Within a small forest clearing, two dozen children as young as twelve years old were wrestling and swinging makeshift weapons under the guise of training. If one was to raise their head, a milky grey sky, devoid of any notable features is all that would meet the eye. A ceiling of off white and grey clouds rolled above without pause or rhythm, often merging or separating into complex shapes.

Dressed in a mix of tattered coarse linen and animal furs, these youths took turns shouting and grunting while either sparring against each other, lifting logs and boulders or training their archery skills. Their only targets being the worn wooden posts which had been erected at the edge of the perimeter.

Around the sides of the field and often walking through the groups, older members of the village often surveyed the group teens, nodding in approval and offering pointers or berating their lack of attention.

This routine had been ingrained into each of them since the day the group had settled down in the forest and the makeshift village had been made a reality. For those deemed too young to look after themselves independently, this simple routine was done every day starting with sparring and archery before moving onto the creation and maintenance of the villages traps, tools and structures.

Out of sight, beyond even the training field on the outskirts of the village, sat a patchwork wooden hut. In this place thaw was still surrounded by trees and could barely even be considered a part of the village, three people were laying on the grassy floor while blanketed in the darkness. There were no windows to let in the light of day and the ‘door’ was tightly covered by a curtain of straw and leaves, blocking out the surroundings. Despite this, the inside of the hut was filled with a comfortable silence as three people lay in an embrace, savoring the moment.

“Mom, when will you tell us another story? I want one about Loki.”

“No way, he chose the last one. This time I want one about Rykar!”

“Okay, okay”, chuckling while laying in-between two children was a middle-aged woman with a small frame and long dark hair tied back into a messy bun. Rather than the mis-matched clothes of those surrounding the training field, her clothing was made entirely from brown fur which seemed to have come from the a single hide, giving a rough but warm and uniform feel. “Your brother is right, the last story was about you though Loki, so this time I’ll tell one for Rykar.”

Over the years, their mother had always told Loki and Rykar that, in their past lives, they were once gods and generals who fought against demons. Kings and saints who ruled over the masses, or even scholars and doctors who strived to make life better for the unfortunate. Being able to hear about the adventures, battles and tricks which brought them to the edge of defeat and back again were the best moments that they had. Their only escape from the dull and repetitive lives that they had to face on a daily basis.

Hearing the words of his mother, Rykar who had been laying lazily while fiddling with a piece of dry bread sat straight up like an arrow along with a wide grin and glistening eyes. Although excited, he didn’t forget to wrap the bread in a thin cloth before accurately throwing it into a corner of the room out of sight from potentially prying eyes.

Seeing his actions, his mother nodded while doing her best to bury the pain she felt at seeing how much her children had adapted to the conditions they had been raised in.

“I want to hear a story about the young warlord! Fighting against dragons and goblins and…” Getting carried away, he stood up, punching and kicking the air haphazardly while imagining all the evil he would effortlessly destroy on the battlefield for the next hour or so.

While watching her sons grow up, Lifa had always been telling her sons these stories every night, up until they had been forced to leave her side at 10 years old. That was all the time she could have given them through arguing and pleading with her husband to the point of tears, day in and day out.

Thinking back over the estranged treatment her children had faced over the years, her eyes grew hazy. Images of the many possibilities of better lives that they may have faced had she not been their mother. Or even if she could simply be stronger than the was.

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The stories which she had told Loki and Rykar were only a fragment of those that she had spent dreaming up in her idle time, wishing that they had been a reality.

Any life could have lead them towards happiness, had they been born a farmer or a shopkeeper, yet they drew the shortest straw.

Watching Rykar storming around the small room, the mother and son which were still laying on the ground let out opposite reactions. Loki simply glanced up at Rykar, bored and unamused that he wouldn’t be hearing another story of the adventures of his own character. “Do you really have to act like such a child every time?”

“Haha, don’t be jealous” Rykar smirked while reclaiming his seat next to his mother.

Just as the three had settled down again, the frail door was blasted out of place, spraying leaves and dust all over the small room while the rest of the unbalanced structure creaked slightly.

Without enough time to shield herself or her children, the dust and remnants of wood chips rained down on them while leaving light scratches and traces all over their exposed areas.

Howls of laughter echo in from the outside as a teenage boy walked into the room, his leather-bound feet dragging across the floor as if he was afraid he wasn’t loud enough.

As light poured in, the three on the ground were stunned for a short while as their eyes adjusted. However as their eyes adapted they were able to make out who was stood in front of them. A tall muscular youth with roughly cut mid-length hair and unkept stubble littering his face, a sign of his nearing maturity.

Dressed in the same style as the twins’ mother, he seemed to be wearing clothes of a better standard than any of the other youths which could be seen peering in behind him, from the outside of the door frame.

“What the f*ck do you think you’re doing here!? You know this place is off limits, you better get out before I tell my husband.” After recognising the young man, Lifa was driven into a rage immediately.

Chris, the eldest son of the village leader, her husband, had tormented the lives of her children since they had been born and that had only gotten worse over time.

Outcasting Loki and Rykar from the village may have been a heartless decision, yet it also came with its benefits, as it meant that they were away from many the dangers and hardships which were lurking within the village itself. Now, as there was little to no contact allowed between the village and the twins, at least isolation was the biggest of their worries.

Hearing Lifa’s threat, Chris stopped in place instinctively. Hesitating to the point that he even made a slight motion as though he was about to turn in his tracks and leave. However, in the next moment a broad smile was plastered to his face as he turned to face them once again and looked down on the trio teasingly.

“You see… That’s actually really, really funny. Seeing as it was my dad that told us to come here and pick them up for a little hunting trip. And while he was at it, he had been asking around for you. But, it seems seemed like you were nowhere to be found…”

The more he spoke, the further Linda’s face switched from anger to fear as Chris began to walk towards them once again with slow and leisurely steps.

“What’s also funny is that this shit hole is supposed to be off limits to everyone in the village, so why are you here right now? Out of the two of us, I wonder who will actually end up on dad’s bad side.” By the time he had finished his sentence, he was standing right in front of the three, holding his chin as though in contemplation.

“Get up, were leaving. Now.” While their mother was frozen in place, he reached down and grabbed the twins by their arms in a vice like grip, pulling them up forcefully and heading towards the door.

Out of the blue, a loud slap stopped everyone in their tracks as Linda reached round from behind and hit Chris across the side of his face. Shock cut through his brave front like a knife through butter as her figure forced its way in front them before staring him in the eyes.

“I’m going to speak to the chief. You had better still be here by the time I’m back.” With a straight face, she glanced around, attempting to threaten the group surrounding them. One by one, they lowered their eyes, unsure what to do as Lifa rushed out of the door.

Despite hearing their mother’s words, Rykar and Loki had emotionless faces, as though they were unfazed by what was happening. The previously joyful faces gave way to a blank canvas of emotions.

Even after being isolated from the village for the last three years and only having contact with their mother, it had only taken a few minutes of being in contact with their ‘old acquaintances’before they were reminded of what life was truly like in the world they lived in. Away from their colourful imaginations.

Watching their mother’s figure running across the grassy clearing, adults and children alike simply looked on with placid and uncaring expressions. There was no remorse, hatred or even contempt in most of their eyes, only disinterest.

After having seen looks just like those for the majority of their lives, the twins had unknowingly adopted their current expression while around others. The contrast would make anyone doubt they had the capacity to hold the vibrant expressions that was plastered across their faces just moments earlier.

They could spend the rest of their lives dreaming of being gods and kings, but they will always open their eyes as an outcast, looking upwards towards a tattered roof under the rolling grey clouds