The tale of Ettagelo begins

A child around ten years old rushes out of his house and hops along as he puts his shoe on his foot in a hurry. Excitement is written all over his face, he couldn't wait to gather up his friends as usual. He goes to six different houses and knocks quickly. "LET'S GO!" He yells. Each one of the kids, varying in ages between six and twelve, bursts out of their door and they begin to make their way to "The Truth Seer", Wint Vero. His life story fascinates them to no end, they've gone to his house to hear his tale for a week straight. More kids became interested by this point and decided to follow the typical group, though all of their parents told them not to bother the man as he made his morning meal.

I gather my prepared logs and put them under my skillet pit, setting them ablaze once they're spread out enough. I hadn't even prepared my break-feast bread yet and I already heard them running towards me, the same group of children as usual. It seems there's more with them this time actually. Had I become such a legend to the point where they never get tired of hearing about what I had done in my younger years? HAHA, perhaps I have, though I am humbled by my old age now. They all come to a stop, pushing each other around slightly to make room to sit and hear well. "Will you please tell us again, Mr. Wint?" The oldest of the children asked. He knew my answer so he sat down after asking, he had the respect to still ask though. I break off a piece of my bread and throw it into my skillet to toast. With a slight smile I say, "Of course! Just don't let yourselves be frightened, I can't leave out details nor leave out the full truth, and if you tell your parents I'll surely be in too much of a coma to tell any stories." They all nodded and broke off their pieces of bread to eat while they listened; youth is delightful. I clear my throat and begin to tell my tale.

My story begins when I became aware of the world at only five years old; the time when I first experienced my truth sight. An unusual ability to see, hear, feel, and experience all things true when I touch something associated with terrible lies. At that age I couldn't understand what was going on, I had hugged my "loving" mother, then I began to see a horrible vision. This awakening of my visions made all of my senses feel like they were shaking violently. My hearing distorted in a way that felt loud and quiet at the same time, my vision began to turn black, and I felt as if I was being pulled underwater, then I was suddenly pulled out into a bright area. As my eyes adjusted to the light I saw my mother and father through an odd fixed perspective. I saw my parents contemplated casting my infant self over the edge of the Ettagelo. There were no emotions to be seen on their faces nor in their eyes as my mother held me by my leg over the edge of the country's pillar. "This might be best for him... but if he could become a noble, he could guarantee us a better place in Ettagelo, Elina. Without this possibility, we are dead ourselves." My father said. "What if he can't achieve that status? You expect me to slave away cooking and cleaning up after this disgusting creature until he's become useful?" Her voice was cold, she sounded like she truly didn't see me as a human. After a few moments of thought, her body relaxed from its aggressive state. She didn't quite seem relieved that she had to choose to not end my life, she just blankly stared at my infant self. She then moved back away from the edge and dropped me on its hard surface. As I saw myself hit the ascendant stone, I snapped back to reality.

Tears began to fill my eyes uncontrollably. With a forced smile my mother said "You love my hugs so much they bring you to tears, Wint? How adorable, I love you too". I didn't feel inclined to lie and say I loved her, but my face awkwardly made a smile to make it look as though I had. I couldn't tell a lie, I didn't feel the need to and I was sure I couldn't but it seemed others did it naturally. Some of them didn't know what the truth was. Some of them were told nothing but lies from others, but had the warmest of hearts. Ettagelo held both good and bad things, I hadn't experienced the full extent of either until much later in my life.

My visions are triggered by touch; the person I'm touching must have untrue emotions, false intentions, or must be telling a lie either to themselves or me for these visions to display what is true. When a person has false emotions, I can feel what they truly feel. When a person has untrue intentions, I can see what they truly intend to do. When someone lies, I can see what is true in a foggy vision. When a person meets all three requirements of my truth sight at the same time I get incredibly detailed visions, showing me all three truths at once.

I had enough intelligence to not let myself speak of this ability though, so I kept quiet. If I saw a vision that made me change my emotions after I would have to use careful and convincing wording to get by for the first year. I had to condition my mind to not react, to not feel for some of the disgusting things I had seen. This proved the most difficult when bumping into the Pillar Baron. He stood at a great seven feet tall, wearing armor on his torso, legs, and half way down his arms; it was far stronger in look than in actual material. This was to make any enemy he might have doubt their ability to pierce it, the armor was weak to show his resolve to accept any scar he would get from his failure to avoid an attack and keep it as a reminder to be better. His hands had veins running down them as if he was always ready to kill someone, but he spoke with a deep soft tone and lighthearted manner in his voice. He had a jaw that could break stone, and teeth that were maintained as if he chewed them often. His weapon was a specially made halberd, made of ascendant stone. An extremely rare material in Ettagelo that was neither metal, nor diamond, nor stone. It was more pure, more resilient, and nearly impossible to scratch. This weapon showed citizens that his mighty swing would not be stopped by any armor or defense if he needed to use it. His job was to keep the entrance to the lower realm guarded, he would only leave his pillar post in place of a less threatening guard when tax collections were being conducted since everyone was forced into the wealth hall and accounted for before the collections began. He would stand near the exit to ensure no one tried to leave, he was a mighty force that the three higher nobles used as a deterrent for many things.

During the collection of my district I had turned into the Pillar Baron by accident due to the crowd pushing us back. I was knocked off my feet, his leg was like hardened steel. His eyes turned down to me as if a fly hit him. He crouched down and using his index finger and thumb he grabbed my shirt and lifted me onto my feet. "Sorry about that kid, be more mindful next time." He said, in a very deep yet soft tone. When he proceeded to pat my head, my vision started, I saw him torturing me. In such a horrible way that it still haunts me to think about it. He would have surely killed me for this if not for being in a public area. His face showed quite the opposite, calm and collected with seemingly warm concern. I felt how much he hated children, it felt like a burning fire spreading across his very soul. How could someone feel such malice? The vision was quick, but it shook me to my core. He stood up to continue guarding. I had to snap myself out of my fear-stricken state through willpower, though I only had a small amount due to my age and mental capacity at the time. It felt like being frozen with a thick layer of ice over me and breaking it off with brute strength. I unconsciously felt the need to return to my father's side, though he wasn't much of a relief himself. The collection officers liked to keep the lines moving quickly, so we weren't there long. They liked the control over our district to be tight, to let the adults know they had chosen this.

That was a noble? I thought to myself as I sat at the dinner table with my parents, trying to understand how terrible the country I lived in could be. "They took twice as much as last time, Elina. How are we supposed to keep going like this? We can barely afford potatoes as it is, and it's nearly the only thing available for us to eat here. My father said, careful not to raise his voice to avoid being heard outside of our house. My mother said nothing, but she gestured her eyes to me slowly. As she did, my father's bad mood turned to me as well. He was going to let the weight of their disparity fall solely on my ability to complete the noble teachings and advance our family into a high status district. I was staring at my potato stew and thinking about a bunch of mixed thoughts that I couldn't organize. "Do you not like it, Wint? My father asked. My thoughts snapped away and I looked up at him. "I do, I'm just not hungry tonight, I feel like if I eat another bowl of potato stew this week I may turn into a potato myself. I responded, in an attempt to note my desire for something different but in a joking tone. "Well, regardless of if you'll turn into a potato or not, eat it. His voice raised slightly, acknowledging my joke but also taking it as an ungrateful remark. "We aren't about to waste it on you and you'll need your strength for your first day of noble teachings tomorrow." I picked up a spoonful of potatoes and took a bite, it disintegrated in my mouth the second it hit my tongue. These were the same expired potatoes from the day before... I felt greatly nauseous, so I spit it out. Which was quickly met with a backhanded slap from my father for going against his demand to eat. "Get out of this house for today, where you go does not matter to me but if you aren't back here for your mother to dress you before school tomorrow then you can expect far worse from me. I feel disgusted looking at your ungrateful self anyway." My mother seemed like she wanted to smile, clearly happy that they would get a whole night to themselves in the house. My father began to push me out the door, I didn't even have my shoes on. SLAM. The door was closed and locked swiftly, as I began walking away I heard their laughter and joy as they had rid themselves of me for the evening. I felt great pain, pain I didn't know how to process. It felt an endless amount of sharp needles piercing my flesh, the pain never seemed to subside when I was around them during that time in my life. I never understood why they hated me as much as they did, I was their child yet they wanted nothing more than to be away from me.

The only place I knew to go was to "Octo" Tony's house, he was a reasonably decent elder in our district. He was a proclaimed "Master of eight great skills", he was truly worthy of this title. Skill one, he was able to bake without a recipe and make beautiful and unique creations. Skill two, due to his baking, rats would wander into his house enchanted by the sweet delicious smells that filled his kitchen. Tony had a kind heart, he couldn't kill or make them go away for he saw that as cruel and rude. So he became a great rat tailor, he crafted the finest clothes for his "guests" so that they could enjoy a proper snack with him in a dignified way. Skill three, he could tell a story so wild and unique that you'd forget any worry you had. Skill four, he had a special shoe instrument of his own design that he would play. He would plant his foot firmly on the ground, grab his special laces, and strum away. Skill five, he could make his mustache dance in ways that should be impossible. Skill six, he could control each of his limbs as if they had minds of their own. He would often use this skill to write four stories at once. Skill seven, he could change his voice to be nearly identical to anyone that he's heard before, women too! The final skill I wasn't quite sure of at that point, he never said anything about it but I was sure it had to be the most interesting. I'll save that one for later, it's important.

When I knocked on his door it didn't take him long to open it. He didn't need to ask me why I was there, he understood how my parents were. He just smiled and asked if I was hungry, I nodded yes and wiped my tears away as I walked inside. "We'll make break-feast bread then!" Do you mean breakfast? I asked. "Oh no, it is break-FEAST bread, break one piece off and toast it in a pan, it'll fill you up like you just ate a grand feast; a smile lit up his face as he spoke about it. "I'll show you how to make it and you'll see for yourself, Wint." He walked me to his kitchen and lifted me onto the wobbly stool he had, I swayed side to side until I found my balance. I was just tall enough to lay my arms on the counter while standing on my toes. He thought for a minute, possibly creating the recipe at that very moment. He began grabbing a bunch of things from his cabinet and had his arms filled as he walked over to the counter near me. He set everything down and told me to listen to the recipe and to keep it a secret between me and him. "Not even my grandkids knew the secret." He said with a pained chuckle. I learned later on that he was lying, but it was to cheer me up like telling them the same thing did for them when they needed it. He was truly a great man, one I could respect. Such a silly person for our district too. He held up each ingredient and told me how much to use. ''Four medium shakes from a bread flour sack, eight circles of honey, half a stick of chopped-up butter, three pinches of sugar, one pinch of salt, bloomed yeast in a quarter glass of warm water, and as many dashes of cinnamon as you want!"

We took turns kneading the dough together until it was hydrated enough to be soft and smooth. "Now we let it rise for a bit in a warm place, don't disturb it." We put it in a bread pan and covered it up with a towel, we then went into the next room to wait for the dough to rise. In his living room he had a modest bookshelf with stories that all had his name on them. Three stood out most to me. The Tale of Frog-Wind Peak, Pilimour's Scrimmage, and Of Blood and Steel. I couldn't decide which one I should pick up though.