What was Lost

The Inn's And Out's Of Picking A Fight

The street fell deadly silent, all eyes on the sobbing guard on the floor at my feet, who was clutching at the bloody stump where his arm had been, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Maybe, on any other occasion, I would have felt guilty of cutting the man's arm off. Especially giving the fact that I was currently in a time where no medical help could return it to him.

As I said, maybe.

But not this day. Not when he was about to beat up an innocent child with that arm.

The silence of the street, and my internal musings were interrupted by a woman's scream. The sharp, high pitched sound triggered a domino effect, and soon the entire street was filled with noise again. People swearing, people shouting, people whispering, and most of all, people applauding.

I raised my brow at the obvious joy people were having from seeing the man hurt. I had a nagging suspicion that this wasn't the first time that particular guard had hurt someone, and the people were finally getting justice.

The two other guard made no move to attack me, instead opting to send me glares as they picked up their injured colleague, and tentatively his detached limb, and rushed away, disappearing through the crowd. So they could gang up on a little boy, but ran away when faced with someone who could take them, huh? Cowards.

Rafa opened his mouth to say something, but I stopped him with my hand. Bending down to look at the cowering boy, I cursed myself for being so stupid. I shouldn't have let the kid see what I had done. It wasn't a pretty sight, especially for a child.

I reached my arm to touch his shoulder, and let out a sigh of relief when he didn't flinch away.

"Hey," I gently patted his shoulder, "you okay?".

He looked up at me then, confused, and I realised that he hadn't seen what had happened. He had been cowering, eyes closed, so he had missed it.

"The guard?" he questioned wearily, his brown eyes darting side to side, looking for danger.

"He's gone," I reached and helped him stand up fully.

"Really?"

"Yes, really" I replied, smiling, "now get up. I'm going to take you home," I had basically commanded him, but there was no way I was going to let him go on his own when those guards could be anywhere.

He looked at me wearily, when his gaze caught something behind me. Immediately his gaze lightened and he screamed "mama! Papa!" and rushed past me.

I turned in time to see him enveloped in the hold of his parents, who both looked relieved beyond compare. He said something to them, gesturing wildly, and even with my superior senses, I could not hear it , thanks to the noise the crowd was making.

Whatever it was, it caused the two of them to look up at me, with identical expressions of surprise on their faces, and then they began to make their way to me.

"My name is Raman. My son tells me you saved his life. For that I am truly grateful," said the father.

He was a man of average height and build, who appeared to be in his thirties. He was missing a few front teeth, but had kind eyes, and a warm air about him.

I realised with a wince, that what the father had said meant that the kid had seen me de-limb the guard after all.

The mother, who seemed to be a few years younger than the father was small and mousy, and like her husband, lacked a few teeth, was staring at me from her husband's side. After a few seconds of staring, without any warning what so ever, she launched herself at me, crying.