Chapter 2: Survivor's solitude
It was an underground place, that's for sure, as there were no windows anywhere and, assuming he was still in Sachs, the temperature wasn't the usual. Looking around a little more, Onix found that he was in a room which seemed to be the tenant's, with exquisite decoration, all kind of hunting trophies all over the walls (mostly, extreme climate beasts) and something that took his attention: a great and majestic silvery bow hanging in a wall. Onix, feeling quite relaxed already, thought that some eccentric and lonely hunter stablished his dwelling in the desert, and he spended his free time taking dying travelers to acompany him. "Well, yet another lucky extension of my life", thought Onix not caring too much about the fact that he was still in the alive world. He stood up, refreshed from the bed in which he was resting, being then conscious of the logical fact that he wasn't carrying any of his weapons. He approached the bow he previously observed, to contemplate out of curiosity the reliefs and inscriptions engraving on the silver.
-Don't touch that.-Onix heard a voice from behind-.
It was an excepcionally tall man, with wide shoulders and fifty years old aproximately. A three days white beard covered his face, in contrast with his strong red hair, tied back in a little ponytail and partially hidden by a cowboy hat. But without a doubt, what Onix noticed most was the great shotgun with which he was armed.
-You haven't saved my life just to kill me now, right?
-That depends, boy.-The man put down his shotgun, giving a hint of a smile- I see, by your expression, that you don't really like firearms. Haha, i'm on your side. This thing -pointing at his powerful shotgun- i have it only to protect myself in case of emergency.
-Old school hunter?
-That's right, boy. I'm Rezler, and i live here since i started to feel sick of the trash that my city was becoming.
Nowadays, people like me would be considered less than a dinosaur, hahaha. And you, who the hell are you and what do you do for a living?
-My name's Onix. You could consider i'm trained in thief and ninja arts...
-Ajá, a vulgar assassin petty thief, just as i thought! And you are even careless about saying it, i can't believe it boy, i don't know wether i would think that you are stupid or brave!
-Would you please return my weapons and let me go?
-Ha! Not even a word of gratitude ... i suppose this will be the last time i save from death a scaled monster like you, friend, i believe even a stone would be more grateful.
-What did you say? You have taken a warlock before?
-Of course i did! - said Rezler, kind of enthusiastic and slightly trying to pretend- I found that poor devil long ago, at least twenty years. He was lying on the floor around this area, near the big corpse of a death scorpion of Sachs. It seems the battle was tough, and even if the warlock won, his victim left him a present: It's sting stuck in his stomach. I took him home and, after using all my knowledge to staunch the poison, i managed to change his destiny from death to indefinite comma. Of course, that was a hell of a cruel bastard, as one day he just woke up from his comma and escaped, not only taking all his weapons but also stealing one of my beloved raplos.
-Raplos?
-Don't you know what they are? Oh god, they could very well pertain to your family, hahaha!. Raplos are a kind of domestic reptile common in high temperature climates, really fast, when they stand up they are more than a metre and half tall, and similar to humans in width. Actually one of my little raplos found you lying on the floor unconscious while hunting his daily portion of insects, and quickly came to let me know. They have great intellectual habillities to...
-There's no need to tell me all those stories -interrupted Onix- Could you tell me more about that warlock you found?
-Look, boy, i can't tell you anything because all i told you is everything that i can tell you about that rogue. Why do you care that much? Was it your daddy?
-Save your stupid chatter and give me my weapons, then.
-I have nothing against warlocks, and i don't think there is a reason to treat them like that...but i'm starting to understand everyone who would like to see your ass burning!
Onix knew that someone like Rezler could never understand why he was interested in that injured warlock's story from twenty years ago. He could never understand how does it feel that, just because he was born different, he had his death written on his forehead... Onix felt a survivor's solitude.
