The attendant looked over Zaril'n, the boy had a unusual look to him, his hair was remarkably black, he had red eyes or maybe orange.
'Could they be related?' the man asked himself. 'No I don't think so, one look like a field rat and the other looked unaware?'
But the man lost interest as he came to seeing the boy's attire, he was just another peasant.
"One coin,"
The boy really didn't want a random stranger to pay for him, but he was in a position where he was against refusing. He didn't want to go home empty handed, he had to get in the Academy this time.
Zaril'n loosen his bag and pulled out a pouch, the coins jingled hitting against there own. Instead of counting the shells to make a coin Zaril'n spotted one in his pouch and took one handing it to the attendant. The man scoffed upon retrieving the coin.
The man then gave the boy his listing number. The boy took it with shaky hands looking at it.
"My listing," he whispered. He looked at the engraving with his name and number,
Harris Herman
Candidate 521
Harris looked over the small hand held paper with a few ash coloured engraved swirls. Harris couldn't help himself, but the weep, he then turned to thank the boy who had just solved him problem,
"Thank you so-" but immediately as he turned he realized the boy was already gone. He looked scanning the crowd and finally spotted the boy clutching to his belonging. Harris ran to the shed where he had had a familiar person holding onto his belongings.
Harris hurriedly scooped up his bags thanking the woman who was selling seashells and ran off. The woman chuckled waving him off. Harris ran bumping into people and trying not to fall over. By the time he reached his savior the boy was passing by the corridors.
"Hey! Wait a moment!"
Zaril'n was unaware the call meant for him and kept moving. Harris ran forward and when he reached the boy he pulled on his bag strap a little. Zaril'n spun around immediately holding his bag even tighter. His eyebrows were knitted, but when he noticed the familiar brown hair boy he straightened his expression out, but he kept a tight grip on his bag.
'Is he going to rob me? Like what are those people call- hmm bandits,' Zaril'n thought to himself.
Harris could tell it was his first time in the city.
"I wanted to thank you for what you did earlier," Harris thanked breathing heavily.
"You're welcome," Zaril'n answered ready to move again. He needed to find a seat.
Harris felt nervous, the boy before him words were sharp.
"My me is Harris Herman," Harris started trying to lighten the atmosphere.
"Okay," Zaril'n answered looking distracted as he wanted to leave.
Zaril'n couldn't exactly remember what his first conversation with his Mister was like, he spent most of the time listening and when he learned to speak he kept talking and Ehzia listened. It was something similar with the children at the church too, they were always talking and he mostly listened.
But he did get to talk with Xavier, but how did that happen, he simply just spoke. He didn't feel scared or reluctant even though he knew Xavier knew his true nature. Probably because Xavier hardly spoke.
Harris stood silent and awkward, seeing there was no longer a conversation Zaril'n started walking, he had to go to the Academy too. As he entered a space of the Colosseum where most of the participants were settled he looked for a seat. Harris followed silently, the more he looked at the boy he could see the boy was focused on the trial ahead and he had a glint in his eyes.
Harris decided he wouldn't bother the boy and maybe he should stay focus too, after everything he would thank his savior properly and maybe ask for his name.
Zaril'n handed his bag over to an attendant that was collecting bags, at first Zaril'n was hesitant, but seeing that others were doing so he agreed to hand over his bag. He then found a seat mostly following the crowd.
Most of the front were seats were already filled so he had no choice but to sit further up. He climbed the stairs higher up and finally found a seat in the twenty-eight row.
All the seats were a white squared block stone.
Harris who was still following Zaril'n sat two rows up. He had intentions to sit beside his savior, but he was too slow in taking a seat.
Exactly at 9 am all the participants were seated and so were the onlookers. Everyone sat excitedly with impatience. The participants were separated with class, most of the nobles and those of royal blood sat elegantly with a few hush chatter.
Those of lower and middle chatted excessively as they could not contain their excitement.
The onlookers were mostly outside as only the rich, royal and those who saved years just to have a seat.
'DING'
Everyone heard a thunderous sound that rang through the air, it wasn't deafening, but loud enough to get everyone's attention. At an instant everyone sat still eyes forward to the ground.
"Good Morning everyone," a voice greeted, but no one was seen.
Suddenly a puff of smoke exploded onto the stage below and a man appeared.
The royals and those of class smiled pleased with the announcer and the lower class participants eyes glittered with interest.
"For you all who are unaware I am Aizen Rwight and today I'll be your announcer," the young man with light blue hair announced smoothly. He wore a crisp suit with a cape and emblems. He looked modest, kind and gentle.
"Now we are already over two minutes and I doubt the judges want to waste another minute, so without further ado we'll start calling participants. It's very simple, but to make this fair we won't have royals fighting those of lower class, but a few of you might be unfortunate as the royals are less in numbers,"
As Aizen mentioned the judges he pointed in the direction and everyone noticed eleven figures higher up that were seated. No one could help themselves but to point or clap.
Just as told Aizen called the participants by their numbers and they came to the arena. The rules were simple. Defeat your opponent by knocking them out or have them forfeit.
Zaril'n watched intrigued as the participants walked up to the stage and did their best to succeed, he made sure to capture every moment in his mind. Harris couldn't help but to look over at his savior and he could tell the boy had high admiration.
A board stretched out table rested on the outer side of the area, and on it rested weapons for the participants choosing.
Royals and those of class brought specific and well crafted weapons for their use, so there was no need to take charity. But even still it was a rule that all weapons should be crafted with natural matters, gift-free materials.
On entering all weapons are throughoutly checked.
"Candidate 275 and 286!"
Only one boy got up moving his way to the front.