Uzykos was about to turn 9. He was a rather tall child for his age, well-built, with red hair like his parents, blue eyes and a square face. A boarder at the Imperial Academy, he returned to Thesos only once every two weeks. His teachers described him as a rather asymmetrical student. While his results in physical activities were excellent, those in the more intellectual disciplines left something to be desired. Not that he was stupid, but his indiscipline and lack of work meant that he lagged behind his classmates. Fortunately, none of the children dared to make fun of him. Beyond the fact that he was a good buddy and loyal to his friends, no one dared to challenge him since he had reamed Bacchus, the terror of the upper class. This memorable brawl earned him the nickname Uzykos the Fearless and three days' exclusion from the Academy.
When he returned home to Thesos, it was his father who picked him up. But unlike his more affluent comrades who lived in Pyr or rode off on mektoubs, he left on foot, with his father running far ahead. Orders were given not to let him out of his sight. He knew the way, that was not the problem. But if he fell too far behind, he knew his stay at home would be horrible. He'd be on latrine duty at the legionnaires' barracks until he got back to school. Yet, despite the hard life his father made for him, he loved him above all else. He knew he was lucky to be able to study at the Imperial Academy. His father had had to fight to be what he is today, and he had great hopes for him.
When he wasn't at the Academy or with his father, he spent most of his time with his friends from Thesos. Wretched scoundrels who, for the most part, had never been to school. But they made him feel very cultured. Besides, he was the leader of the gang. He was the one with the good ideas, like when they'd managed to infiltrate Pecus's house to steal a barrel of shooki. The bender they'd had that evening had left the young scoundrels with no memory, apart from a few scattered snatches that were best forgotten.
Sometimes, Lyren or Wixarika came to visit him. They were like surrogate mothers with whom he could have fun, and who sometimes brought him gifts. Sweets for Wixarika, and more "fun" toys for Lyren, which she would discreetly give him out of sight of his father, like a dagger or fireworks. As for his biological mother, the few times he came across her was when she'd come for a drink at Pecus with his father. He hated those times. Eeri scared him. From the conversations he managed to pick up, she spent most of her time boozing at the Fairheaven bar. Yet her father seemed to like it when she was around. You could tell by the way he acted around her. Uzykos couldn't understand how his father could have fallen in love with such a homine. In any case, his mother's visits were fortunately rare enough.
Today, at the start of the school vacations, his father was waiting for him at the foot of the Place des Académies school steps. The stern look on his face did not bode well. As Uzykos slowly made his way down the steps, trying to remember what stupid thing he'd done to make his father look like that, his father called out to him, startling the surrounding homins, children, parents and onlookers alike.
"Get your ass down faster than that detal!"
Detal? Him? Granted, his results weren't great, and his latest math assignment was more than mediocre, but he wasn't a dunce either.
When he reached his father, he said in a sheepish voice.
"oren pyr dad, you...
- there's no oren pyr today! I spoke to your teachers this afternoon. They all tell me you've got skills, but you're wasting them because you don't give a damn!
- I... I work, I ju... "
Azazor returned one of his own, pinning him to the ground with his cheek on fire.
"Don't swear! Talen!"
Tears welled up in Uzykos' eyes, but he forced himself to hold them back. There was no point crying in front of his father, it would only fuel his fury. Instead, he got to his feet, rubbed his sore cheek and said nothing.
Azazor resumed in a thunderous voice:
"Believe me, my boy, I'm going to remedy that! During this vacation, you're going to have my back all day long. Forget any idea of games, friends and outings. All vacation in front of the books, and you'd better get to work! I didn't crawl through sawdust all my life to make my son a moron!"
In Uzykos' mind, all his dreams of lazing on the shores of Lake Thesos vanished, replaced by boring books and the problems of crossing caravans of mektoubs.
"No time to daydream, we're going home. And on the double!" roared Azazor. As he did so, he kicked his son in the backside and, grumbling for form's sake, he ran at full speed towards the main street of Pyr.
Yes, the carefree days were over...
When he returned home to Thesos, it was his father who picked him up. But unlike his more affluent comrades who lived in Pyr or rode off on mektoubs, he left on foot, with his father running far ahead. Orders were given not to let him out of his sight. He knew the way, that was not the problem. But if he fell too far behind, he knew his stay at home would be horrible. He'd be on latrine duty at the legionnaires' barracks until he got back to school. Yet, despite the hard life his father made for him, he loved him above all else. He knew he was lucky to be able to study at the Imperial Academy. His father had had to fight to be what he is today, and he had great hopes for him.
When he wasn't at the Academy or with his father, he spent most of his time with his friends from Thesos. Wretched scoundrels who, for the most part, had never been to school. But they made him feel very cultured. Besides, he was the leader of the gang. He was the one with the good ideas, like when they'd managed to infiltrate Pecus's house to steal a barrel of shooki. The bender they'd had that evening had left the young scoundrels with no memory, apart from a few scattered snatches that were best forgotten.
Sometimes, Lyren or Wixarika came to visit him. They were like surrogate mothers with whom he could have fun, and who sometimes brought him gifts. Sweets for Wixarika, and more "fun" toys for Lyren, which she would discreetly give him out of sight of his father, like a dagger or fireworks. As for his biological mother, the few times he came across her was when she'd come for a drink at Pecus with his father. He hated those times. Eeri scared him. From the conversations he managed to pick up, she spent most of her time boozing at the Fairheaven bar. Yet her father seemed to like it when she was around. You could tell by the way he acted around her. Uzykos couldn't understand how his father could have fallen in love with such a homine. In any case, his mother's visits were fortunately rare enough.
...
Today, at the start of the school vacations, his father was waiting for him at the foot of the Place des Académies school steps. The stern look on his face did not bode well. As Uzykos slowly made his way down the steps, trying to remember what stupid thing he'd done to make his father look like that, his father called out to him, startling the surrounding homins, children, parents and onlookers alike.
"Get your ass down faster than that detal!"
Detal? Him? Granted, his results weren't great, and his latest math assignment was more than mediocre, but he wasn't a dunce either.
When he reached his father, he said in a sheepish voice.
"oren pyr dad, you...
- there's no oren pyr today! I spoke to your teachers this afternoon. They all tell me you've got skills, but you're wasting them because you don't give a damn!
- I... I work, I ju... "
Azazor returned one of his own, pinning him to the ground with his cheek on fire.
"Don't swear! Talen!"
Tears welled up in Uzykos' eyes, but he forced himself to hold them back. There was no point crying in front of his father, it would only fuel his fury. Instead, he got to his feet, rubbed his sore cheek and said nothing.
Azazor resumed in a thunderous voice:
"Believe me, my boy, I'm going to remedy that! During this vacation, you're going to have my back all day long. Forget any idea of games, friends and outings. All vacation in front of the books, and you'd better get to work! I didn't crawl through sawdust all my life to make my son a moron!"
In Uzykos' mind, all his dreams of lazing on the shores of Lake Thesos vanished, replaced by boring books and the problems of crossing caravans of mektoubs.
"No time to daydream, we're going home. And on the double!" roared Azazor. As he did so, he kicked his son in the backside and, grumbling for form's sake, he ran at full speed towards the main street of Pyr.
Yes, the carefree days were over...