Part Four:

Phoenix

“Merry Christmas,” Michael said as Hunter walked into his office.

“Merry Christmas,” Hunter said sleepily, still half-asleep.

Michael laughed as he saw Hunter’s sleepy facial expression. “Kids around the kingdom right now are waking up their parents, impatient to see what Father Christmas has brought them. Yet here you are, barely awake.”

Hunter smiled. “I’ve learned long ago that Papá Noel isn’t real. Besides, I’m not a child anymore. I turned sixteen at the beginning of the month.”

Michael acknowledged Hunter’s words with a slight nod of his head. “True, but in my head you’re still that ten-year-old boy I met in Malin six years ago.”

Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “Sometimes I still feel that young and lost.” He shook his head, clearing the old memories. “I got this for you.” Hunter placed the wrapped object in his pocket on Michael’s desk. It was small, barely worth a thing, but he knew that Michael would like it.

Michael unwrapped it, revealing a simple pine wreath. He smiled as he looked at it, then looked up at Hunter. “Thanks, Hunter.” Michael stood up, walking over to the corner of his office where a small Christmas tree stood. He placed the wreath on the ground beside the tree. “I’ll hang it up later. For now, though, this is for you.” Michael turned back to his desk, opening up one of the desk drawers. Michael took out a small box, with a yellow ribbon around it. He handed it to Hunter who took it almost gingerly. Was it what he thought it was?

He opened up the box, revealing a small, silver sunflower head. Hunter traced a finger over the intricate details, feeling indescribable emotions rising up in him. The dream he had had for six years was actually coming true. And once he achieved that dream, he would use it to help him in his broader dream, the dream of avenging his parents. Hunter looked up, seeing Michael’s soft expression as he saw Hunter’s reaction to his gift.

“Go ahead,” Michael nodded. “Put it on.”

Doing as Michael had instructed, Hunter took out the pin, unclasping it and pinning it to the collar of his shirt. Almost as soon as it was on, Hunter felt a sense of completeness wash over him, like for all of his life, he was missing a part of himself. This was what he wanted to do with his life. This was what he was made to do.

Michael smiled at him, then stood up straight. Copying him, Hunter straightened his posture.

“To honor the start of your apprenticeship, there is a small little ceremony.” Suddenly, Hunter felt excitement creep over him. “It usually involves three people: the senior archer, the new mentor, and the new apprentice. As I fill both the roles of the senior archer and the new mentor, our ceremony is just going to have two people in it. The first thing is for the apprentice to receive the sunflower, which I just handed to you. Do you know the symbology behind the pin?”

Hunter nodded. “A sunflower to show the recipient is an officer of Tascela and the head shows the rank, which is apprentice, the lowest rank. The silver is to show which branch, archer in this case.”

Michael nodded. “Very good. The sunflower has been the national symbol of Tascela Kingdom since its formation over a hundred years ago. It symbolizes the long life the kingdom has experienced and the loyalty Tascelans have to their kingdom. It also represents the perfect Tascelan citizen, a person who is happy, honest, optimistic, and devoted to keeping the peace of their kingdom. As you wear it, you become an embodiment of those traits and you carry with you everything that sunflower symbolizes. Do you, Hunter Wright, swear to be loyal to the kingdom of Tascela as long as you live?”

Hunter stared straight into Michael’s eyes, lifting his chin up as he did. “I do.”

“Do you swear to keep the kingdom of Tascela running for as long as you live, so that it might continue long after you are dead?”

Keeping eye contact with Michael, he said, “I do.”

“Do you swear to devote your entire life to keeping the peace within Tascela Kingdom?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Hunter Wright, swear to carry with you the traits of a perfect Tascelan, staying happy in the midst of despair, staying honest to yourself and to your kingdom in a world filled with lies, and staying optimistic in the face of hopelessness?”

“I do.”

“Then I, as the senior archer of Tascela, accept you within our ranks. Welcome, Hunter Wright, Tascelan Archers’ newest apprentice.” Michael beamed at Hunter, who smiled right back. “Next, I would ask the mentor a few questions, but, as it’s me, I’ll skip that step. Do you accept me, Michael Johnson, as your mentor?”

Hunter nodded. “I do. I can think of no other person I would rather have as my mentor.”

For a second, Hunter thought that he saw Michael’s eyes become watery, but Michael blinked rapidly. By the time he stopped blinking, his eyes were back to normal. “And I accept you, Hunter Wright. Your apprenticeship starts first thing tomorrow morning.”

This time, it was Hunter who had to blink away the happy tears forming in his eyes. “Thank you, sir.”

Michael smiled. “No, thank you, Hunter. I wish you luck with your apprenticeship, though I’m certain you won’t need it.”

Hunter smiled cheekily. “I wish you luck in dealing with me. I can be quite the troublemaker.”

Michael chuckled. “That I know, that I know. Now, off with you. Go have a Christmas morning breakfast.”

“Do you want anything?” Hunter asked.

Michael shook his head. “I’ll be down in a little bit. I have a wreath to hang.”

Hunter smiled as he glanced at the wreath in the corner. “Merry Christmas again, Michael.”

“Merry Christmas.” Hunter walked out the door, but before he could walk out fully, Michael was calling after him. “Oh, and Hunter?”

“Yes?” Hunter paused in the doorway, looking questioningly back at his new mentor.

“Congrats. I know you’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

Hunter smiled. “Thank you again. It means a lot to me and I hope to make you, and my parents, proud. I will dedicate myself to your teachings and, hopefully, you will accept me into the ranks of the Archers as a full-fledged archer in four years.”

Michael shook his head. “You don’t have to make your parents proud, Hunter. They already are. And you sure as hell don’t have to make me proud. God knows I already am. As far as the archers go, try your best and you shouldn’t have any issues.” He paused for a second, then added, almost as an after-thought, “Just do me a favor and keep your oath in mind. And basic morals. With those three things as your focal point during your apprenticeship--hard work, your oath, and a good moral compass--you shouldn’t have any problems. Now, go. The snowstorm from yesterday has let up and, if I know as well as I think I do, you will want to catch hypothermia by going out there.”

Hunter laughed. “You know me far too well, Michael. Adios.”

“Adios,” Michael said with a smile.

And, with that, Hunter left him. He walked down the hall, a hand still playing with his new officer pin. A smile was on his lips, a smile that refused to disappear. He was a Tascelan Archer. Well, only an apprentice, but that didn’t matter to him. And by God, he would not let anything lead to his dismissal from the group, nor would he fail at achieving archer status. He could keep up with Michael’s learning--he already knew some stuff as he had hung around Michael for the past six years--and he knew that he could easily keep the three things Michael had told him about in his mind. Four years from now, Hunter would become an archer, and, with his promotion, begin the final step in his life’s goal: the destruction of the Aspayan Empire.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

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Hunter woke up with a start, a hand flying to his left collar where his sunflower was always pinned to.

Only to be met with nothing.

Confused, he looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a cell in the dungeon, cold, damp stone all around him. There were no windows, the only light coming from a dying torch in the room. In the corner was a small bed that looked extremely uncomfortable. He stood up from his spot on the ground, moving towards the door. He tried to open it, but unsurprisingly, it was locked.

He blinked, trying to remember the series of events that had led to this moment. As he ran his hands through his hair, he winced as he touched a sore spot. He lightly pressed at it, bringing his hand down to find dried blood.

Like a flash, it hit him all at once.

“Hunter Wright, you are under arrest for threatening a member of the Tascelan Court. You are under arrest for attacking a son of a member of the Tascelan Court.” Then, Matheson glanced at the silver sunflower pin on Hunter’s collar. “And you are under arrest for breaking the Archer Act. As such, you are accused of treason against the Aspayan Empire and are to be hanged for your crimes after a trial before the Tascelan Court.”

“Take his officer pin,” Wells told one of the guards.

“No!” Hunter shouted, fighting against the people holding him once again as a guard stepped forward and unpinned the sunflower and handed it to Wells. “That’s mine!”

Wells shook his head as he stared at the pin in his hand. “This is a symbol of a Tascelan officer, Wright, a position you no longer have.” Then, he tossed the metal pin into the fireplace in the back of the room. Hunter gasped, staring at it as the fire consumed it.

“Throw him in the dungeons,” Wells said.

As the guards put handcuffs on him, Hunter screamed at the man, trying to get the guards off of him. “You’re a murderer! You killed my parents! You took everything from me!” Then, noticing Thomas eyes’ trained on him, he added, “And you’re a horrible father! You hit your son! Thomas, get away from him! You ha--”

Just then, one of the guards covered Hunter’s mouth with his hand, preventing Hunter from speaking. He fought against the guards even more, causing more guards to hold his arms as they tried to drag him out of the room.

He heard one of the guards sigh, saying, “Knock him out.”

Another guard raised their sword, bringing its hilt down on Hunter’s head. And the world around Hunter turned black as unconsciousness claimed him.

“Oh, God.” He stumbled back, grabbing at his hair in his hands, twisting at it. “What did I do?”

He had told Thomas what he had been trying to do, about his revenge plan that hinged on betraying him, on using his relationship with his father. He had let his friend become close with an abusive father, thus enabling Thomas to experience his father hitting him. And Thomas had twisted his view of reality to the point where he thought it was normal for that to happen, not realizing how bad it was until Hunter had pointed it out to him. Furthermore, Hunter had been deadset on killing his friend’s father, which no doubt deepened the rift that had formed between them.

Hunter had also failed his oath. He was far from honest, telling lie after lie to everyone around him. Braya had even pointed it out to him the night he had left to go to the castle and Thomas had said that his continuous lies made him unable to be trusted. He was only loyal to his dream of revenge, not to his friends nor, more importantly, to his kingdom. Hunter had gone to Wells’ suite to kill the man because of his own plans of revenge, not to keep his oath.

Michael had always told him that his emotions and his rashness would be the death of him, but he never thought that they actually would. He had let his anger get the best of him, dictating everything he had done this morning. Hell, his anger over his parents’ death had taken hold of him long before he had even become Michael’s apprentice and he had let that lead to his decision to abandon the other archers as they went to Eskil, to not tell Thomas about his mother, and to take him to Castle Tascela to take down the Empire. That had been his motivating force for years upon years now and it had led to the destruction of everything he held dear.

It led to Michael’s death.

It led to Thomas and Braya being hurt by him, whether it be his actions, words, or both.

It led to his oldest friend being hurt by his father.

It even led to his arrest and, eventually, his hanging.

“I deserve this,” Hunter whispered. He could feel himself falling to the ground, the rough stone cutting him as he did so, but he found it hard to care as the weight of the consequences of what he had done hit him with the full force of a summer storm.

He did deserve this.

He deserved to have his sunflower pin taken from him, thrown into a fire.

He deserved to have Thomas, his oldest friend, hate him for what he had done.

He deserved to have lost the budding friendship with Braya.

He deserved to be in a cell, deserved to be hung for his crimes.

He deserved all of it.

He never should’ve gone to Ridgecrest. He should’ve stayed with Michael and Liam, going with them to Eskil. If he had, Michael would still be alive. Thomas would have never met his father. Hunter himself wouldn’t be in a cell, waiting to be killed.

Or even if he hadn’t listened to Michael and gone to Ridgecrest, he should’ve kept Michael’s dying promise. And if he hadn’t kept his promise, then he should’ve entrusted his plan to Braya back in the forest like she had wanted him to do.

Now, though, everything had turned to ashes. Everything he had, everything that he was, had been thrown into a fire, right alongside his sunflower pin.

If he didn’t have his silver officer pin anymore, then who was he?

If he failed to avenge his parents, then what was driving him anymore?

If he didn’t have his parents, his mentor, or even his friend, then he was completely alone in this world.

And if all that was true, then what was the point of living anymore? Wells should just come in now and kill him right here. In a way, Hunter almost wanted him to, wanted to take him out of this world, away from all of the reminders of how he had failed everyone around him, away from the emotions filling inside of him.

Hunter let out a small laugh, trying to ground himself in the overwhelming thoughts in his head. He had never wanted to die before. Sure, he had often welcomed it when he found himself at the wrong end of a blade before, but he hadn’t desired it, not like this. Now, though, it seemed rather alluring.

If he died, he could be with Michael again. He could be with Mama and Papa and even be able to thank the soldier who had given up his life in order to save Hunter’s. They would tell him that they were proud of him, that they loved him, th--

No, they wouldn’t, a little voice inside of Hunter’s head said. They would hate you for what you did, just like Thomas does.

Hunter froze, staring hard at the ground in front of him. They would, they absolutely would.

There was no way his parents and Michael would be proud of him after everything that he had done. If he joined them in the afterlife, they would be furious with him. They would’ve never wanted him to do this and would certainly make that one clear to him. And they sure as hell wouldn’t love him if they were still here. If he died here now, after everything he had done, he would be just as alone in the afterlife as he was here.

Hunter felt a tear creep down his cheek. With it, more came down, until he was sobbing on the cold stone of the dungeon cell in Castle Tascela.

Everyone hated him, just as they should after what he did. He deserved to die, deserved to want to die, and deserved to be all alone, whether that was here on Esmaya or in the afterlife. Everything happening was all his fault and he deserved every bit of the consequences coming his way.

His thoughts and emotions overwhelmed him, overtaking him. Once, years ago, he had taken a trip with Michael to Trillium Province. They had taken a ship from the mainland of Tascela over to the islands. Halfway to their destination, they had been hit by a strong summer storm. In a way, he felt that he was back on that little ship in the middle of the storm, waves crashing over him.

The waves were ones of grief, of his failure, of the situation he was in. And just like that ship, he was all alone in the sea, alone with the waves, the wind, and the rain. The waves were washing overboard and he couldn’t keep up with bailing the water out. They were going to sink him, going to drag him to the deep, deep depths of the sea surrounding Esmaya.

And he wanted to allow the sea to claim him.

Down there, there was no one to be disappointed in him and his actions. There was no one to fail, no one to hate him, to be hurt by him. Nothing mattered, whether it be the people he lost, the sunflower pin that was taken from him, or the failure to his county and to his oath.

And so he gave into the waves, letting it take over him completely, dragging him down in the depths of his sorrow.

There was nothing, not anymore.

There was no Michael or oath to have failed. No parents to turn their backs on his despicable actions. No Thomas to hurt or to watch his father hurt him. Nor was there even a Hunter Wright.

No, there was simply nothing.

And, in a way, it was quite freeing to let go of reality and to give into the overwhelming thoughts.