The Fellowship of Tears

The New Village Chief

Seeing no choice for him but to go, Jogr proceeded to the village center together with Blink after breakfast. He wanted to go straight after eating his fill, but his wife insisted that he should take a bath first and change into something more presentable. When he came out of the master’s bedroom, he was wearing a fine purple dress that radiated nobility. He looked rather aristocratic for a change.

As for Blink, he was already waiting by the door garbed in a white robe that Magra had painstakingly sewn. He looked every bit like a scholarly warrior.

At the meeting, Jogr introduced Blink to the other heads of families. Many were happy to finally meet the number one disciple of the Ragha Martial Arts Academy. There were some, however, who could not hide their displeasure.

When the old village chief called the meeting into order and explained the purpose for the meeting, a middle-aged man immediately raised his voice to oppose Blink’s presence in the gathering.

“We all know that this meeting is only supposedly for heads of families,” he started. “While we all respect his accomplishments in martial arts and feel grateful towards him for bringing a great change into our village, we must remember that his status and his very young age does not qualify him to be village chief yet.”

“That’s right, Village Chief,” another middle-aged man said. “But if he were to marry my daughter and have children with her, I wouldn’t really mind him as our village chief when he turns thirty.”

Everybody had a good laugh at that, including Blink.

“So, if it’s all right with Master Kraszad, would you mind stepping out of the village center until we conduct our business here?” a man in his late thirties spoke in a gentle voice.

Blink cleared his throat. “You mistake my intentions, my good sirs,” he said. “I am not after the position of village chief, nor do I intend to participate in this election.

“However I did come to recommend somebody who is very much qualified and more than competent to be your next village chief.”

“Who do you have in mind, Master Kraszad?” the village chief asked.

Blink smiled towards the old village chief.

“I am just a disciple, so it’s very inappropriate to call me Master Kraszad, Village Chief. Master Tszarek is the only master in our academy. As to who I’m recommending, I’m recommending to you my brother-in-law, Jogr!”

Blink’s pronouncement started a loud hubbub inside the center. A few men wanted to voice out their opposition but their voices were drowned out by those who found merit in Blink’s recommendation.

All this while, Jogr was looking at Blink, seeming to only then begin to understand the subtle hints he had been dropping since they were at the farm earlier.

Blink raised both arms to signify to the crowd that he was about to say something. The noise lowered enough for Blink to say his piece.

“My namgun may be young. But you all know the adversities he was able to overcome in his life as an orphan at the age of six. You all know the goodness in his heart and how he is always ready to lend a helping hand regardless of who you are without asking for anything in return. Lastly, this village center and the stone-paved roads you’re walking on would not have been possible without his painstaking efforts. So, I shall consider it a big favor if one of you were to nominate him and I earnestly hope you elect him as our village chief. Thank you. I shall now take my leave and let you conduct your business.”

As soon as Blink stepped out, one of the younger fathers nominated Jogr. The nomination was warmly received among those in their twenties and thirties and even from some of those in their forties.

The elderly man who first opposed Blink’s presence was also nominated. Another man in his late fifties nominated himself—he had been doing so for the past twenty years.

In the end, Jogr dominated the election. He received all the votes from the younger generation and even took away some votes from the older generation.

The middle-aged man who opposed Blink’s presence could not even muster a fourth of Jogr’s vote.

As for the man who nominated himself. He got only one vote. His vote.

Everybody congratulated Jogr. Everybody except the middle-aged man and his cohorts.

The old chief and Jogr talked for a while. Then, Blink was called back into the center by both the old and new village chiefs. They told him about a certain troublemaker and asked him to deal with the ruffian.

Blink immediately set out and, in less than thirty minutes, the troublemaker is presented before the gathering, already hogtied and beaten up.

As Jogr could not simply leave, Blink asked permission to head towards the martial arts training center.

At the training center, Blink saw the chaotic situation that the trainees were in. There were over two hundred trainees practicing in a space that could only accommodate about forty kids at once.

He saw Hubr in sparring. The boy took a few hits, but defended against a taller and bigger opponent quite admirably. He even managed to land a few blows.

After his sparring bout, the instructor called Hubr over to his side and asked the kid a few questions. Hubr looked around until his gaze fell on Blink. Then, he looked at his instructor and pointed towards his nangku.

The black-robed disciple nodded towards Blink and signified for the latter to approach. He had a heavy cast on his legs. He explained later on that he chased after a group of bandits and walked into a trap and fractured the leg. The bandits were all captured, but the instructor could only sit helplessly as he barked instructions to the trainees that mostly fell on deaf ears.

“I never thought I’d see you here,” he greeted Blink.

“I’m being allowed a furlough, Senior. I’ll be hitting the road soon enough.”

The instructor had a helpless look in his eyes as he gazed at Blink. He wanted to tell his junior something but found it rather awkward.

“As you can see, I have a broken foot and couldn’t teach as effectively as I would have wanted to,” he began. “I was wondering if you could fill in for me for a few days starting tomorrow.”

Before Blink could even respond, the instructor was already apologizing.

“I know that you’re supposed to be enjoying your time with your family whom you had not seen for a long time, and I really hate to impose on you, so it’s okay if you say no but I’d really, really appreciate it if you agree.”

“Senior, no problem,” Blink simply replied.

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” Blink assured him.

The instructor could finally relax into a smile.

“Tomorrow then,” he said. “And wear your disciple’s robe.”

In the afternoon Blink doubled up on his training. He missed his morning run and didn’t train the whole morning, so he had to make up for it.

After an exhausting training that included his palm techniques, Blink walked towards home. He was anticipating a sumptuous dinner and a long blissful sleep after that.

Unfortunately, many of the young fathers came home with his brother-in-law to celebrate. They all gathered around Blink wanting to know more about the disciple who routed bandits and earned himself a funny nickname.

In the end, Blink was only able to sleep at past midnight.