Part Two

Sunflower

Thomas stumbled backwards, a hand coming up to rub his nose that had been squashed by the other person. He looked up to see someone that he recognized effortlessly, a person that--just that morning--he was hoping to see again soon.

“Hunter?” he asked.

“The one and only,” his friend said with a laugh.

Thomas took in the appearance of Hunter. He didn’t look much different than the last time he had seen him almost a year and half ago; time had seemingly frozen for Hunter. He still had the same mischievous glint in his hazel eyes, a look that promised that trouble was certain to come. Hunter’s sandy hair still had the same windswept look to it, the bangs long enough to hide the scar just above Hunter’s right eye. But Thomas realized that he hadn’t changed much, either, in the months they had spent without each other’s presence.

“How are you?” Thomas asked, swallowing down what he wanted to talk to Hunter about in favor of exchanging pleasantries. Now in the face of the possibility that he could ask Hunter about the soldier’s questions, he found himself not knowing how to approach the subject.

Hunter shrugged. “The same, I suppose. How about you? Still taking care of the younger kids?” He asked his last question with a hint of teasing to it, hinting at one of their inside jokes. As a person that claimed to dislike kids, he constantly commented on Thomas’ ease with the kids at the orphanage. Still, Thomas never said a word when he watched Hunter interact with the younger kids, his actions revealing that he was more comfortable with them than he let on.

“I’m okay. Yes, the younger kids still clamor around me.”

“What about your two shadows? The twins?” Hunter feigned a look like he was looking around Thomas.

Thomas shrugged. “Off troubling someone else for a change. Besides, they need to learn how to cope with me not being here in a few hours.” He smiled tightly, trying and failing to shrug off what he was leaving behind and what he was moving towards.

Hunter frowned, no doubt wondering what Thomas meant. Seemingly for the first time, he noticed the pack on Thomas’ back. “Are you going somewhere?”

Thomas shifted his posture, adjusting his hold on his pack. “Today’s my sixteenth birthday.” Even though he knew that Hunter was from Tascela and therefore not subject to the Enlistment Act, Thomas knew that Hunter was well versed in other kingdoms’ politics. When he was younger, Thomas often discussed the Act with the other boy, talking about how soldiers arrived at the orphanage to take the sixteen-year-old boys, most--if not all--being drafted on the day of their birthday. Thomas wasn’t quite sure if Aspaya was so desperate for soldiers that they couldn’t wait until after the boys’ birthdays or if it was just another show of Aspaya’s oppressive rule over Malin, eager to rip boys out of their families and homes on a day of celebration.

Just as Thomas had thought, Hunter wasn’t confused by Thomas’ response. “I would wish you a happy birthday,” he said, “but I’m afraid that would be insensitive to what’s to come.”

Thomas nodded, looking away from Hunter. He blinked away the sudden tears that prickled at the corners of his eyes. Desperate for a topic change, his mind landed immediately on what he longed to ask Hunter about. “Can I ask your opinion about something?”

Hunter blinked, curiosity quickly appearing on his face. “Of course. What is it?”

Thomas shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s a bit of a long story. Let’s go in here.” He gestured to the room that he had just left minutes ago. They both walked in, taking seats on the beds--Thomas on his own bed and Hunter on the closest bed, which happened to belong to Levi.

Even before he had even completely sat down, Hunter asked, “What is it?”

Thomas stared down at his hands, hesitant to explain what had been bothering him for days now. “There was this soldier a few days ago,” he started after a few beats of silence. He looked up to find Hunter staring at him, leaning forward slightly, his eyes alight with curiosity. “An Aspayan soldier,” Thomas corrected, laying emphasis on the nationality of the soldier. “He asked me about my name, about who my parents are, and about where my parents are from. Of course, I couldn’t answer the last two.” He chuckled slightly, trying to alleviate his uneasiness about the questions posed to him six days ago.

“Obviously,” Hunter said, not unkindly. “What else did he ask you?”

Not for the first time in his life, Thomas marveled at Hunter’s ability to know that there was more to what Thomas was saying. “He asked me if I had heard the rumors about the Aspayan Hero having a son.” He looked back at Hunter, trying to judge his friend’s reaction. He found Hunter looking away from him, a far-away look in his eyes and his mouth turned down into a frown. “Hunter? Are you okay?”

Hunter blinked, seemingly coming back to himself. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…” Hunter broke off, appearing to not have the words to explain what was bothering him. Watching him fumble for words was disconcerting for Thomas to see. Hunter was normally one to always know what to say and him being quiet now was uncharacteristic of him. It was just as unnerving as watching tears fall down Ms. Jesse’s face. Thomas stayed quiet, though, letting Hunter think before talking.

Finally, he did. “Those rumors are part of the reason why I’m here right now,” he explained. “I….It’s better if I start at the beginning.” He took a breath before asking, “Do you remember when we were younger? When we often talked about how we would like to see our family again?”

Thomas blinked. That was nothing like what he thought Hunter would ask him and seemed to be a complete subject change, having little to do with Hunter’s sudden arrival and the rumors the soldier had asked Thomas about. “Yes,” Thomas said slowly, not understanding what Hunter was getting at. “But th--”

“Do you still want to meet them?”

Again, Thomas blinked. “Where are you going with this? What does this have to do with you traveling all the way from Castle Tascela and the rumors of Mr. Wells having a son?”

“Just answer the question,” Hunter said impatiently. “Do you want to meet your family?”

A flash of dark hair, a hint of the smell of fresh bread filling Thomas’ nose, and green eyes alight with happiness. “Without a doubt, I would like to meet them. At least once in my lifetime.”

“Yes,” Thomas answered. “But what does that have to do with you being here and these rumors?”

Hunter looked down at his lap, again appearing to be unable to speak, though Thomas didn’t know the reason behind it. Was he searching for what to say? But that didn’t make much sense; as Thomas had thought a few minutes previously, Hunter always knew what to say. But Hunter had also just proved him wrong. Maybe he was floundering for words a second time? Or maybe Hunter was working up the courage to say what he was about to? But Hunter was the very definition of confidence; he knew what he wanted to say and he was indifferent to how other people would react. Still, Thomas didn’t comment on it, letting Hunter do whatever he needed to do before talking.

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And, after a few moments, talk he did. “Six days ago, a scout came to Michael’s office.” Hunter glanced at Thomas. “You remember Michael, right?”

Thomas nodded. He knew of Hunter’s mentor, an older man who Hunter had said had taken him in a few years after his parents’ deaths. Though Thomas had asked to meet the man, Hunter had always found ways to deny him. Eventually, Thomas stopped asking, but he knew who Michael was and what he meant to Hunter. His nod prompted Hunter to continue his story.

“Well, the scout carried with him news about mounting rumors about Matheson Wells looking for his son.”

Thomas blinked, realizing suddenly how Hunter’s arrival was connected with the rumors he had heard about. Still, that didn’t explain Thomas’ other questions. “I don’t understand. Why would you come all the way here to talk to me about these rumors? And why did the soldier ask me about them right after asking about my parents? And why did you ask me if I wanted to see my parents again?”

Hunter stared at Thomas, seemingly shocked at him for not understanding what he was getting at. “I thought that it would be obvious. Thomas, the son is you.”

Thomas stared at Hunter, unable to believe what he was hearing. “What?” he breathed out.

Hunter nodded. “You are actually Thomas Wells, the son of Matheson Wells, the Aspayan Hero.”

“How?” he asked, desperate for more information about his supposed father.

Hunter shifted on his seat on the bed. “Michael knew about your relation with Wells, which is why he has taken a trip here each year. All these years, Michael has kept his distance because he didn’t want you to know about your parents.”

Thomas felt his forehead crease in confusion. “Why did he not want me to know?”

Again, his friend shifted uneasily, looking away before saying quietly, “I don’t know. With the rumors growing, I think it’s getting more and more dangerous for you. I thought you deserved to know the truth, which is why I traveled all the way from Tascela.”

Thomas looked at Hunter, trying to see if he was lying or not, that it was all just a prank. Almost as if he could feel Thomas’ eyes on him, the boy in question turned to look at him, his hazel eyes staring intently at Thomas. They had lost their twinkle, speaking instead of truth, a deep pool of understanding in them. Yet below that ocean, Thomas could see sadness, a despair within Hunter born from a hope that had been unfulfilled for him. And Thomas knew, right then, that what Hunter said was true: Matheson Wells, the Aspayan Hero, had a son named Thomas Hayes, and was looking for him at that very moment.

And, just like that, excitement rushed over Thomas, chasing away any and all concerns he might have. Thomas had a father. A father that was alive. A father that was looking for him. He didn’t even remember anything about his father, not what he looked like nor what he sounded like, so it struck Thomas as ironic that he had discovered knowledge about him first before his mother, the woman from his dreams.

“Where is he?” he asked, forcing himself to stay seated and not leap off the bed with the eagerness bubbling inside of him.

Hunter shrugged. “My guess would be that he’s on his way to Castle Tascela. Aspaya took over Tascela roughly two months ago and Emperor Elliott placed Wells in charge of the power transition. He has yet to arrive, though, so he’s due to arrive any day now. And”--he looked straight into Thomas’ eyes--“there’s you, too. He’s originally from Tascela and the first place he would look for his son would be your birthplace, Tascela.”

“I’m from Tascela?” He felt a sense of wonderment when he realized where he was actually from, where he had been born, where he had lived with his parents before arriving at Ridgecrest Orphanage when he was three. It was a response to a question he had been unable to answer for over twelve years now and, now that he finally had it, he couldn’t quite believe it.

Hunter nodded in response to Thomas’ question. “Yes, you’re from Tascela.”

“I’m from Tascela,” Thomas repeated, knowing that he sounded in awe right now. Still, he couldn’t help the rush of euphoria flooding over him. Suddenly, he found himself wondering about his mother, desperately hoping that Hunter knew about her as well. “Do you know anything about my mother?”

Hunter blinked, not saying a word for a few seconds. To Thomas, it looked like he was almost guilty about something. Before Thomas could ask him what was wrong, he shook his head and then stared Thomas straight in the eye as he said, “No. I only know about your father.”

Thomas nodded, showing that he understood and accepted Hunter’s lack of knowledge. Still, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed, feeling some of his excitement about learning about his father, Matheson Wells, leak out of him as he came to the discovery that he might never learn anything about his mother, the woman from his dreams.

“Thank you,” he told Hunter, letting his sincerity be heard in his voice. When Hunter tilted his head to the side, he added, “Thank you for telling me about Matheson.”

Hunter shrugged, making it seem like it wasn’t a big deal for him to do that. To Thomas, though, it was. “It’s not a problem.” Then, he hesitated, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he said, “I can take you to Castle Tascela to meet your father if you want.”

Thomas’ eyes widened, staring at Hunter in shock. “Really?”

Hunter nodded. “Consider it a birthday present. Now, are you ready to go?” He stood up, smiling at Thomas as he did so.

He was about to stand up as well and agree when Thomas suddenly remembered what day it was and what he was supposed to be doing. Slowly, he shook his head as his hope and excitement evaporated in the face of reality.

“I can’t,” he whispered. Watching as Hunter frowned in confusion, he said, “I can’t go to Tascela. What about the Enlistment Act?”

Hunter’s frown deepened. “Thomas, this is your only chance at getting to know your father. You’re backing out now because of some stupid law, a law that I know you don’t care about?”

Thomas shifted in his spot on the bed. “It’s not that I don’t want to meet him. I would love to meet my father. But the law’s the law, Hunter, and I can’t change the fact that I have to stay here.” Hunter looked at him for a few seconds, his eyes searching his face. Before he could say anything, a voice from downstairs floated upwards from the first floor.

“Thomas!” The voice sounded like one of the children, but Thomas couldn’t tell which one of them it belonged to. “The soldiers are here asking for you!”

Thomas jumped up from the bed, alarm beginning to fill inside of him. He had thought he would have a little more time to say goodbye to the people that he had lived with for the past twelve years. He started towards the door leading out of the boys’ dormitory, but the sound of Hunter’s voice stopped him.

“It’s your decision, Thomas.” He looked behind him to find Hunter was backing away towards the window. He sounded slightly sad, almost forlorn, as if Thomas had upset him. “Just know that you’re choosing between the Empire and your family.” He opened the window, preparing to climb out of it to make it to the ground below.

“Hunter, wait!” Thomas called after him.

But he was too late. Hunter disappeared from sight, taking with him Thomas’ chances of seeing his family. Thomas froze, staring at the open window, the curtains moving as the fall breeze outside made its way inside.

“Thomas!” came the voice again. “They’re saying it’s time to go!”

Thomas continued staring at the open window, feeling indecisive about what he wanted to do. For years, he had been wanting to meet his family and his chances of doing so had just disappeared out of the second-floor window of the boys’ dormitory in Ridgecrest Orphanage. If he turned away, he would most likely never again have the opportunity to meet his father. Was it worth it to turn his back on the open window? Was it worth it to go downstairs and to follow the Aspayan soldiers away from his home for the past twelve years and towards fulfilling an emperor’s desire for world domination, a quest that would probably lead to his death, to him dying for an emperor that didn’t care for him? Was it worth it to die without ever meeting his father, knowing that he had the chance to but never acted upon it? Suddenly, Hunter’s parting words echoed in his brain.

“You’re choosing between the Empire and your family.”

And, when he put it that way, there was only one correct course of action, only one path that would lead to him being content and devoid of any regret about his life’s choices when he died, only one way that would lead to his greatest desire in life to be fulfilled.

“Thomas! The sold--” Charlie broke off quickly, staring at the empty boys’ dormitory, the only movement in the whole room belonging to the curtains hanging from the open window. “Thomas?” But no one answered him save the sound of the wind moving through the curtains, bringing a chill into the room that promised that the start of winter was not far off and causing the fourteen-year-old boy to shiver.