The Prince of Astoria-Chapter 65: LXV - SNOW IN THE DESERT

Fifteen years ago, somewhere in Northern Africa...

Jeremy sat on the porch of the wooden building, staring out blankly into the distance. He brought his knees up to his chest and shivered as the blistering cold blew past him. He wore a simple wool shirt, frayed at the edges, and trousers of a similar quality.

He stretched his legs out and dug his toes into the snow right below where he sat.

He sighed and thought to himself, "I hope my fingers and toes freeze and snap off so I don’t have to endure this torture anymore."

He took his feet out of the snow and brought his knees to his chest once more.

"I hate my family for forcing me here," Jeremy thought, "I understand the reasoning why now. Or at least I think I do. But that hasn’t made me hate them less. In fact, it seems like that hatred is only growing."

Jeremy groaned and stepped off of the porch, cringing as it crunched under his feet.

"I despise them for being poor. I despise them for selling me off, despite my cries and pleas. And no matter how much I try to put myself in their shoes, no matter how badly I want to forgive them, that resentment is just lingering. It won’t go away."

Jeremy kneeled down and grabbed a handful of snow before crushing it between his fingers.

"I wish they would’ve tried harder. I wish they would’ve attempted to find another way. I can’t wait to escape this place. Not to go back and live with them, but just so I can tell them one last time how I really feel about what they did. But it’s not just them..."

Jeremy lifted his shirt and stared at the perfectly defined musculature of his body.

"I hate myself for being born special. For having this body. The only reason my parents even had the opportunity to sell me off, is because this body made me desirable to the master. A perfect candidate to be his student."

He dropped his shirt and kicked the snow at his feet.

"Samurai," He said the word aloud accidentally.

"I’d never even heard that word until that man came to our home," Jeremy gritted his teeth, "When I looked it up, all I saw were Japanese traditions and Japanese warriors. What do samurai have to do with Africa? It’s been two years since I was forced here, and I still don’t know."

Jeremy walked further from his home, and he shoved his hands in his pants.

"That’s not the worst part, though. Most of all I hate—"

Jeremy’s train of thought was interrupted, and he froze as he noticed a small orange fox a short distance away, staring at him with piercing golden eyes.

Jeremy walked back to the porch and stared at it.

"A fox? Here? That’s rare," Jeremy muttered aloud.

As Jeremy moved and sat, the fox remained motionless, only its eyes followed his motions.

The fox’s flame-colored fur coat stood out against the blinding white snow. Each breath from the animal made a small cloud in the frozen air.

He stared at the animal for a moment before pinching his forehead and dismissively shooing it away.

The fox hissed and turned around, walking into the cold of the blizzard.

Jeremy watched the fox’s retreating form and noticed it shivering violently, barely able to stand up straight.

"Where is his pack?" Jeremy thought, "Do foxes even travel in packs? Either way, I would feel guilty if I left him out here in the elements. Especially after he looked to me for help."

"Hey fox!" Jeremy yelled out.

The fox immediately stopped walking and turned back toward Jeremy.

"Can it understand me? Or did it just respond to the sound of my voice?" Jeremy questioned in his mind.

Jeremy shook the thought off and patted the spot next to him, "You can come in here and warm up. I’ll even share some of my food with you later, so stop making that face."

The fox reluctantly walked toward him before jumping onto the porch and curling up to Jeremy. A small smile crept onto Jeremy’s face as he petted the fur of the fox and stared out into the distance.

"Number Seven!" A stern voice ripped through the sublime calm and snapped Jeremy back to reality.

Jeremy immediately stood up and kneeled down next to the fox.

"Stay here, okay? I’ll be back in a few hours, and I’ll make sure to bring food."

The fox purred and remained curled up with its eyes closed.

Jeremy stepped off the porch once again and walked around the small wooden house. He weaved through a series of similar wooden houses as he made his way to the courtyard. All the houses were distinctly Japanese, complete with tatami mats, lattice doors and little other furniture.

Jeremy entered the courtyard, filled with young men of a similar age to him holding wooden swords. One young man kneeled in the middle, blood dripping, loomed over by an older dark skin man with long white dreads.

The kneeling man panted heavily, "Master Yasuke, please. I can’t take anymore today. I need a break."

The older man, Yasuke, kicked the young man in the side and sent him flying across the snow.

"Do you think your enemies will show you mercy? Do you think they will allow you to have a break just because you’ve had enough?"

"He always says the same thing," Jeremy sighed, "He frames it like he’s preparing us for warfare, but I think he just gets pleasure out of this."

Yasuke turned his head and spotted Jeremy, "Number seven. You’re here. It seems number sixteen will be out of commission for a while; would you like to take his place?"

The students all let out snickers and chuckles at the comment.

Jeremy stepped in front of Yasuke and stared at him resolutely, "I will. Do I at least get a weapon this time?"

Yasuke looked around and picked up a branch halfway submerged in the snow. He tossed it to Jeremy lazily.

"There. Your weapon."

Jeremy caught the branch and looked at Yasuke with contempt.

Yasuke frowned, "You have a gift, Jeremy. Myostatin Muscular Hypertrophy. Your parents told me that’s what you were diagnosed with. You have significantly more muscle mass than the rest of us. Plus, you’re my star student! You’ve taken to this training much quicker than your peers, I have to give you some kind of handicap."

"This doesn’t have anything to do with that," Etienne thought, "You’ll take any excuse to bring someone down to size. To put them in their place. Since I’m strong, this is the easiest way for you to do that to me."

Jeremy swung the branch and held it out in front of him, "Fine. I know I don’t have a choice, anyway. So, will I be facing you today, Master?"

Yasuke shook his head and stepped back. He pointed to four of the students and they all stepped up, brandishing wooden swords, "No. You’ll be facing these four until they pass out, or you do."

One of the students held his sword above his head and grinned, "Yeah. Take it easy on us, star student. We’re just lowly humans compared to you."

"Number three," Jeremy thought to himself, "So that’s what this is about? You’re jealous?"

Jeremy’s eyes widened, and he looked between Yasuke and the other students, "Four? You want us to go four against one?"

Yasuke let out a condescending laugh, "Is that a problem? Number three informed me he saw you doing some private training in between your moping sessions. I want to see how much further ahead you’ve gotten."

Yasuke raised his arm in the air, "Now...begin!"

____________________________________________________________

Jeremy returned to his detached home later that night, bloody scratches and bruises covering his body but his expression still remained the same as when he left. Jeremy closed the door behind him and sat down in the middle of his room with a sack in his hand.

The orange fox jumped up and excitedly walked over to him. Jeremy smiled weakly and pulled a stale piece of bread from the sack. He broke it in half and sat it in front of the fox.

Slowly chewing on his own half of the bread, he said, "It looks like my private training paid off. I was able to fend them off and win."

He petted the fox’s fur as it ate the bread happily, "I discovered something else too, fox. I believe my master is...scared of me. I haven’t sparred against him directly in a month. He has his other staff teach me techniques and swordplay now. I believe he knows I can beat him, and if I do, that would undermine what little authority he has."

Jeremy brought his knees to his chest and swallowed the last of the bread.

"Don’t worry, fox. Soon, we won’t be feeding on stale bread and struggling to keep ourselves warm. I will use this gift, this body I hate and get us out of here.