City King

Elliot came from the past…

It was the historical war of two wide imperial nations in the far land. A mercenary who have succeeded on assisting the king who contracted him was also assassinated, taking both the treasure he could loot.

Then he was punished…

A holy sorcerers bestowed him to fleet the land forever and that power had led him to the far future where the world he knew no longer exist.

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2. Chapter 1: The Hospital

Chapter 1: Exiled of Time

He woke up feeling all the horrible body aches in his muscles. After decades he’s feeling this unusual pain that he was supposed to get used to. While feeling his body, his ears heard a very indistinctive sound he’s never heard of his entire being and that gave him all the reason to open his eyes and sprung off that bed he was on.

And when he stood instinctively on the cold marble floor, he felt something pinching his left arm as he sets his eyes on the tube connected to a scepter like stand. Shocked, he ripped it off his body and looked around as the door from the room opens and a doctor entered with a surprised expression on his face. The problem is, he does not know they were even doctors.

“Sir!” he said astonished trying to approach the confused Elliot.

He glared at the man with sharp eyes as he attempted to jumped off the window, but with the doctor’s quick reflexes, he was able to pull his shirt and weigh him down regardless of his multiple injuries. Ignoring it, he struggled. “Unhand me!” He shouted doing his best to push the man away from him.

People in white coats started entering the chamber as he thought it was. They began to lung at him and put him back up to the white cozy bed he had gone asleep in to as he thought that the bed possesses a strange magical entity that steals his strength and failing miserably on struggling when in fact, he was strong enough for a man who had gone out of reality for days. One of the doctors brought out his syringe and swiftly as he could to stop the beast from hurting himself, he took the shot and put him to weaken…

And that was what happened yesterday. He was overwhelmed with these ‘occult men’ he encountered and unwillingly submitted himself. This was the first time he felt his pride shattering in an instant, but he wanted to act wisely about this one. Now that he has no any particular about this country he has been exiled in to. Or was this neither in his world?

All those 24 hours he had been in thought, consuming what they give and eventually feel rather ignorant about the taste he had kept in his tongue for days that was actually too tasty than any rations he had eaten before in the battlefield. And looking over, the only torture he receives very often was a daily ‘check-up’ as they call it and an unbelievably thin needle engraving on his arm. Few people in different clothing had come in to ask him questions: age, family, or home. He answered: “Elliot, age of 17 and I have no home.” Seemingly to be an answer from an orphan boy who had run away.

The men, who were actually the police had asked again. “Then where did you came from?” one of them was taking a note while waiting for the boy’s response.

Elliot frowned. “I was banished.” He answered. “Rather than being executed.”

That made the one who was writing stopped and looked at him. He nodded and wrote abused at home. A stow away. But he erased the last part and rewrote it into ‘run away’ as he thought over which is better between the two sentences as though just learning new English word before looking at the boy.

“Why?” he further asked.

“I am a mercenary.” He straightly announced.

Now the two policemen exchanged glances as they looked back at the clueless boy. “You’re a gamer?” the one who was writing even tried to clarify. “Or a cosplayer?”

“A mercenary.” Repeated Elliot.

The men sighed, one wrote on his notebook and the other tried to think for more questions. “Son, we want to help you here. Please try to make things understandable.” He said.

“And I need no help from you.” He said back. “But I think I could negotiate in exchange of my freedom.” He crossed his feet and arms as he showed them his confidence.

“Negotiate? Freedom?” the police both recited in wonder.

“Yes. I am a mercenary, capable of taking someone down, even take down a king if it wills be.” He confidently and proudly said. His arrogance had raised their eyebrows as they waited for him to continue. “It may seem that I am injured, but I could still take anyone down flawlessly. So, how will it be?”

There was silence for a couple of seconds before one of the police answered. “This must be hard for you, son.” He tapped Elliot’s shoulder as he sympathetically smiled at him. “I’ll give you some space for a while and once you’re ready to answer, be assured that we’re here.” He let him go as he made his way out of the room followed by the other one who was taking his notes.

Elliot gave the door a skeptic look as if they were still standing on that same place. He was feeling dumbfounded and restless over those odd sentences from an old man. He knew for himself that they do not believe his capabilities and rather trying to change the subject into something broader that he could not understand. It is rather difficult for him to think that this is merely another country. Because first, they do not relate to what he is trying to offer. Second, they’re all odd. Third, he had never seen or heard of an occult who simply torture their prisoners with one pinch of a needle. And lastly, they all have indistinctive way of speaking with him, talking about post-traumatic distress, blood-test, x-ray and so on. he doesn’t understand any of it unless they explain and he would just quietly obey for him to investigate further.

Three days later, there are other men who came into his chamber with hospitable smiles painted down their lips. “Good day. You’re Elliot, is that right?” one of them asked.

“Yes. Correct, that is my name.” he replied, careless of these men who came in. he doesn’t care what they came here for anymore, he already knew that they’re the same with the other people who enters, they could not even understand each other.

“I am Jack and this is Cordon from the police department, I came here to get a more precise answers from you.” He brought out his notebook and waved it at him. “So, let’s get to know each other.” He sat on the chair just beside the bed and opened his notebook.

“Why do you have to ask? Is this really this relevant?” Elliot asked back annoyed. “Have my answers been unacceptable? I swear I answered every questions honestly.”

“Yes, yes. I understand the stress of that age, too, back then of course. And this really needs your full cooperation.”

Elliot sighed. Guess this is better than being forced to join a religion. He thought as he waited for Jack to question him. “So, this might be very sensitive but, have you ever been abused?” he asked.

Thinking back, the question simply yes. Children on their generation had been forced to join the warriors as soon as they’ve reached eight, trained as excessive as possible that have put children into an immeasurable hardship before dying and get ill that Elliot had no choice but to end their misery. It was the life he grew up having that he no longer knew if he even had parents.

“Yes.” He answered straightly.

“By whom? Your parents?”

“By my superiors.”

Jack nodded looking at the notebook which actually belonged to the policeman who first had him interviewed. “So, have you ever thought about running away?”

Elliot sighed. “Are you seriously asking me things unnecessarily as this?” he asked impatiently. “Look, I do not need to answer you nor do you have to relatively care about my past. This has nothing to do with you.”

Jack looked at him for a couple of seconds. If they did not identify them as an unknown 17-year-old teenager who is commonly suffering an eight-grade-syndrome or probably a post traumatic distress, he would have thought he is someone dangerous. As he observed the young man more he leafed the notebook into the next page and read something unusual on the report. A word ‘mercenary’ was there.

“So, Elliot. Do you kill?” he asked seriously that made Elliot face him back. They stared at each other for a while before the boy gave him a grin he didn’t expect a boy this innocent looking would mask his face with. And from that moment, time stopped for Jack when the boy mouthed the answer from his lips only to let out a whisper saying “Yes.” And then a smile again.

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