There, in the middle of the bustling market, stood a figure he never thought he would see again. A boy—no, a man now—his old disciple, standing proudly behind a stall, offering pieces of meat to passing customers. But this wasn't just any meat. It was... blessed.
'How...?"
The smell wafted toward him—smoky, rich, with an undercurrent of something strangely sacred. The air seemed to hum with an unspoken promise, and the crowd that gathered around the stall appeared almost entranced, drawn to the cuts of meat as if they were being pulled by some unseen force. The old man's heart skipped a beat, it smelled delicious!
He hadn't seen the disciple in so long. Not since he had left, full of fire, eager to make his mark on the world. He had been a sharp, curious soul—always questioning, always learning. But this? This was unexpected. The disciple's hands moved swiftly, slicing through the meat with a reverence that almost seemed religious. The old man's chest tightened. What had happened to him?
Stepping forward, he pushed through the crowd, feeling the weight of their eyes as they watched the transaction unfold. The scent of the meat, rich and pungent, mixed with the aroma of the bustling town—fresh bread, leather, a hint of lavender from a nearby stall. But it was the meat that dominated the air now, as if it had claimed this corner of the market for itself. And then, he was there, standing face to face with his old disciple.
The young man didn't see him at first, his focus on his work, his eyes flicking from the pieces of meat to the hands of his customers. But then—then those eyes met his. And for a moment, everything in the world stopped. The market faded. The voices dimmed.
"Master?" The word came out softly, as if it hadn't been spoken in years. His voice had changed, deepened, but there was still a trace of the young boy in it.
The old man stared at him, blinking as though seeing a ghost. His disciple—the one who had left to seek enlightenment, to understand the mysteries of life—was now here, in this town, in the center of all this noise, selling blessed meat, how was he there when he was supposed to be an outcast?
"What happened to you?" The old man's voice cracked as he spoke, the question tumbling out before he could stop it.
The disciple didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the stall, taking a slow breath, as though the answer was tied to the meat itself.
"It's not about what happened," he said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. "It's about what I've learned. Life doesn't ask us to walk a straight line. Sometimes, we make the most sacred things out of the simplest of lives."
The old man stood frozen for a moment, feeling a rush of emotions. Confusion. Wonder. Disbelief. How had the boy—his disciple—come to this place, to this stall, surrounded by meat? And yet, there was something unmistakable about the way he moved, about the energy he carried. A sense of calm, of purpose, that even the old man could not deny.
The old man swallowed hard, feeling the weight of a thousand unasked questions pressing on him. And in that moment, he realized something. No path, no matter how strange, is truly wrong if it leads to understanding.
"Blessed meat," he whispered, more to himself in disbelief than to the disciple.
The young man nodded. "Yes. I just wanted to get a job and here we are." he said as he patted Furfur
And with that, the old man felt a shift. Something profound. That pup! He took Baro by his hand and went somewhere more private so they could talk properly.
The old man didn't know if he fully understood. But he was sure of one thing. This moment was important, the air around them was thick with possibility. "That wolf pup, what is his name?"
"Oh this little guy? His name is Furfur, he's the best!"
"His presence, it's almost as profound as hers..." Gauss mused.
"Who are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about the goddess, Za, where did you find him?"
"Him? Well I think he was abandoned by his pack or something, he was all alone and in danger so I saved him!" he highfived Furfur and then started stroking his fur.
"That golden light on your hand? did he bless you?"
"Oh you mean this? Baro showed his hand — "Nope, I got it as a reward from the flame lady, it basically makes Furfur feel really calm and peaceful when I pet him."
"The flame lady? Only she could've done such a thing..." A smile appeared on his lips — "So what are you gonna do now?"
"Just doing my job, I plan on advancing to the next level and becoming a Sacred and then Exalted" Baro stretched his neck
"You're living an honest life Baro, why do you try to change it for the worst? You are paid well and I saw you enjoy what you do." Gauss said with a trembling voice
"Well they pay me but that doesn't change how I feel"
"Don't be in such a hurry, why not enjoy it a little longer? As soon as he said that his eyes started glowing, he closed his eyes and relaxed his body.
"I'm just so curious to see what will Sacred people be like, of course I have to go as soon as possible" Baro said excitedly
"I see, I guess it's impossible with you, I was merciful, but she was right. you could never stay as an outcast."
"What are you talking about master?"
"Za asked me to get rid of you." as soon as he confessed, his body was starting to become transparent.
"Get rid of me? What is happening to you?!" he shouted while looking at his pale master
"I don't have her blessing anymore — I don't deserve it — I'm becoming a ghost of the past..." Gauss struggled to speak.
"No! Please! After all this time!"
The ghost mustered all it's strength to say its last words to the disciple "Don't become an exalted...."