Tales of Erelith: The Exile (Chapter 3, Part 1)

Even with as much distance from the camp as he had and fresh air flowing through his lungs, Holden could still catch the faintest hint of burning flesh. It made him want to vomit even more, though all he could manage was a series of violent dry heaves. His heart was pounding furiously, looking for an escape from his chest, and his mind failed to wrap around what he witnessed.

“Holden?”

Whirling around, Holden notched an arrow and drew back his bow, but stopped when he recognized Tamef. He said nothing, and slowly eased the tension on his bowstring.

“Well,” Tamef started, clearing his throat, “I guess you--” The fist landing a heavy blow on his face ended him abruptly, and sent him to the ground in a daze. Holden moved overtop of him, and readied another swing before Tamef raised his hands. “Easy lad, easy! What in Byzix’s name has gotten into you?”

“People!” Holden blurted out, his tone both panicked and angry, “They were burning people!”

“Who was?” Tamef asked. When he saw Holden struggling to answer, he sighed, and shook his head. Pushing Holden off, he got up and massaged his jaw. “You’re a heavy hitter, I hope you know. Haven’t felt something like this since my found me in bed with a dozen pretty lasses!” Tamef clasped Holden’s shoulder. “We’ll head to camp, give you some time before you can explain what you saw out here.”

With a slight nod, Holden got up and tried calming his nerves as he followed Tamef. The darkness of night settled within the forest once more, though it seemed far more menacing than it was the evening prior. Perhaps it was the idea of those men in the valley watching them, waiting for the moment to strike. Holden glanced over at Tamef, and felt even less secure. The uncertainty in Tamef’s eyes gave away not only awareness of how the grim the matter was, but of Tamef’s fear.

“I’m sorry that you got roped up into this, Holden,” Tamef said.

“Roped up in what?”

Tamef sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “Have you ever taken a life? Not of just some rabbit, but of another being.”

“Well, no.”

“Then this is going to be a long night for you. Just remember; kill in the name of survival. That makes you lose the least sleep at night.” Tamef continued down a path which showed signs of rare usage, with nature working steadily to reclaim it. “I heard talk of some small vessels slipping past On’hinian naval patrols. Some speculated that they were of Aradian make, and with business returning to usual in Lerem, it surprises me little that they visit violence upon us.”

Before Holden could ask any of the questions that formed in his mind, he found himself following Tamef into a clearing. Moonlight illuminated the dozens of people moving about a camp in the clearing. Some sat around a campfire, kept dim to leave their location undisclosed to uninvited guests. A few rested in tents scattered about, while others stood as sentries for their comrades. This was Tamef’s camp.

“Everyone, up!” Tamef ordered, stirring the sleeping ranks and the rest to life. As they gathered around Tamef, he cleared his throat. “A day which many have feared, but all have accepted as inevitable has come. While you may ask how it concerns us, remember for whom we oppose the poison seeping into this nation’s order. If you will not come with me to deal with this threat to our friends and loved ones, then you’d be better clear off from this site, else you become a prime target when the rest of us return.” There was a brief silence as the others weighed their options. Those who readied themselves for combat were spared the scorching gaze of Tamef. “Hino will thank us for our bravery,” he said, before motioning for the volunteers to follow him, and Holden followed suit.

“Business in Lerem?” Holden asked, picking up his pace to talk to Tamef. “What did you mean by that?”

“Some day soon, you’ll understand what a man will do for the gain of power.” Tamef stopped and knelt down, feeling over a boot print. “This is your trail, Holden.” He motioned for everyone to stop the unneeded chatter. “Lead us there, and stay ready for anything. I wouldn’t past the elves to have several tricks up their sleeves, and several traps lying in wait.”

“Are you sure we should take on the Aradians?” one of the volunteers asked.

“Would you rather watch them destroy innocent lives before the soldiers finally step in? Or drive these knife-eared scum into the ground?” Tamef gestured for Holden to go on, as each of the rebels found themselves off to fight for their cause, whispering their final prayers before going off into the night.

***

The passage through the broken rock was akin to the maw of a dragon in the dead of night. Though the stench from before had long since passed, it was all that lingered in Holden’s mind. It made him nauseous, just to think of the burning corpses. However, his anxiety overwhelmed that. He was merely a farmer’s boy with some archery training, and now he was expected to kill. A firm hand on his shoulder pulls him back into reality.

“You want someone else to lead?” Tamef asked, keeping his voice low. “You’re making the others nervous.”

“I’m fine,” replied Holden, shaking Tamef’s hand off. Steeling himself for what was to come, he pushed the thought of joining the burning corpses to the back of his mind. As the canyon opened, the rebels spread into the open expanse, finding cover and waiting for the battle to begin. Quiet as a mouse, Holden began to carefully sneak forward. No sooner had he seen the glow of firelight when he was pulled back by Tamef, as something whistled past his ear. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation, but Tamef only had to point to the arrow that struck the ground, where Holden was standing.

The elves were ready.

Tales of Erelith: The Exile (Chapter 2, Part 2)

The snap and crackle of Holden’s campfire broke the eerie silence in the woods. It was as if even the nocturnal creatures were watching him, waiting for him to make a move with baited breath. Next to the fire was the remains of a rabbit. Unfortunately for it, it was the only animal Holden had spotted. Even less in the creature’s favor was that Holden’s accuracy was quite decent. His father had taught him how to gut animals should the need arise, be it that the farm would not be capable of feeding his family, or that there was no other way to satiate his hunger.

The fire illuminated Holden’s surroundings, repelling the darkness that he would have drowned in otherwise. Never before had he felt so utterly alone. Yet, he did not panic. Though his vulnerability and the certainty that he was on his own should have been a prime source of anxiety, he felt little more than isolated. It was partially due to his inflated pride, swollen so by how well he was managing on his own. When the sun rose, he would just navigate through the woods and find Tamef’s camp.

Holden’s train of thought was broken by a rustling in the nearby brush. Quick to react, Holden drew Tamef’s bow, readying an arrow. Placing the fire between what lurks in the woods and himself, he felt the false security he had slip away. He was still in the forest, which made him the woodland creature and a great number of beasts the hunter. Suddenly, the brush gave way to a speeding bulk of fur, the firelight shining off of a pair of black, beady eyes  that stayed close to the ground. Holden let an arrow free, but its stopping power did not even hinder the beast’s rush. He felt his legs take the impact of the charge, sending him to the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs. Scrambling to get up, Holden felt a pain shoot through his leg. Liquid heat soaked the area of impact, and the agony made it near impossible to stand up. He glanced over to what had rammed him; a boar, and no small one either. Protruding from its back was the wooden shaft of his arrow. At least he returned the blow. The boar retreated back into the wilderness, leaving Holden on the ground.

Groaning out loud, he tried moving his leg. Fortunately, it did not appear to be broken, spare the skin. Holden crawled towards the pack Tamef left for him, and rummaged through the supplies. Finding a roll of cloth, he bandaged his leg up, and watched as the cloth turned crimson. He tried to get up and pursue the boar, but the pain ensured that he would remain subdued. Crawling over to a nearby tree -- to have his back protected by the trunk -- Holden kept the bow and a few arrows right beside himself. He wanted to be ready in case the boar -- or something worse -- came into his camp.

To take his mind off of the pain, Holden reflected over all that happened as of recent. Only a few months ago, he was a farmer’s boy, and now here he was. He could have been an archer, could have gone into the service and done his part from behind the battling forces. But, he wanted glory, honor, and all the other idealistic things that drive a man. He remembered the stories his father would tell, of glorious battles and highly honored people he met in his service, like the Three Generals, and Saul. Those stories were the reasons that pushed him into this life, in pursuit of his own stories. Holden could not help but grin. His father wanted him to take up archery for survival, and here he was, using it to train for the worst possible occupation in terms of survival.

Then, there was Saul. Holden watched the flames flicker, and folded his arms over his chest. Saul was not only a comrade of his father, but a dear friend as well. Saul was a dedicated veteran, but the only thing that could defeat him was his love for gambling. That took away every scrap his distinguished service had earned him, including his home in Okeluiso. But, what business was he involved in that would have him work with people like Tamef?

Holden’s brow furrowed. People like Tamef. Those who live out in the woods, out of view. Those who sought Saul’s teachings as a scout, but intend to use it for other reasons than to serve the nation. Then, Saul’s words resurfaced in his mind.

People who believe our homeland is not as it should be.

***

The grey glow of early dawn settled into the forest, accompanied by a profound chill in the air and a light fog. The blackened remains of the campfire were still smoking when Holden awoke. His body shivered involuntarily from the brisk temperature, and he was also welcomed with the pain in his leg. It was no longer crippling, but rather annoying. Slinging the bow over his chest, Holden pulled himself back onto his feet with only a little difficulty, and started to gather his belongings. It was then that he noticed a trail of blood leading off into the wilderness; the boar. Following the trail, it led Holden quite a ways from the camp. Then, as he pulled open a bush, Holden grimaced and turned away. He had almost forgotten that he was not the only dangerous predator lurking in the forest, like whatever had torn the boar apart and left a mess after its feast.

When he returned to his camp, Holden investigated the area with care. Tamef never mentioned where his camp was, which left Holden to find out on his own. Looking around where Tamef had disappeared, Holden was pleased with himself when he found bootprints. After clearing out his camp, Holden followed the prints off into the woods. He kept his bow drawn, just in case there was something looking to turn him into the boar. It would be something a scout must deal with atop everything else, he supposed. Predators, the elements, and his own necessities would be just a few of the problems he would need to solve. Perhaps that was the purpose of Tamef abandoning him, to show how difficult it was to be a scout.

A loud growl snapped Holden out of his thoughts. It came from somewhere out of sight, concealed by the thick brush. Scanning his surroundings, Holden readied an arrow. A thread of dread weaved into his mind reminded him that there were creatures -- like bears -- that only grew enraged at pain. But, other than run -- with his leg as it was, that was not an option -- he had nothing else to keep him alive other than to fight. Then, the rustling stopped, though the tension of the moment only kept rising. Holden could feel the eyes of the hidden beast watching, waiting patiently for his next move.

Holden was not going to stand being stalked, much less being hunted. He kept looking around, until he saw a pair of vibrant, yellow eyes, staring at him. Without hesitation, he released his arrows, just as the eyes disappeared. Listening to the unknown creature bound away, Holden relaxed for the moment. Whatever manner of creature it was, at least it appeared to be vulnerable to fear. When Holden looked for the footprints, he frowned. His worry over the beast had led him astray from the path. However, he was not left without a trail for long. The smell of smoke wafted out of a thin passage ahead, where a tremendous rock has split in two ages ago.

It must be Tamef’s camp. If not, the way forward would at least reduce the risk of the predator that stalks him finding a way to flank him. Holden slowed his pace, taking care with each step. Any injury inflicted by being reckless was an assurance of death when he would be on the field, after all. Voices bounded through the canyon, as it widened out the deeper that Holden went. He felt relieved, as it meant that he made it to the camp, after all. What came into view, though, was anything but.

Holden did not recognize any of the men and women at this camp, and could not spot Tamef amongst them, either. For that, he remained wary. The odor of cooking meat hit him with nearly overwhelming force, though nobody seemed to partake in eating. Crouched, he drew closer to the camp, and listened in on the strangers.

“This is a bad idea, Leucis. This isn’t sacking some small lookout in the woods; and officer, for Arade Herself’s sake!” The worried voice was met by a low chuckle, one that sounded like stones grinding, and the actual voice was far more discomforting, even with its tell-tale airy tone.

“You wear yourself over nothing, Delisar,” it said, in complete contrast to its worried counterpart. “The harder we push, the faster this oak will fall. This is what His Majesty, King Daewanex wanted, is it not?”

“This is the wrong enemy to start an empire on; they would sink our ships, and cleave our military strength in twain before His Majesty can give the first order!”

“You underestimate our fellow Watchmen.”

“Arade blessed us to defend our homeland. What if that blessing ceases to exist when we go out to war?”

“We already have, Delisar. Now, tell the others to burn the rest of the bodies. We have plenty of work to do before nightfall.”

Tales of Erelith: The Exile (Chapter 2, Part 1)

The bark of a tree splits as an arrow slams into the trunk, lodging itself deep into the wood.

“Not bad,” Saul commented, standing behind Holden. “Remember, if you wish to take life with your bow, you must forfeit your own life to the bow. Let it become not a tool, but a part of your very being.”

Picking up another arrow, Holden drew his bow back, and steadied his breathing to suppress involuntary movements. Then, with a single motion, he released his arrow. It soared through the air, and slammed into the bark, right next to the arrow prior. He was not surprised by his accuracy. He had been undergoing this training for a few months, now, working from sunrise to sunset. With each passing day, his precision improved, his concentration grew, and his motions became more fluent.

“Your grouping seems consistent. To say you’ve improved after all this time is an understatement.” Saul clasped Holden’s shoulder. “Well, that’s honestly all I have to show you as an archer, Holden.”

“Pardon?” Holden looked at Saul, confused. “You merely taught me how to aim and fire.”

“Were you raised to believe that archers did elsewise?” Saul chuckled softly, and shook his head. “Unfortunately, that is all you will do, cut and dry. You fire a volley of arrows on command, and little more.” He approached the tree, inspecting the arrows. “It’s a shame, that. You’ve got quite the knack for marksmanship. I’m sure your arrows will always find their target.”

“My father spoke highly of you. How did you earn so much respect if you were in such a passive role?” Holden followed Saul, his brow furrowed. Something was not right. “What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing,” answered Saul. Ripping the arrows from the bark, he inspected them closely for signs of wear. “You asked for the training to become an archer, and that is what I have given you.” There was a pause, before Saul cleared his throat. “You would do well to know that there is another occupation in the military that requires a specialty with a bow. You never asked what I did in my time of service.”

“Then tell me.” A voice in the back of Holden’s head echoed his father’s words, to become an archer, and nothing more. However, his heart yearned to earn the honor Saul had during his service, and curiosity desired to see the world in Saul’s perception.

“As you no doubt have learned from the simplicity of being an archer, there is little hope to be distinguished for your bravery there.” Finding the condition of the arrows satisfactory, Saul began to clean them with a rag. “My mission was to survey areas before the expeditionary forces arrived. It reduced the risk of getting ambushed, and dispelled the enemy’s advantage of knowing the battlefield. However, recognition of my gift in stealth made my list of duties grow. I began stalking, recording and.. removing patrols, raiding small camps, and causing complete mayhem.”

“That’s impressive. What was your role?”

“I was part of On’hino’s experimental scout forces,” Saul explained, “those sent in before the tip of the spear. The astounding success produced from my subterfuge made the scout units a permanent force in service to On’hino. If you’re interested, we’ll see about training you for that path. Be warned, very few ever succeed in the training alone. And the fieldwork itself is much more difficult.”

Holden nodded. Surely, being a scout was more dangerous than being an archer, but his family would be treated as just a step below royalty. Except, he would not gamble away his fortune like Saul. He followed Saul back to the cottage, stopping to feel the cool gust of wind sliding across his back. The First Frost drew near. “Actually, I may stop by my family’s farm, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” Saul stopped and turned around to face Holden. “Part of your training is to develop mental toughness, scout or not. It’ll do you no good if your home is fresh  in your mind. You’ll grow complacent, and complacency will get you killed.”

“And what of their crops? Do you want me to leave them to rot?”

“Your father is a man who is far from incompetent, even in his present state. I’ll go there myself as well, so quit your worrying.” Saul gave Holden’s shoulder a pat, before a sudden, shrill whistle took his attention. He whistled in correspondence, and watched several people emerge from the treeline. “It seems that supper will have to wait.”

“If the timing was poor, I can take this lot back later,” one of the people -- a grizzly, muscular man -- suggested.

“No,” replied Saul, “I’d go soft if everything was at my convenience. Besides, this will make for an ample time to introduce you all to Holden, another pupil of mine.”

“Holden?” The burly man looked at Holden. “He’s a tad young for this. You’re not making this place a nursery, are you?” He chuckled, and offered Holden a hand. “Tamef, pleased to meet some fresh blood. You know how to live in the wilderness? How far has Saul taken you?”

“He has only taught me archery so far,” Holden answered.

“Well, that’s an important skill to master as well,” Tamef said, glancing at Saul.

“Indeed. Without the ability of the bow, living out in the wilderness becomes much harder.” Saul rubbed his chin for a moment, before beckoning Tamef closer. He leaned in to whisper, and Tamef’s eyes shot wide.

“You can’t be serious,” Tamef exclaimed, gesturing to Holden. “That boy is too soft--”

“Then harden him.” Saul opened the door to his home, and gave Holden a grin. “If you’re so deadset on learning, go with Tamef. He’ll take you to live in the wilderness for a while.”

“What?” Confused by the sudden development, Holden looked at Saul for further explanation. “I thought you were going to teach me.”

“You’ll be wedded to inconvenience as a scout,” said Saul. “So, accept that things will often resign themselves from your plan. Now, are you going with Tamef, or are you going to give up before we even start?”

Holden sighed, and approached Tamef. “Where do we being?”

“Maybe by at least feigning some excitement?” Tamef grinned, and motioned for Holden to follow him. The others he arrived with were already gone, though there was no blatant signal to send them off. “Where did you come from?” asked Tamef.

“A small farm, not too far from here.” Holden looked around, finding himself plunging into the depths of the forest. “I asked Saul for archery lessons, so that I may become a soldier--”

“A soldier” Tamef raised an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder at Holden. “For what reason do you wish to fight under the banner?”

“So that my family can move off of the farm, and into the cities. Maybe even a manor, all the way in Okeluiso.” Holden smiled at the thought, not only of luxury for himself, but for his mother and father. There would be no more endless labor, or fear that there would be no food on the table.

“So you’re going to become a scout, one who goes through the worst of it all, just so you can live your life in a fancy house?” Tamef was quiet for a moment, before letting out a howl of laughter. “To each his own, I suppose.”

“And why do you want to serve as a scout?”

“I never said I did,” Tamef replied once he got his laughter under control. He led Holden further into the woods, until it became difficult to tell where they were at all. “Needless to say, a scout is nowhere near field-worthy if he can’t tell which way is up, or where in the Nine Hells he is. So, I’ll leave you here.” Tamef slipped a pack free of his back, and dropped it in front of Holden. “You will sleep here tonight, and by sunset tomorrow, I expect you to arrive at my camp.”

“Wait,” Holden pleaded, “I don’t know how to navigate in the woods. How am I supposed to get to you?”

“Now’s a great time to learn.” Tamef set down his bow and quiver. “You bring this back in the best shape possible, or I’ll make a new bow from your bones.” With that, Tamef started to work his way further into the woods. “Remember, moss grows North, and the sun rises from the East!”

Tales of Erelith: The Exile (Chapter 1)

The sky was a sea of grey, the sun all but absent from its dais above a modest farm. A gentle breeze gave a sway to the crops, and a rustling to the surrounding forest. At the front of a small house overlooking the farm stood a father and son; looking over the scene in silence. The son shifted impatiently in place, like a riled up horse. It was natural for a man coming into adulthood to be so restless, in dire need of some task to keep his hands busy. The son’s apparent discontent only added to his stirring.

“Why don’t you want me to do this?” he asked, not looking his father in the eye. “Do you want us to live like this? Struggling with the earth to get just enough to put food on our table?”

“You know full well that your mother would prefer to eat scraps than to have a child at rest before she is.” The father remained still, his eyes fixated on the crops. “And even if you were to come out alive, you would not be her child anymore.”

The son scoffed. “I don’t want to live my life working myself ragged on this farm, and watch you and mother do more of the same. I could pull us up higher in status, and then--”

“Then your mother and I will strip you of your name.” The father glanced over at his son. “By all means, if this is the path you wish to lead, then go. We cannot stop you, by words or by force. But, we cannot take you back after you make such a commitment.”

“And why is that?” The son stared at his father in disbelief. “You served for over a decade, and for the same reason that I wish to. So, why must I be punished for trying to seek a better life for us all?”

“War changes people, Holden.” The father slumped against the wall, and lowered himself down to the ground with care. “The things you see, experience and do will leave you a husk of who you are now, no matter how hard you may try to hide or fight that.” The breeze subsides, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The father exhales softly, barely audible even in the lack of noise. “My son, you are a man now. You need not my blessing or your mother’s, if you can learn to live without that warmth. You can choose to serve, yourself. Just remember, nobody leaves the battlefield undamaged.”

“I-- I understand.” Holden turned around to take a good look at his father, and the stump where his leg should have been. If there was anyone who could understand the horror behind war, it was him. “We should head inside,” Holden said, before helping his father back up, and supporting him into the house.

“Have you talked to Saul about archery lessons?” Holden’s father asked. He gave a small grunt as Holden set him down at a worn table, sitting just outside the kitchen. The entire interior of the house was ravaged by time, and dust coated anywhere that the family of three did not frequently tend to, like the shelves and their contents.

“Archery?” Holden looked at his father, puzzled. “People think archers are cowards.”

“Because they do not charge into battle, nor look their foes in the eyes, to see death do its work so eagerly?” The father patted his stump. “I’d rather be labeled a coward if it means not seeing nor experiencing what I had. Now, if you wish to serve On’hino, that is your decision alone. I  merely ask the latter for your own sake, and mine.”

Holden sat down across from his father and clasped his hands together. “If this matter is so dire to you, then very well; I’ll talk to Saul about learning archery.” It was not like he could just contest his father’s wish. He looked over his shoulder as the kitchen door opened, and a tall, beautiful woman bearing a basket of fruits and bread came through. Even in her age, her grace and vibrant smile refused to whither.

“I’m sorry, but the demand for meat has left nothing in the markets that we can afford,” she said, setting the basket down on the table. “I trust that the two of you have the crops well looked after? We’ll need every Angit we can make if we’re going to live comfortably through the next Frost.”

“Don’t worry, mother. Father and I are doing our best.” Holden gave her a small, reassuring grin.

“Indeed we are. But, I believe that Holden has something to tell you.” The father glanced at Holden, gesturing for him to go ahead.

“Well,” Holden started, but could not continue. His father chose the moment strategically, to disarm him and sap the spirit behind his decision. His lips curled into a frown, bracing himself for his mother’s reaction. “I’m going to see if Saul will take me in for a while.”

“Oh, Holden. I told you to stay away from him!” His mother shook her head as she sat down. “He’s a gambler, what reason could you possibly have for going to him?”

“I need him to teach me how to be adept with the bow. I’m planning to go into service--”

“What’s this?” His mother scoffed at him. “Don’t you see what the military is? They chewed up your father, and spat him out a broken man--”

“Damaged,” the father interjected, “not broken. You’ll know a broken man when you see one.” A silence filled the room, as he pulled the basket towards himself, and plucked free an apple. “Our son is a child no more, dear. We cannot hold him against his will. It is his right to see the world as he sees fit.”

“I’ll be fine, mother,” said Holden. “Father wants me to be an archer, so that I will be nowhere near the actual combat.” As the usual vibrancy in his mother died, he could not ignore the pang guilt that struck his heart.

“You should have just lied,” his mother said in a choked voice. “Lied, and let me believe my child set out on a less foolish course.”

“Never.” Holden stood up from the table. “The moment I do lie to you, I hope the gods strike me down, and let me wander Om’s domain ‘till my spirit is no more.” He turned his back to his mother, as it was slowly killing him, having to see that crushed expression on her face. “When I come back, I’ll make sure we’ll never have to struggle again.”

“You ought to leave now,” his father said, leaning back in his seat. “This is the closest she’ll come to letting you be on your way.”

Holden nodded. “And you’re sure you can handle the farm on your own?”

“I’ve done much harder things, and while I was in worse shape, too. I’ll take care of things here.” His father gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’re wasting time, worrying about the unnecessary.”

“Promise me,” the mother pleaded softly. “Promise me that you will come here alive and well. “That’s all I ask.”

Turning around, Holden wrapped his arms around his mother, and pulled her into a hug. Squeezing her gently, he spoke in a soft voice. “I promise.”

***

There was a break in the clouds, as a few rays of sunlight streaked down from the heavens. It boded well for Holden, as it hinted that no storm would assail upon him before he reached Saul. He took one of the many trade routes throughout On’hino, one of those that were constantly patroled by the military. With more and more tales of bandits taking everything short of smallclothes, any chance to improve his safety would be taken with gratitude. With open fields to either side of the route, it made the fear of being ambushed by highwaymen less potent.

Then, the faint rumble of hooves trampling the earth garnered Holden’s attention. As it grew louder, a pair of horses came into view, mounted by a pair of riders, clearly soldiers. They wore the distinctive silver and blue colors, and their equipment shined in the daylight. They slowed down on their approach.

“Good afternoon, citizen,” one said. He was a tall blonde man, with a rugged yet handsome complexion. He spoke with a projected voice. “I am Sergeant Honler, and this,” he gestured to the other soldier, “is Lieutenant Yerryn. If it will not be of terrible burden, we request your aid.”

Holden blinked. What use could they have of him? “I’m not sure if I can be of much use, but I’ll try my best.”

“That is all we ask,” Yerryn said. She was of an average height, with coppery locks of hair swaying with the gentle breeze. Like pieces of the same puzzle, she mirrored Honler’s pride and official mannerism. “We’re looking for a farm, not too far from here. Does the name ‘Alnhart’ mean anything to you?”

Holden held his tongue when the woman spoke his family name. If the military was actively searching for them, it either meant something like being compensated for his father’s service, or something that would bode ill. Regardless, it was nothis place to disrupt their orders. “The Alnharts live a ways down there,” he said, gesturing down the road behind him.

“Many thanks, citizen. Come, Sergeant.” Yerryn took the reins of her horse and wasted little time, spurring it to a full gallop. The Sergeant studied Holden for a moment, before he rode off as well. Left by himself once more, Holden picked up his pace, and silently prayed that the latter possibility would not become a reality.

The rays of light piercing the clouds grew dim as the hours passed, introducing a more grim atmosphere. The vibrance of the grass faded, and the forest ahead harbored shadows as thick as mud. Holden pressed onward, even though every fiber of his being wanted to turn away. He was not far off from Saul’s, now. He just had to get through the woods, and then he could avert his attention to explaining why he had come all the way out here.

A sudden burst of rustling at his flank caused Holden to whirl around, only to find a stranger -- the face indiscernible by the darkness of night -- in his face, and something sharp at his belly.

“Move, and I’ll gut you like a fish,” the stranger threatened, though the dagger at Holden’s gut delivered the message much more clearly. “Who are you? Military? Why are you looking for veterans?”

“I’m not military,” explained Holden, “I’m just a farmer’s boy.”

“Then stay that way. Secrets and corruption plague this land, and one would do well to stay independent of the king’s will.”

“Get your hands off of him,” another voice in the darkness growled. However, this one sounded familiar. Almost instantly, the stranger and dagger withdrew, letting Holden give an exhale of relief, his heart throbbing in his chest. “Does he really look capable of fighting in a war?”

The stranger looked Holden over, before shaking his head. “I suppose not. But, caution is the lifeblood of survival.”

“And paranoia is the parent of insanity.” The other figure in the darkness came into view, and Holden felt a somewhat confusing sense of relief when he recognised the face.

“Saul?” Holden blinked, and rubbed his eyes, only to find that they did not fail him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Saul gestured for him to stay silent.

“The roads are quite active this evening,” the stranger said. “I’ll try to deliver the message, but do not count on my success.”

“I’m afraid I must. Now, we’ve wasted more time than I’d have liked to. Go.” Giving the stranger a pat on the shoulder, Saul turned his attention to Holden. “You’ve grown so much,” he said in a cordial tone, in the exact opposite of the attitude he owned a moment ago.  “But, your face is a hard one to forget, Holden.” Even in the dark of night, Saul’s grin shone. “It has been a long time since you came to visit.  What brings you here?”

“I need to ask a favor of you,” Holden explained, “I need you to teach me how to use a bow.”

Saul nodded, and motioned for Holden to follow him. “Archery isn’t something mastered overnight. It could take years to reach a remarkable level of skill.” He grinned, glancing over his shoulder. “Well, years if you were under another mentor. I’ll have you at a respectable level before the First Frost.”

Holden smiled back. He was fortunate to have someone like Saul as a friend, who likely would not have given him such an opportunity if the circumstance was any different.

“How has your father been?” Saul asked. “He hasn’t sent for my assistance for a long while.”

“He’s doing well, he has been managing to get a lot of work done, all things considered.”

Saul chuckled with a nod. “That sounds like him. Always fighting adversity, never one to lean on somebody if he can help it.” He led Holden off of the road, down a well-worn path. “He was the same way when we were Sea Tigers. Broken bones, illness, significant injuries; none of that stopped him.”

“You’ve said as much before.” Looking past Saul, Holden could see a small cottage sitting at the base of a hill. A thought crossed his mind as they reached the door. “Who was that man?” He knew that Saul was tangled in business of a foul nature, but this was different. The stranger was ready to kill him on the mere presumption he was a soldier.

“Holden,” Sault started, the cheerfulness now absent, “there some people who believe that our homeland is not as it should be. And, they’re willing to argue that against the king himself.”

Holden gripped Saul’s shoulder whirling him around. “You’re working with rebels? Have you gone mad? They were the ones who burned down the nation’s storehouse! People starved throughout the last Frost because of them.”

“That is not what I am a part of, I promise.” Saul turned back around, and opened the door for Holden. “Some small band of anarchists set the storehouse ablaze. What I am involved in is a group not set on defying the king, but against the corruption sitting under his seat.”

“Under his seat?”

“I can say nothing more on the matter.” Closing the door, Saul motioned for Holden to sit at a small, wooden table. Sitting down across from him, Saul folded his arms over his chest. “You’re going to owe me a favor, after I teach you. What use will you have for archery, anyways? Planning to become a hunter?”

“Not quite. My father said that I should come to you for training so that I may join the military.” There was a brief pause, as Saul studied Holden with a stern gaze.

“I cannot just turn back on my word, I suppose. But, heed my words. Should you intend to go into service to On’hino, be wary of the vipers you lay beside.” Saul gave a small groan, and rubbed his eyes. “The guest room is just as you left it. Go on and get some rest, gods know I’ll need it.”