Chapter Five — Reputation
Part Two
Three days later, Zorah received another visitor.
Nobody noticed her arrival.
That was precisely how Ehud preferred it.
From the branch of an old olive tree overlooking the village, the Judge sat completely motionless. Black robes blended unnaturally into the shadows cast beneath the leaves, while the leather mask covering the lower half of her face concealed any hint of expression.
Her cold eyes remained fixed on a small compound in the distance.
"So this is Zorah…"
She was unimpressed.
Fields.
Livestock.
Farmers.
Children running barefoot through dirt roads.
There wasn't a single structure in the village worthy of note, much less anything suggesting that someone capable of killing a Rank One beast lived here.
Ehud removed a folded piece of parchment from her robes.
Male.
Seven years old.
Unawakened.
Name: Samson.
Possible unidentified blessing.
Her eyes returned to the compound.
"This better not be another one of Othniel's hunches."
She disappeared.
A moment later, another shadow shifted several hundred metres closer to Manoah's land.
Samson was easy enough to find.
Ehud had expected something remarkable.
Instead, she found a child struggling to carry a bucket.
His right arm was heavily bandaged and held close against his chest while his left hand gripped the wooden handle.
He took several steps.
Stopped.
Breathed heavily.
Then continued.
Ehud's eyes narrowed.
This is the boy?
There was no aura surrounding him.
No abnormal pressure.
Nothing about his body suggested he had undergone an Awakening.
In fact, if not for the report, she would have dismissed him immediately.
Samson finally reached a wooden trough and poured the water inside.
Half of it missed.
"Ah…"
He stared sadly at the puddle beneath his feet.
From somewhere nearby, Manoah shouted.
"Samson!"
The boy jumped.
"Yes, Dad!"
"What did I tell you about working?"
Samson glanced at the spilled water.
"That I'm not supposed to?"
"And yet?"
"I was helping."
"You're injured."
"But the sheep were thirsty."
There was a brief silence.
"Inside."
Samson sighed.
"Yes, Dad."
Ehud watched the boy walk towards the house.
Nothing.
No strange power.
No evidence that the ridiculous stories spreading across Israel contained even a grain of truth.
She followed him for the remainder of the morning.
Samson ate breakfast.
Samson argued with his mother about whether his arm still hurt.
Samson attempted to sneak outside.
His mother caught him.
Samson waited fifteen minutes.
Then attempted it again.
Ehud's eyebrow twitched.
Outstanding.
The Child of Calamity, if that was truly what he was, appeared to possess a terrifying ability to annoy his parents.
Eventually Lily surrendered and allowed him outside under the condition that he did nothing strenuous.
Samson agreed immediately.
He broke that promise within the hour.
Ehud continued observing.
Still nothing.
The strangest thing about the boy was how utterly ordinary he seemed.
Perhaps even weaker than ordinary at the moment.
His skin was slightly pale. Sweat appeared across his forehead after even minor exertion, and every so often Samson would stop whatever he was doing and close his eyes as if fighting off a wave of dizziness.
Ehud noticed immediately.
He's exhausted.
Not merely tired.
Depleted.
She extended her senses carefully.
Nothing.
There was Faith Essence within the boy, of course. Faith Essence existed within every living creature.
But Samson's reservoir felt strange.
Hollow.
Ehud frowned.
It reminded her of a well that had been drained so violently that even the earth beneath it had dried.
What happened to you?
Samson suddenly looked in her direction.
Ehud vanished into the shadow of the tree.
The boy stared for several seconds.
"Hmm…"
Then shrugged and continued walking.
Ehud reappeared elsewhere.
Her eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
He hadn't seen her.
She was certain of that.
But some instinct within him had noticed something.
Still, instinct did not kill Rank One beasts.
By midday, Ehud had learned very little.
Samson was polite.
Restless.
Terrible at following instructions.
And apparently incapable of walking past someone carrying something heavy without offering to help.
None of this explained the lion.
The village children were far more useful.
They had been following Samson for most of the afternoon.
At first, they kept their distance.
Whispering.
Pointing.
Running whenever Samson looked towards them.
Eventually, one of them gathered enough courage to approach.
He was slightly older than Samson, perhaps nine or ten, with messy brown hair and a wooden practice sword tied around his waist.
Three younger children followed behind him.
"Samson."
Samson looked up from the fence he had been sitting on.
"What?"
The older boy crossed his arms.
"Did you really kill the lion?"
Samson sighed.
It was clearly not the first time someone had asked.
"Yes."
"With one punch?"
"Yes."
The boy narrowed his eyes.
"I don't believe you."
Samson shrugged.
"Okay."
Ehud's eyebrow rose slightly.
The older boy seemed more offended by that than he would have been by an argument.
"What do you mean, okay?"
"You don't have to believe me."
"But everyone says you did it!"
"I did."
"So prove it."
Samson frowned.
"How?"
The boy pointed towards a large stone sitting beside the road.
"Lift that."
Samson looked at the stone.
Then at his injured arm.
"No."
The children behind the older boy whispered amongst themselves.
The boy smirked.
"Because you can't."
Samson shrugged again.
"Probably not right now."
"You're lying about the lion."
"No, I'm not."
"My brother said someone else must have killed it."
"Okay."
The boy's face reddened.
"Stop saying okay!"
Samson blinked.
"Okay."
One of the younger children burst into laughter.
Even Ehud had to suppress the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth.
The older boy stepped closer.
"My brother is going to become an Awakener."
Samson nodded.
"That's good."
"He said an unawakened kid couldn't kill a Rank One beast."
"Maybe he couldn't."
The boy froze.
Samson immediately realised how that sounded.
"I didn't mean—"
"You think you're stronger than my brother?"
"No."
"You just said he couldn't do it!"
"I said maybe."
"So prove it!"
"I don't want to."
"Because you're scared."
Samson looked at him.
For the first time, annoyance appeared across his face.
Ehud leaned forward slightly.
There it is.
The older boy shoved Samson's shoulder.
Samson barely moved.
"Fight me."
"No."
Another shove.
"Fight me!"
Samson's jaw tightened.
His good hand curled into a fist.
Ehud watched carefully.
This was useful.
Strength revealed very little about a person when they were fighting for their life.
Power was far more revealing when someone was angry.
The boy shoved Samson a third time.
Samson took a breath.
Then unclenched his hand.
"My dad says I'm not supposed to use strength just because somebody annoys me."
The older boy scoffed.
"So you are scared."
Samson stared at him.
"Maybe."
Ehud's eyes narrowed.
Samson turned away.
The older boy looked victorious.
Then a scream erupted from nearby.
"MOVE!"
Everyone turned.
A young bull had broken free from one of the neighbouring enclosures.
The animal charged down the dirt path, dragging a length of snapped rope behind it.
People scattered.
The younger children immediately ran.
The older boy did not.
He stood frozen.
His wooden sword fell from his hand.
The bull thundered towards him.
"Move!" Samson shouted.
Nothing.
The boy simply stared.
Samson's eyes widened.
His body moved before his mind could catch up.
He reached inward instinctively.
Towards the familiar reservoir inside himself.
Nothing answered.
Samson's face changed.
Come on…
He searched desperately for the warmth that normally waited within him.
There was almost nothing there.
Ever since the lion, something inside him had felt empty.
Worse than empty.
Every prayer seemed to pour Faith Essence into a hole that refused to fill.
Still, Samson opened his mouth.
"Spe—"
He stopped.
No.
He could feel it.
Whatever tiny amount had finally returned would disappear immediately.
And even then, it might not be enough.
The bull was almost upon them.
Samson ran.
Not with supernatural speed.
Not with golden light.
Just with the legs of a seven-year-old boy.
Ehud's eyes widened slightly.
She could intervene.
The thought entered her mind immediately.
Then Samson reached the older child.
He threw himself into him.
Both boys crashed against the ground.
The bull thundered past.
Its shoulder clipped Samson as it went.
His body spun violently across the dirt.
"Samson!"
The other children screamed.
Ehud's hand had already moved towards the dagger beneath her robes.
She stopped herself.
Several villagers rushed forward and surrounded the bull before it could turn around.
Others ran towards the boys.
The older child slowly sat up.
He was unharmed.
Samson was not.
He lay several feet away, clutching his injured arm.
Blood had begun seeping through the linen again.
The wounds had reopened.
The boy Samson had saved stared at him.
"You…"
Samson grimaced.
"That hurt."
"You saved me."
Samson looked at him.
"You weren't moving."
The older boy's face reddened.
"But I was…"
He remembered their argument.
"I was being horrible to you."
Samson seemed confused.
"So?"
The boy stared.
"So why did you help me?"
Samson frowned as though the question itself made no sense.
"Because you would've gotten hurt."
From the shadows, Ehud watched silently.
Something shifted in her expression.
The boy who might one day bring about the annihilation of Israel was lying in the dirt because he had thrown himself in front of danger for someone who had insulted him moments earlier.
And he didn't appear to understand why that was unusual.
Ehud leaned back against the tree.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The remainder of the day proved uneventful.
Manoah was furious.
Lily was even worse.
Samson spent most of the evening being lectured while his wounds were cleaned and rebound.
Ehud remained close enough to hear portions of it.
"You were told to rest!"
"He would've gotten hurt!"
"And now you're hurt!"
"But I'm already hurt."
"That is not helping your argument."
"Oh."
Ehud closed her eyes.
For the first time since arriving in Zorah, something resembling amusement appeared behind her mask.
Night eventually fell.
One by one, the lamps throughout the village disappeared.
Ehud remained.
She had seen enough.
The boy had shown no supernatural ability.
No Awakening.
No unusual combat prowess.
The incident with the bull had proved that much.
Whatever had happened in the forest, Samson could not reproduce it now.
Perhaps the report had been exaggerated.
Perhaps another person really had killed the lion.
Or perhaps the boy possessed some blessing that had temporarily disappeared.
Either way, Othniel would want her observations.
Ehud stepped backwards.
The darkness around her began to gather.
Then the door to Manoah's home opened.
Ehud stopped.
Samson quietly slipped outside.
He looked left.
Then right.
Satisfied that nobody had seen him, the boy walked towards the orchard.
Ehud's shadow followed.
Samson stopped beneath an old apple tree.
The moonlight filtered through its branches.
He sat down.
Then crossed his legs.
Ehud watched from a distance.
Samson closed his eyes.
"Father…"
Ehud became still.
"I know Mum said I should sleep."
A short silence.
"But I wanted to talk first."
Ehud's brows furrowed.
Samson clasped his hands together.
"Thank You for today."
He paused.
"And thank You for not letting Micah get hurt."
So that was the other boy's name.
Samson lowered his head.
"And… I'm sorry about the lion."
Ehud's eyes sharpened.
"I think I asked for too much."
The boy sounded genuinely ashamed.
"You already gave me Strength, and then I asked again."
His fingers tightened.
"And then when I had nothing left…"
Samson hesitated.
"I asked for More."
Ehud did not move.
"I know I was greedy."
The Judge's expression slowly changed.
"But I was scared."
Samson's voice became quieter.
"I didn't want it to hurt Mum."
A pause.
"Or Dad."
Another.
"Or the animals."
He looked down towards his bandaged arm.
"And You still helped me."
The night remained silent.
"So… thank You."
Ehud stared at him.
There was no performance here.
The boy believed every word.
Samson continued praying.
He thanked the Lord for his food.
For his parents.
For the rain that had fallen earlier that week.
He even asked for Micah not to get in trouble for arguing with him.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
Ehud gradually relaxed.
Whatever Othniel suspected, she had seen enough for one night.
She stepped backwards.
Then Samson suddenly opened his eyes.
Ehud stopped.
The boy looked down at his hands.
Something had changed.
He could feel it.
For days, whenever Samson had reached inward, there had been nothing.
His Faith Essence had not merely emptied after the battle.
It had fallen beneath emptiness.
Every prayer since then had replenished something, but none of it had been available to him.
It was as though he had borrowed strength that had never belonged to him—
and Heaven had demanded the debt be repaid first.
Tonight, for the first time, there was something left over.
Barely anything.
But it was there.
Samson's face brightened.
"Oh!"
Ehud's eyes narrowed.
The boy hurriedly began unwrapping the linen around his arm.
The wounds beneath were still ugly.
Deep claw marks crossed his flesh, partly stitched and surrounded by bruising.
Samson stared at them.
He swallowed.
Then held his good hand over the wounds.
"Heal."
Ehud froze.
A faint golden light appeared.
Her eyes widened.
It wasn't an aura.
It wasn't an Awakening.
Samson had performed no hand signs.
No circulation pattern.
No technique formation.
He had simply spoken.
And Faith Essence moved.
The golden light wrapped around his wounded arm.
Samson winced.
Slowly, torn flesh began drawing together.
The smallest wounds disappeared.
The deeper cuts tightened.
Damaged tissue repaired itself before Ehud's eyes.
Then the light flickered.
Samson frowned.
"Come on…"
It weakened further.
"No, no, no—"
The glow vanished.
Samson stared at his arm.
The wounds remained.
They were considerably better than before, but nowhere near healed.
He poked one.
"Ow."
Ehud almost laughed.
Samson sighed dramatically.
"That's all I had?"
He fell backwards against the grass.
For several moments, the child simply stared at the stars.
Then smiled.
"At least it's working again."
Ehud did not hear the rest.
Her attention remained fixed upon his arm.
She had spent decades studying combat.
She had witnessed blessings.
Awakenings.
Divine techniques.
Curses.
Miracles performed by men whose names were written throughout Israel's history.
This was different.
The boy had not shaped Faith Essence into a technique.
He had not commanded his own body to heal.
He had asked.
One word.
One request.
And something beyond him had responded.
Ehud remembered the report.
The boy's own testimony.
I asked for strength.
She remembered the lion's shattered skull.
Her gaze slowly moved from Samson's wounded arm to his small hands.
Suddenly, the ridiculous story did not seem ridiculous at all.
Samson yawned.
He stood and carefully wrapped his arm again.
"Goodnight, Father."
Then he wandered back towards the house.
Ehud remained beneath the trees long after he had disappeared.
For seven years, the Judges had searched for a calamity.
She had expected someone frightening.
A monster wearing the skin of a child.
A weapon waiting to mature.
Instead, she had found a boy who refused to strike another child when angered.
A boy who threw himself in front of danger without access to the very power everyone feared him for.
A boy who thanked God for dinner and apologised for asking for enough strength to save his family.
Ehud's eyes softened.
Only slightly.
"So you're Samson…"
The shadows gathered around her.
This time, when she disappeared from Zorah, there was the faintest smile hidden beneath her mask.
Othniel was still awake when Ehud returned.
He sat within the Judges' hall alone, several scrolls spread across the circular table.
A shadow stretched unnaturally across the floor.
Ehud stepped from it.
Othniel looked up.
"You took your time."
Ehud ignored the comment.
"Seven years old."
Othniel leaned back.
"Unawakened?"
"Completely."
"And the lion?"
Ehud remained silent for a moment.
"I believe him."
Othniel's expression changed.
"You're certain?"
"I didn't witness the battle."
"Then why?"
Ehud walked towards the table.
"Because I witnessed something else."
Othniel waited.
"The rumours are wrong."
A voice suddenly came from the doorway.
"I knew it."
Jair entered the hall carrying a piece of fruit.
"That entire village nearly lost its mind over a child's imagination."
Ehud looked towards him.
"That isn't what I meant."
Jair stopped chewing.
Ehud turned back towards Othniel.
"The boy has not awakened."
"We established that already," Jair said.
Ehud ignored him.
"He cannot properly manipulate Faith Essence."
Othniel's brow furrowed.
"He cannot form techniques."
She paused.
"He doesn't appear to know what he's doing at all."
Jair laughed.
"Then how exactly is that helping his case?"
Ehud looked at him.
"He spoke."
Jair stopped.
Othniel became completely still.
"One word," Ehud continued. "Heal."
Silence filled the chamber.
"And?"
Ehud remembered the golden light.
"The heavens answered."
For the first time that night, Othniel's relaxed expression vanished entirely.
Jair slowly placed the fruit onto the table.
Ehud looked between them.
"I think you found your Child of Calamity."