Tarkan could be seen walking, lost in thought, his expression slightly twisted in frustration. To be completely honest, he was a little pissed. What was the point of being a Drazmir? Aries had kept yapping about the honor of it for the last sixteen years of his life. Something about greatness, legacy, bloodlines, and the usual crap about proving oneself. But for what?
The Drazmir name meant nothing when it didn't give him anything. That was the part that baffled him the most. They only claimed you after you had achieved something. After you'd gone through the mud, the storms, the battles and only then would they say, "Yes, he is one of ours." But what good is that?
In his mind, it would've made much more sense for a family, especially a prestigious one to invest in their own. Train them, support them, shape them into something great, then send them out to prove their worth. But no. Aries never even trained him in person. It was always through a clone. That man never even bothered to show him his real self. Not even a glimpse. Everything Tarkan knew from how to fight, how to strategize, he'd learned from a damn clone.
He believed, that he could've learned it all himself. Others might call it ego, or arrogance, but he knew it was just self-confidence. He knew what he was capable of. Still, even after all that, the man had the gall to look at him and say, "Prove yourself worthy."
Tch.
"Tarkan!"
He blinked.
Someone was shaking his shoulder. Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked over and saw Ricky, panting slightly, his forehead dropping with sweat. Ricky held out what looked like a white cloth.
"Take this. Use it on your face."
Tarkan stared at him with an expression that clearly said, What the hell is wrong with this guy?
He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't even realized how far they'd walked, or how much attention he was drawing.
Looking around, he finally noticed.
The city was bustling, stalls lined the streets, shops opened left and right. One table sold shiny orbs, another displayed strange papers labeled Talismans in big red letters. Further ahead, signs hung above stores advertising Potions, Weapons, and Clothes. There were people everywhere, moving, chatting, trading.
But... there was something wrong.
Everyone within eyesight, everyone was staring at him. And not just casually. They were full-on gawking, with wide eyes, slack jaws, and a dreamy glint, like they'd seen a celestial being descend into the marketplace.
Some of them had literal stars in their eyes.
And it wasn't just the women. That was the weirdest part. Even some of the men were looking at him like they were enchanted.
Oh no.. not again...
It brought back a memory one he tried hard to forget, of a creepy old man who had spoken to him in a whisper so soft and oddly sensual that Tarkan still felt a chill when he recalled it.
Shuddering, he snatched the cloth from Ricky and quickly tied it around his face like a makeshift nose mask.
"How can someone be so... so beautiful?" a man standing at a fruit stall murmured, his tone filled with both awe and jealousy.
Another whispered, "That skin, that jawline his eyes… are those eyelashes even real?!"
"Look at the way he walks. I bet even his footsteps smell like jasmine."
"He's not walking. He's gliding."
Someone near a talisman shop clasped her hands together, sighing. "If perfection was a person.."
Even the married ones weren't spared. Several women gave Tarkan blatant flirtatious stares, right in front of their husbands. A few tugged their children's hands tighter, shielding them, as if his beauty was dangerous. One woman whispered to her friend, "If I weren't married.."
"Who cares if you're married?" her friend replied.
Tarkan wanted to explore the city a bit to learn more about this world before heading to the Awakening venue, but this was becoming unbearable. Even after covering half his face, the attention didn't stop.
If anything, it intensified.
Now he was a mysterious beauty. One man shouted, "He's like a forbidden painting come to life!"
Another whispered, "Is he an elf? No, no... a demigod, maybe?"
Ricky noticed Tarkan's growing discomfort. His mood, which was already sour from the get go, was starting to go downhill fast.
"I know the way to the Awakening venue," Ricky said quickly, stepping ahead.
Tarkan didn't reply. He was super, duper annoyed. At this point, he wanted to grab a cigar, light it up, and puff the frustration away. damn if that didn't sound good right now.
He gritted his teeth and reminded himself of an old saying from Earth: When in Rome, act like the Romans. Or was it do as the Romans do? Whatever. Close enough.
He breathed in, exhaled slowly, and calmed himself down.
Seeing Ricky take the lead, he quietly followed him. As they walked through the city, Tarkan noticed people turning to stare at his back. Some even sighed as he passed.
"Why is he leaving? That back… it tells a story."
"I wasn't ready to say goodbye.."
A few people even trailed behind them briefly, reluctant to let the vision of beauty disappear from their view. It was only after they turned a corner that the small crowd lost sight of him and reluctantly returned to their business.
Thankfully, no one else tried to approach him. With his face mostly hidden and his pace quickened, they passed several stalls without further interruption.
Finally, after a few more minutes of walking, Tarkan stopped suddenly.
"Do you really know where the venue is?" he asked suspiciously.
Ricky turned to him, grinning goofily. "Of course! It's right there!"
Tarkan followed Ricky's pointing finger, eyes narrowing.
And what he saw left him.. completely surprised.
He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't this.