The next morning, when Milo opened his eyes, he came face to face with Milanko. The older brother had fallen asleep on the side of Milo’s bed after talking to him some more about his adventures at sea. Milo had fallen asleep while listening to them, although he wished he had heard the end. Milo awkwardly got out of his bed. He took a cover from his bed and wrapped around his shoulder as a shawl, before putting on his hay filled clogs. He walked out of the room as quietly as possible, before he walked downstairs. His mother was awake. She was sitting at the table, her hot herbal tea in front of her and a new bandage on her wounded hand. She had put the bread on the table with a knife next to it.

“Hello Milo,” she greeted him with a tired voice.

“Hi mom,” Milo answered as he hugged her before he sat on a chair next to her.

Milo only saw her face for a second, but he could see how her eye bags had deepened. She probably hadn’t slept at all the night before.

“You can go to town with Milanko today, I’ll take care of the children.”

Milo stopped himself as he cut a piece of bread.

“You sure? Is it going to be okay if you’re alone for this?”

“Milo,” she said seriously, “I used to do this while you were a child, I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” he replied, not convinced by her look.

Milo knew his mother was capable of many things, many more than he probably could do, but the worry he felt trumped everything. Milo prepared himself a blend of rosemary and thyme for his breakfast. His mother had gotten the young plants from a friend and now had grown quite large around their house. Milo carefully poured the hot water over the herbs and waited patiently for the few minutes of brewing to pass.

“Mornin’,”

Milo turned around to see a still sleepy Milanko, his sailing clothes still on, and rubbing his eyes as he walked down the stairs. Their mother sighed.

“I was too tired,”

“Then take a rag and go clean yourself. Change your clothes too, there should be some clean ones in your room. Give the old ones to me so I can clean them today,”

“Mom, I’ll be gone by tomorrow, they’ll never be dry in time,”

“The sooner you give them to me, the sooner they’ll be dry,” she quickly responded.

Milanko sighed and turned around to obey his mother. Milo and his mother finished their breakfasts in silence, each looking at the emptiness in front of them, like a lot of mornings were. Vesna stood up quickly and washed the dishes from the night before. Milo looked at his mother’s silent form, absorbed by the dishes. The teenager cleaned up the table, leaving some things out for Milanko to eat, and climbed upstairs to dress himself for the day. As he prepared himself, he kept looking up, doing everything by touch. He'd rather feel stupid doing this than fall down another spiral. Once he put on his loose sailor-like blouse, his calf-length pants, and his worn-out shoes, he approached a little table on which was set up a very polished piece of copper that he used as a mirror. He put on his small iron hoop earrings a friend of the family had gifted him for his 15th birthday, and walked out the door. In the corridor, he could hear the sounds of water splashing. Milanko was still washing the grime and dirt off of his body. Milo stopped in his tracks for a moment, but resumed his walking. He had a day off today. It didn’t happen often, so he had to make the most of it. Playing with the neighbor’s children was fun, but it often took more energy from him than he would have liked it to. The tree would be the perfect place to rest, he thought to himself. His favorite tree to climb and sit in for hours, he hadn’t been there in a long time. As soon as he got out of the door, Milo ran. He ran behind the line of houses, still close to his house but far enough so that the clamor of the city didn’t bother him much. That’s where it stood, his favorite alder tree. Most of the branches were too thin to sit on, but, if climbed on, they led the way to a specific branch that was much thicker and sturdier than the others. Milo rolled up his sleeves and carefully climbed his way up to that specific branch. He sat on it as comfortably as he could and rested his back on the trunk. He observed the nest of robins that had found its home in the higher and much thinner branches of the alder tree. Their singing floated on the gentle breeze up to his ear. If he hadn’t been so lost in the scenery, Milo would’ve sworn a barely audible song was also in that same breeze. He knew no one in town played music. Merchants and travelers were too busy or hammered to sing or play any type of music so early in the morning. He sat there for a little while, closing his eyes and letting himself feel the gentle morning breeze on his face. He let his body relax as much as he could without falling down from the tree.

“Thought I’d find you here,”

Milo looked down. Milanko was standing there, his hand covering his eyes from the early lights of the day, his hair still wet from washing.

“Can I join you?”

Milo nodded. Milanko climbed up, angling his tall body in manners that made Milo chuckle.

“I swear, this used to be much easier back then,” he said, grunting from the effort.

After a minute or two of awkward climbing, Milanko finally sat down on a secure branch next to Milo.

“Remember the first time I showed you that tree?”

“I don’t think so.” Milo answered.

“It’s okay, I didn’t think you would. I was around your age and mom was so worried that you would break something that we had to trick her for us to come here.” he chuckled, “To be honest, I think she was also worried about the new dress she had made for you.”

Milo chuckled, but not without a slight weight in his stomach. To an extent, he still felt guilty. His mother could have had the perfect family, a husband, a son, and a daughter. But he had thrown all of it away. Milo lifted his head up as he felt Milanko’s hand on it, stroking his hair.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You did something very brave the day you came out, you know?” he smiled, “Mom and I couldn’t be more proud.”

“But-”

“But what? Life never fits to expectations, Mom knows it better than anybody else. I said it to you then and I’ll say it to you again; I don’t care what you are, I only care that you’re happy.”

Milo’s eyes filled up with tears, and his heart swelled up. Milanko always knew what to say whenever he was sad. Milanko hugged his little brother, and without warning, squeezed him as hard as he could.

“What was that for?” asked Milo, trying to get his breath back.

“Squeezing all that sadness out of you.” Milanko answered with a very serious tone. “Now, how about we go to the market? I bet we’ll see a bunch of weird stuff,”

Milo nodded. Milanko helped his little brother out of his tree and together, they walked to the town’s market. As they walked toward it, Milo’s worry grew with the clamor of the town. Every time Milanko came back, he dreaded the moment he went away. What if he never came back? What if he came back but a piece of him was missing? Like last time? Milo shook his head and forced himself to not think about it. Everything would be fine, more than fine. Milanko would come back and he’d be fine.

“Are you alright young man?”

Milo lifted his eyes to the old man talking to him. He had a mustache and stubbles over his cheeks, fine lines his old eyes and his aching back made him bend forward. The smell of fresh bread took Milo out of his confusion.

“I am, M. Saroyan, I am.” he said as he flashed a smile to the old man

“Well, you better be because I just made fresh bread, and if you’re lying, you won’t get any.”

“I am, I swear,” Milo replied in a softer tone.

The old man squinted for a minute before turning around and grabbing the bread, giving it to Milo.

“Thank you, how much are they?” asked Milanko as he searched around his belt for his purse.

“It’s free this time around,” said the old man, “I wouldn’t make someone like you pay for anything in my shop.”

“Thank you so much!”

“We’re all struggling here and you keep the bad guys at bay, so it’s the least I can do.”

Milo and his brother thanked the old man one more time before walking away and biting into their warm bread.

“Be careful, mom says that eating it too fast will hurt your stomach.”

Milanko looked at Milo, his mouth full of half of the bread he had received, he swallowed it hard and shot Milo a sorry smile. They walked around the busy market for a little more time, trying to guess which language they heard was or trying to guess who came from where based on their clothing. People coming from either the north, south and east were pretty recognizable because of their race or their clothing that looked disconnected to the actual weather, either being too light or too warm. People from the north had more purplish and blue skins, especially the goblins. Some trolls accompanying them had the weirdest white eyes and could often be heard complaining about not seeing anything when the clouds blocked the sun. People from the east had more embellished clothing and often stayed in groups. Most often than not, they had long pointy ears and looked astonished by the products being sold on the market. People from the south had redder and darker skin. They had tattoos or scales covering their bodies and most often had the biggest muscles Milo had ever seen. They could be seen talking about constructing or selling their knowledge about houses and water works.

“I haven’t had this much fun in months.” commented Milanko as he sat down on a small guardrail that followed the edge of the port.

Milo looked at the last of his piece of bread, worried.

“I’m scared too, you know?”

Milo lifted his head toward his brother, he was trying to hide his fear but couldn’t hold it in anymore, like the dam he had built had finally broken.

“That ship hasn’t felt like home since dad-” he stopped himself, as if mentioning him would break the two of them. The memories from the ship anchored away from the shore for months and the soldiers wailing in their illness’ pain flashed across his mind. “The guys are nice but they’re just coworkers, barely friends. There’s no one to really talk to when I’m out there.” Milanko shot a longing glance at the busy market. “If I could stay here and work in the market, I would, but the ship still gives me more money than they get.”

“I could work too, you know.”

Milanko glanced at Milo.

“You’re barely 15 Milo, you have so much more in front of you than I do. You could be a rich merchant, a famous cook, or even-” Milanko stopped himself again, “you could be a wonderful healer. I heard there’s one that heals people without magic, she’s famous everywhere the ship has sailed.” he looked deep into his brother’s eyes, “Don’t waste your life trying to please others, do it for you okay? We’ll be fine where we are.”

Milo nodded, worry still weighing on him. His brother took him into his arms. Not the death-grip hug from earlier but a genuine warm embrace. One that Milo wished would last so much longer.

“Let’s go home okay? It’s getting late, mom is about to be worried.”

Milanko stood up from the guardrail and stretched his hand toward Milo. He helped him get back up from it, and, together; they walked back to the house. Their mother was letting the last of the children go, a pair of young twins, with golden braided hair and still a few sticks stuck to it, probably put there during their day of fun. A man had given both of his hands to them and they were boringly listening to their father talk with Vesna.

“Thank you so much Vesna, I don’t how I would’ve done it without you today, Agnes was so sick today that I had to watch over her.”

“It’s normal Morris, I hope she’s getting better. And the girls were a dream to watch over.” the girls giggled. “I heard that there’s a healer near the town, Agnes could come see her.”

“When she’ll be able to walk again, maybe.” the man looked sorry for a moment, “Do you mind if I bring you some of my wheat? I don’t get enough on the market nowadays and-”

“Wheat is perfect Morris, it’ll feed us more than copper.”

Morris let out a laugh of relief and said goodbye to Vesna before going away. As she saw her gb sons, she flashed a bright smile and put her hands on her hips.

“How was the market?”

“M.Saroyan gave us fresh bread,” answered Milanko.

“Good! I’ll bring him something tomorrow to thank him.”

Milanko and Milo followed their mother inside the house, chatting about their day. Vesna talked about how rowdy the children were while Milanko and Milo helped her prepare dinner. For a moment, nothing was on their minds. They just talked heartedly about their day. The air was light and everything felt right. Only as they sat down to eat did the fear of tomorrow come back. Vesna’s heart sank as she observed her older son’s face. She dreaded seeing him go early in the morning. She knew she would not sleep until the next night, leaving Milo to take care of the children most of the day, whilst she used her knitting to rest herself. Truth was, she worried most of the days Milanko was away from her. If it had been a normal carpenter job in town, she wouldn’t be, but on a ship, away for months at a time and fighting against the Order? So many things could go wrong for him, and so many others had already. Worry kept eating at her as her boys helped her clean up and went to sleep. She thought about begging Milanko one last time to not go back to the Loyal, but she didn’t. Even if he stayed, they would arrest him for deserting, and she wouldn’t risk that for him, not in the state he came back in. For a moment, she berated herself for even trying to hold him back the night before.

Vesna stayed up all night, sitting in the kitchen, thinking, crying, and sobbing silently, trying to not wake up her sons.