It was the day after my eight birthday. Well dressed and well-armed men and women covered in fancy looking armors and leathers came marching through the little town of Blythe in which I lived with my parents and sister. I still remember it vividly, the four of them from Aetheria. Akosh, a man who looked to be in his late twenties, who rode atop a well trained horse leading the group of them. His long reddish brown hair tied back into a tail revealing his well scarred face, bushy eyebrows and bright golden eyes. A stunning leather vest ornamented with bits of metal and embossing cloth. His movements sway with his horse as he strode down the main town road. Behind him rode the others, followed by an elegant cart open to the wind pulled by two riderless steeds.
His voice was loud and grating as he stopped not far from the little tavern that serviced the town. Everyone had begun gathering around. Men, women, everyone of all ages. They were heroes, adventurers. Everyone knew it. Everyone was worried of it. The guild of Aetheria often didn’t come around for little to no reason. Most often there were called or heard of threats. So, their arrival, though wonderous. Was a call for concern. And concerned people were as they gathered around. I remember looking at my sister, Pekka, about three years older than I. Looking on in her soft pink wrapped dress, her dirty golden hair just like my mothers draped down across her slender shoulders. She bit her lip as her hands fell to her lap grasping one another. My mother, a crouched slightly behind us. A hand on each of our shoulders. My father, with his rugged look and skin darkened from all the long days of labor for nothing but a pittance. His face was stone and cold. Surely remembering the last time they came. A time before my own. I’ve only heard stories of the horrors the goblin tribes visited upon us. Kids only a bit older than me, with their missing parents. So I too, looked upon them, taking my mothers hand waiting to hear what horror, what tale has come true and what will soon befall us all. My mind buzzed of all the scary things I could think of before his booming voice silenced my mind.
“Worry not! We are here for no dangers today!” He said with a flashy smile plastered across his torn face. Obviously reading the people gathered around with their baited breaths held in their chests. A collective sigh of relief began to pour from everyone in the crowd around me. Even I, felt reassured by those words. Until. “We’re here, to search for recruits!” His voice sounding cocky and proud as he continued “I’m sorry, no adults! So preferably no one of marriageable age! And you must have a good physical condition! However, for the families of the recruits you’ll received six hundred cippons! And your children will be well fed and cared for as they learn to fight! Plus, an additional hundred cippons will be sent each year your child trains!” He said so that all the crowd could hear. I was confused by this, at first. Also, by the sheer amount they were offering. Six hundred? My father barely made half a cippon a day.
His horse standing sideways before us as the man looked over the crowd. Whispers and talking broke out amongst one another. To anyone there, it would be a small fortune. Though not a word was said in his direction, and many faces started glancing back at one another. He stood firm. Unflinching, awaiting the responses. And the responses he waited for started to come. First from a small family that I knew well. They owned the bakery in town. They stepped forward. Their daughter between them, a girl I knew and played with from time to time as she was close to my age, only about a year younger. Rilla with her soft brown hair just a tad longer than shoulder length messy as she’s pulled it front of her own face and her brown day dress are marched before the group of them all. Her eyes barely visible behind her hair cannot hide the fact the tears had started to form down her pearly cheeks.
“Our daughter will go with you.” Somberly replies to the wrinkled old man, his wife by his side as they gently push her forward as the man atop the horse looks down from above. Sliding off in an elegant manner her moves to approach them. He without hesitation places his hands upon both parents.
“Worry not for your girl! Thanks to this, we will be able to continue to keep the lands safe, for generations to come. Now, what’s your name?” He says continuing with his strong smile and unwavering attitude. As he passes a pouch filled with cippons to the father, he crouches down before my friend. His hand lightly outstretched.
“Rilla.” Her father replied for her as she seemed to stunned to speak. As his eyes peered into the pouch he looked up to the man.
“Well Rilla. I’m Akosh.” He says in a vibrantly positive manner. “We’ll take care of you, okay? There are a lot of fun things and other people your age at our castle. I’m sure you’d like to see a castle, right?” He continues with the chipper mannerisms. Obviously trying his hardest to keep her cheered up as he took her into his arms. Swiftly he brings her back to one of his companions. A younger woman, maybe within her early twenties. Her leathers colored pink and red, inlaid with shiny metal plates covering her chest and shoulders. She too, gives Rilla her best comforting smile as she brushes her own short reddish hair away from her face.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
It is not long before the next steps forward. A woman I have seen about. My father has helped her a few times. Apparently, she was someone who lost her husband in the goblin raids. Her son, Lydan, I did not like very well at all. He was a year younger than my sister and always angry. His truly short nearly shaved black hair, slightly greasy catching the light of the sun as it reached its peak. He seemed to always have a scowl on his face and a bad attitude. He would pick on me and my friends, even my sister for her twisted leg. The two of them stepped forward, my eyes watching the spectacle again unfold. However, behind me I could hear the muttering of my own parents. Talking in hushed whispers to one another. I still remember. The sadness on their faces.
As Lydan went forward, giving his mother the cippons without protest. I felt the familiar hand of my father, withered and rugged as it was against the back of my shirt. In soft words he spoke to me.
“Always said you’d fight off monsters someday, right Cain?” As I looked back, I saw the fake smile plastered across his face. I knew already what he was saying. But in my gut, being away from them, from my sister. In that moment it felt like too much to bear.
“No, da.” I eeked out, my hands gripping at his worn-out clothing. “Please.” I pleaded with him, my eyes felt wet as I gazed into his stern face.
“I’m sorry, Cain. You may hate me now, but this will be a better life than I can give you here.” He said, where I could see his own eyes shake. He presses his lips to hold them resolutely, not letting the pressure out. Nudging me to move up. Seeing this, Pekka took a bold step forward towards me, nearly stumbling in the process.
“You can’t do this.” She said firmly towards my father. Her voice was quiet yet had a certain forcefulness behind it. Her face had a calm anger as she stared daggers into him. But as it seemed as my mother who had already stepped back, sobbing into her sleeve. They have already made their decision. Yet my sisters tight grasp around my chest her cheek pressed to mine finally brought my tear to fall.
“I’m sorry.” My father said, in a low tone. He repeated it, again, and again. Pekka separated from me with his push as I trudged slowly forward. I stepped out in front of the crowd. I felt all of their looks on my back as I stared up at the man, Akosh. As with the others his teeth flashed towards me.
“A strong looking kid!” He let out his compliment loud as he came to meet my eyes. “I can already tell, you’re gunna be great at protecting others.” I could feel the effort he was making to inflict me with his own cherry attitude. I would be lying if I said it didn’t work. At least a little bit. His large hand pat me on the back as he ushered me towards another of the others.
A large burly man, his bulky arms protruding from some heavy reflective metal chest-plate, so reflective in fact I could see my face distorted within it. My hair a mess, my eyes starting to turn red. The mans heavily tanned hand reached out to me, wide face giving a half smile with a few obviously missing teeth. Bushy eyebrows contrasting his mostly shaved head, save for a patch of hair running down the middle to a black tied braid. I take it reluctantly, almost refusing to turn around back to my sister who’s sobs I could hear faintly amongst the crowd.
“Name’s Brogo.” He said heartily in a grumbly deep voice. “What’s yers kid?” He continues while leading me towards the elegant looking cart behind them. Etched into the dark wood was a carving of a dragon framing the heavy metal wheels. It looked much better than built than any old cart or home in our little town.
“Cain.” I sounded out in a soft voice, honestly a little intimidated by his large stature. At the time I felt he was nearly twice the size of my father. Giants blood, I thought. His heavy footsteps sounded behind me in the dirt of the road as he gave me a boost into the back of the cart to join Rilla and Lydan.
Almost without hesitation Rilla scooted across the sun warmed bench closer to my side grabbing on for dear life as if she was about to be swept away by something. Lydan however, his eyes picked up from staring at the pristine wooden flooring to bore into the two of us. “Why do you look like that?” He said with a stern resentment. Confused as to his meaning, I just looked upon him. Not knowing what to say. “You’re being ungrateful. Both of you.” He scowled at us both. “They’re going to take care of our families and teach us to fight. You should be grateful to them. Stop crying.” His words were forceful and determined. Like a rigid hammer trying to strike the imperfections from steel. I didn’t believe that though. Though it succeed in causing the both of us to remain quiet as the spectacle came to a close.
No one else joined us on the cart. There were words exchanged, though my ears became deaf to them as my thoughts buzzed. Thinking about home. About what could possibly come next. The man Akosh saddling his horse and commanding the others to do the same. About facing as they did so. The cart turning after them. Rilla grasping my hand, to comfort us both. The sun seemed harsh that day, harsher than normal as we rode towards it while it loomed over the distant mountains.
The next week after that we spent traveling with the group of them. Back to their manor where they would begin training us. Each night we stopped off the side of the road, they started a camp and told us stories of their hardest fights and greatest triumphs. It was cold those nights, especially without Pekka. She was always there to watch over me and would keep me safe at night. Instead, each night I had a small bedroll to myself, to stare at the stars and wonder what it would be like. Each of them, over that week had sold me a dream. One of valor, renown, and wealth. It did help comfort me for what I had left behind. Yet, they did not explain how difficult the training would be.