"You helped today, kid!" A seemingly innocent phrase. But Dragomir wasn't going to be fooled by that casual, feigned innocence. He would never let his guard down in front of this particular person, never for this person who always seemed to have ulterior motives.
Werm sat down next to the young man, something Dragomir hadn't expected. He was already used to having only his own mind for company, not other people's. But he should have gotten used to the frequent interrogation sessions by now.
"I didn't do much, Mr. Werm. You were the one who killed the monster." The boy seemed uncomfortable with his response.
He really lacked social skills, but the real problem here was that he didn't like being bothered when he was eating.
And he also hated talking between meals. He preferred to enjoy his lunch in silence.
"I'll stop being modest, young man. I recognize a good martial arts move when I see one, and yours was a backhanded throw. Not just anyone can do that. Where did you learn it?" The experienced wizard's eyes analyzed the boy's reaction, who didn't want to look at the older man and only focused on his own food.
"I learned after years in this mine." The boy insisted on giving a direct answer, without a second suggestion.
But that wouldn't convince the veteran.
"Boy, don't play innocent." The wizard seemed a little agitated. He had lost patience to maintain his act. He wanted to get straight to the point, without further beating around the bush.
"Your aura is golden and noble, your movements are clearly forged by intense training. Just tell me, what is your surname?" He spoke impatiently, but without containing anger in his questioning. His words only carried a genuine, intrusive curiosity that could no longer be held back.
"I don't understand your curiosity about this matter, Mr. Werm. But I don't have a surname, I'm not noble, and my family only sold me to this place. There's nothing more to know about me." The young man responded curtly, assertive in his reply, attempting to deflect the older man's questions.
But Werm wasn't going to leave these conversations without satisfying his curiosity.
"You're not the only bastard child in this place, so I don't understand why you act like your past is such a secret." His voice carried a discontent that didn't match his supposed image of wisdom.
This reaction was almost childish; his posture attempted to convey seriousness combined with curtness. He wouldn't stop bothering him anytime soon.
"I understand you don't want to share your probably traumatic origins, but you don't need to feel threatened and cornered because of your secret." The older man spoke in an attempt to create a safe space for the boy to open up more.
It didn't work!
The boy stood up from his seat. By this point, he had already finished his lunch, so he no longer had any reason to be there.
"I have nothing to say, Mr. Werm. My parents sold me because I was a waste and a nuisance. There's nothing interesting for you to know about me, I have no secrets to reveal, and much less anything that would interest you."
The young man began to walk back into the refectory, leaving the experienced mage behind. Another miner approached Werm with a question to be answered. "Mr. Werm, why are you so curious about this boy's past and true family?" He raised an eyebrow slightly, a different kind of doubt from Werm's covering his face.
He wasn't trying to gather information, he just had a clear question about something that didn't seem to make sense to him; "I understand your curiosity, we all have that when it comes to him, but what makes you so insistent?"
The experienced mage watched the young man walk away into the distance, intrigued by the truth behind this silent boy. A truth that was a source of great curiosity for those around him.
He also rose from his seat, his posture that of a serious man with respectable attitudes. He looked meaningfully at the man before him, his mind pondering the words that would describe his thoughts.
"Nobility, Royalty, and similar titles attest to a higher status than others." Finally, the words were spoken. His statement, laden with personal and significant themes for himself—something so private—created discomfort for anyone who might want to hear it.
"That's the meaning behind those titles." His speech continued, now laden with a certainty born of years of experience. "But among the people who have them, there are two types: those who think they are worthy of having them, and those who truly are!" His expression was serious; he didn't seem to be joking about this matter, a question of extreme seriousness and inflexible rigidity.
"That boy isn't normal, I can't accept that. That boy… He's too special for a place like this, it doesn't make sense for him to be here. I can't ignore the fact that someone like him is here with people like us." His posture became more reserved, his confident gaze fixed on the subject of the conversation in the distance, a naturally outstanding boy, but this effect was twice as strong in the wizard's eyes.
His face moved away from the reach of others' gazes. His voice seemed devoid of any emotion, almost robotic as he processed his own future words.
One thing was certain in this reaction: he believed every word, but felt a revolt churning in his stomach.
"A star belongs in the sky, not among the pigs!" Just a statement, almost a parable in its meaning.
The miner pondered the old wizard's words. He didn't understand what was so different about this boy, but he didn't disbelieve the old man's words, even though he was still filled with doubt.
And Werm didn't stay there to answer them; he too went back inside the refectory.
The day passed, all the work was finished. The miners returned to their homes, and Dragomir walked alone as always.