I dropped the chair in place, aligning it with the others before stepping back to view my handiwork. It had been three months since my emotional talk with Orwell, marking roughly the six month mark of my entry to this world. Today was a special day, or so I've been told. The beginning of a new calendar year. The people of the Empire all celebrated birthdays on the same day, that day being new years.
I suppose it made sense from a low-tech stand point. Why catalogue and celebrate one hundred different unique birthdays when you could all just get together once a year and proclaim you were all a year older. Genius if you ask me.
I had mostly recovered from my physical injuries, which Orwell claimed was a 'veritable miracle'. His words, not mine. Running a marathon was out of the question, but I could keep up with the other children at least. But not Yu. Never Yu. How she found the energy to be hyperactive all day every day, I'll never know. Perhaps fuddies were the secret? No that didn't make sense, I was already eating enough of them, and I don't think I could in good faith fit more into my diet. Orwell already claimed I was eating too many as it is.
Today also marked another cause for celebration within Angelsrun. Jonglir's coming of age ceremony. At the grand old age of sixteen. And with it, he would have the right to start working in the village. The only mystery was which job he would choose to pursue. Hmmm.... Truly a difficult question.
Not.
He was already parading himself around with the hunting squad, despite the fact that there was apparently a trial of combat before you could even qualify for the squad. Jonglir was either supremely confident, or supremely ignorant, and honestly, it could go either way.
That being said however, he was filling out his youthful frame, clearly taking after his large-boned father. Jonglir had already been a head taller than me when I had first come here, but now he was at least a couple of inches taller than even that. I presume he got all of the growth genes, as I don't think Yu had even grown a centimetre in the entire time I knew her. Something I'm sure her father Rammel was grateful for, as he was currently carrying her on his shoulders, and had been doing so for a while.
I wont lie. Back on earth, I hated celebrations. I would hide myself in a corner before finding an excuse and leaving early, preferring to be by myself rather than around a mass of people. It's not that I even particularly wanted to celebrate by myself or anything, I just didn't understand the majority of celebrations altogether. To me it just seemed like a thinly veiled excuse to get shitfaced. Birthdays, though. Birthdays I hated the most. Something of a personal grudge.
Never having a family meant that my birthdays, at best, were lacklustre, and at worst, never happened in the first place. It became a point of personal hatred for me. What's the point of celebrating being a year older? One more year spent on this shit earth. Excellent. So a betting man might assume that a celebration of hundreds of birthdays at once might be my idea of a perfect nightmare. And honestly, if you asked me a month ago, I might say the same. I was wrong.
I'll admit, there is something infectious about Angelsrun's holiday spirit. Everyone is out and about, arranging tables and chairs, setting bonfires, skinning game and/or cooking it, placing banners and other party paraphernalia. I don't know why I'm more accepting of it than when I was back on earth, but I figure it's got something to do with the villagers sincerity. It's just a community coming together to all accept and celebrate their birthdays in conjunction. To cheer on the many youngsters that were coming of age.
"Slacking already?" A hand gripped my shoulder, and for once, it wasn't Orwell. Though I wished it was.
"No ma'am." I tried to take off, but the grip became tighter, binding me in place.
"Ma'am? Do I look that old to you?" Shit. I'm dead now. Avenge me Orwell.
"N-not at all. You are in the prime of your life! No! I mean... You look... Young?" The grip became even tighter, and I prayed to all of the gods I knew to send an angel to rid me of this demon.
"Eruel, leave the boy alone would you? His sweat is staining the furniture." Granny Momo chastised her daughter. My angel has cometh! Rejoice.
The demon named Eruel hesitated for a second, before releasing her grip on my shoulder entirely. I see where Yu gets her blatant disregard for my injuries from. Her mother. Though I'm infinitely glad Yu isn't as cruel as Eruel. I don't think I could take two of them existing. Wait. Granny Momo is cruel and harsh, her daughter Eruel is cruel and harsh, does that mean Yu will grow up to be like that? Please no.
You would think that the villages head hunter would be the one to wear the pants in his household, but you would be sorely mistaken. Not that I'd ever seen them physically fight, but whatever Eruel 'suggested', was done without hesitation, and those that did hesitate, earned a glare that could rival the yellow eyed Daemon, making them swiftly regret ever not listening.
"He was staring into dead space again, mother. Orwell himself asked us to distract him if he ever gets like that." Eruel argued with her mother. Not a smart idea. If Eruel was a Demon, then Granny Momo was the Devil.
"And that makes it okay to scare the little tyke senseless, does it?" I don't think I've ever seen someone argue on equal standing to Granny Momo, I silently thanked the gods that she was batting for my team on this occasion.
"I-"
"Thats enough. I have a speech to make, and you're wasting precious time. Now come along, daughter of mine." Granny Momo cut off her daughter mid sentence, heading off towards the wooden stage that had been constructed just today. It was amazing what a community could do when they put their collective minds towards it. There was a lot of effort spent for only a day of celebration. Not that I was complaining.
Eruel gave me a swift glare before following behind her mother, taking their place on stage. I got the assumption that she somehow blamed me for her argument with her mother. Something I would pay dearly for later. Why was I always the unlucky one? God help me.
"My friends, my family, and the royal pains in my ass that make up my beautiful village of Angelsrun." Granny addressed the whole village, just in time for Orwell to usher me into a chair beside him, pulling me close to the long table that housed a number of faces I was familiar with. Rammel, Yu, Jonglir, and a number of others that I had interacted with in passing.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
"Today is a festive day, a great day indeed. And in no time, we shall make merry, reminisce, talk about our current affairs, and plan toward the future. But first, I welcome on the stage the youngsters that will come to make up the next generation of Angelsrun. Our future foundation. Please give a warm welcome to the youths that are coming of age this fine day."
The entire village erupted in applause, something I was shamefully late in joining in with, as Granny Momo announced the participants names one by one.
"Relleka, Tomir, Husote, Ganggrir, Hiyile, Yae, and last but not least, Jonglir. Please make your way up."
The youths all made for the stage, backs straight and heads held high. I suppose this ceremony was more important than I had originally thought. It was probably one of the only times they would be under the spotlight, so to say. All of the faces in the village watching them. I assume there would also be a potential marriage suitors spin on the event as well, as was common in medieval tribes and villages, though no one had spoken to me about that particular topic. Which was to be expected, I suppose. I was occupying the body of a child after all. Or perhaps it was something so integral to their culture that they assumed I already knew, though I doubted that, as I had already shown my lacklustre knowledge when it came to everyday living in this world.
The youth all presented themselves, standing shoulder to shoulder upon the stage, and looked over towards the awaiting villagers.
"To begin the ceremony, from first to last, I will now ask you your name, and your chosen profession. Beginning with you." Granny momo stalked behind the youths, ending at the start of the line, addressing a girl.
"I am Relekka, Granny momo, Daughter of Frenenik and Tunai. I wish to be a Winemaker."
"At's me girl!" Her father Frenenik shouted from the audience, a rather jolly and rotund man of the hunters squad, who had apparently already had enough to drink, if his red cheeks were anything to go by. His interruption earned an embarrased smile from his daughter, and a harsh glare from Granny Momo, the latter of which went completely over the unbeknownst hunters head.
The ceremony passed without any more interruptions, each youth eagerly stating their name and chosen vocation, and in barely any time at all, Jonglir was called upon.
"I am Jonglir. Son of Rammel and Eruel. Grandson of the Village Chief. I wish to be a hunter."
The least surprising event of the night, Jognlir's statement of wanting to become a hunter. I envied him in a way. To be so determined to follow a path, I wonder how that felt.
"And you are aware there exists a trial of combat, a necessary test, before one is appointed an apprentice hunter?" Granny Momo questioned.
"I am"
"Very well, then, so that we may swiftly proceed, I invite head hunter Rammel upon the stage, so that he may test this upstarts talent."
Rammel could be best described as a gentle giant, always careful not to inadvertently hurt anyone by carelessly swinging around his large frame, but the aura he was giving off right now was not one of a father going to welcome his son. He grabbed a table cloth, wiping away crumbs from his mouth, and stood. Tall and straight, his height easily dwarfed the majority of the villagers, and didn't lose to anyone in the hunting squad. He took a step toward the stage, and on his second, he kicked off from the ground, bounding through the air to land neatly on the impressively sturdy wooden stage, sending only a handful of splinters into the air at his arrival. Which was less than I expected.
"Understand this, son. You may be my child, and I do love you more than life itself, but I will not go easy on you today. The opposite, in fact. I will say it plainly. I do not want you to be a hunter. It is a tough, gruelling, and most of all, a dangerous job. The hunting squad has the highest rate of lethality amongst all of the jobs in this village. I have lost friends. I have lost brothers." The atmosphere became tense, and I swear I could feel the skies darken just a touch. I could feel my heart pound just a tad harder and quicker in my chest. The uncomfortable feeling of cold sweat gearing up, and I wasn't even the one this was being directed at. It reminded me of Orwell dealing with the bandits.
Am I just a coward?
"I would prefer you stay at home, take a safer vocation, get married, and give me some cute grandchildren to play with." The last sentence garnered a few subdued giggles from the audience, the majority of which coming from members of the hunting squad. Though the seriousness and severity of Rammel's tone prevented anyone else from joining in.
"That being said, it would take a fool to not understand your dedication to following my footsteps, and the footsteps of my father before me. So I will test you, Jonglir." Rammel produced two swords of equal design and size. Simple iron, yet clearly sturdy and effective. He threw one of them in an arc, of which Jonglir caught, with only minimal effort on his part. I don't think that's something I could do. A display of consumate skill in it's own right.
"To pass this test, all you have to do is cross blades with me. You do not have to win."
Rammel's declaration hushed the already silent atmosphere of the village, seeming to even quieten the bugs and wind. The type of eerie silence that is not often encountered.
"I thought you said you would not take it easy on me, father. You still take me for a child." Jonglir spat the last word. Though I couldn't tell whether he meant it as a statement or a question. not often did I interact with Jonglir, but I had never seen him this angry. What little I knew of him allowed me to understand that he was a boy that wore his heart on his sleeve. You always knew where you stood with him. An admirable personality. One I appreciated greatly.
"That is not all, Jongy." For the first time during his speech, Rammel's eyes softened, and I swore I could see a tear trail down his tanned face. It didn't last long.
"Look into my eyes son." Jonglir complied.
"I swear this upon the graves of my father, and his father before him, if you take a step forward, I will end you. Come."
He was not lying.
That was the only thing that went through my mind. He was not lying. He was not joking. He was-
A hand on my shoulder drew my attention, Orwell's concerned gaze allowing me to release a breath I didn't even know I was holding.
Was I going to see a father slay his son today?