“Come on, darling, blow the candles”, said his mother and lightly pushed his back. In front of Nigel was a big, multi-layered birthday cake, decorated with all kinds of expensive and delicious delicacies. In fact, the whole room was decorated extravagantly, trying to express the family’s insurmountable wealth. His father was a highly-ranked noble, after all, like most of the people in the room.

Nigel looked around again. He still couldn’t see his uncle. His uncle was a hero of the army, the commander of the Horse Spear, the one unit rumored to be the strongest of the entire army. Although it had been many years since he had had to fight a serious battle and his hair was beginning to turn gray, his uncle was still an inspiring role-model to all young soldiers of the kingdom. Brave, strong, loyal, charismatic. Uninterested in the political games taking place in the capital, he had been offered the position of General more than once, but he always refused.

“Leading the troops from behind isn’t for me. I am the first blade of the army, leading them all into battle.” That’s what he said. Nigel could still remember every word.

He blew the six candles in front of him. Everyone clapped. Nigel found no satisfaction in their approval. He didn’t care about the things all those people cared about, even though he knew he should. His mother smiled at him. “That’s my son”, said his father, and everyone clapped again. They were afraid of his father.

Nevertheless, this was an important day for their family. A child’s sixth birthday was when he officially entered the noble world. When some other children, mostly sons of military commanders, began eating the cake, Nigel’s parents took him around the room, trying to introduce him to as many important people as possible. The six year-old Nigel didn’t understand. Sometimes they would search for strict, ill-mannered old men in the crowd, ignoring some others. But Nigel wanted to meet those ones too. And sometimes, people would approach his parents, trying to introduce themselves. Mostly, his parents quickly brushed those people away.

It was a big room, with a lot of people inside. By the time his parents introduced him to those they wanted to, it was past his bedtime. The sun had almost set.

“You did well today, darling”, said his mother. “Now go to sleep.”

As he exited the room, he saw that the cake was mostly left intact. He was really looking forward to eating that… and the other children had left too. He stopped, while a maid moved away the cake to make more room for people to stand. She threw it into a gap on the wall, where they tossed all garbage. But Nigel saw her take some cream with her finger and lick it. She could have it instead of throwing it away, was what he thought. What a waste…

His next memory was from another six years after that. He was practicing sword fighting, but his progress was slow as always, as was everyone’s. His middle-aged instructor was someone from a much lower social class, someone who held great fear mixed with respect for his father. “I am going to swing now, young master.”

Nigel sighed and blocked the sword. The instructor’s strike had no force behind it. This had been the situation for as long as he could remember. The instructor would never actually attack him, or push him in a corner. He had already talked to his father about that a long time ago, and was infuriated by his answer: “You see Nigel, we nobles don’t have to fight in battle. We have others do that for us, your uncle for example. What is important for you is to marry into the royal family and inherit the family fortune.”

“But father, I want to learn how to fight. Can’t we at least ask the instructor to be a little more serious about it?”

“No, Nigel. Now get out, I have work to do.” Apparently, his father then told the instructor to be even more careful when training Nigel. Even when Nigel scolded him for that, the instructor would just lower his head and keep on doing the same things. Nigel often saw the children of the townsfolk, which his parents had told him not to approach because they were inferior. But when Nigel saw them bruised and dirty, running down the road at sunset with a bright smile on their faces, laughing, he would secretly feel jealous and loathe the spoiled kid they had forced him to grow into.

One day, the urge to meet them surmounted his fear of disobeying his father. He snuck past the guards and entered the town, hoping to play with those children. But his appearance was still that of a noble, and the children of the plain people had learnt to dislike nobles. When Nigel found the children kicking a ball around in an empty street and asked to play with them, their cold eyes reached all the way into his heart, and he felt more lonely than ever before. He turned around and ran and ran and ran, until he reached the outskirts of the city. There, just outside the town walls, was a lawless zone, full of huts and garbage, as well as homeless, dirty, poor, nasty-looking men.

“Nigel?” His uncle was standing near the town’s gate, talking to some guards. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and then he noticed that Nigel was crying. “Nigel!” he shouted as Nigel turned into an alley, embarrassed of himself. His uncle caught up almost immediately, placing his heavy hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Wait, Nigel. What happened?”

“I can’t do this, uncle”, Nigel screamed. “I want to leave this place, and father, and mother and all of them.”

“Relax, Nigel. Tell me.”

Nigel blew his nose on a handkerchief he had in his pocket. “My instructor does not teach me anything, he is just pretending to be. And my father knows about it, he told him to.” Nigel seemed to have calmed a little. “My friends are always talking about bloodlines and such, but they don’t care about me and I don’t care about them. They are not my friends. So I came here to play with the normal children, but they didn’t want me either. My parents are always busy, the servants won’t talk to me. I’m so alone, uncle. If nobles are like that, then I don’t want to be a noble!”

He was crying again, trying to wipe his tears with his sleeve. His uncle stayed quiet.

Nigel looked up, and was utterly and completely shocked. His uncle, the pinnacle of strength, the bravest, was shedding tears. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it again. Nigel could sense the emotional battle taking place inside his uncle at that time, but it was only years later that he realized his uncle’s thoughts.

“Be brave, Nigel, and hang in there. I’m sure someday you will find some people who you can call your friends. Nobody is born into this world to be alone.”

“Uncle…”

“I will train you if you really want to be strong. And I will speak to your father about that instructor. But let’s keep this between us, alright, Nigel?” He smiled, and the tears had already dried up. “Okay, uncle.” Following his uncle’s example, he wiped his tears off and headed back home, with his head held high and the satisfaction of his uncle’s promise burning his chest.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Nigel felt the sadness of his memories, but he continued reminiscing.

When that happened, he was thirteen years old. A few days later, his uncle came over to his house and he and Nigel’s father had a big argument. They were yelling at each other, terrifying Nigel, whose mother was trying to shut his ears. Eventually, his uncle left and Nigel was told that he shouldn’t have any contact with him from that point onwards. Two days later, Nigel ran away from home.

The Capital was encircled by a lawless zone, home to anything the city rejected, be it people or garbage. It was simply called the Zone. Before attempting to go there, Nigel made sure to get rid of his clothes. He exchanged them with a random stranger he saw in the city. Now he was dressed normally, or at least not rich enough to attract any unwanted attention. Crossing the gates, he stepped into a puddle of mud. It was the first step he ever took outside the city. Disgusted, he shook his leg to get the mud off his shoe. No, he said to himself as he received a curious look from bypassers, I ran away from home. I must man up. Suppressing his urge to wipe his shoe on a rock, he kept on walking in the Zone.

However, after leaving the Zone, he realized he didn’t have a way to get to his destination, and that he didn’t really have a destination at all. So he walked back into the Zone and decided to stay there until he found a means of transportation. He didn’t care about where he would go from there, he would be satisfied with just getting away from his parents and the boring, predetermined life waiting for him in the Capital.

After that day, Nigel had many adventures. He stayed in the Zone for some days, hiding from the soldiers looking for him and living off garbage, like the rest of the Zone’s inhabitants. It was terrible, but he suffered through it; he was determined to never go back.

Eventually, he climbed on the back of a carriage going to a nearby town. The first thing he did when he got there was try to find a hotel to spend the night, with the money he had stolen back in the Capital. But having spent several days in the Zone, he reeked and looked terrible, and so he was kicked out of everywhere. He eventually realized he would spend the night on the road and went to a bar, where he had a chance of not being thrown out.

However, he found something interesting at that bar. Sitting next to him were some soldiers, speaking about sieges and battles, and all those things soldiers talk about. He had always wanted to fight and be like his uncle, whom he admired very much. So he approached the soldiers and asked to be enlisted. He didn’t give them his real name, of course. He told them he was named Smith. The soldiers lacked manpower, so they let him wash himself and led him to their Commander, who was staying in a rundown hotel.

As it turned out, those soldiers were part of the revolution. At first, Nigel tried to leave, but the Commander managed to persuade him to join the revolution. Nigel was always a fan of justice, and after what he had seen in the Capital he quickly embraced the concept of a rightful revolution. He shaved what little hair had grown on his face, but he still didn’t tell them his name.

Along with those soldiers, he left the village and travelled to Waterslide. He wasn’t the only new recruit with them, but the others didn’t seem to like him. Nigel was disappointed. He was really looking forward to making friends, and now everyone was treating him coldly.

Loneliness…

Perhaps, Nigel thought, I am afraid of others having people close to them that I do not. Arthur and Escers, for example. But one can't have everything.

Nigel smiled, remembering Vreil’s words at Blackbeard: “I won’t let you harm them, Blackbeard. They are my friends!” Yes, he was Vreil’s friend. And so was Arthur. Nigel regretted his actions. He almost ruined everything with his stupidity. I must apologise, he thought, and went to find Arthur.

🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️🧙‍♂️

The snowflakes landed on Arthur’s face as he crossed the empty streets of the town. Not the underground part of course, it was too dark, just like his mood. Only a few minutes ago, Nigel had lashed out at him for no reason and probably ruined everything. Arthur had no choice but to feel partly responsible. How should he act now?

Lost in these dark thoughts he was, when he saw a familiar silhouette take a turn in front of him. “Haimer?” he asked, and ran behind him. “Haimer!” he shouted, and the dwarf turned around in surprise.

He was an old man, tall for a dwarf, but still much shorter than Arthur. His head was bald under his brownish cap. He was wearing big round glasses, and had a beard that extended from one ear to another. His nose was big and red, and on his back was a musical instrument. “Arthur?” he asked, unable to believe in his eyes. “Arthur!” he yelled and, despite his old age, ran and hugged Arthur, his head barely reaching the human’s chest. “Arthur, is it really you? How?”

“Didn’t Dulin tell you?” smiled Arthur.

“He did, but… I wasn’t sure what to expect… look at you though, you have grown big and strong. Well done, my boy. Well done!”

“How long has it been, Haimer?”

“Exactly four years and two months”, he smiled as well.

“You haven’t changed at all, Haimer.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear all about your adventures in the Human Kingdom. How are you doing in the military?”

“Yeah, you see, about that. I actually joined the revolution instead.”

“The what? Why would you join a revolution? You were hell bent on joining the Green House.”

“Let’s say I had a sudden change of mind”, Arthur laughed. “Details can wait, but can we go somewhere warmer?”

Arthur had noticed that Haimer was shivering as snowflakes danced around them.

“Yes, let’s go.” They walked to one of the entrances to the underground part of the city. “I am not young anymore, Arthur. I am way past my prime.”

Indeed, Arthur could see the tell-tale signs of time on the body of the once-dancing dwarf. Four years on this mountain really had taken their toll on him.

“Where do you live, Haimer?”

“You’ll see. It’s a nice, comfy house, just next to the square.” The house wasn’t too close by so, while walking there, Arthur told Haimer the story of how he happened to join the revolution, as well as his fights against the Black Beards with his friends.

“You really did all those?” Haimer asked as he slid the key into the keyhole. “That’s why you seem to have grown so much. Come in.”

The house was small and cozy, with a chair by the fireplace and a library full of books. Wow, Nigel would like this, thought Arthur and felt an unpleasant sting at the back of his head. “So you still live alone, huh?” As comfortable as it looked, the house lacked a woman’s touch.

“After hearing your story, do you know what it is that I’m happiest about, Arthur?”

“What?”

Haimer sat on his chair, in front of the fireplace, and placed his hands on his legs while happily looking at Arthur.

“When we travelled together, you were always alone, you had nobody besides me. And even though you didn’t show it, in your heart you suffered because of it. I remember once noticing you cry yourself to sleep. But now you have found friends, truly great friends, ones you speak about with joy. I am so proud of you, my son.”

Having said this, Haimer expected a reaction very different from Arthur lowering his head.

“I had a fight with Nigel. I think he doesn’t like me anymore for some reason.”

“Hmmm. What did you do to upset him?”

“Well, I-“ suddenly, the door opened wide and Dulin entered the house, followed by Nigel.

“Yep, thought I’d find you here”, said Dulin.

Nigel took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

“Okay…” Arthur was surprised. Joy and confusion were alternating in his heart. “It's fine, I guess. What was that all about?”

“Oh, let’s forget about it. I just had a fight with myself”, Nigel smirked. Haimer secretly raised his thumb at Dulin.