"Run, Adam, Run!" A blond-haired green-eyed woman screamed out, flakes of fire littering the air around her, slowly falling like snow on a calm winter's night. A dark-haired man wearing silver armor covered in engravings could be seen dashing in the opposite direction of the woman's screams. His metal boots clacked on the crumbling stone floor beneath him. The proud stone walls covered with torn paintings fell around him as the ground violently shook.
A tear could be seen falling from the man's face as he flew through the flames. Enveloping him with burns across his arms and body. Only his hands remained untouched, covered by a pure white towel wrapped up and pressed firmly to his chest. Faint whimpering could be heard humming through the towel; the man ran because it was the only option.
The man passed through his destroyed village, straw roofs turned to torches, and others caved into craters. Paralyzing roars echoed through the distance, rupturing the ground itself. Not bothering to check the cold, lifeless corpses littering the ground, the man raced into the forest, erasing his presence from the world he knew.
"Dad, tell me the story of how you got those burns again!" A small brown curly-haired, blue-eyed boy asked, his giant puppy dog eyes shining towards the man while the boy snuggled under his blanket.
"Again?"
"I just told you that story; how about I tell you a different one tonight?" A man who seems to be in his 40s with dark hair and calm blue eyes replied back to the small boy. While kneeling down to tuck the boy's green wool blankets in tighter. Ensuring he would be warm for the cold night ahead of them.
"Please!" The boy said, standing his ground, looking up towards the man, his ocean blue eyes shining with passion with his voice rising slightly at the end of the word.
"Ok, but this is the last time this week, you hear!?" The man said after a few seconds, having given in for the third time that week, knowing full well that there would be a fourth.
"Long ago, there lived a proud shining knight, tougher and mightier than anyone else in the kingdom. He was strong, but he felt he had much to prove. So one day, the proud knight set off in hopes to slay a dragon." The man pronounced while sitting on the edge of the small boy's bed. The boy's smile lets the man know how much he loved this story.
"So he requested an audience with his king, asking him for permission to embark on his adventure." The man articulated while waving his arms, weaving the fabric of his tale into the small boy's mind. By now, the boy had sat up, eyes glistening and adoring the man as he told the story, the sheets coming untucked as he sat up.
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"The king told the knight that he could only go if he slew the dragon in his name." At this point, the man began to slow his story down.
"The knight agreed and set out immediately, looking for any dragon for which he could slay. But no matter how far he searched, none could be found." He said, looking ever so slightly sad while at the same time looking ever more fondly at the boy.
"But after a while of searching, the knight ran into something different than what he was searching for." The man said as he began tightening the boy's sheets once again.
"And then what happened? Tell me the rest!" The boy said, pleading with the man, his puppy eyes staring into his soul. Hoping that the man might tell him the rest of the story. Not once had he actually finished.
"Maybe another night, little man; I am super tired tonight, ok?" The man said, managing to resist those innocent eyes.
"Oh, ok, goodnight." The boy said disheartened , still accepting the answer given. This wasn't the first time the man had stopped halfway through the story, and it wouldn't be the last. But he still loved the man and figured one day the story would be finished.
"Goodnight, Asher!" the man said as he finished tucking the boy in. Then, leaning down, he gave the boy a kiss on his forehead, his light beard scratching the boy, causing him to squirm as he tried to escape his father's affection.
“Goodnight Dad.” Asher worded while the man left the room, heading past the kitchen and back to his room, a small bedroom with barely enough space to sleep, the log walls thick enough to keep out some of the colds looming outside. The man hoped for a few good hours of sleep before the boy inevitably woke up at dawn. They would then have to complete the neverending chore list that kept them alive.
10 Years Later -
An older-looking gentleman with gray hair mixed in with what used to be dark brown wakes up and begins his duties for the day. His day starts with fighting off the dirt that had managed to invade the cabin, pestering the chickens, and attacking the cow for its milk. Once everything is said and done, the man heads inside to wake his son; with a gentle nudge and the promise of breakfast, the teen slowly makes his way to the kitchen.
"So, what dried food is on the menu for today?" The sleepy-eyed teen asked while sitting down, not bothering to look up at the man sitting across the table. He already knew his facial expression; there was no need to confirm his theory.
"Well, if someone went hunting once and a while, we could eat fresh meat. But until that happens, this is what we got. So eat up and do your chores," The man said with a trace of spite while placing down two wooden hand-sculpted plates, a small portion of dried meat sitting on them. One in front of the teen and the other himself.
"Ya, ya, I know, it's just so damn cold out there this time of year! I'll go hunting today after I'm done with the chores." The boy stated with a more mellowed-out voice. He knew he was the only one who could do it, and based on the small rations in front of him today, he needed to go hunting and bag something quick.