Grand Opening

I watched slowly as the dust settled after the car rolled over on the road. Near me, there were many glass fragments through which I flew out. The accident happened completely unexpectedly for me and left no choice. A slight coldness rose slowly from the arms and legs, reaching the heart. Looking down, I saw a rather large wooden beam that I ran into. It was hard to breathe, almost impossible.

There was no fear as such, although I did not feel any other sensations either. Only cold. Darkness slowly surrounded my mind, not allowing me to think about anything else. The last, fragile breath, and I again plunged into darkness. Now finally. Am I really going to die here? Very, very sorry. But nothing can be done about it. Just accept and expect what can overtake me further. I never thought my death would be so calm.

***

The winds of energy carried me to no one knows where, and no one knows how. I've been navigating them for a long time. At first, this surprised me a lot, but then even this surprise disappeared. What was left was to look around carefully and try to understand or realize at least something, but nothing like that happened. No matter how hard I tried, I could not understand what it was.

The underworld, if this is it, is entirely different from what I expected. I thought that I was either going to be reborn or even go to Hell. For Paradise, I have not done anything worthy. But this ... Of course, I knew that there are other ways, but for it to be actually true, I never believed it. But perhaps others believed, and it became a reality. Who knows ... Certainly, not me.

Great bursts of energy crossed my being, filling it with some new meaning, or even possibilities. No matter how I tried to understand them, I failed. But something inside me was changing. I was crossing large, strange threads of deep purple and blue energy. For many, they might turn out to be unreal, but not for me ... For me, they were super-real and tangible.

But, as I began to understand, it couldn't go on that long. I felt that my journey would be over with each passing moment, perhaps not even in the most pleasant way. How-so unpleasant, I do not know. But what I knew that that would not be fun. What is it? Intuition? Or foresight? I do not know…

The next second, I felt that my spirit froze for a few moments and flew somewhere at high speed. Where? I don't know. Multi-colored lights lit up around the body, and then I felt myself crashing into something, knocking out another object.

Out of fright, I even closed my eyes and waited for some time before I dare to open them.

"Ali, stop standing with closed eyes," said a loud male voice. He brought me back to reality, and I took a deep breath of fresh air. Then this male voice continued with a small displease, "Potatoes won't pick themselves up."

"Yeah," it was all I could say. Still not understanding, I began to do what this male voice asked me to do. There was a reasonably large bucket next to me. Underfoot was plowed land, from which one could see small potatoes. Leaning over, I scooped up a few and threw them over to the other potatoes that were already in the bucket. What's happening?

Hard and monotonous work quickly disconnected me from reality, allowing me to think about everything that was happening and how it might affect me. Very slowly came an understanding and a strange realization that I was in a completely different world. No matter how I tried to think about this and even more strain my brain to realize how it happened, I could not.

Slowly, in glimpses, I remembered a man named Ali. Alistair, to be precise, Ali is shorthand. He is a simple inhabitant of a small human village of several dozen houses, in the forgotten Azeroth's wilderness. The word Azeroth sliced ​​through my mind like a hot dagger. A burning thought flew through my head, forcing me to distract myself from my work for a moment.

Azeroth ... World of Warcraft, a world of magic and many creatures. I will not say that I was a big fan of this universe, but still, like any other person, I heard and knew about it. I was familiar with names like Ner'zhul, Arthas, Illidan, Elune, and many others. Is this all true? I need more time to understand and realize all this.

I plunged into my thoughts, continuing to work monotonously. The potatoes continued to pick themselves with my hands and went into the buckets. Towards evening, when it was already getting dark, I had to help my father, who talked earlier, pack all our stuff on the "cart". For me, another name was familiar - truck. But that is what is used here. Two nags slowly pulled the cart of potatoes into the village. It was surrounded by a small palisade. A small wooden tower knocked down from planks made it possible to sit there and observe the surrounding area. Every day one of the villagers is on duty there. There was no garrison here, and only one person had leather armor. No one else had anything like that.

"Achim," my father waved his hand, passing through absolutely not thick and flimsy gates. The guard just waved his hand at him, straightening the simple bow that hung behind him.

Achim was a longtime father's friend, with whom they went through quite a lot. My father's name was Valis, and he was a simple peasant who did not possess the rudiments of magic or the skills of using weapons. He was precisely a farmer, like his father, and his grandfather and great-grandfather. Alistair should have continued this tradition, but I have no desire to be in this wilderness since I have now appeared in this body.

It turned out to be very easy to accept your rebirth in another world. I don't even know how to explain it ... My past life began to seem like some kind of dream, which may never have been a reality. But then the memories of the accident quickly brought me back to my senses, and I continued to make plans. I have absolutely no desire and time to kill myself after my death. From memory, I knew that many things still hadn't happened. There were still no orcs in this world. The Horde was not here. It was not yet ... Who knows in what period of time I got reincarnated.

The house was empty and downright unfriendly. Nobody was waiting for us there. As I knew from memory, Alistair did not have a mother. She died while giving birth to him. This happens quite often at such times. And nothing can be done here without medical assistance. If they had at least a lingering witch in their village, everything could have taken a completely different path for Alistair. The guy grew up early, and from an early age, he helps on the field, and sometimes even with hunting.

For several days I continued to come to my senses, continuing to learn more about the world around me. Although there was very, very little information. After hard work in the field, the body did not hurt at all, which indicated that it was accustomed to such loads. I, too, was ready for them and easily endured all the hardships. I will not say that I liked this job.

This went on and on. Every day I more and more mastered this new world for me. Until all Alistair's knowledge in his head was available and known to me, I always found something to do. But now, when all the information was already in my head, I had absolutely nothing to do. The amount of data that I received in my homeworld was completely different here. I, if you think so, entered an information hunger. All the time, I wanted to know what was happening in other places ... To calm my appetite a little, I arranged with one of the villagers to teach me how to write and read. Without this, it is absolutely not worth getting into the big world.

All this training took me several months. Time passed so quickly because apart from physical work, I indulged in intellectual and absolutely did not intend to give up until I began to write and read freely. There weren't many books, of course, but they were still enough for me. It didn't matter what the book was about. Whether it was a history book, or a fairy tale, or something else ... But very quickly, and this was not enough for me. And to somehow continue to live and not howl from boredom and hunger for information, I decided that it was time to do magic.

I was like a blind kitten, without a teacher, without a coach and books in magic questions. Only a few contained hints of how to start using magic. I had knowledge from my past world, but the problem was that I could not easily grasp it. To do this, it was necessary to train and study. That is why I decided to start with the simplest method, namely meditation. I have a feeling that they will help me.

The world continued to live its own life, completely oblivious to the fact that I had appeared in its outback. And in general, I do not think that my existence somehow affects what is happening in the world. So far, nothing significant was done by me to cause a butterfly effect. You have to be a powerful authority to influence the world, and I am not.

Twice a year, a tiny caravan of merchants from the nearest town comes to our small village. They bought products from us, and they sold various tools and many other things useful and not. For me, it became like a breath of fresh air, which allowed me to discover what is happening in the open world, as well as try to somehow get hold of books or other things.

This small fair follows one plan, which has long been established. On the first day, merchants buy goods from ordinary people. They purchase various decorations, skins, and more. Besides, they buy quite a few different products that have been collected from the forest. On the first day, the villagers earn money, and on the second, they spend. On the second day, they buy tools and other necessary things, such as magic potions or something else.

"Argar," I turned to a relatively young merchant who had just started traveling with caravans. Before that, he traveled with his father as his assistant. That what I learned after talking to him.

"Ah, Ali," he turned to me. We hugged, and Argar pointed to a small tree stump. The merchants lived in tents, which they put on before any trading happens. The tents were made of fairly stiff fabric and did not let in rainwater.

A fire burned in the center of the merchants' camp. In such places, villagers and merchants liked to gather to talk about something or learn the news. There were many topics, especially among the villagers.

"Listen, would you buy something from me if I provided it next time?" I asked Argar.

He thought for a moment and then nodded shortly

"On the whole, yes," he said carefully. "But while I do not know what kind of product it is, I can not promise anything. You understand that profit is important to me. "

"Of course," I answered. Only a fool does not understand this. Merchants buy products from us on the cheap, and then sell them a little more expensive and earn money on this. I have nothing against it. "I understand that."

After that, the conversation didn't continue. First seeds fro trade were planted. We drank a glass of beer and then joined in the singing. Local residents did not have any unique entertainment. The same was true for me: fieldwork, meditation, and small bow training.

"Listen, Argar," I turned to the merchant when everyone had already left. "Can you get me a book for beginner magicians or something like that?"

"I think so," he replied and then added. "But it can cost a pretty penny."

"Let's see if I can pay," I answered him. "And if not, then you can always do an exchange, right?"

"You can try," the merchant answered with a smile. He was still young and not as picky as the older ones. Perhaps he will become the same as the others in the future, but I have a small hope that this will not be the case. Let's hope.

The idea that popped into my head was pretty simple, so simple that I wondered how I hadn't gotten around to it before. The locals had no sugar and no sugar products. When I asked my father, he did not understand what I meant. Although, with the fact that there are no sugar products, I went a little too far. There are sweets here, but I'm sure I can make some money from it.

The idea was to make a jam. The recipe was well known to me, but I still could not think of where to get sugar. It was challenging to buy it since the recipe for its production was kept secret by the alchemists. Argar told me this, and there was no point in not believing his words.

I realized that people here are relatively inert and narrow-minded for all the time I have been in this world. This opinion was formed in me after observing the inhabitants of our village. This bothered me very much because I did not want to become the same as them.

During one of my meditations, I remembered how you can get sugar in the wild. I had to collect the stems and rhizomes of the reeds, and then pour water over it. The recipe is straightforward. One kilogram of organic matter needs one liter of water. After that, you need to boil it until you get a "semi-solid" result. After that, you need to strain it until there are no remnants of roots or greens in the formed product. When this is done, you need to pour water again and boil again, and then strain one more time. This will clean the sugar from foreign inclusions.

I did not wait long but immediately got down to this business. At first, my father did not understand what I wanted to do very well, but then, when the first results appeared, he began to help me.

We worked in the field, and then we cooked sugar. After that, I went into the forest and picked berries for jam along with several other hunters. There could be other fruits, but for now, I decided to stick with berries. It was easy to cook them. The villagers immediately began to be interested in what we were doing, and as soon as we had the first finished product, they directly poured down to exchange their "booty" for my sweets. For them, it became an addition to an utterly boring and not fast life.

I cannot live as slowly as the villagers live in this world. I need movement and many other things. That is why I spent so much of my attention on various things. If a simple villager's daily routine looked very simple, then mine was at least twice as long.

So the villagers awoke at sunrise and went to breakfast, and after that, they dealt with the rare cattle they had. We didn't have any animals. We exchanged milk from the cows for our potatoes, and then for my jam. After that, the villagers went hunting or to work in the fields. Then there was lunch, work in the field towards dusk. In the evening, they talked or just had fun, and then there was a night of sleep. And so all year round.

My daily routine looked a little more lively and active. In the morning, I woke up and went to sports classes. Since I have no one to help me, I had to train myself with a stick and knives. I didn't have a sword. I did not try to portray any complicated pirouettes or dances. So I practiced straight strikes, trying to control them. After that, I spent some time stretching, and then, after rinsing, I went to breakfast. After breakfast, I went with my father to the field, where we did the work. If you work faster, you can make your part of the work go on a little quicker. This freed me up a time to collect the reeds and cut them into small pieces before cooking the sugar.

Lunchtime I spent on lunch itself, obviously, and on the repetition of morning workouts, "techniques" of swordsmanship and knives, and stretching. Then there was work in the field again. In the evening, I continued to reread or simply rewrite rare books. After that, I already worked on the sugar itself. Going to bed, I again plunged into meditation, trying to feel at least something.

Such work paid for itself pretty quickly. My stretch has become pretty good for my age. I can easily sit in different types of splits, and in general, I have become somewhat more flexible than I was before. The muscles have changed from hard work in the field and training, making me generally more robust and enduring. I had to eat quite a lot, but it was only a joy to me since I could hunt and practice my bow skills there.

The old life very quickly began to lose color. Yes, maybe I don't have anything particular in this life yet, but something tells me that it won't continue the same way. But how? I could not understand in any way ... It is a pity that I cannot yet compare my knowledge of the history of this world with the time in which I found myself. Although you need to continue to develop, not paying attention to anything.

Magic, for me, has become the very first goal, an obsession, I would say. I won't tell that I had a desire to stay here on the field and work. Knowing about the presence of magic, I, of course, had a great desire to discover it in myself. But, for a very long time, nothing worked for me. I did not believe that I did not possess any abilities, and my works were rewarded.

One early morning, when I was meditating, my consciousness slipped imperceptibly for me into a bizarre state in which I was able to feel something extraordinary, refreshing, and light. I was instantly kicked out of meditation from these sensations. But the feeling of a small and weird pea in my chest did not disappear anywhere. You know, I even had a feeling that can be compared to the surface of emptying in the toilet after prolonged abstinence. Very accurate comparison, I would say.

After that, this feeling did not disappear anywhere else. It was unusual and rather unique. It was impossible to compare it with anything. Even when I was working in the field, I could feel a slight pulsation of this pea, which released strange energy into the body while absorbing some of the smallest energy particles from the surrounding world into itself.

On this day, I no longer did any business, but only began to carefully study the pea-source. The state of meditation overtook me so quickly that I did not even have time to be surprised. It was so comfortable and familiar that I didn't even have the opportunity to compare to anything else. I saw a magnificent picture of a small pearl that glowed with a bright blue color. The size of this pearl was small, but that didn't bother me that much. I have magic ... Although it should be said not even that way.

I HAVE MAGIC!

These were the emotions I experienced throughout the next week until I ultimately got used to this feeling inside myself. I am sure that any person from my world would react in such a way to such an opening within himself. And now, I faced a dilemma about what to do and how to act to accommodate this magical energy and continue developing it. I have no reason not to build my powers. I need books, or better yet, a teacher or at least some kind of coach who can help me learn the basics and show me the way. If I continue to train myself, I don't think I can reach great heights so quickly. But in this world, some monsters can demolish entire cities with one spell. I want to be able to do no less but more, operate more extraordinary powers.

Of course, I was not going to sit so merely and do nothing. On the contrary, I tried to somehow take control of my source of power to get at least some scanty chance to master magic. Of course, this is very difficult, and I am sure that the techniques I use for training are entirely ineffective. I try to disperse the energy throughout the body and somehow saturate other objects and food with it. It worked incredibly well with jam. From the magical power that was in this jam, the taste has improved dramatically. In addition to that, the energy value of this jam for the body has increased. So to feel full, you had to eat not four spoons, but only two.

My father immediately suspected that something was wrong and decided to talk to me about it. I chose not to lie because I didn't see any point in this.

"Ali, my son," - he turned to me during the morning breakfast. "Tell me. Something happened to you recently? I may not be the smartest person in the kingdom, but I can see that. You have become more energetic."

"You're right, father," I answered him, sipping on freshly brewed tea. It was from some kind of herbs. "You understand that I started reading all these books for a reason."

Father thought for a while, starting to drink his tea with a light touch of alcoholic beverage. He likes to throw in something more substantial in the morning. But this does not take away from him the fact that he is a very hard-working person. Heavy thoughts in his head could be seen on a few frowning eyebrows and a mannered tapping around the mug's edges.

"I have only one explanation," he said and looked me straight in the eye. For a moment, it seemed to me that he was looking right into my soul, seeing it through and through. "Your magic has awakened."

"Yes," I answered him calmly and honestly.

"Hmm," he drawled and rubbed his nose. He liked to do that when he remembered something. I wonder what he will say now. "It was unexpected. My father told me that his grandfather was a magician. Not very strong, but a magician. Your great-great-grandmother really managed to fall in love with such a person. But then he was killed."

"Wow."

I was really surprised by this since I had never heard this story before. It's incredible what can sometimes surface, especially in moments like this.

"Yes," said the father, and then added. "I will not say that her parents were happy about this, but they did not contradict, since what can a simple country girl achieve in the big world without support or money ... Nothing. But then trouble happened. At that time, our king went to war against his neighbor, as there were not enough resources. During this fleeting war, your great-great-grandfather was killed. But the great-great-grandmother was already pregnant."

I just listened to this story and continued to wonder. It's too early to say anything, but overall, it's not very bad for me. What profit I will get from this I do not know, but still, I wonder if there was pure love between the ancestors of this body or the magician decided only to take advantage of the village girl's purity and naivety. Now you won't even know it.

"It turns out that the magic gift woke up only in me?" I asked him.

"It seems so," my father replied. "And that's good. You will need to talk to the headman and other villagers. On your own, you can improve the condition of the village."

Interesting idea. In general, I am not against it. But only if they buy or can hire me some kind of teacher or mentor. Even if they can buy me some books, it will be much better. The presence of a healer already improves the village's prestige, since he can brew various potions and even help during the active cultivation season.

"But I don't know anything. My strength is worthless if I don't know a single spell, not a single recipe ... " - I answered my dad contritely.

"It's not a problem," my father replied with a grin. "But, we will have to talk about it with the head Varanom."

Squinting, I began to stare at my father. I developed a severe interest in the headman. How is it that the headman has something to help me. I do not understand.

"Then let's go now?" I asked him, felling some rush in my veins.

"Of course," he replied, and then added. "I will only finish my tea."

I felt quite anxious, and I could not sit idle in one place. It looked like someone had put some kind of needle in my ass. I spun in my seat, and my father slowly, as if teasingly, continued to drink tea. Exhaling, I closed my eyes and instantly slipped into meditation. If I have time, then it does not need to be spent on insane excitement and restless spinning in the chair. Better to do something more useful.

"Okay, let's go," said the father, and put the mug aside. He got up and stretched slightly.

My father was already a middle-aged man, but he still had the same strength from his youth. The face was simple, with sharp cheekbones and an equally pointy chin. Wheat hair with a glimpse of gray hair was exposed to one and all. Blue eyes gazed at the world with hidden interest, as well as laziness. He could be compared to a bear in size. His clothes were simple and without much fancy. I didn't have it either expensive or according to the latest fashion in the capital.

In general, if you look into the reflection, then I am almost a complete copy of my father, only younger. The facial features are slightly different, as are the eyes. I had them green, the same as my mother, my father said. During the time that I have been here, it was difficult not to feel his hidden pain. The former Alistair did not understand any of this and considered his father a strange person because he was immersed in his thoughts when he looked at him for a long time.

We went outside, and I took a deep breath of fresh air. Here it was immaculate, with an admixture of wood and cooking food. I will not say that I do not like him. No ... on the contrary. I have never felt this in my life. There were no longer places that would not have been craped by the man in my past world, but here, such sites are found all the time. Our village is surrounded by this.

"Come on," my father nodded at a small shed, which lived through many things. Some of the tools we use are stored there. Besides, this is where my sugar is brewed. Every morning we check the giant barrels and add water if needed. Nobody is afraid of theft here, as it will be challenging for a thief to hide. The village is small, and if someone starts making jam using my technology, then everything will immediately become apparent. With such people, a conversation is short. Making an impromptu gallows outside the village is easy. The corpse, after that, after a few hours, can no longer be found. Around our village is inhabited by various creatures, from entirely harmless, to those you need to immediately run away from.

"What's there?" I asked him.

"You will see," the father tried to say in a mysterious tone. It sounded not so mysterious but straightforward. But I said nothing. If he wants to have a little fun, then let him have it. It will not harm me in any way, but it will bring pleasure to my father.

We went inside. Most of the things, if all of them were known to me. I learned how to use them, I knew how to repair if the need arises. Alistair's memory was vibrant with such information. Life in the village leaves its mark.

My father walked over to a rather large box and pushed it aside. Behind it was a rather large cache, with a small chest. There was no lock on the chest, but from the layers of dust, one could well understand that this chest had been standing untouched for quite a long time. The father pulled it out and then sneezed. The dust was even more than he thought. I just chuckled at that. Ali himself nor I had ever known anything about that chest. The previous owner of this body had no idea that there was such a chest here. I wonder what is there?

Father threw back the lid and quickly pulled out several small trunks. They were drawn by magical energy. I was able to determine this immediately. I almost salivated. Hurry to find out what it is.

Having received these trunks, I sat down on the floor and immediately began to open them. One contained a small box of ancient potions. They gleamed with a light bluish light. I don't know how good they are to consume, so it's best to put them aside. The second bag contained the clothes of a magician: robe, gloves, and some kind of boots. They also pulled light magic, but so weak that it was almost impossible to feel without touching. And the last trunk was really a treasure. There were several books and a diary. These items did not have magic in them, but I smelled something essential to me.

Without thinking twice, I opened the first page of the diary and read what was written there. As soon as the first lines became clear to me, I immediately began to turn other pages and grabbed some books. It really was an impressive treasure, especially for me. Perhaps for other wizards, all these books and diary are worthless, but not for me. There were guides on becoming a wizard, controlling your magical energy, and initial training to increase your reserve with several spells. The value of all these books for me is even greater than gold by weight. But this is now. With these books, I can begin my path of magic.

"Wow," was all I could say. "Here is a whole treasure for me."

"Of course," my father nodded. "This chest was passed on in our family and waited for the appearance of the wizard. So, I'm passing it on to you. Not it is yours."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. I even had a tear as I was touched by this gesture from my father. For such knowledge, it is not a sin to work as a local healer.

"That's not all," he said. "Yes, and you do not need to thank me. As soon as you become a wizard, it immediately became yours. And to add, you are my son ... My only son. I couldn't do it differently."

I did not know what to answer him, as I felt sorry for him even for a moment. I am no longer your son, whom I knew ... His soul flew away somewhere, and in its place, I appeared. This is a very unpleasant situation, and I cannot predict how he will react to such news. Of course, I won't say anything to him. There is no need to tempt fate.

The headman's house was in the center of our small village. It was effortless to get there, as it was only a few yards from our house. Between us lived a small family of hunters who earn their living by hunting and a blacksmith with his young apprentice. How it happened that our small village has its own blacksmith, I do not know. This makes me a little suspicious since only the headman can invite someone here. He has been here for a very long time and even managed to start a family. His disciple was not from our village, but from a neighboring one, several dozen miles away. Sometimes an "embassy" comes to us from that other village to exchange something for something.

The headman's house was slightly larger than the other homes, but this did not raise anyone's questions. It was he who was responsible for collecting the tax from ordinary peasants towards the kingdom. Our village could not give much, so large caravans rarely went to us. Through the headman, we could ask for a connection with other cities, since he had a specially trained postal raven. I often saw such ravens convey some important information or instructions to the headman, and he replied by sending his notifications via the same raven.

"Good morning," the big blacksmith greeted us. It was a whole head taller than me and broader by almost one and a half times. Bestial power breathed from him. Rumor says that he can tie a horseshoe into a knot with his own hands, and then untie it. I don't know if this is true or not.

"Hi, Varanage," his father replied with a wave of his hand. I also nodded my head. "We are here to see the headman."

"Oh," he was surprised. "Did something happen?"

"Not yet," his father replied with a grin, then added. "But I think soon you will find out."

"Yes?" - Varanage said raising an eyebrow in a questioning gesture. "Okay, I'm not going to detain you.

We walked past his house and quickly entered the headman's yard. Through the window, one could see that he and his family were just sitting down to eat. The headman's family is not very large: himself, his wife, and his young daughter. The headman's daughter is the youngest child in our village. She is only sixteen years old. For example, I am already nineteen.

The father knocked on the door. After some time, the door was opened for us by an elderly man. His black hair was heavily gray. Lively, eyes examined us carefully and then allowed us to pass inside.

"Good morning," he said. "Glad to see you at my house so early."

"And you don't have to be ill, headman," said his father and bowed his head a little. I repeated his movement reflexively. "We came to you with the news. Good or bad is up to you to decide."

"Yes, let me decide. So what news you have?" - asked the headman. He looked at me closely. "If you came to woo my daughter, then I immediately say no. We must do it following all the rules and traditions."

"No, we are here not about this topic," said the father calmly. "We came on a different issue."

"Come on, speak," he said. "Don't pull the wolf by the tail, I have many things to do that need my attention."

"My son is a magician," his father said with hidden pride. "I have distinguished it since I lived with him under the same roof for quite some time."

"A magician," he said, and then stared at me intently. "Well, then show me your spells ..."

"Forgive me, but I don't know any spells," I replied calmly. The look of this headman did not frighten me at all. I have already met such in my past world, and have already managed to develop at least some immunity. I did not feel any fear of this person.

"So you don't know spells," he said and nodded his head. "I get it. Then you cannot be called a magician. Do you have any proof that you can use magical energy?"

"No," I told him.

"Then get out of my house," he said, pointing his fingers at the door. "Without proof, it's only a pointer to the skies."

My father and I said nothing more and just left the house. It is a pity that this situation has turned this way. I never thought that the headman would need proof. Although in some ways, he is right. If I cannot prove that I am a magician, then there is no use from me. I don't know what my father wanted to achieve ...

"It's a shame," I said in a calm tone.

"Don't be upset, Ali," said his father. "I believe you. Now you will study your great-great-grandfather's books, and then you will show the elder that he was wrong."

"I don't want to show him anything," I answered my father. "If he didn't want to believe me now, then later, I don't want to help him somehow."

"So you won't help the village?" asked the father calmly.

"If one of the residents turns to me, I will help," I answered my father after several minutes of reflection. "But if it is the headman, then most likely, I will refuse him."

The way he put us out the door is not very pleasant to me. He did it like we were some enemies that are happy to eat his time. I didn't like this attitude, and the fact that he is the headman does not matter. I simply won't forgive him. I have never been a person who so easily forgives another. Sometimes, in my past world, it worked sideways to me.