As we continued to advance further, on either end of the road before us planted were huts and homes, where screams and shouts echoed and ricocheted, disrupting the ever-vigilant silence. Ignoring those screams and shouts, and the vicious cats and mutts that sprinted on either side of the road, as we marched forward, more and more damage became visible on the path before us. Where potholes and torn patches of tar and cement were stripped and joined together. Where speed bumps were cracked and broken. Where the road itself were being filled with dust and sand.
But before that could be addressed with either of these two men, all three of us stopped in our march seeing one of the wheels of the carriage struck in the pothole. And our pace only increased when these five men that desperately tried to lift the carriage failed in to do so, and it would have continued to fail if my satchel did not lower itself on the ground, and with the assistance of two of my companions began to lift the entire carriage from the pothole.
Our struggle was quick and intense because of more volume and more strength, resulting in the wheel to quickly lift itself and touched the ground. Proceeding which, after my fingers plucked the satchel from the ground, and five of these men nodding once to us, passing us, and easing themselves in their carriage, drove above the street leaving behind the trail of dust in their wake, my voice disturbed the thoughts of my companions.
"I see the mayor is plundering the funds again?"
Instead of immediately responding both men on either side of me turned left and strolled forward.
"Well?"
After hearing that, the old man on my right whose blood may not run though my veins, and was the embodiment of fatherhood to me, slumped his shoulders, readjusting, and, shifting his belt properly once again, as he continued to walk, patiently waited. And even after a breath, seeing as the young man with the dark circles around his eyes on my left did not respond, but choose to gaze at the space before him. Inhaling a fresh breath, the man on my right, responded.
"I have been a senior assistant for a better part of three and a half decades in this town. And I have seen my share of mayors, and you know what each of them has in common-greed. All of them are selfish pricks whose only purpose is to fill their coffers by fueling their desires"
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In this man's tone, there was a mixture of true resentment and pain, and his own helplessness at the situation. But still there are time and place for such things, and it certainly is not here and now, but before I could chide him on the same the man on my left intervened.
"You are blaspheming, Galivar."
Hearing his subordinate talk back to him, the man's lips twisted at the corners. And before this issue could escalate and an argument stemmed between them, my voice intervened.
"We both know-Galivar, that is not the entire truth. The Empire is neither the true force of justice, nor will it ever be the representation of vile and twisted. The purpose of Imperial authority is to provide balance and stability, and both of those are necessary, because just as there are vile, twisted, and corrupt mayors in every city, there will always be ten or even a hundred Honorable men like you, whose sole purpose in life is to serve, and to be of service. Even and especially, at the cost of their loved ones."
And hearing those words both men on either side of me widened their eyes, but before they could respond all three of us once again turned left and strode forward. And as we advanced further on the street, and both of these men continued to digest my earlier statement, out of the two, the one on the left was the first to quickly respond, by asking the question that he desperately needed to ask.
"I thought you hated the Imperial authority with every fiber of your being? I thought you resented them for ever existing upon this earth? I thought you too were just like most men and women that exist upon this earth, who blame everything that goes wrong in their life on the lords and the ladies, and the gods and the devils. And like most of them, I though you blame the Empire for its lack of compassion, is that not why you do what you do?"
Instead of responding my body exited the end of the street, turned right and advanced, closely followed by two men on either side of me. And as all our pace matched once again, my gaze fully focused on the rooftops of the houses above me, where a flock of eagles and crows had made their homes on the grills. Seeing their gaze bore itself upon me, my mind digested his response, because those question did not surprise me, sooner or later most of the villagers in this town, eventually ask me the same question. And my answer to each of them will always remain the same. Even here and now, that answer remains unchanged.
"Hate is a true weakness of an emotion for what I feel, my resentment against the upper echolean of the Imperial authority, and its accursed Emperor is deeper and darker. There are no epithets that are ever present to my emotion against that man and his kingdom of blood. But that is only part of my emotion; there is another emotion that is countering that emotion as well. And this one, too, has a name-gratitude."
