Nathanaël went out after a few hours. As expected, his Norde had improved considerably. He tried as much as possible to speak only in Norde, and since he lived in Nozras and his linguistic adaptability was quite good, he quickly acquired all the basics of the language.
When he came out, he saw children playing in the village. Some were mimicking the way he and Azraüs had fought earlier that morning. Their little hands flew through the air, wildly mimicking every exaggerated move.
"No, Azraüs, he did it like this. Then he picked up his club in the air."
Another child shouted immediately, miming other absurd gestures.
"Yeah, but the foreigner, he countered Azraüs's club and then he…."
It was funny for Nathanaël to see children imitating them. After all, wasn't this the nation of warriors? They were meant to learn at a young age.
It wasn't every day that he could inspire young warriors to become powerful young men, slaughtering their enemies along the way in the most warrior-like nation in history.
"And… said like that, it doesn't sound very good."
"Yo, Nathy."
Azraüs was standing farther away on a haystack. He waved with a light smile on his lips at Nathanaël and walked toward him.
"That went well? You understand me now?"
"It was easy. Norde isn't that hard compared to Garid. Once you have the basics, the rest comes naturally."
Azraüs raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"I see. Sir is a language genius."
Suddenly, Nathanaël shivered slightly. A genius…
Nathanaël had never been called a genius. He might have been called gifted or intelligent. But the term genius had never been associated with him. Since he was little, that wasn't really how people saw him.
So, Azraüs's words made him smile slightly.
"You could say that."
"Cool. We can quickly go to the capital, and I'll defeat everyone and…"
"Why are you trying so hard to go to the capital where your father failed?"
Nathanaël deliberately cut him off. He wanted to know. He wanted to know why someone would give so much effort when the goal was almost certainly out of reach.
Azraüs was silent for a moment as if a bad memory had resurfaced. His expression turned dark like Nathanaël had never seen. The atmosphere around them became heavy.
However, he broke the silence a few seconds later and said in a heavy voice:
"My mother died in the capital."
And suddenly, Nathanaël immediately regretted his question.
"She and my father were quite a duo back then. They crushed their enemies and gradually moved toward glory and the pinnacle. Even though their lives were almost assured as warriors in Nozras, they didn't stop there and went straight into the arena. Many tried to stop them, but they were stubborn and went anyway."
Nathanaël listened carefully while biting his fingers. He didn't like reminding others of their pain and suffering, so he never asked.
It always hurt him as much as the victim.
Azraüs continued:
"I was a fan of my father. Every time he came home, he would tell me how his battles went. My mother was impressive too. They called her 'the black viper.' My brother and I believed in them."
'His brother?'
"But the last time my father came home, he came back without my mother. It shocked me. His empty gaze, his scars, and his warrior spirit were gone. He was no longer the same and had returned alone. Alas, my brother had the unfortunate idea of going to the capital to avenge mother. I tried to hold him back as best I could. I begged the old man to stop him, but he didn't move an inch. Lost in his despair, he had become like dead. Of course, my brother never returned. But one day, they brought me his weapon, that huge club that I don't even know how to use."
"What?"
"That was the last thing left of him. The old man still refuses to say what happened there. I've asked him many times to go avenge mother, but he always refused. He never fought again, founded a clan, and never spoke of mother since."
A heavy silence settled. A silence that Nathanaël greatly dreaded. A moment where he could only provide accompaniment, not meaningless words. A regret of having asked, and on the verge of asking if he was okay. But it was so obvious. What could one say to a man who had lost his mother and brother after that?
Nathanaël was silent. But although this moment was rather unpleasant, he was not ready to let it sink completely. He had to save the moment.
"And you? Why do you want to go there then?"
Azraüs barely moved and looked at the sky.
"I intend to finish what he started and find out what happened."
Nathanaël admired Azraüs's courage and ambition, but he couldn't help but find it ridiculous as well. If their story ended like that after putting their lives at risk for someone else, what would be remembered of them? What had been the purpose of it all? Was it really worth it?
And suddenly, Azraüs's voice interrupted his train of thought.
"But you know, Nathy. With you by my side, I'm sure everything will be fine. I could have done it alone too, but sometimes I make a few mistakes, so…"
Nathanaël stared at Azraüs for a moment and then laughed. He realized that Reno's son often simply enjoyed the moment rather than crying, but he hadn't expected him to be so unserious even in this kind of situation.
Then he stopped, thinking that, in the end, it was normal. No one should remain stuck in the past. No matter how terrible it was…
Azraüs was surprised as well. But his surprise was more because Nathanaël seemed to be teasing him.
"Few mistakes? You're a machine at making mistakes."
"What are you talking about? I don't make that many mistakes."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Stop laughing."
Nathanaël and Azraüs stayed there, watching the stars once again. The starry sky welcomed them even more beautifully. The children who had imitated the earlier fight now had to go to sleep. Those who had been running after the hay were being caught. The adults were making fires here and there. The tents were closing more and more. Others gathered around the flames to chat. Some were still at the training ground, firmly believing in their glorious destiny.
Reno watched them from his tent. He saw everyone moving lazily toward their last activity of the day. His village had never seemed so lively. Since the arrival of the stranger, people were moving as if they were witnessing a great battle.
Yet he had done everything to keep his village out of all that. Out of this madness, out of this bitter and stupid end. And for all those years, the village had remained calm and serene, seeking trouble from no one. Only Azraüs gambolled here and there in search of trouble.
However, with the arrival of the young boy, it was as if his village had awakened. There was joy and vigor in the air that he had not seen for a long time. Perhaps he did not want to see it again? Or maybe he missed it? But seeing all this, his heart was gripped by a little twinge that would not leave him.
He smiled. He smiled like he hadn't smiled in a long time. A sincere smile that had forgotten all its pain.
But he could not help thinking that it might be the last time.
A few weeks later, Nathanaël had almost perfectly mastered Norde.
It was one of his best skills; he learned very quickly.
Azraüs and he had continued their fights, and each time, the village came to watch them and admire them. The children ended up admiring them, and the adults respected them. Everyone chose a side: Azraüs' side or Nathanaël's side. Reno came to watch them from time to time to correct some of their movements, but often ended up fighting Azraüs because he didn't want to receive advice from his father.
Nathanaël was appreciated in the village. He helped a lot and played with the kids. Azraüs also ended up going through this, as he often accompanied Nathanaël. It embarrassed him a lot to receive compliments.
"Thank you, Azraüs. You may not be the shameless, fearless, merciless, brainless warrior that people think you are."
"Hey, what does that mean? I am a fearless, shameless, brainless warrior… Wait… brainless?"
Nathanaël really wondered if Jin was the same deep down…
Reno continued to teach Nathanaël Norde. And the days passed while he thought of his family and companions.