《Ranger Of Albion》 Chapter I – In which I give a brief history lesson Chapter I ¨C In which I give a brief history lesson My story is entwined with that of the Rebel War. Readers aware of the history of Albion will easily realize the importance of the period, but even so, I have decided to include a summary of my circumstances and how it relates to everything. I was born as Edward Deiramund , a full-blooded noble (descended from the steward of Anosurais), son of Count Rupert Deiramund, Lord of Granhurst and Deirmoor, Knight-Cavalier of the Order of the Birch; and Lydia Granhurst, Priestess of the Gentle Flame. My happy childhood ended with the death of my mother, at the tender age of six. My father sent me away to live with my aunt, so I would be looked after properly. He visited often, but didn¡¯t stay for long. He blamed himself, and the guilt cast a deep shadow over our meetings. It is evident to me now, but back then, I was still unable to see it. For me, it seemed like I had lost both my parents. My miserable self lived in Gwynheid manor, a house in the middle of nowhere. It was five miles to the nearest town of Livington, and two from the edge of Gwynheid forest. I had free run of the place. Aunt Ethel saw me once a day, at breakfast, after which I was free to do whatever I pleased. It was bewildering at first, but I soon got used to it all. I read books, swung a sword, rode horses, chased geese, hunted rabbits¡­ all the things children do. I was enchanted by the knightly tales of loyalty and chivalry, the history of King Ambrosius, his great deeds, and all the things that he accomplished. I thought of the time when I would be of age, when I would meet my father again, myself at court, knighthood, the valour of battle¡­ I would dream of it all, and sought to prepare myself. Those were the blissful days. War broke out in 1450, when I was thirteen years old. Everyone now knows what happened, but back then, my knowledge was lacking. All that I knew was that there was a rebellion against the king. Father sent a letter in Aurelius, stating that he wouldn¡¯t visit this year. Seven months later, all the able bodied men were also being called to fight. Although I wished to go, Aunt Ethel didn¡¯t allow me (I hid in the cart, but they found me and brought me back). The men left the household; James and Sean, the two butlers, Roarke, the stable boy. I remember being envious of him. A few months later, teacher Derek quit as well. There were only four people left by 1452 ¨C Aunt Ethel, her maid Gilda, our cook Sheena, and me. An overbearing silence descended upon the halls. The war continued. Although none of us showed it, we all were worried. But all we could was to wait. *** It was 3rd of Julius, a warm, sunny day. I was resting under a tree, having spent the morning climbing trees, searching for eggs. The manor was well within my sights, and so was the road that led to it. Therefore, I was the first to see Jacob riding his cart leisurely towards the gates. Jacob Armitage was the old verderer that lived in the forest. Most of my excursions outside were together with him. He had taught me how to hunt, fish, and even the basics of the sword. The man brought supplies from the town twice a week, and was basically our contact to the outside world. ¡°I hope you have some venison.¡± I said to him. ¡°Aunt Ethel won¡¯t be happy to see you otherwise.¡± ¡°No venison this time, Master Edward.¡± He gave a weak smile. ¡°Though I do have news.¡± ¡°How fares the battle?¡± I asked. He shook his head. ¡°Let¡¯s go inside first.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. I had a premonition of what he might have to say. ¡°How bad is it?¡± He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. ¡°The worst imaginable.¡± And then he would say no more. *** We were admitted into the study after a while. Aunt Ethel sat by the table, her face highlighted by the lamp upon it. Gilda, her maid, fidgeted nervously by the corner. I flopped down at my usual spot at the door. Jacob stood in the middle, uncomfortable by the attention. ¡°The riders came last Erthday.¡± He said. ¡°I was in the pub when they were drinking.¡± He shifted slightly. ¡°They seemed drunk, so I didn¡¯t think it true. But more of them came in yesterday, saying the same thing -¡± ¡°What is it?¡± Aunt Ethel. ¡°There was a grievous battle at Naseby.¡± He said after a while. ¡°The King and his compatriots were defeated.¡± ¡°Impossible!¡± I cried out. ¡°It is true, Master Edward.¡± He said. ¡°The war is over. We have lost.¡± ¡°Grace light our paths!¡± Aunt Ethel muttered under her breath. For a second, she seemed to sag under the strain, almost collapsing in her chair, but the moment passed, and then she was whole. ¡°Glinda!¡± Her harsh voice shook everyone in the room. ¡°Bring the brandy from the cellar. I suspect we all need something strong today.¡± She said. ¡°Go on, girl!¡± Glinda shakingly rose and went outside. We heard Sheena¡¯s shriek a minute later. I stared into the flickering light and thought of those who had left to fight. I remember Robin boasting how he would return as a famous knight. Somehow, I knew that wasn¡¯t possible anymore. *** ¡°What shall we do now?¡± I asked Aunt Ethel. We were all sitting in the main hall, the fire blazing in the hearth, though it offered little comfort. I and Aunt were the closest to the flames. The others were seated at a distance, talking and crying in hushed tones. The crackling fire seemed to made their words indistinct. ¡°Have you felt anything?¡± Aunt asked after a long while. Her tired face was half covered in shadows. ¡°Any sort of change within you?¡± It took me some time to realize the meaning behind her words. My grasp upon the cup tightened as I did. ¡°Father is alive.¡± I replied as softly as she had asked. ¡°If I awakened, you would be the first to know.¡± ¡°I am glad to hear that.¡± She smiled softly. ¡°So we have to wait.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t just sit around!¡± ¡°We have to.¡± She said. ¡°We do not know anything about what will happen. Until we get word from your father, we continue as usual.¡± She sighed. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else we can do. I hope you¡¯re old enough to understand that.¡± ¡°I do.¡± I said. ¡°Yes.¡± She said. She sighed again. ¡°You¡¯ll be a fine man one day, Edward. But right now, I need you to be patient. Don¡¯t act rashly. Can you promise me that?¡± Could I? In my mind, I thought of riding to the King¡¯s rescue, charging with my men, the banners of Deiramund flying high in the air, noble and unbroken. The desire to do my duty, to serve the country and our King was too great. But she was right. If I went out now, I would most likely fail. There were so many things that I didn¡¯t know. Even so, what if this my chance? Could I really pass it by? ¡°Edward?¡± Her voice was stern. ¡°Promise me.¡± ¡°My father fought his first battle when he was thirteen.¡± I said. ¡°I am fifteen now.¡± ¡°You do not know to fight, Edward.¡± She said. ¡°And you alone cannot change anything whatsoever.¡± ¡°The courage to act at the right time makes all the difference. What if this my moment? What if this is the Light¡¯s way of showing me my path?¡± ¡°It is not, Edward.¡± She said. ¡°Your father asked of me that I keep you safe until you¡¯re of age. And I swore to goddess that I would. Do you understand what that means?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not fair.¡± ¡°Please, Edward. Listen to me, just this once.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± I said. ¡°But as soon as I turn sixteen, I am leaving, with or without my father.¡± Having made my declaration, I left the room. I slept little that night, or the followings night thereafter. There were a lot of emotions swirling within me; anxiety, for the fate of my father; anger, at the rebels; hope, at how I could change things; despair, that events were beyond my power; sadness and denial, rage and envy, everything mixed with everything else. I made plans of what I had to do. Return to our holdings, gather news, raise the banner, fight for the King¡­ the details were vague, but I was certain I could accomplish it all. My belief in myself was unshakeable. The news trickled in, some good, others bad. The King hadn¡¯t been captured, but most of his staunchest supporters had surrendered. There were still a few pockets of resistance, but they were expected to fall soon. Everyone was fighting, and I was forced to stay away, safe in my corner of Albion. Until the day the war arrived on our doorstep. *** Chapter II – In which I get a scolding Chapter II ¨C In which I get a scolding Hunting had become my new pastime. I already knew how to ride, and I had practiced every move from the one swordsmanship manual that I possessed. Honestly, there was nothing else for me to learn. So every Starday, me and Jacob come to the forest, and he would teach me his ways. Right now, we were sitting uncomfortably cramped amongst the bushes, with a perfect view of the watering hole and the deer drinking from it. ¡°Do you see it?¡± Jacob asked me. I nodded. ¡°Very well, Master Edward. You know what to do.¡± Ever so slowly, I reached for my arrow, making sure the deer was still within my sights. But I had barely placed the arrow upon the bow before it looked up and darted away. ¡°What -¡± I began to ask, but Jacob placed a hand over my mouth, and shoved me into the thicket. ¡°Be silent.¡± The alarm on his face was enough to convince me. I heard the horses thundering, growing louder every second, and within a few moments the riders came into view. They stopped in front of me; twenty or more so soldiers, but I didn¡¯t recognize their colours. Jacob¡¯s hand clamped down upon mine. I could see his pleading face out of the corner of my eyes. And then I realized. ¡°Well, look at that, would you? I guess you were right after all, Redrin.¡± One of the men spoke up. ¡°Saddle down and wash them quick, gentlemen. The work of the Light remains to be done.¡± The others dismounted at his command. ¡°So you were born here, Redrin?¡± The captain and one other walked off to the side, closer to where we hid. I could see them clearly through the brambles; a powerfully built, bearded man, and a fairer one next to him. The uniforms were black and gold, with the sun emblazoned upon their chests. ¡°Born and brought up in the forest itself. My father was a verderer.¡± The other man spoke. ¡°I know all the roads and watering holes, as well as the hidden trails and places.¡± For a moment, he seemed to glance our way, but then his attention was diverted. ¡°That¡¯s very well. Now I want you to think very carefully; is there a place where that Malignant Charles could be hiding? If we can find him¡­¡± ¡°Captain, there is only one I can think of. A manor, belonging to Count Deiramund. He was loyal to the end, and it can easily hide twice the number of troops we have. If the malignants hiding, it has to be there.¡± I felt my heart thumping, about to burst, and the blood rushing throughout my veins. My heartbeat reverberated in my ears; it was so loud that I was amazed no one else could hear it. ¡°We¡¯ll pay them a visit after dark.¡± The captain said. ¡°Charles can be anywhere during the day, but he¡¯ll be desperate for a proper roof to sleep under at night.¡± ¡°We still can¡¯t be sure, Captain. I have searched the houses of many malignants, and all of them are full of abominable hiding places that are impossible to discover.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll discover them.¡± The Captain snapped. ¡°If the man is there, I¡¯ll flush him out, one way or another.¡± Then he turned back. ¡°Break¡¯s over, men! Equalists, to horse!¡± All of them were very efficient; they mounted rapidly at his command, and within a minute they had already ridden away. We emerged from the bushes after a while. The excitement within me subsided, and suddenly I felt drained. What did they mean by Malignant? Why did they call themselves Equalists? Although they had spoken several strange words, their dark intentions were clear to me. They were the rebels searching for the King, and they planned to raid my home. ¡°What time is it?¡± I asked. ¡°A little after noon, Master Edward.¡± Jacob reply was grim. ¡°We¡¯ll have to hurry.¡± *** ¡°And that¡¯s what happened.¡± I explained to my Aunt. The sunlight lazily streamed through the windows and onto wall, reaching higher every minute. ¡°We have to leave at once!¡± She smiled faintly at my words. ¡°And where are we to go, Edward?¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. I couldn¡¯t grasp her intention behind the question. ¡°To Livington, of course.¡± ¡°If it is as you say, the town must be where they are camped.¡± ¡°To the North then. We¡¯ll cross the border.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a three day ride, and I am an old woman.¡± She said. ¡°They are looking for the King. Anybody trying to flee is at greater risk than the ones at home.¡± I sat down as I thought over her words. ¡°What shall we do then?¡± ¡°I stay here.¡± ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll barricade the doors and windows -¡± ¡°Edward, please.¡± She cut me off. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°I am saying that there is nothing to be done. We let those soldiers search the house -¡± ¡°WHAT?¡± ¡°- cooperate with their requests, and they¡¯ll leave us alone after they are done.¡± ¡°Have you gone insane?¡± I finally said. ¡°My father -¡± ¡°Your father isn¡¯t here!¡± She shouted at me. ¡°The war is lost! There¡¯s nothing to be done! Why can¡¯t you understand that?¡± ¡°My father¡¯s still out there, fighting!¡± I shouted back. ¡°And you want me to welcome enemies into our home? I¡¯ll die before I let that happen!¡± ¡°You stupid child!¡± Her voice cracked, and she started coughing. I rushed forward, and for a while the argument was forgotten. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I said, after I handed her the water. ¡°I just¡­ feel so useless, you know?¡± She raised her eyebrows at me. ¡°And what about me?¡± She asked. I didn¡¯t know how to explain it to her, so I kept silent. ¡°I know you feel helpless. I feel it too. But right now, you¡¯ll have to endure this.¡± She said. ¡°I have endured for ten years.¡± The words were hard to say, but I said them. ¡°I am supposed to be a lord of Deirmoor. I can¡¯t even remember the place. I was supposed to be a squire when I turned thirteen. I¡¯m fifteen now, and I haven¡¯t even seen a real knight. My king needed me...¡± My voice stuck for a moment. ¡°... and I did nothing. I...¡± ¡°No, Edward,¡± She caressed my face. ¡°Don¡¯t be so hard on yourself. Your time will come.¡± Her eyes met mine, and I saw hers were wet too. ¡°I said it, didn¡¯t I? You¡¯ll be a fine knight one day. You just need to have patience.¡± I nodded. I couldn¡¯t trust myself to speak and not break into tears. Fortunately for me, Jacob entered at the moment, and spared me the embarrassment. ¡°Your luggage is packed, Master Edward.¡± He spoke as he walked in. ¡°Ready to leave?¡± ¡°He¡¯s ready.¡± Aunt Ethel answered in my stead. ¡°Edward, you¡¯ll be spending tonight at the Armitage home.¡± ¡°What? And leave you alone with those ruffians? Never!¡± ¡°Alright young man, I¡¯d have enough of your shouting. I have asked Mr. Armitage to bring over a few men from the village. Those ruffians may force the pantry and drink all the ale, they¡¯ll dare not harm me. You, however, are a different matter.¡± ¡°But -¡± ¡°Enough, Edward. Don¡¯t delay the matter any further.¡± She rose from her chair and clapped my shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow morning. Listen to Jacob in the meantime. And I don¡¯t want to hear another word out of you.¡± I, of course, protested, and my protests fell on deaf ears. I left home feeling frustrated, and remained frustrated throughout the entire journey. I was so engrossed that I didn¡¯t even see the path Jacob took, but suddenly we stopped, and then he was telling me to get off. As soon as I did he left, after promising to be back by sundown. So there I stood, absolutely clueless in the middle of the forest, looking at the cottage placed perfectly in the midst of the trees, the sunlight streaming through the branches, the leaves fluttering away in the wind. It¡¯s one of the moments in time that remains stuck in my head to this day. The interiors were clean, neat and compact. The sitting room adjoined the kitchen, and there was a spacious hearth and chimney, table, stool, cupboards and drawers; three small bedrooms, upon one where I placed my luggage and continued to explore. There was a large maple tree in the backyard; a stall, shed, and a pigsty, all crudely contructed. There was also an enclosed yard, well-fenced, for vegetables, I guessed. Smoker, the dog came running after a while. Jacob had brought him once on a hunt. ¡°Nice to see you too, boy.¡± I scratched his back, and he rolled over a few times in excitement. There were a few more animals; few fowls and pigs, and an old sad looking cow. Jacob was true to his word, and returned back in time. We spoke little. I was moody the entire evening, and he didn¡¯t talk either. ¡°I¡¯ll afraid the food won¡¯t be good as you¡¯re used to.¡± He said. ¡°I am a poor cook.¡± ¡°Anything you make will be fine, Jacob.¡± I said. ¡°Alright, Master Edward.¡± And then he went about his task in front of me, cutting up the potatoes, fetching the pail, that I started to feel slothful simply sitting there. ¡°Here,¡± I said. ¡°Let me do something.¡± ¡°Oh -¡± ¡°Please. It¡¯ll help me keep my mind off things.¡± I said. He relented, and I was given the task of cutting up the onions. I performed admirably, although the onions kept rolling away, and I often had to wipe my eyes. But we were still not done. The venison was carefully cut, and the pot set to boil. Everything was swept, the tables cleared, the plates set and knives placed out. Then we waited for the cooking to be done, after which the hearth was made tidy. The pot was taken off, and then we waited for it cool. Finally I got to eat it. ¡°It¡¯s delicious.¡± I said. And it was. I ate more that night than usual, and we emptied the whole pot. The food was so good I forgot about the reason I was there, until it came back when I went to bed. Was my aunt alright? Had the soldiers left by now? Sleep evaded me. I tried, but it just wouldn¡¯t happen. Eventually, I gave up. I sat for a few minutes in the dark, before I decided to take a walk outside and clear my head. The stars twinkling overheard, and heard the trees whispering in the dark, and it made me feel better. But then I saw it. A orange hue that coloured the horizon, and thick smoke rising in the air. *** Chapter III - In which I make mashed potatoes Chapter III - In which I make mashed potatoes My eyes were open, but mind lagged behind. Sunlight streamed upon my face from an open window. I was laying upon a bed. And had a terrible headache. Perhaps that¡¯s why it was hard to think. They burned my home. It snapped me awake. I tried to rise, but my body wouldn¡¯t respond. I opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was rough and parched. Everything hurt. Where was I? ¡°It¡¯s alright, Master Edward.¡± Jacob¡¯s weathered face appeared in view. ¡°I am here.¡± He reassured me. ¡°Waa¡­¡± I tried to speak, but was only able to wheeze. The air burned my throat. ¡°Water, yes.¡± He lifted the pitcher above my head, and I drank greedily, sputtering at the end. Even breathing was a challenge. ¡°What¡­ happen¡­¡± Somehow, I finally managed to say the words. But Jacob wouldn¡¯t answer. I glared at him, but he refused to meet my eyes. A few minutes passed before I had the energy to ask again. ¡°What¡­ happened?¡± There was this strange mix of sorrow and pity on his face that was sickening to watch. But he still wouldn¡¯t say anything. ¡°What happened?¡± Why did I ask him when I already knew? Because a small part of me still denied everything. It was a dream. Everyone was still alive. My home hadn¡¯t burned down. I hadn¡¯t madly rushed into the flames. It was all a lie. But I needed him to say it. So why didn¡¯t he speak? ¡°Jacob.¡± I said. ¡°I am so sorry, Master Edward.¡± He burst into tears. And then it all turned to black. *** Memories were muddied water, sinking and rising as they pleased. I was sick. They burned it all. I couldn¡¯t taste anything. Did she suffer? My skin flaked and fell off. They shut the doors and lit the flames and watched them scream. I couldn¡¯t keep the food down. Nothing left but ashes. I was going to die. Just like the rest of them. Sleep was the only time I felt at peace. The nightmares came when I was awake. They stared at me, the skin burning off their bones, the heat so terrible that I had to turn away. I couldn¡¯t bear it. Darkness and light. You need to be patient, Edward. Her warm hands would embrace me. You¡¯ll soon be here with us. And everything would burn, burn and burn. I honestly would have died if he wasn¡¯t for Jacob. Everytime I opened my eyes, he would be fussing over me. I am certain I told him I was ready to die, but he wouldn¡¯t listen to me. He remained by my side at all times, propping me up when it was time to eat, sticking the spoon in my mouth, lifting me up like a ragdoll, flipping me over to changing clothes... Eventually, I started to recover. The fever receded, the burns subsided, and I could finally move all limbs. Everything still hurt, but at least now I could eat on my own instead of being treated like a baby. ¡°It¡¯s delicious.¡± Jacob, who was looking at me expectantly, gave a sigh of relief as he slumped into his chair. ¡°You don¡¯t have to repeat the question everyday, you know. It¡¯s the same thing you made yesterday, and all the days before that.¡± I took another sip of the stew. ¡°I added some extra carrots today, so that¡¯s why I...¡± ¡°I see.¡± I said. ¡°Thanks, Jacob.¡± He watched me sip it slowly for the better part of an hour. I kept the bowl upon the table after I was finished. Then I took the blanket off, except that that I was slower than I snail and every muscle in my body seemed to ache from the effort¡­ and there he was, holding me up.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°I can walk by myself!¡± I said, my frustration increasing because I actually couldn¡¯t. ¡°Unhand me!¡± He didn¡¯t, of course, although I am sure he was tempted. I acted like a petulant child nearly every day, but Jacob never lost his cool. I spoke very little during that time. My mind was a maelstrom of emotions, breaking and joining as it pleased. It was tiresome, having a constant war in my own head. Over time, I grew numb. Sometimes, I could function a hour or two without thinking of all that had happened. Other times, I would sit in my chair, and let the questions wreck me over. Could I have prevented it? Shouldn¡¯t I have died with them? Why did it have to happen? What would I do now? Was there anything left for me? A variety of answers resounded in mind every day, but I didn¡¯t have the strength to accept them. The innate belief of good and righteousness within me had shattered, and I couldn¡¯t seem to put it back together. A purposeless, aimless husk, I simply existed, unable to face my future. *** It was eerie, standing in the middle of the clearing where the manor had been. The ground was charred, and I would stumble upon something unrecognizable every few minutes. A table leg, a broken knob, a shard of glass; odd little pieces in the middle of nowhere. I remembered myself, rushing through the burning doors, screaming through the smoke¡­ and now there was nothing. Everything was gone. I doubted if I would even recognize the place after a month. ¡°The fire burned it all. Lasted for a whole day, actually.¡± Jacob said. ¡°Then there were the scavengers, looking for loot in the rubble. I¡¯m sorry, Master Edward, but I don¡¯t think you will find what you¡¯re looking for.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t looking for anything,¡± I explained. ¡°I just needed to see it with own eyes again. Did they¡­ what happened to their bodies?¡± I kept calm. ¡°We buried them all in the temple yard, sire. Held a funeral and everything. You were sick, so that¡¯s why I didn¡¯t tell you.¡± ¡°Right, right.¡± I nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s go on then.¡± He walked back, but I had a difficult time leaving. We sat down, and went off in silence, nothing but the steady roll of the cart to break the monotony. It was unbearable, so I spoke up. ¡°I was searching for a keepsake.¡± I said. ¡°I thought I¡¯d find something to remember her by.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± He said. ¡°I don¡¯t why I thought of it. I mean, it¡¯s not like I would forget her, but...¡± ¡°She asked me to pack a few books.¡± He said. ¡°We have them at the cottage.¡± The cart tumbled on while I thought how to respond to his sudden revelation. ¡°Thank you, Jacob. For everything.¡± It wasn¡¯t enough to convey the depth of gratitude that I felt, but it was all that I could say in the moment. ¡°Your welcome, Master Edward.¡± He turned towards me and smiled, and I knew he understood it anyway. *** I had never quite realized it before, but potatoes were quite versatile ingredients. Almost everything we had potatoes in it. At present, I was watching them boil, after which they would be mashed and eaten with the gravy. ¡°The King¡¯s cause is lost for now, and I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s raising an army.¡± Jacob said to me. ¡°There¡¯s nothing you can do now, Master Edward.¡± ¡°I know.¡± I watched the bubbles rise and pop apart. It was strangely mesmerizing. ¡°I¡¯ll stay here until the right time arrives, or word from my father. Whichever is sooner.¡± The water grew turbid. ¡°I¡¯ll be patient.¡± ¡°Master Edward, if you don¡¯t think -¡± He began hesistangingly, but I didn¡¯t let him finish. ¡°¡±No, you¡¯re right, Jacob.¡± He had been talking about the subject for a few weeks now. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, but if this is what I must do, I¡¯ll do it.¡± Steam began to rise from the pot, and I quickly snatched it away. ¡°Now enough of this. Did you cut the carrots yet?¡± I asked. Jacob heeded my request, and turned the conversation towards idle matters. I had accepted the idea, but I had also been avoiding thinking about it. I didn¡¯t quite realize it at that time, but I was afraid. My mind was a fragile place those days - I could conjure about a thousand fears if I thought about anything for too long. There was this constant feeling of unfathomable dread at the back of my mind; a undefeatable thought that wouldn¡¯t stop screaming about everything was going to go wrong and how it would all be my fault. The only time it lessened was when I focused on something else; like peeling the skin of these smooth, soft potatoes. So I distracted myself. Ran away from the future and mashed those potatoes. ¡°What else do I have to do?¡± What else I could do? ¡°I think we¡¯re all done, Master Edward.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll set the plates then.¡± Dinner was ready, and we sat around the table. Time. I was depending on time to save me, to show me the way. I wasn¡¯t ready to face my fears, so I would delay the meeting. A coward¡¯s way perhaps, but it was all that I had. ¡°Wait.¡± He said. ¡°Do you hear that?¡± I did. Men riding horses, who then dismounted. Boots upon the soil, and then the knock on the door. It was happening again. ¡°I¡¯m Captain Berliz of the New Army, and I command you to open this door!¡± Chapter IV - In which I act stupidly Chapter IV - In which I act stupidly ¡°One moment, please!¡± Jacob cried out. ¡°Master Edward, they don¡¯t know anything! Just go along with what I say, and it¡¯ll be fine!¡± He urgently whispered. I could only nod my head stupidly. Blood rushed through my body, yet I felt chills all over. My thoughts kept interrupting one another; I was paralyzed by indecision, frozen in place. Jacob opened the door slightly and peeked out. ¡°Hullo! So what¡¯s this all about?¡± He cheerfully asked. ¡°Well, forester, you must know that the malignant Charles has escaped from battle. There¡¯s a bounty of a thousand crowns for him; dead or alive. Now we know he¡¯s not in there, but¡­ we¡¯ll like to take a little look-see, if you don¡¯t mind?¡± There was a upward tilt at the end, as if he actually meant it as a question. ¡°Oh no, nothing to mind.¡± Jacob replied easily. ¡°Come right in, Captain.¡± He opened the door, and three men walked right in. ¡°Looks like we are interrupting -¡± The leader was blond, hair neatly trimmed, a blazing smile on his lips; a darker skinned man followed, expressionless; and a timid looking man whose eyes constantly darted around. They wore the same uniform; a sun on a black tunic. But I didn¡¯t recognize him. I didn¡¯t recognize any of them. Were they amongst the men I had overheard that day? Or had they arrived afterwards? They didn¡¯t look like murderers. Or were killers supposed to look this human? They might have murdered my family, but I couldn¡¯t tell. I couldn¡¯t do anything. ¡°- And why is the boy staring at me like that?¡± The Captain pointed towards me. Was I staring? I realized I was. My hands had balled up, and I was sweating all over. And I didn¡¯t know what I looked like, but it sure wasn¡¯t friendly. ¡°That¡¯s my - that¡¯s my grandson.¡± Jacob forcefully interrupted. I had to support him, I had to say something! ¡°YES! He Is My GRANDFATHER!¡± Oh no. Everyone stopped moving. There was no salvaging this. Jacob was the one who broke the silence. ¡°Yes. Forgive me, but...¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°He¡¯s a bit slow in the head.¡± He whispered, but it was audible to everyone in the room. Everyone¡¯s eyes fall upon me, now seeing me in a entirely different light. I myself was looking towards my grandfather, who had covered his eyes and turned away. I wished I could do the same. Wasn¡¯t there anything else he could have said? ¡°Oh? Oh!¡± The Captain whispered back at a equal volume, and patted his shoulders. ¡°Sorry for that.¡± He then focused towards me. ¡°WHAT¡¯S YOUR NAME, BOY?¡± Now, while the greater part of my brain was quite unable to comprehend whatsoever about this bizarre sequence of events, there was still some sense and reasoning left. And it was telling me that there was no way out of this situation but forward. ¡°MY NAME IS ROBIN!¡± With no choice left, I shouted back. Jacob gave me a small nod of acknowledgement, and then looked away. The Captain beamed insincerely at me, as if a dog had performed a particularly neat trick. ¡°There¡¯s nobody here, sir.¡± The dark skinned man spoke. The timid looking man was looking right at me. What did he suspect? I looked at my plate, and continued pretending to be retarded. ¡°Well, not that we expected anyone. We¡¯ll be -¡± Someone growled. We looked around for the source, but found nothing. Smoker was outside, so - And then it happened again. ¡°Simons, what in the Goddess¡¯s name are you doing?¡± The Captain had identified the source of the sound, and it seemed to be the timid looking person. The third time happened while I was looking at him - and it originated from his stomach. ¡°I am extremely sorry, sir. But, I was- I am - just feeling hungry-ry, sir.¡± He hung his head. ¡°When¡¯s the last time you ate?¡± The Captain was suddenly brisk. ¡°Yesterday afternoon.¡± The other man replied. ¡°Daniel, you don¡¯t have to answer. Wait - you haven¡¯t eaten too?¡± ¡°Inn ran out of food, sir. We¡¯re living off biscuits.¡± ¡°What? No! No, this is unacceptable! You all have to be - ¡± His tirade was cut off when Simon¡¯s stomach growled again. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll have words with the quartermaster when we get back.¡± He sighed. ¡°In the meantime,¡± He turned towards Jacob again. ¡°- I¡¯ll have to ask you to spare a bit of your dinner. I¡¯ll compensate you, of course. I hope that¡¯s not a problem.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°No, no, not at all.¡± Jacob shrugged loosely, though I could see him sweating. ¡°You better thank Jacob here, alright?¡± The Captain ordered the other two. They duly did so, and within a minute the extra chairs and plates were set, and we all were cramped around the small table. Jacob and I were seated on one side, and the three on the other. ¡°That smells nice!¡± The Captain took off the lid. Simon served the food, and to my surprise, it was all divided equally. We were ready to eat. ¡°Wait!¡± The Captain suddenly motioned. ¡°We haven¡¯t said Grace yet.¡± He joined his hands, and the other two immediately followed. ¡°Oh Goddess,¡± He intoned. ¡°Oh Goddess,¡± The other two repeated. They looked towards us. ¡°Oh Goddess,¡± Jacob said. Then he nudged me with his foot. ¡°Oh GodDESS!¡± I began normally, but then remembered I was supposed to be stupid. The Captain smiled beatifically when I said the words, and then continued onwards. ¡°Blessed be thy food and gifts, which strengthen and nourish us, for thou are holy and we are your servants.¡± He said. And then he said all the rest together. How did he expect a stupid person to keep up? Wait - was he testing me? Should I say it perfectly? I was supposed to be slow, wasn¡¯t I? If I said it perfectly, would it arouse suspicions? Or would it be more suspicious if I didn¡¯t? ¡°Blessed be thy food and gifts, which strengthen and nourish us, for thou are holy and we are your servants.¡± The others repeated, and it was my turn. How should I say it? Ultimately, I decided that while I might pretend to be stupid, I wasn¡¯t going to pretend to be that stupid. So I shouted out the words, all correctly and in order, making sure to sound stupid as possible. It was harder than I thought it would be. ¡°Amen.¡± The Captain finally said. ¡°Amen.¡± We all dutifully repeated. Finally, we could eat. But even that wasn¡¯t the end of it. ¡°This is really delicious. How do you cook so well?¡± ¡°It¡¯s mostly because of the fresh vegetables, sir.¡± ¡°No, you definitely cook well. If it were me, I¡¯d burn the broth.¡± An awkward laughter followed the revelation, followed by silence. It didn¡¯t last. ¡°Where¡¯s your family?¡± ¡°They are dead, sir.¡± Jacob replied blandly. ¡°It¡¯s just me and my grandson, here.¡± ¡°Ah, you have my condolences.¡± He paused. ¡°Although, can¡¯t say I don¡¯t envy you a little. Families are...¡± He scraped the bowl, thinking it over. ¡°I was too religious for her, apparently. As if someone can be too devout?¡± The question was rhetorical, as he didn¡¯t stop speaking. ¡°Should¡¯ve known it then. No, I had to find her with -¡± Simon coughed. His rant interrupted, the Captain looked around sheepishly. An even more awkward silence descended upon us. But the man had recovered his spirits by the end of the dinner. ¡°Now that, was a feast!¡± He leaned back in his chair, face content. Everyone else, including his soldiers, looked equally haggard. ¡°I daresay, forester, I think you eat better than any King!¡± He belched, and looked around triumphantly, as if it proved his point. ¡°YOU ARE A LUCKY BOY!¡± He shouted at me. ¡°NO MATTER ANYONE ELSE SAYS, YOU TOO HAVE BEEN BLESSED, ALRIGHT? ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT!¡± ¡°I WILL!¡± What else could I say to that? But that was enough, as the Captain gave me another smile. ¡°Sir, I think, we should be on our way now.¡± Simon said, no longer timid after eating his fill. ¡°Simon, I¡¯m trying to give some advice here, alright?¡± Simon nodded, but the Captain saw it differently. ¡°What? You think he doesn¡¯t understand me? He does. They¡¯re far more smarter than you know.¡± He placed his hands on the table, daring anyone to challenge the statement; and folded it back when none was given. ¡°We had a retard in our town too.¡± He began again. ¡°He was a rat-catcher named Tren. Best in town. Everyday he would bring in tails of all the rats he killed and get paid. People got suspicious after a month or so, and decided to investigate.¡± He paused. ¡°Found out that he was breeding rats himself, cutting the tails, and bringing them for payment. So that¡¯s why you shouldn¡¯t underestimate people like Robin here.¡± He looked around the table, mistook our tired faces for interest, and carried on speaking. ¡°They beat him pretty badly after that though. It¡¯s a pretty serious business; you have to kill the rats, otherwise they¡¯ll spread the plague. It¡¯s just like the Malignants, you know?¡± What? ¡°People giving us grief for burning down that manor around here. They should be thanking us. We¡¯re removing the blight from this world! What?¡± Jacob had risen up from his chair. ¡°There were other people in that house, sir. Honest, hardworking folk of the town. None of them deserved to die.¡± I don¡¯t how Jacob managed to keep his voice even, but he did. I was looking down upon the plate, hoping no one was paying attention, failing to keep my emotions in check. ¡°You don¡¯t understand, forester.¡± The man continued to speak, and my hands clenched at his words. ¡°The people who support the Malignants - they¡¯re the diseased. You have to exterminate the rats, and you have to exterminate those infected as well. Otherwise the plague will spread.¡± He paused. ¡°Don¡¯t you agree?¡± ¡°It¡¯s hard to see it that way.¡± Jacob started putting the plates away. ¡°But I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not one of them, are you?¡± The voice was slow; measured. The room was quiet - I could hear myself breathing; feel an anxious knot form in my chest. ¡°I don¡¯t concern much about the wider world, sir.¡± Jacob replied unhurriedly, his back turned to us all. ¡°Would you hide the so-called King, or any other Malignant in your house?¡± The Captain rose from his chair, and the others followed suit. Jacob placed his hands upon the table, and faced them. ¡°There¡¯s only me and grandson in this home, and that¡¯s the way it will remain. Is there anything else you would like to ask?¡± The short silence that lasted felt longer than it should have. The air was charged, heavy with tension. Everyone knew something was going to happen. We were all waiting blindly; readying for whatever came next, even if we had no idea what it was. ¡°No.¡± The Captain suddenly said. ¡°That would be all.¡± He placed down a few coins. ¡°Let¡¯s go, lads. Nothing else to do here.¡± They exited, and rode away. I waited. ¡°They¡¯re gone, Master Edward.¡± Jacob said after a while. I nodded, unable to speak; everything within me had tightened to the point of breaking. The relief, the rage, the denial, the shame, the grief¡­ they were all tangled up within me. So I sat in that chair, and unwound myself. And in the end, only a single thread remained. A singular purpose, forged from everything inside of me. ¡°I am going to kill them, Jacob.¡± I said. ¡°When the time comes, I will kill them all.¡± *** Chapter V - In which I learn new tricks Chapter V - In which I learn new tricks I lined the body with the axe. The man was looking up at me - the fear and despair clear upon his face. I lifted my hands and brought the axe down. It buried itself into the chopping block, splitting the log open. I picked up the pieces and placed them into the pile. ¡°You don¡¯t have to lift your arms that high.¡± Jacob called out. ¡°Splitting wood is about using the axe, not your strength.¡± I lifted the axe free and placed another piece on the block. A taunting, defiant face appeared in front of me. I brought it down. ¡°Too much strength.¡± I threw the pieces into the pile. Another log, another face. The axe cut it all open. ¡°Still too much.¡± A log, a face, and a swing. ¡°Again, too much.¡± A log, a face, and another swing. ¡°Too much.¡± A log, face, and swing. A log, face, and swing. A log, face, and swing. Log, face and swing. Log, face and swing. Log, face and swing. Log, face, swing. Log, face, swing. Log, face, swing. Log, face and - The axe buried itself partway. I shifted it free and swung again. ¡°Why¡­ does it matter?¡± I asked him. ¡°The blocks... are being cut, aren¡¯t they?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll tire out faster.¡± He said. ¡°You¡¯re already out of breath.¡± I placed the axe and swept the sweat from my forehead. ¡°I am¡­ unused to this, that¡¯s all.¡± Jacob held out his arm. ¡°Give that to me for a while, will you?¡± I handed it to him, and stood aside. He placed the log, and looked at me. ¡°Watch.¡± The axe went barely above his chest - a slow curve that gradually went faster and gradually disappeared into the wood. He brought it up again in one swift motion. Clean and simple, which I suppose was the point of it. ¡°Did you see it?¡± He asked. ¡°You must have a lot of practice.¡± I said. ¡°I did. But I also learned the right way of doing it.¡± His face was strangely expressionless. ¡°Why don¡¯t we stop for a while?¡± He placed the axe aside and walked away. ¡°¡±Jacob, what¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°It¡¯ nothing¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°I was just feeling tired, that¡¯s all.¡± He looked at me for a long while, but said nothing. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. He sat down by the porch, and beckoned me over. ¡°Before all this, I could easily live alone, Robin.¡± We had agreed to use the alias, in order to get used to the idea. ¡°But now¡­ without the money from your aunt, and feeding two people...¡± ¡°I am here, aren¡¯t I?¡± I asked. ¡°Anything you want me to do, I¡¯ll do it. So what¡¯s the problem?¡± ¡°The thing is¡­ ¡± He took a deep breath, looked at me, and then paused. ¡°Hmmm...¡± He nodded to himself. ¡°No, you¡¯re right¡­. It¡¯s not a problem.¡± He smiled at me and dusted off his pants. ¡°All we need to do is work hard.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± I rose beside him. ¡°So, what do we do now?¡± *** The answer to the question, if I am being entirely honest, was not to my liking. It involved farming tools I had never seen before (a shovel?), some kind of special dirt (manure?) and me getting really, really¡­ well, dirty. ¡°I kind of feel sick, Jacob.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just the soil, Robin. And I think you missed a spot over there.¡± It was misery personified. Standing in the middle of a field, with the blistering sun upon your back, and simply digging away - there was no task more pointless. My body felt heavy; I could barely hold on to the shovel. ¡°Jacob, I need a break!¡± ¡°You just had one.¡± He handed me the water. ¡°Come on, here.¡± I tried to drink, but most of it missed the mouth and went down. Not that it helped. Everything was still blurry. ¡°Time to get on with it, then.¡± I handed the water pail and got back to work. Everything ached when I woke up. It felt being roasted over a slow fire - a painful burn that flared up whenever I moved. ¡°Jacob, I don¡¯t think I can till the fields today.¡± Jacob was looking down at me, concerned. ¡°You just fainted, Robin.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± I had an idea of what awaited me now, and how woefully naive I had been. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d let me sleep until tomorrow?¡± *** Jacob didn¡¯t let me rest that day, or any of the days thereafter. I would labour all day, eat, fall down on the bed and rise to do more of the same. I don¡¯t think I ever slept - I remember closing my eyes and it would be dawn the next second. I didn¡¯t want to wake up, but I had to. I lost my temper several times - but Jacob would give me a sort of disappointed, judgemental look, say that he was sorry, I would feel guilty and apologize, he would apologize, and we would return back to routine. The pain was constant, although it took many forms. Some days my body would ache all over. Sometimes it would be a sudden shocking jolt that would leave me wailing on the ground. Maybe it would be a deep, unrelenting tiredness. But of course, I had to get up and get to work. There was always something to be done, and obviously, I had to be the one to do it. In the morning, I had to go to the spring to fetch the water to fill the big tank. That would take me about fifteen trips - carrying the small bucket back and forth until it was done. The water would be boiled, breakfast would be prepared, and I would eat and dread the drudgery that awaited me. After breakfast, I had to check after the animals. Smoker needed water and food. Dreun needed hay and water, and sometimes you need to caress his mane if he was particularly fidgety. It was usually because the stable was dirty - which I had to clean up, of course. After him it was Nessun, the cow¡¯s turn - who had to patted, fed, and milked, all without taking care not to spook her - if that happened, I had to calm her down by whispering in her ears. Then I had to take her outside and tie to a tree so she could graze. After which point I would have to check if the stall was dirty - and clean it if it was. Last of all came the dreadful chickens. Monsters, each and every one of them. They had no names, but I learned to identify them soon enough. There was a stupid one - who would squawk like hell every time I approached to get the eggs. There was a gluttonous one - who would push all the others away to gorge on the feed by himself. There was a evil one - who would pretend to run away after I set it free, stop at a distance, and run away again when I chased it. And finally, there was the rooster - the one who would sit upon the perch and judge my every action. Every time I made a mistake, he would knock his head back and contemptuously crow at me. I hated that chicken, and I¡¯ll be honest - I savoured every bite when I finally got to eat him. After the creatures were taken care of, it was time for archery practice. First, it was hitting the targets at a distance. Ten arrows, hundred and fifty yards. Then I had to remove the arrows from the target, go back, and do it again for fifty yards. Then I had to remove the arrows from the target, go back, and do it again for hundred and sixty yards. The distance would keep on increasing until I missed all ten - after which I had to go search where the arrows had landed for next day¡¯s practice. Next was preparing wood for the winter. In the early days, all I had to do was split the smaller logs into kindling sizes. I became quite proficient at the task; Jacob upon noticing this, decided that it meant I was eager to do more. Now I had to pare down the whole trunk and prune the branches. When I succeeded at that as well, he added cutting down trees and bringing them back to the list of tasks. I cut so much that we ended up fixing the house, made two new buckets, created two wheelbarrows, and even built a new shed (for storing the wood). We might have done more, but we ran out of nails. And I wasted quite a few of those learning carpentry. Then it would be midday, and we¡¯d have lunch, take a break¡­ and then get back to work. Afternoon was the most strenuous activity in the beginning - I nearly fainted once or twice. But it became a quite a lot easier when the seeds were planted; all I had to do was water the fields evenly. That should have been the end of my work, but there would always be a chore or the other that I had take care of that dragged my time out. By evening, I would have bathed, and returned to home, and collapsed by the chair. We¡¯d talk a little - perhaps read a book, but most of the days I would just try to stay awake till dinner ( Jacob spared me from that, thankfully). Then I would sleep, and do it all over again. That was the life I lead the first two months I came to the cottage. A busy one, with no time to think. I realized much later that it had to be completely intentional on his part. I was impatient and angry, eager for violence and vengeance. But without the time to brood over such thoughts, it gradually sunk to the depths of my mind and settled down there. *** Chapter VI - In which I go outside Chapter VI - In which I go outside The word forest is said to have been derived from the old Frankish word forestis, meaning wood in their language. Gradually, it came to represent any wooded area. Most people, when they hear the word, imagine it similarly - a place with a lot of trees, a haven of wild beasts and monsters. And while that is what the word forest represents, it not the entirety of it. A diligent scholar will know that the origins of the forest is older than the Franks. Forestis itself is derived from the old Auraldic word faras, which meant the other side, or more generally, outside. Outside the confines of one''s home, or a village, or the town, but ultimately civilization itself - existed the forest. Wild and untamed, uncaring and unfettered, alien and alive. Nature was beyond us, in every sense of the word. I remember the day when the seeds of realization were planted in my head. Jacob and I had gone hunting, and we decided to stop in front of a oak tree. It was a majestic sight; the hugely wide trunk, the long, serpentine branches, and the sun dappling through the canopy of trees. A great, vague yearning arose within my heart as I stood there and grasped it - our insignificant, transient existence - the sheer, impossible chance that made this instant possible - and the immeasurable beauty of it all. Then the moment passed, the yearning faded, and I was once again a boy standing in front of a gigantic tree. ¡°Robin, look over here.¡± Jacob beckoned me over. ¡°See those yellow flowers?¡± I did see them, and duly acknowledged it. It was time for another lesson. I took out the notebook and readied the charcoal. ¡°I''m listening.¡± ¡°That''s coltsfoot; so called because of the shape of its leaves. It grows throughout the year, flowers in the spring, and withers in the summer. ¡± He spoke without pause, and I struggled to keep up. ¡°It''s good for clearing the lungs and the throat. Crush a few leaves, boil and drink; once in the morning and evening. Too much though, is poisonous, and don''t give it to expecting mothers or children.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± I said after writing it down. ¡°Anything more?¡± He looked around, searching. ¡°That one over there -¡± ¡°- is the blackthorn. The fruit is stringy and hard, but if picked just after first frost, it can be used to make tart and port.¡± I said. ¡°We saw it yesterday. What else?¡± ¡°Alright, then. What''s that?¡± He pointed towards another shrub. "A fern?" I said. ¡°Which one though?¡± That was a bit more difficult. There were at least twenty types that I had learned yesterday. ¡°Maiden-hair?¡± He shook his head, but I knew better. ¡°It''s maiden-hair.¡± I said, more certain this time. ¡°Are you sure?¡± He asked. ¡°I am.¡± ¡°Well, it is maiden-hair, BUT-¡± He cut me off before I could brag, and continued on. ¡°-You didn''t tell me what it is used -¡±l interrupted him again. ¡°Infusion for the skin, mostly bee bites.¡± I triumphantly said. ¡°Now admit it - I''m great at learning.¡± ¡°You learned it yesterday, so everything''s fresh in your memory. I''ll do admit that you are a fast learner though. Now come on - today''s lesson awaits!¡± We walked ahead through the thickets, Jacob, me and Smoker at my heels. ¡°So listen very carefully - hunting is hard, whether it be animals or monsters. Our advantage lies in our knowledge and preparation; where they are, where they will be, whether they''re hungry, thirsty, tired, or asleep, their habits, their haunts - everything we possibly can. Now see here - what''s that?¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°It¡¯s a clump of mistletoe,¡± I said. He looked around upwards, and immediately pointed to a tree. ¡°See that nest over there, third branch on the left, what colour is the bird?¡± I strained my eyes and tried to see. ¡°It''s a small blue one, I think.¡± ¡°That''s the mistletoe-bird; its main diet is the mistletoe¡¯s nectar. So whenever you find the tree or the bird, the other won''t be far behind.¡± ¡°I understand.¡± He nodded at me, and we resumed our journey. ¡°That''s why you have to be knowledgeable; for everything here depends upon the other, and only by knowing about it all would you be a forester. That''s one of the main tenets. Now let''s see, there are four types of deers in the forest, but we hunt only the red deer. Their feeding grounds -¡± ¡°Why do we hunt only the red?¡± ¡°Because the others are rarer, and their herds are much smaller. The forest has a balance, and we have to preserve it all costs. Never kill anything needlessly. That''s another important rule.¡± ¡°I see.¡± ¡°The red deer, as I was saying, have a lot of feeding grounds over at this part of the forest. Otherwise, we would have to search for their tracks somewhere where we know they gather. At the present though, I know they are at a heath a few miles ahead - so that''s where we are headed. Now, for hunting any animal, I want you to etch these laws on your heart - always be hidden, for they have great eyesight; always be silent, since they have extraordinarily sharp ears; and never approach them with the wind, because they will smell you from a mile away. For deer, remember they are noble creatures, so you must not cause them any unnecessary pain; down them with one shot. Smoker won''t help until it is badly wounded - he knows his job, and he''ll perform it admirably when required. And now we are nearly here - so follow me carefully. Smoker, heel!¡± We crouched down and started walking, and after a mile or we reached nearly the edge of the grass - and the three deers grazing there. Jacob laid down completely on the ground, and I fell beside him. ¡°They''re still feeding, so we must wait till they rest. And approach from the eastern side, cause the wind is coming in from the west.¡± We started crawling left, a tedious, slow activity until one deer suddenly decided to raise his head and sniff the air. We waited, and started moving once it lowered its head again. Yet the creature was clearly uneasy, and by the time we were just a quarter mile away, it pranced and led the herd to the other side of the clearing, thus restoring our effort useless. Jacob¡¯s response to this was to simply nod his head, and then crawl back into the forest. Once we were at a safe distance away, he spoke. ¡°Well, that''s how it goes sometimes. You have to be patient to be able to hunt. The deer¡¯s uneasy though; we have to be careful if we try again.¡± ¡°What do you think spooked it?¡± I asked. ¡°I think that when we were crawling, you stepped on a wet branch, didn''t you?¡± ¡°Yes, but that made little noise.¡± ¡°It was enough for him to hear it. Well, no use thinking over it now. These things happen sometimes - no matter how hard we try, or how experienced we are. The only thing we can do is to try all over again; approach it from the north side of the dell this time. Or do you want to go back?¡± ¡°It''s been a long day,¡± I said. ¡°But it would be shameful to leave empty handed. Let''s try one more time.¡± And so we crawled again from the north, with me being more vigilant this time. Four hundred yards, three hundred, two, and then one; we could go no further. I readied the bow and nocked the arrow. The sound of the bow stretching must have alerted him, for he looked up; but it was too late. The arrow caught it behind its head, and after taking a few unsteady steps, it fell dead. The others fled away rapidly; but that it didn''t matter to me. I had my prey. ¡°Yes!¡± I cried out and got up, yet Jacob stopped me from behind. ¡°I forgot to tell you,¡± He said. ¡°You must never do that again; while hunting, always, always keep your voice low - and you should never rise from the fern either.¡± ¡°Why, though? The deer is dead.¡± ¡°Yes, the deer is dead, but what if there was another one hiding, who was alerted by your shout? If we both had bows, then I''d be able to shoot it as well. Or perhaps it might have simply moved it''s head, and we could then have tracked it to its lair? Remember, there are all sorts of possibilities - but we lose the advantage if we expose ourselves.¡± ¡°You''re right.¡± I said. ¡°I still have a lot to learn, huh?¡± ¡°My dear boy, you''d have to keep learning all your life. Even I dare not assume that I know everything, and I have been living in this forest for 40 years. Now let''s get to our quarry, and see what we have. Ah, this is a fine beast! It''s a hart royal, just as I thought.¡± He knelt down and readied the knives. ¡°What''s a hart royal, Jacob?¡± ¡°Why, a stag is called a brocket till it''s three years old, a staggart by four, warrantable by five, and if it lives more than that, it''s a hart royal. You can tell a deer''s age by the number of antlers they have. A brocket usually has two or three, a staggart four, warrantable usually seven, and this one has nine - so it''s a hart royal.¡± We knelt down, where Jacob showed me how to cut and flay the guts. It was complicated work, and Jacob took his time to explain it to me. He then left to fetch the cart, returned, and together we loaded the body. It weighed about thirty stones - a sizeable amount. On the way back he taught me more about tracking and observing the creatures, and that night we had a grand feast of delectable, soft meat and potato curry, warm soup and bread. *** Chapter VII - In which I visit a town Chapter VII - In which I visit a town As I said before, a forest solely cannot be considered a wooded area. The moors, the heaths, the marshes, they were all a part of the forest. Keeping this into consideration, the town of Livington could be said to be inside Gwynheid itself. The reason lies in it''s the forest odd history. Gwynheid now is actually much larger than what it used to be, courtesy of William I, the Conqueror, an avid lover of the hunt, who ordered its reforestation. Several villages and towns were abandoned for the purpose, and their ruins still exist today. Many others were spared. Gywnheid now was essentially a giant patchwork of ancient groves, old trees, slightly old trees, new trees, odd looking dells, strange heaths, river marshes and towns spread out all over. Ultimately, it was all covered under the single forest. The beginning of the journey from home consisted of making our way through the forest, guided by the position of the trees, until we reached a big enough trail. From there onwards we followed the path. Gradually, the forest would start to thin, and we would start to see a few cottages along the road. Then suddenly the trees would end, and we would be out upon the open country, amidst picturesque houses under the shade of a beech or yew, with great rolling meadows spread out between them. Slowly though, the houses would grow closer together, the road would be bigger and better, and one would see people going on about their day. Then we''d crest a few hills, and the town would come into view with all its glory - the lazy river at the side, the haphazard buildings ahead, and the tall temple spire. Ride down the hill, cross the bridge, greet the guards - and we''d finally have arrived. Livington. *** My first visit was to the graveyard, alone. There, I discovered a separate gravestone for those who died in the fire - the bodies were so unrecognizable that they were all buried together. Twelve names upon a cold, light slab. I had to come to see my Aunt, yet the very first name gave me pause. Edward Deiramund (1637 - 1652) He kept the faith I knew everyone thought I died, but only after seeing myself did I know the fact. It was as if a vague illustration had suddenly became a distinct painting; Edward Deiramund, the noble, was dead, and I was now Robin Armitage, the forester, and that was the way it would remain that way forever. Before I could fully grasp that thought, the priest, in his golden white robes walked up to me. ¡°That was a terrible, senseless, tragedy.¡± He said to me. Caught off guard, I didn''t know how to respond, so I kept my mouth shut. Then the man spoke again. ¡°Forgive me for asking, but may I know your name?¡± He shrugged apologetically. ¡°I never quite forget a face, and yours is unfamiliar. Are you new here?¡± ¡°I am Robin Armitage, grandson of Jacob Armitage.¡± I explained. ¡°Ah. Yes, Armitage, I remember.¡± He nodded understandingly. ¡°Didn''t know about you though.¡± He clapped me once on the shoulders. ¡°Don''t think it''s your fault. There was nothing you could have done.¡± I was surprised at the remark, and he saw it. ¡°Your grandfather was troubled too, you know. He''s a loyal man, and I could see he blamed itself. And when I saw you, I thought you might believe similarly. I was right, wasn''t I?¡± He smiled lightly. ¡°You were right.¡± I acknowledged. A second later, I spoke up. ¡°If you don''t mind - I do have a question. What does that epitaph mean?¡± ¡°Oh? The epitaph?¡± He looked over to it, and then back at me. ¡°Well, it''s a bit of long story - but basically, it goes like this: There once lived a good man, who followed all the precepts; he was devout, charitable, fair, honest, possessed all the virtues. Yet his life was miserable; he was constantly cheated, lied and taken for granted. The goodness he did was only met with abuse; yet he did not change. So one day, his friend questioned him: Brother, are you not sick of being treated like this? Why do you continue showing on kindness to those who do not understand it? How do you persist in your efforts, even though it is never reciprocated? Then, the man replied: Friend, I am a good man, and the pain of losing that is far greater than anything I could ever suffer. The eternal Book shows us the path to life, and that is the way I intend to live. Knowing that my actions are right and just, that my nature is pure and virtuous, that my life is meaningful and useful, gives me unimaginable peace and strength. For I know that I when my time comes, and I stand before the gates of Heaven, I can proudly and loudly say - I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, and I have kept the faith.¡± He finished the parable, and drank a glass of water (we had moved in the middle of it). ¡°Do you understand now? He said. ¡°I think I do. You were very eloquent.¡± I honestly replied, and he laughed. ¡°But why did you use this particular saying?¡± ¡°Do you know the motto of the Deiramund house?¡± Semper Fidelis. ¡°Ah. I understand.¡± I said. And I did. ¡°Thank you, Reverend¡­¡± ¡°Colridge.¡± ¡°Thank you, Reverend Colridge. You were quite helpful to me as well.¡± I said. I had come to the graveyard to pay respects to my Aunt, and yet found affirmation from a source I hadn''t expected. The Sign couldn''t possibly have been clearer than this. Keep the faith. I would get my chance, I would have justice, and I would live a noble life. All I had to do was believe, and bide my time. *** The other event of import (other than buying of necessities and exploring the town) was my meeting with Oswald James, local tradesman, retired ¡®adventurer¡¯, owner of a lodge; a man with a jolly smile and a stout heart. Obviously, the impressions of him formed after many meetings; my initial thought was - why was his head shaped like an egg? ¡°Jacob! So good to see you!¡± The two of them shook hands, and then he turned to me. ¡°And who''s this?¡± ¡°That''s my grandson, Robin. Robin, this is a dear friend of mine - Oswald James.¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Grandson!¡± Oswald spluttered. ¡°Eight years have I known you, and you never mentioned a child, let alone a grandchild! How many secrets are you keeping from me, Jacob? And why?!¡± He broke off, aggrieved. ¡°Let''s go inside and talk, shall we?¡± Jacob offered. ¡°I promise I have an explanation, but I need a drink before I do so.¡± And so we went inside and sat around the table and drank the beers. It was rougher than what I used to, but soon I found myself enjoying it. Jacob looked at me as he was about to speak - a final sign of confirmation. I nodded back. We had already agreed that there needed to be another person who knew about the secret - someone with more worldly knowledge, who could guide me in the urbane society, who I could ask for help in case of a crisis. Oswald was Jacob''s choice - and I had agreed. With my acknowledgment, Jacob launched into the story, and I watched Oswald¡¯s eyes grew larger every second, until I was sure they were burst open. ¡°By the Gods!¡± He exclaimed when the narration was finished. ¡°What Providence! If there ever was -¡± Unable to continue due to excitement, he instead turned to his beer and gulped it down. ¡°Steady, Oswald.¡± Jacob said. ¡°You need to keep the secret; not a word of it anyone else.¡± ¡°You don''t have to tell me, Jacob!¡± He thumped the tankard on the table. ¡°They can dismember me limb to limb, but I''ll never speak! For I am still a King¡¯s man, and I''ll be one till the grave.¡± He solemnly finished. ¡°No. If the situation is too dire, don''t hold back. It is not worth that anyone else should lose their life over this matter.¡± I firmly said. ¡°What? No! Milord -¡± ¡°It''s Robin.¡± ¡°Call me Robin.¡± Jacob and I both interjected. ¡°Master Robin -¡± ¡°Just Robin is fine.¡± I said. ¡°Robin.¡± He said, extremely reluctantly, after taking another swig of his beer. ¡°I sat during the trial of those malfeasants, watched them hang as well¡­ and all I felt was bitter regret at my helplessness. I swore that I wasn''t going to let it happen again - hollow words, I know, for how would I get a chance? But then you arrived in front of me, returned to life, milord, and¡­ I swear I''ll give my life to keep it that way.¡± He paused. ¡°Even if you say no.¡± ¡°You said milord again.¡± Jacob reminded gently. My mind was somewhere else. ¡°Wait - the criminals were hanged?¡± I asked. ¡°When did that happen?¡± ¡°Within two months, mi-obin, when the crime was revealed to all, they were brought before the arch-judges at Caemlyn, and found guilty. The entirety of Albion condemned them; and even the Parliamentarians have distanced themselves from these fanatics. Were you not aware of the fact?¡± ¡°No, I was not.¡± I looked towards Jacob, who had chosen the same moment to turn away and drink. The wave of disappointment within me was quickly quashed though - they were only a small regiment of a larger army. ¡°The Parliamentarians? Are they the Equalists? No, wait - it''s better if you tell me all you know about the war, Ser Oswald. I am woefully ignorant about it all.¡± ¡°Well, first of all, if I have to call you Robin, you have to call me Oswald.¡± He shook his finger before I could protest. ¡°I''ll not have you call me Ser while I address you by name. Pretend that I''m a familiar uncle, if nothing else.¡± I nodded my assent, and then he continued. ¡°And about the war¡­ well, what can I say? It has been a great and terrible thing. Albion itself has been divided. Neighbors have turned against one another; there have been skirmishes everywhere. No place is truly safe, and even here, in Livington, I fear there are those who consider us their enemies.¡± He finished mournfully, and drank another cup. ¡°How did this come to be?¡± I asked. ¡°How can men turn against their own King? How can people ally with those who burn down innocents and still consider them righteous?¡± ¡°That''s why these are dark times, mas-Robin.¡± He corrected himself again. ¡°I''m glad you live in the forest, for that is the safest place you can stay at the moment.¡± ¡°Tell me how it began.¡± I said, and then realized how arrogant I sounded. ¡°Please?¡± ¡°Of course. Although, I must warn you - I too, have a general idea of what transpired - hearsay and all that. And I doubt if truly knows about it all - that is the nature of the present times. But let''s see, the entire thing is said to have began when the King summoned the Parliament - wait; the Parliament is, how should I say¡­¡± ¡°The House of the Blessed, which represents the will of the blessed, and The House of Commons, which represent the will of the commons, who come together to form the Parliament, in order to pass declarations and advise the King.¡± I said, repeating it word for word from what I had read. Oswald blinked, and nodded his head. ¡°That¡¯s correct. Well, the King summoned the Parliament in order to pass a new Bill for Taxation, for the treasury needed the money. Not only did the Parliament fail to pass a consensus, they also accused the King of misrule and tried to impeach the Duke of Buckingham for counts of bribery and corruption. There were other grievances as well, including flagrant taxation of the last few years, the military spending of all failed expeditions - basically, it came to a point that neither party was willing to concede on any matter whatsoever. The King didn''t stand for this flagrant display of power, and dissolved the Parliament. However, they disagreed, and then alleged that it was the King who needed to step down.¡± ¡°What?¡± At this point, even I couldn''t control my indignation. ¡°They went that far?¡± ¡°They did, I''m afraid. The King then ordered the arrest of five MPs who he thought was behind it all, but they had already fled. Then he violated protocol and stepped into the Parliament; and after delivering an ultimatum to submit, left the Hall. The Parliamentarians, too had enough, and decided to gather the army. And that''s how the war started. Now everybody thought it would be a short one at first, that one side would relent sooner or later. However, the war didn''t end, and soon every part of Albion was drawn into the conflict. No one is sure of what right or wrong is - but they all have picked a side and are willing to kill each other for it.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I''m afraid of what''s going to happen next.¡± I drank a little, and thought to myself about it all. ¡°Any side which has innocent burning killers are the wrong side, Oswald. I don''t need to think too hard about that.¡± ¡°I am not defending the Parliamentarians, but they''re not the same as the Equalists. No, they''re a new, fanatical group - they think that the King is a criminal, and should be tried and punished as such.¡± ¡°Preposterous! By the law a man should be tried by his peers, and who''s equal to the King?¡± ¡°Oh, that brings up their other point: they think that all people are created equal, and should therefore possess the same rights as well. Majesty becomes naught, and can be treated as a commoner.¡± I was so angry that I couldn''t speak for a few seconds. ¡°I see why they''re called fanatics now. Only a insane mind could think of such ideas.¡± I said. We passed a few more minutes in contemplation and drinking, until I decided to speak again. ¡°Anyway, I would also like to ask you for advice. Jacob thinks that I should wait for the King to call for a Army before leaving the forest. I was hoping to stay here for a while and then go join my Father. What do you think?¡± Oswald nodded and then spoke with thinking. ¡°By no means, Robin, should you leave now. I do not where your Father is now, but he is a capable general, and well versed in the Art of War. Forgive me for saying this, but there''s no help you can provide him now. Rather, I''ll think that we should try to let him know you''re safe - he might be distracted if he thinks you''re dead.¡± ¡°Yes, I had forgotten about that.¡± I said. The dejection must have been clear in my face, cause Oswald then clapped my shoulders. ¡°That doesn''t mean that you can''t train for it! Listen - what do you think about being a Adventurer? You get to learn, you get to earn, and you''ll be doing a lot of good. What do you think?¡± Jacob and I both look at each other, startled by the idea that we (or at least I) had never considered. ¡°It might be helpful.¡± He said. ¡°But he still needs to learn the basics first.¡± ¡°Jacob, I know enough!¡± ¡°No.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Maybe after winter, but certainly not now.¡± We glared at each other (I glared, he was stone faced), when Oswald broke it up. ¡°Well, of course, it''s going to take some time; you can''t simply walk in, say your name and start adventuring, you know?¡± He laughed, and it eased the tension. ¡°There''s nothing to do in winter in anyway - so even I''d say that you should learn from Jacob till then.¡± ¡°Fine. After winter it is.¡± I relented, and the harmonious atmosphere returned. We ate, drank, talked about adventurers and explorers (Oswald talked, we listened). It wasn''t until late evening that we were done, and then we began again once Jacob agreed it was better to stay the night here. So, I slept at Oswald¡¯s house at night - a warm, comfortable bed, bigger than what I had been accustomed to. In the morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn, and a wondrous sight awaited me - a thin layer of snow that blanketed everything in dazzling white. Winter had arrived at last. *** Chapter VIII - In which I celebrate Chapter VIII - In which I celebrate A forest in winter is a disquieting place. The sounds of the birds, animals and insects disappear, leaving only a dazzling silent white landscape; reshaping everything familiar into a new unknown. Time holds little meaning; the days are dreary and cold, the nights are drearier and colder, and the snow covers it all. The whole world is asleep, dying, waiting for Spring and the chance to be born anew. Of course, I didn''t get to remain idle. My mastery was archery was grudgingly accepted by Jacob to be competent, and so we focused on the next weapon; the staff. There was a Silver¡¯s Guide To Weapons at Deirmoor that I loved to read. The staff took up most of the book; Silver claimed that it had infinite possibilities, and had compiled the moves originating from different countries, each of them fascinating in their variance. That was followed by his treatise breaking down the styles, comparing the commonalities and differences, and laying down his ideas for a universal, foundational style. I remember being entranced by it; and as Jacob explained to me once again, I couldn''t help but recall the excitement. The possibilities of staff fighting start from the very first choice itself - which wood to use? Heavy or light, soft or hard, flexible or rigid - every tree was different in nature. I went with Silver''s (and also Jacob''s) recommendation - a black oak. It would be on the heavier side, but I knew I had the strength to wield it. Then came the length of the stick. Everyone had different ideas and theories, but again, I went with the tried and tested method of Silver - an arm and a half more than one''s size. Finally came actual practice. It started pretty simple, easily asked and answered, and gradually became more complex. How should one stand? Legs apart, knees slightly bent - so as to provide a smaller target and being able to move faster. How should one move? Quickly, with a single large step, keeping the weapon pointed at the enemy, and making sure the foot which moves aligns with the Main Hand. How should one hold the staff? There was the High Guard, Mid Guard, Low Guard, Overhead, Side Head, Sideways, Vertical, Vertical Slanted with the Full Hold, Half Hold and Quarter Hold. That could be further divided into Main Hand and Other Hand, followed by even more specifics - Pointing up, pointing down, defensive, offensive, thrust, lunge or swing. And how should one fight? To fight was to move between the stances, protecting and attacking to defeat the enemy. So I practiced changing, moving, swinging, thrusting in the air while Jacob called out directions. There was a wooden pole with markings which I was supposed to hit (built by me), which kept on increasing as I grew more proficient. At first, I made the beginner mistakes - dropped the staff, sent it flying, hit myself with it, poked my own hands; all of them, multiple times. Then I made few better mistakes - hitting the wrong spot, improper stance, weak guard, slow switching, soft swinging, inaccurate thrusts, and many more. They took a longer time to correct, but I was still susceptible to messing it up in the heat of the moment. After that came the advanced mistakes - why this stance was wrong, how I should have dodged, where should I have advanced; difficult to comprehend, and only resolved through going over it again and again. Then, after two months of practicing by myself, Jacob joined to give me some real experience. There was now Guard training, wherein Jacob kept attacking and I defended, Attack Training, the opposite of that, and actual fighting. Needless to say, I was horrible at all of them. My growth was a castle of sand, washed away every day by the unfathomable ocean of Jacob''s experience. Physically, I was superior - yet his precise attacks, sweeping defense and deceitful feints defeated me every time. He was merciless; no matter what I did, I looked like a bumbling amateur. Still, I persisted in my efforts; and even though I could never defeat Jacob once, the time I lasted against him increased. A small consolation, but it would have to suffice. I hoped not everyone was as strong as him; although at least I would be able to run away if that were the case. That''s what I did during the winter days. Nights were worse - I learned every household work imaginable; and was still stifled to boredom. Not a single event of import happened - the closest break from routine I had was the Natalis celebrations. *** Ages ago, when the world was new and full of wonder - Gods walked amongst our midst. Earth was a paradise, where all beings lived in harmony and peace. Everything was perfect. And one day, on our perfect world, Evil was born. All Evil that was, is, and ever will be - condensed into a single form. The Concept had never existed before - and it tore through the unprepared world. There was a War - a War so great that no other War before or after could match up to it¡¯s scale. Every God and every being worked together to defeat Evil, staking it all on a desperate, final, attempt. There was countless theories as to what happened on that day. Some say that the Gods and Perfect Evil destroyed each other. Others think that the Gods destroyed Perfect Evil, and then chose to ascend and leave this world forever - for it was their unnatural perfectness that created Evil in the first place. There are even people that believe that the entire thing is a hoax - a lie we tell ourselves to explain the unexplainable. Well, whatever may have happened to the Gods, all other beings were still there. Against all odds, Evil had been defeated, and we were victorious. The world had been irrevocably changed, but we were still alive. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Natalis. People called it by different names, observed it on different days, performed different rituals - but the meaning remained the same. Natalis, the Day of Life. We Albanns followed the traditional ways, celebrating it on the Apihelian day (The day the star Apihelia reaches its zenith) enjoying the games, feasts, gifts, stories - well, every gaiety imaginable. I didn''t like it. I might sound unthankful; but everything about Natalis made me miserable. We did have a feast in Gywnheid, and Aunt Ethel did give me gifts ¡ª but we weren''t a family. My situation, which would be ignored throughout the rest of the year, would somehow earn pitying stares and hushed stares during Natalis. His mother is dead, his father didn''t visit, oh, how sad he must be... Anyways, when Jacob brought up the subject, I was apathetic, to say the least. Jacob, however, seemed to be overly enthused, and I allowed myself to be dragged at his pace. If someone was happy, why should I go out my way to ruin it? There wasn''t much to do in the forest, and it was hard to visit anywhere due to the snow. We settled on having a grand feast - well, something better than what we usually ate. We started cooking early that morning - preparing the sauces and a special stock called roux (something Jacob had learned in Ariance). First, I mixed the fat and flour, and keep on whisking on a low burning fire. When it turned all dark brown and slightly gooey, I started adding the herbs and spices. Then I had to whisk some more, and after it grew thicker, I added the venison. The final step was to cook until the meat was soft enough for liking - and removing it from the fire. The special venison was ready. The pork was seasoned with herbs and smoked till it was oozing fat. Fresh milk, a little bit of honey, and bread. The food was heavenly, and I ate with gusto. Yet, I was preoccupied that day, my mind wandering between the Great War, Natalis, my father, myself, my - ¡°What are you thinking about?¡± Jacob asked. He must have noticed. My thoughts scattered at the question. What was I thinking about, truly? ¡°Nothing in particular.¡± I said. ¡°Surely it must be something.¡± He was insistent. The thoughts were formless, and I couldn¡¯t put them into words. But there was something¡­ ¡°You knew that the soldiers had been hanged,¡± I remembered that again, and this time I asked him. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± I could tell he was discomforted by the question. But to his credit, he didn¡¯t avoid it. ¡°Nothing would have changed. And I was worried, as well.¡± ¡°About what?¡± I asked, and immediately answered my question. ¡°That I would do something stupid?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He answered straight away. ¡°I am not a fool.¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡± Jacob looked at me. ¡°If you made a choice on anger, you¡¯ll end up regretting it. ¡°Even if it is the right choice?¡± Sophistry was my refuge. ¡°Yes.¡± And Jacob cut straight through it. He was right. He usually was. But I needed to be the one to kill them. Why? As long as they were dead, what did it matter? It mattered to me. Somehow, it mattered to me. Why? I needed to know. Did they fear their death? No, that wasn¡¯t it. Did they think could escape justice? No, there was something else, wasn¡¯t it? Did they regret their actions? Close, but not yet¡­ The answer, or rather the question, when I finally realized it, was deceptively, brilliantly, simple. I wanted to know why. Why did they kill? How could they watch someone burn and think it righteous? Did they know that they would face death for their actions, or was it simply not a crime in their eyes? But how could it be? I couldn¡¯t understand them, or their reasons. Was there even a reason? Or were they simply wicked, and wanted to murder? But why? I didn¡¯t know, and I couldn¡¯t imagine. It was incomprehensible to me. Maybe that¡¯s what the Gods felt as well. I smiled at my own narcissistic comparison. ¡°Those soldiers....¡± I began, but couldn¡¯t finish the question. ¡°Do you think Evil existed?¡± If he was surprised at my question, he didn¡¯t show it. ¡°You know, I was young once... ¡± He began slowly. ¡°Hot-headed and rebellious; I wanted to leave this place, explore the world.¡± He smiled wistfully. ¡°And I did just that, packed up my bags and became an adventurer.¡± ¡°What?¡± I exclaimed. ¡°I never knew about that!¡± ¡°That¡¯s cause I never told anyone.¡± He laughed at my surprised face. ¡°I traveled the continent, heading westwards. Hispania, Ariance, Solaris, Starkeisen, I visited every country I could. Eventually, I ended up going further than I should have, and arrived at Fortis.¡± ¡°The frontier itself?¡± I let out a gasp. ¡°So you have seen demons?!¡± ¡°And Remnants as well. Don¡¯t ask about them - it¡¯s not worth talking about.¡± His stopped, collecting himself. ¡°The thing is¡­ I have seen them. And although many may disagree¡­ I don¡¯t think they were Evil.¡± He raised up a hand to forestall me. ¡°To me... they were beasts. Terrifying creatures that cause nothing but pain and death - yet they are forced by their nature. They cannot stop any more than a wolf stop to eat grass. It simply isn¡¯t in their nature. And to me, that wasn¡¯t evil. It was tragic.¡± ¡°So you have to chose to be Evil?¡± I realized what he wanted to say. ¡°A choice is not easily defined, Robin. People bind themselves up in so many ways that their actions almost become inevitable. Those soldiers might have believed they were doing the right thing, serving a higher purpose. Isn¡¯t it tragic -¡± ¡°- No. They had a choice, and they chose to kill.¡± I snapped. ¡°Doesn''t that make them evil?¡± The outburst strained the air; no one spoke for awhile. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right.¡± Jacob finally said. ¡°They might have chose to do it.¡± ¡°So you believe you have never seen evil?¡± I changed the conversation. "Just tragedies?" ¡°Well, yes¡­¡± He looked thoughtful. ¡°Although, there was this one time, when my wife passed away -¡± ¡°You were married?¡± I was surprised once again. ¡°I mean, I thought you were only pretending¡­¡± I realized how stupid I sounded immediately after I spoke. ¡°Oh yes, I hadn¡¯t told you about Marigold.¡± He laughed, but I could tell he was forcing it. ¡°Yeah, after I returned home, I kind of met her, and we fell in love.¡± He was staring off in the distance, lost in thoughts of a better time and place. I watched the snow fall outside, piling across the window. The fire flickered lazily in the hearth. I didn¡¯t quite know what to say. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Ah! Why are you being so serious? It was a long time ago. I have made my peace with it.¡± He tried to laugh again. ¡°Now come on! Today¡¯s supposed to be a celebration! Try to cheer up, will you?!¡± ¡°Right.¡± I tried to smile as well. It was Natalis. A celebration of our victory, of our continued existence on this world. A celebration with our loved ones, our family, a commemoration of the greatest miracle of all - life itself. Even though I had suffered, I was still alive. As long as I lived, there was hope. And I would make it a reality. ***