's death isn't my fault. That was the work of that murderer. So why do I have to keep hearing things like that from you?"
"Because Srem, that damn bastard, brought you here!"
Tobi shouted. It was the loudest sound in the entire fight so far.
Tobi wheezed as he spoke.
"If that guy hadn't brought Kizzel, my brother wouldn't have died! My mom wouldn't have had to cry until she fell asleep from exhaustion! And I wouldn't have had to pray every night that something terrible wouldn't happen when Dad went out to find the murderer!"
People were gathering. The children had arrived first. And Pinol was approaching, keeping the children in his sight, hesitating as he watched.
"If it weren't for you guys, if it weren't for you guys that Srem brought..."
Finally, Tobi's eyes welled up with tears. Even so, Asdin didn't loosen the pressure of his foot on the hand holding the stone.
He had lived as an Exile for the past half-year, and the thoroughness of that life remained. Instead, Asdin grabbed Tobi by the collar and pulled him up.
His wrist, imbued with Essence, endured the load with both flexibility and tenacity.
"Get a grip, Tobi."
"Who do you think you are, an accomplice to a murderer, telling me what to do...!"
"I am not an accomplice to a murderer!"
Asdin roared. For a moment, the Essence inside Asdin's body scattered explosively. It was the aftermath of failing to control his emotions. The Essence, invisible to others' eyes, caused a momentary shiver to run through the bodies of those nearby.
In particular, Tobi, who was right in front of him, looked up at Asdin with eyes that had momentarily lost all thought and emotion.
"How long are you going to cry about being the only victim? How long are you going to ostracize me? I also had someone precious killed by a murderer! Before we could even get closer, that person threw away their life to save me! From that damn murderer you keep talking about! I am also a victim of that Kizzel! Why should I, a fellow victim, have to take the humiliation of being called an accomplice to a murderer by you? Why!"
It was a roar like a downpour of rain and thunder. Tobi's pupils shook violently. These weren't emotions that had failed to return to him, twisted and knotted like chains. Asdin's words and actions were like a raging fire crashing head-on.
Asdin, gasping for breath, spoke again.
"Uncle Srem, whom I met much later, saved me when I was dying and unable to do anything because of my wounds. Believe it or not. I trust him. That man is not a murderer. Neither am I. And you and I are both victims. Don't hurt me anymore."
Asdin stood up slowly, observing Tobi with cautious eyes. His hand had turned white from how tightly he had been gripping the collar.
While Tobi stared with vacant eyes, Asdin continued.
"I said it on the first day, too, but I wanted to be friends with you guys. Do you know that? That was all I ever wanted."
Asdin, his emotions heightened, felt a surge of tears.
Even though he had won the fight, his vision blurred. Asdin looked up at the sky once, blinked, and bowed his head. No one saw that the boy's eyes had been wet.
Asdin thought. Is winning a fight important?
'No.'
That wasn't important. In a fight for survival, victory is indispensable, but weren't other fights ultimately about asserting one's own perspective, or fighting for a better resolution?
Asdin had fought. But he no longer even knew what he had fought for. What had he gained by showing compassion to someone who had endlessly hurt him?
It was just two boys, hurt by a deceitful person, looking deeper into their own wounds.
With Pinol watching, Asdin coldly looked around at the other friends, excluding Pun, and began to walk away.
No one there thought to stop Asdin as he moved further away toward the village.