His journey to the town was uneventful; the road remained mostly empty. He saw a few people along the way, but none spared him more than a glance.
As he neared the city, the road gradually widened. The morning sun had climbed higher, its soft radiance spilling across the high stone walls surrounding the city.
Soon, a massive gate came into view. Above it hung a grand signboard displaying the name Velmore in bold, majestic letters. As he approached the gate, he saw a crowd of people lined up in front, waiting for their turn to enter the city. Evans slowed down and joined the queue. After a short wait, his turn finally came.
"Entry fee or identification plaque," a guard called out, barely glancing up as he scribbled notes in his ledger.
Startled, Evans quickly rummaged through his bag and pulled out an iron plaque, roughly palm-sized. "Here!" he blurted out.
The guard paused, looking up at the sound of a child's voice.
"Oh… isn't it little Evans? What are you doing out so early, and alone?" he asked, surprised.
"I'm on my way to see the doctor," Evans replied.
"Right… I heard your father got badly hurt during a duel a couple of days ago. It must be because of him."
"Yes," Evans replied, lowering his head.
"Don't worry. John's tough… he'll be back on his feet in no time," the guard said, trying to reassure him. After recording the details, he returned the plaque. "Here — you're clear to enter. And tell your father Uncle Ray is praying for his quick recovery."
"I will, Uncle Ray. Thank you."
With a final nod, Evans stepped through the gate and into the bustling streets of Velmore.
***
Since it was still early, the streets were far from crowded; a few vendors could be seen here and there, rushing to open their shops or arranging their goods in hopes of catching customers soon. But Evans paid them no mind. He had only one goal: the doctor's clinic.
After navigating a few turns, a familiar signboard came into view, displaying the words "Bennett's Healing." Spotting it, Evans quickened his steps and came to a stop in front of the clinic door. After checking his belongings one last time, he knocked on the door.
"Are you in, Mr Bennett?"
No answer.
He knocked again, still nothing.
He tried calling a few more times, but the result remained the same… silence.
Growing impatient, Evans grabbed the handle and pushed, but to no avail; the door was locked. "Where did that old man go after locking the door?" Evans muttered under his breath.
His eyes scanned the area. That's when he spotted a half-open window. A thought struck him, and he dashed toward it. The window sat high in the wall, and his hands could barely reach its frame. He grabbed onto it and tried to pull himself up, but just as he was about to reach the top, his hand slipped, and he fell straight back onto the ground.
"Ouch… my butt..." he groaned, rubbing his lower back with a pained expression.
He glared up at the window, a look of pure resentment on his face… and thought to himself, 'Why am I even doing this…?'
After a moment to recover, he tried again. This time, learning from his previous mistakes, he took a few steps back, sprinted forward and jumped… successfully catching hold of the frame. With a determined grunt, he hauled himself up.
"Good job…" he whispered to himself, proud of his success.
But as he tried to climb through the window, his foot slipped, and he crashed down again… this time right into a trash bin.
Hearing the noise, Mr Bennett rushed out of his lab, gripping a broom. "What the hell was that?" he muttered as he scanned the area.
That's when an anomaly caught his eye.
A young boy… head buried inside a dustbin, legs flailing helplessly in the air… was struggling to escape the metal trap he had thrown himself into.
Mr Bennett marched over, exasperation written all over his face. Without hesitation, he gave the boy a firm swat on his buttocks with the broom.
"Ouch… Mr Bennett, stop… I'm… "
Smack!
Before Evans could finish, another broom strike landed, echoing loudly in the room.
"Mr Bennett, please stop… I'm Evans… not a thief!"
This time, he managed to finish his sentence right before getting smacked again,
Mr Bennett finally paused, squinting at him.
"…Evans? Why the hell are you swimming in my trash bin?"
"So", he said with a smirk, "planning a career in waste management? I heard the dustbin diving business is booming."
Evans pouted, cheeks puffed out. "I was not diving! I just… fell."
"Oh, of course," Mr Bennett nodded as if understanding perfectly. "You accidentally vaulted up a wall and accidentally threw yourself into my trash. Happens all the time."
"That's not..." Evans tried to argue again, but the doctor only chuckled as he set the broom aside and offered a hand.
"Come on, you little troublemaker, before you reek of trash."
He grabbed Evans's leg and pulled him out, bits of garbage still clinging to him. Evans dusted himself off, trying to restore what little dignity he had left.
Mr Bennett watched, amused. "If you wanted to impress me, you could've just knocked louder."
"I did knock… for a whole 15 minutes," Evans grumbled. "And why did you put a trash bin right under the window?"
"Why do you think?" the doctor replied teasingly.
Knowing the answer, Evans just pouted angrily.
The doctor's expression softened a little at Evans's reaction.
"Well then," he said, gently tapping Evans's shoulder, "let's get inside. You didn't come all the way just to redecorate my trash."
Evans nodded silently, remembering the reason for his visit.
"I've some work left in my lab, you can sit here while waiting," the doctor said, pointing towards a small table.
"Thank you." Evans nodded slightly and watched Mr Bennett's retreating back.
Evans let out a long sigh as the lab door closed and moved toward the small table. He was just about to sit when something skittered beneath him.
He shot up with a startled yelp.
"What now?" Bennett's voice called out from inside the lab.
"N-Nothing… I just saw a cockroach…" Evans muttered, rubbing his lower back, sore from the previous beating.
A snort came first — then loud laughter.
"Really? A fearless window-invading trash climber taken down by a cockroach!"
Evans puffed his cheeks in irritation.
"Hmph. Laugh all you want… I'll remember this," he grumbled under his breath.
***
Moments later, the door opened, bringing a faint scent of herbs and medicines to the room, mixed with the lingering smell of garbage he desperately hoped wasn't coming from him.
Bennett stepped out, peeling off his mask with a tired groan. "Ugh… I need better ventilation..." he muttered, waving the mask as it offended him.
Then he straightened up and gave Evans a quick nod. "Alright, let's get down to business."
"How is your father's condition? Any changes?" he asked with a serious tone.
"There aren't any major changes, but breathing has become more relaxed and steadier compared to earlier," Evans replied obediently.
"Hmm… that's good to hear. It seems the medicines are working properly." The doctor said with a thoughtful nod.
'I think it's time to give him that,' the doctor muttered to himself before heading back to the lab.
After a few minutes, he returned with a small pouch in one hand. He grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper from the desk, quickly scribbling something down. Then he handed both the pouch and the note to Evans.
"Give the medicine to your father according to the prescription I've written. He should be awake within two days at most."
Evans held the pouch carefully, relief softening the tension in his shoulders.
"Good. Now that your father is taken care of for the moment, let's get down to the real reason I summoned you to come here." Bennett's tone grew heavier, the earlier humour fading from his face.
Evans swallowed nervously, sensing something serious was coming.
Then it came.
"I want you to become my apprentice…"
"…huh?"