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.”
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