The 1st Memory: The Heir to Grandfather’s City

The assignment undertaken was urgent, but it’s the duty of any hero to save a child in danger. As our eyes met, I knew I needed to save him. Not just from enemy attack, but on a deeper level. He appeared only half my age but his eyes were dim and his body was emaciated. As he turned toward me his shark eyes glint. Without us exchanging any words he had me figured out. Steadfast, I took in his intimidating countenance, remembering my father’s saying: “Every enemy deserves respectful resentment."

A Weimaraner trailed the boy. Stray domestics were characteristic of the City’s fallout. Before the distance closed between boy and beast, I intervened, drawing my blade. I hadn’t expected anything organic to be a match against my steel, yet the enemy’s tenacity took me off guard. Despite my strike the beast charged on relentlessly and gorged deep into my arm. Suddenly, where it had struck, a benign burn flared against a malignant chill. This resulting adrenaline peak fueled my second strike and terminated combat.

Applying ointment to the wound, I looked around for the boy. He could not have gotten far for he needed me to protect him from further harm. During combat he had taken the opportunity to hide. Suddenly, in the periphery, he emerged from a manhole. Rather than casting the cover aside, he positioned it in front of himself--braced for an attack. Despite my assurance of my intention to protect him, he remained adamant in remaining where he was. When that failed to persuade him, I gestured to my wound as further evidence. By then the ointment had caused the flaring pain to burn out.

“You’re done for,” he stated matter-of-factly. Having proceeded to set the skin adhesive, I hadn't realized he had crept closer. Despite being disdainful his expression was undiscernible. Upon standing, I succumbed to anemia. Could I still protect him while carrying out the mission? I struggled to shift my balance to one side. Although I was sweating, I felt cold. My dilemma was just as bone chilling. Forcing my thoughts aside to drive away the fear, I glanced at the boy. Observing my stoicism, wonder flashed across the boy’s face, betraying him.

“Who are you?” he demanded. In response to my reply, he glared at me viciously, putting his hand on his hip. “You’re lying! I’m the true heir to this city! I know everything there is to know about it. I've never even heard of you before.”

Without the chance to respond, his tirade continued.

“Listen man, you can’t claim a place as yours if you’ve never even visited! Do you even know anyone here?!”

Displeased with my loss for words, he interrupted my silence with a sharp jab.

“I know what you’re thinking… Listen, I didn’t need your help! I can handle myself and get where I want! You didn’t do me any favors at all…You just wound up hurting yourself!”

Daring to return his glare, I inquired as to whether he knew where the City’s central statue was. Surely, somebody who knew their way around could answer that. He smirked.

“Exactly! You have no idea where you are. Everybody knows the central statue, our city’s founder, whose bloodline went out of fashion long ago. Grand-Dad saw to that!”

Without waiting for my response, he began in the direction we would go.