Deus's Moulding: An Own Voices Tale of Cultivation and Brainwashing during Renaissance Italy

He was a man of few words, to the point of being rude. He wouldn't hesitate to point out your flaws and he would laugh as you tried to justify them. However, he was also a man of great knowledge. He knew every single plant that lay within the forest and he knew their effects in great detail. As I watched him pass me a bowl of hot soup, I could see his dark eyes looking at me with contempt.

I didn't bring him here to make friends, so I ignored his gaze and ate my soup. It wasn't until I had finished half the bowl when I spoke up, "What is your name?"

He replied instantly with a question of his own, "Are you truly going to help me?"

"I am," I answered without hesitation. "But if you tell me your name, it would be easier for us to communicate."

He laughed and did not reply, instead he continued looking at me with a raised eyebrow. After another long moment of silence I decided to confront him again.

"You know why I am helping you right? You should also know that there are many other things that can be achieved through brainwashing."

He made no attempt to hide his amusement as he replied smugly, "Yeah, some people call it brainwashing while others call it training. I prefer the latter." He then paused and looked at the empty bowl on the table before continuing, "If you're not going to say anything meaningful, then there's no point in my talking either... Are we done here?"

I sighed as I began taking all the utensils on the table into my hands. He had been like this since I found him lying in one of the deeper recesses of the forest. On that day, he seemed like a normal bandit who had lost all will to live after being defeated by my men. However when I approached him, he still managed to grab my knife with both hands and tried to stab me with it despite being badly injured. Thankfully he was too weak to even kill me and when I finally subdued him, his eyes were already devoid of any life in them... or so I thought back then. It turned out that some remnants of will still remained within him and because of this small spark, I decided to save his life... Though my reasons were more selfish than anything else. But more importantly, what exactly did he mean by training? How could someone just train another person's mind like that? It sounded ridiculous but seeing how he had been able to survive up till this point despite being almost dead made me realize that maybe there was something more than meets the eye here... Was it really training though? No matter how much time passes during our conversation, it always ended up ending up in an argument between us two... thus delaying whatever progress we might have had together... but what else could be done? There was no one else who could help me except for him... though perhaps there might have been another option when it came down to it... but this was not something that could be brought up now... not before understanding what kind of man he was first.