The boys were playing in the woods.

“Catch!” cried Gapp.

A wooden ball flew past Bort’s face.

“No one could have caught that!” shouted Loom.

Bort cried. Another of the boys, Frigg, rushed to comfort his friend.

Don’t worry about remembering these names. The main character will not. Speaking of which…

“Ah, I need to leave. I think I just heard my mother cry,” said a boy standing appropriately separatly from the others. He is the main character, in case you didn’t understand.

“How?” asked Frigg. “You live on a small farm on the outskirts of town. There’s no way the sound could carry.”

“Who are you talking to?” asked Bort, confused.

“Not you”, said Frigg.

“I’m pretty sure it was Bort,” said the boy who until recently had been standing appropriately separatly from the others, but now moved closer.

“No, I was talking to you!” cried Frigg.

“Who, me?” asked Gapp.

“No, that guy! Can’t you see where I’m pointing?”

Frigg, indeed, pointed.

“Just say the name of who you’re pointing at,” said the formerly separate boy, who is, as I’ve said, the main character of this story.

“I really shouldn’t need to!” said Frigg.

“Beginning a dialogue with someone’s name is common courtesy,” said the boy who had recently undertaken movement in the companionable direction.

“Right. But we’re not at the beginning of a dialogue. We’ve been playing for hours.”

“You’ve forgotten his name, haven’t you?” asked the boy with a history of standing separately, raising an eyebrow.

“No. We’ve been friends for years,” said Frigg. “Look, whatever, I don’t even care about the original question anymore.”

“Hah, he gave up! He really can’t remember. Who is it, Bort, Gapp?” The boy who until recently was separate, but could now be accurately described as within the middle of the action, laughed.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“God damn it, Baladin!” said Frigg.

“Oh,” replied Baladin. “Me.”

“Yes. There’s no way you could have heard your mom, all the way on the outskirts of town. We’re positively in the middle of town!”

Frigg motioned to their surroundings, an empty forest. It was of the Western tradition to build every house on the outskirts of town.

Baladin’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know, I definitely heard something.”

Frigg raised an eyebrow. “Well, whatever. I don’t wanna play anymore.”

Brigg raised both eyebrows. “I was winning!”

Loom raised an eyebrow. “I thought I won?”

Gapp’s eyebrows furrowed. “Loom scored one half and a fiddle. Brigg walked the bridge, but failed the scoop. Wait, did Frigg declare moon-season? Gah, let’s call it a draw.”

The interested reader can buy the officially licensed Wooden Ball game in stores and find for themselves who won the battle (noting that the boys are playing Ardum Caed, or “Southern rules,” and so the table on p. 66 should be rolled twice).

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” said Baladin.

“Yes, it is your flowering day!” said Frigg, finally letting his eyebrow lower. “To think it will be 16 years since you were pushed out of that fated vagina… I’m excited!”

“I can already taste the food,” said Brigg.

“The same gruel we always eat always tastes better on a flowering day,” said Loom.

“I look forward to it. I just hope nothing happens so that the flowering day is interrupted,” said Baladin.

The boys showed genuine concern, and each thought quietly that it was nice to have friends with whom they could show emotional vulnerability.

“Don’t worry, Baladin. Everything will be fine,” said Brigg.

Baladin shook his head.

“You’re right. This is a quiet village on the outskirts of the Empire. What could possibly stop us from meeting tomorrow?”

Baladin laughed. Then he waved goodbye to his friends.

Each returned to his home. Gapp lived directly next to Baladin, but both boys always forgot this when they said goodbye, and so they had to walk together in a heavy silence.

Baladin stopped for a second. Gapp didn’t know whether he, too, should stop. Thankfully, Baladin began walking again.

“I thought I smelled smoke,” said Baladin. Whether to himself, or to his life-long friend, neither knew.

As he got closer, the smell of smoke grew stronger. Without realizing it, Baladin walked faster. Gapp started walking slower, solving his conundrum. Finally, Baladin raced past the remaining trees, smoke on his nose, heart beating against his chest.

His mother was working outside the cabin.

“I knew it! Smoked salmon!” Baladin grinned.

“I promised to make your favourite food for your flowering day, didn’t I?” said his mother.

The next day, Baladin had a wonderful flowering day together with the entire village. The food was good, and his friends held a charming speech together about how much they valued his friendship. With a full belly and a bursting heart, Baladin went to bed. And the next day, the boys played the Wooden Ball game until all the way into the evening. Gapp told the others he had to pee, and would wait a bit to go home, so Baladin walked calm and serene back home. He passed the last tree cover just in time to see the final embers of his burnt down house and the corpse of his mother.