Part One
Snow Goose
After dropping the letters off at the couriers’ offices, Hunter hurried back up to Michael’s office, eager to know what Michael’s next steps were. Up on the fifth floor, he hurried down the hallway. However, he quickly stopped when he noticed that the door was closed. Michael always kept the door open, wanting to show that he was approachable and on hand for any problems that arose throughout the day. Even when he had meetings, the door stayed open. The only times that it was closed was when Michael wasn’t in his office or when he had a confidential meeting. And the idea of a confidential meeting intrigued Hunter, who lived for secrets and the danger they had the potential to have.
Hunter creeped forward, straining to hear if people were talking inside the office. If they were, it would mean a secret meeting was taking place in his mentor’s office. As he got closer, he started to hear two different voices, meaning that Michael was, indeed, in his office. That meant that it was a meeting about confidential matters. Hunter leaned closer to the door, listening in on the discussion happening inside of the room.
“--being of the boy?” Michael was asking.
“He’s fine,” the other person said, a voice that Hunter couldn’t place. “But rumors are growing, Michael.”
Michael sighed heavily. “I know they are, Liam, but I can’t do anything about it.”
There was a break in the conversation for a few seconds before the other person--Liam, Hunter guessed--broke it. “What if you tell Thomas?”
Here Hunter’s interest piqued even more. He knew Thomas, a boy that Michael had known before meeting Hunter. He and Thomas had been friends for a while now, though ever since Hunter had become Michael’s apprentice, he didn’t have the time to see his friend. They had united over a common background--both of them being orphans. Though Thomas knew nothing about his past besides his last name and that his parents weren’t dead, Hunter remembered quite clearly his parents and how they had died. Still, what did Thomas have to do with anything? And what was Michael hiding from both Thomas and Hunter?
“Tell him?” Michael asked. “No, I can’t do that. It’s too dangerous.”
“Advisor Wells is looking for his son, Michael,” Liam countered. Hunter’s forehead creased in confusion. Wells had a son? A son that he was looking for and a son that no one knew about? “Thomas will hear about his search and then start to wonder. Isn’t it better if you tell him than for him to figure it out himself?”
What did Thomas hearing about Wells’ search have to do with the secret Michael was keeping? What else was Hunter missing?
“No,” Michael said with finality. “It’s a family matter, one that should be discussed with his mother, not me. Once she feels that he is ready to know will be the time that Thomas will know. Until then, this matter is closed. Now, we have other matters to discuss. A lett--”
Hunter leaned away from the door, figuring that the conversation about Thomas was complete. Michael and Liam continued talking, though Hunter tuned them out as he thought about the conversation that he had just heard.
Michael knew Thomas, yet he had never introduced himself to him. Once a year, he went to Ridgecrest Fief in Malin, simply to check in on Thomas. In fact, it was on one of these trips that he met ten-year-old Hunter, offering the orphan boy a home filled with love. Needless to say, Hunter had taken him up on the offer, traveling with him back to Castle Tascela. The following year, Hunter had accompanied Michael to Ridgecrest, listening to Michael explain that Thomas was the son of an old friend of his, a friend that had decided that it would be best to leave him in the care of an orphanage. Hunter had taken one look at the small, blonde boy, only a year younger than him, and decided that they would be friends. But Michael forbade him from meeting Thomas, making Hunter ten times more interested in becoming friends with Thomas.
And become friends they did. Hunter didn’t mention Michael at all during their conversations, figuring that Michael had a good reason to keep away from Thomas, even though he was friends with one of Thomas’ parents. He never did ask how Michael knew them, though, or even what their names were. It seemed that was a mistake on Hunter’s part, as Hunter began to connect the dots.
Why would Liam talk about telling Thomas something then switch to a conversation about Wells looking for his son? And why would Thomas hearing about the search and starting to have questions be bad? And how was Michael’s secret about Thomas a family matter? And why would the secret be talked about with his mother and not his father?
There was only one answer: Matheson Wells was Thomas’ father.
Rumors about Wells having a son were growing, Liam had said, a rumor that was actually true. Wells knew about his son and was trying to find him. Michael also knew about his son and thought that not telling him would be the best sort of protection. And he didn’t want to be the bearer of that news; instead, he felt that it would be better told by the mother. A mother that the son didn’t even know.
“Coward,” Hunter whispered under his breath for the second time that day. His mentor was never one to stand up for his own beliefs, only willing to act on other people’s wishes. It was probably the reason as to why Michael never introduced himself to Thomas, content to just watch from a distance like a stalker. It was probably why he didn’t want to tell Thomas about his father, even though Thomas should know. And it was at that moment that Hunter realized that he wanted to confront Michael about it.
Thinking about the conversation that they had had earlier that morning, Hunter decided that maybe it would be better for him to think logically and not emotionally, to control his emotions to the point of considering them when arguing, but not act upon them. So he raised his hand, knocking on the door, despite the fact of how much he wanted to barge in and yell at Michael for not telling Thomas and for not telling Hunter.
The conversation happening inside the office grounded to a halt, making Hunter imagine the scene of both Liam and Michael freezing, exchanging glances as they pondered about who was at the door, wondering if their conversation had been overheard by the wrong type of people.
“Michael?” Hunter called out, letting his mentor know who was at the door.
He heard a sigh of relief before Michael replied, “Come on in.”
Hunter opened the door, finding Michael sitting at his desk, a brown-haired man sitting across from him. The man looked up, and Hunter realized that he recognized the man as one of Michael’s archers. Adding to that recognition was his gray cloak pinned together by a sunflower pin. Instead of just being the head of the flower, the pin had the stalk of the sunflower, showing that he outranked Hunter and was a full-fledged archer. The man--Liam, Hunter guessed--nodded at Hunter before standing up.
“I should take my leave now,” he said. “When do you want to leave?”
Michael frowned, taking a look around his office. “In about an hour. Meet me in the stables. Hide your pin and don’t tell anyone what we’re planning. I don’t want anyone to know that we’re leaving until we're already gone.”
“Understood, sir.” Liam unclipped his cloak, letting it drape over his arm. It effectively hid the pin from sight, making the cloak appear to be a simple, gray piece of clothing and not the officer symbol that it was. “I’ll meet you in the stables in an hour.” With that, he gave Michael a salute and left the room, leaving the door open behind him. Hunter moved towards the door, shutting it quickly.
“When were you planning on telling me?” he asked, sitting down where Liam had been mere seconds before.
Michael frowned, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. “Tell you what, exactly?”
“That Thomas is Wells’ son.”
Instead of answering Hunter’s question, Michael simply sighed. “Why am I not surprised you eavesdropped on us?” He didn’t even sound upset, more like he was exhausted by Hunter's actions.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“So it’s true?” Hunter asked. “Thomas’ father is Wells?”
“Yes,” Michael answered.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Hunter demanded. “Why did you hide this from me? From Thomas?”
“Hunter, there’s a bigger picture here that you’re not aware of.”
“Then tell me what that bigger picture is!” Hunter yelled, leaping up from the chair. Any thoughts about acting rationally and not emotionally bounded out of his head. He was only focused on what Michael didn’t trust him with and what Thomas didn’t know. “Because all there is right now is a boy desperate for any knowledge about his family, knowledge that you possess and won’t give it to him! And you say that you trust me, yet you didn’t even tell me about this, something that pertains to one of my friends and something that involves an enemy that we’ve been actively fighting for years now. What picture am I missing?”
Silence met Hunter’s shouts, a heavy and ugly sort of silence. It left Hunter breathing hard, standing over Michael, and Michael looking up at Hunter, as calm and collected as ever. The silence felt unbreakable yet fragile all at the same time, and one that Hunter was loath to break. Michael seemed to share in that, but--after a few seconds had passed with the silence stretching and swelling around them--he did break it, with words soft and small sounding after Hunter’s shouting.
“The picture that you’re missing here, Hunter, is my story. A story about a bitter, failed archer’s apprentice who promised to seek revenge against me and the kingdom who he felt had turned their backs on him. A revenge arc that actually did come to fruition, as he is now considered across the Aspayan Empire as the Aspayan Hero and his old kingdom is now a tributary to that Empire. And about a desire to take his son back, something that I will prevent with my dying breath.”
Hunter blinked, unfamiliar with everything that Michael had just told him. In the wake of his confusion and his rant, some of his anger leaked away from him. “Wells was an archer’s apprentice? To who?”
His mentor sighed, looking down at his desk. “Me,” he said softly. “Not many people are aware of this fact, but Matheson was my first apprentice.”
Again, Hunter blinked, shocked at what he was hearing. “Wait, he used to live here in Tascela Kingdom? He wanted to become a Tasclean Archer?”
Michael nodded. “He did and he was. As far as I know, he still considers Tascela his home and is still angry about failing his final exam.” Michael sighed. “Matheson is a bad person, Hunter, and I know you know that just as well as I do. There’s a reason why he is stepping forward now and searching for his son twelve years after leaving. And it’s a reason that is surely bad and something that I don’t want to know. He is a master manipulator, a well-spoken person, and skilled at making people do the things he wants them to do. Tell me, Hunter, does that sound like the sort of man who should be a father? Does that sound like the father that anyone would want? No, it is not. As such, it’s better this way. It’s better for Thomas to not know anything about his father.”
Hunter’s hands clenched. “Are you saying that his ignorance is best?”
“At this time, yes, it is. And nothing you say will change my mind. Thomas is doing well without the knowledge of his family. The best thing for us to do is to leave it alone and let him live his life in peace.” With a tone of finality, Michael stood up from his desk, beginning to walk in the direction of the door. “Pack quickly, Hunter. We leave within the hour.”
Hunter stayed inside the office as Michael left, seemingly done with the conversation. But Hunter wasn’t done with it, not just yet, as unspoken words filled his mind, desperate to be said.
Was Thomas doing well without the knowledge of his family? And was it best for them to leave him alone?
>>========> <========<<
Hunter sat down on his bed, looking over at the pack that he had just finished stuffing with everything he thought he needed. He looked out the window, realizing that he still had a half-hour before he needed to be at the stables to meet Michael and Liam. He stifled a yawn as he laid down on his bed, still drowsy from having to wake early that morning. Seconds after he closed his eyes, his body went to sleep, his brain transported to a memory from years ago.
The sun was high above the two boys, sunlight filtering through the trees surrounding them, dancing along the waters of the stream. Laughter filled the air as the larger boy sent a splash of water towards the smaller boy. The second boy got a mouthful of water, yet that didn’t stop him from laughing loudly, sending a splash back at the other boy.
At that point, an all-out splashing fight commenced, larger and larger splashes being sent from both parties. Fish swam away, scared off by the fighting taking place in their home. The fight only lasted ten minutes and ended with the blonde boy falling under the water, coming up to find the brown-haired boy laughing hard at his sopping wet self.
“It’s not funny, Hunter!” he shouted, though the corners of his mouth were lipping up and small laughs were escaping from his mouth. Hunter continued laughing as they walked out of the water, settling down on the grass beside the stream, letting the sun dry off his clothes. The other boy quickly followed, sitting down beside the larger boy. They sat that way for a while, basking in the warmth of the sun, listening to the wildlife around them. A tree branch cracked and both boys turned to watch as a mother deer and her fawn walked next to them. They were silent as they watched the two deer wade into the water, drinking from it.
“Do you ever miss them?” the blonde boy whispered as the deer continued drinking.
“Who?” Hunter asked.
“Your parents.”
Hunter blinked at the other boy before following his gaze towards the mother deer. “I suppose,” he finally replied. “I think it’s only natural for us to.”
“Mmm,” he hummed. “I wonder about where they are. What they’re doing right now, what they’re thinking, what they would say to me.”
“Well, they’re dead, right?” Hunter asked. “They’re watching up in heaven, looking down upon you.”
The other boy shook his head. “I-I don’t think they’re dead. I know that they were still alive when I arrived at Ridgecrest and I think I would know if they died in the years after. Yet I still feel them, inside of me.”
Hunter snorted. “You can’t feel your family, Thomas.”
Thomas flushed. His hand came up to touch at something hidden beneath his shirt, a common nervous habit of his that Hunter had picked up on days into their friendship. “Maybe you can’t, but I can,” he retorted. “I know they cared about me and I know that they still do. Any parent would.”
Hunter couldn’t really reply to that statement of naivety without hurting Thomas’ feelings, so he stayed quiet, letting the other boy continue talking.
“That’s why I would like to meet them again, one day.”
Hunter’s eyes flew open, Thomas’ final sentence in the dream memory rattling around in his head, desperate for him to listen to it.
“That’s why I would like to meet them again, one day.”
He could make that happen, Hunter realized. He could run away, leave Michael and the other archers and go to Ridgecrest. From there, he could tell Thomas about his father, giving him the chance to meet his father for the first time in his life. But then Michael’s words from earlier came tumbling into his mind, telling him what a terrible idea that would be.
“There’s a reason why he is stepping forward now and searching for his son twelve years after leaving. And it’s a reason that is surely bad and something that I don’t want to know.”
Michael was right; Wells looking for Thomas now after twelve years did not bode well. Besides, going to Ridgecrest would mean abandoning his post as protector for the people of Tascela, something that he had gotten angry at Michael for just that morning.
And then an idea crept into Hunter’s mind, an idea that might make him just as bad as Wells.
If Thomas met Wells, he could introduce Hunter to him. Using Thomas, Hunter could grow closer to Wells. And it could be that close proximity that would provide Hunter the perfect chance to avenge his parents’ death and get back at the man for ruining his chances to become a Tascelan Archer. He could take down the Aspayan Empire from within, saving Tascela from any future oppressment from them. It would be the best way to fulfill his oath.
But doing that would give Thomas a chance to meet a horrible person and to let him grow close to him, close enough to form a father-son relationship with Wells. Doing that would mean using Thomas, something that if Thomas discovered that he was doing, Thomas would hate him for it. And it would make him no better than Wells, a person that Michael said was a manipulator. At its heart, Hunter’s idea was manipulation. Was it truly worth it to hurt Thomas and leave his oath behind, in the hopes that doing so would mean achieving his life purpose of avenging his parents?
Memories of a burning farmhouse, of his dad’s cries of pain, of his mother holding her stomach as blood seeped through her fingers, of a man raising a sword at Hunter, and of a soldier yelling at Hunter to run as he was beaten to death filled Hunter’s mind.
They brought with them a sense that Hunter’s idea was worth it, worth every inch of him hurting Thomas and of his oath breaking. As Hunter stood up from his bed, grabbing the pack beside him, he decided that he would act upon his idea, leaving Michael and the other archers and heading for Ridgecrest instead. He would use Thomas to get Wells to trust him and, from there, avenge everyone the Empire had ever hurt or killed, including his parents. It didn’t matter that he would manipulate Thomas. It didn’t even matter that he was breaking his oath to protect the people of Tascela if, in the end, his plan would involve taking down the Empire and protecting the lives of the people of Tascela.
After all, the end justified the means.