The Others

"Sign up! Sign up! Your last chance for the militia!" exclaimed the bored collector. The saying "only a formality" was taken to heart in the quiet village of Smith. Not one villager had signed up for the militia ever since most could remember. It was justifiable considering that having a militia was mostly a formality. There hadn't been any fighting in those parts since the nearly forgotten Riot of the Crops where some of the villagers went crazy and attacked half the villagers.

Rose Dale longed to be the one to break the record. She had nothing to show for in her rather dreary life except for her old ranch and her tedious parents. There were the same flower names (she despised her name), the same primitive dialect that was as bad as grunting and the same close-minded people. Joining the militia would give her the opportunity to see something outside the village. Her parents or any of the neighbors would never approve of her joining. It was her duty to get married and have six children, since it was "auspicious" number. There was nothing auspicious about six children, she would lose her mind after the first two. Rose desperately wished to flee with the militia and show the villagers there was more to life than good crop.

"Rose! Rose! Where are you? Not dreaming again are we?" Mrs. Dale bellowed from the hearth. "I'm coming!" Rose cried, hurrying home, knowing her parents would never understand.

Later that day she futilely brought up the militia again. "Did you know that the milita is recruiting volunteers again?" she began tentatively. "Of course I know! Those ruffians rob us of half our crop yet they still have the nerve to ask use to give up our children. The last one that went, never came!" her mother exploded, clearly she had been thinking about this for some time. "Maybe they didn't come back because there was nothing to come back to. I think someone ought to help the militia, after all they are the reason we are alive!" Rose said amazed at her mother's selfish words. "Are you still defending that damn militia? This is about Samuel, isn't it? Do you really think you can join the militia and not marry him? His father is the wealthiest farmer in town, if you marry him then we will never have to worry about taxes again" Her face changing with the thought of more money, greed making it darker.

Rose stood there shocked. Tears started running down her face, Did her mother care about her at all? "Mother! How can think about riches? This is my life, I could be unhappy forever…do you even care?"

"Rose!" her father thundered "do not disrespect you mother like that. Of course we care about you but" her father continued in a quieter voice "don't you think it about time you settled down and got married? This talk about joining the militia is crazy and you know it. They wouldn't take a lady anyway. This was too much for Rose. Her father was right; the militia never took women (this irked her as well). However, her anger at the militia and her mother for her cold words soon melted away into full blown panic as her father's words set in: "settle down and get married" to an odious farmer, no less!

Her parents saw her unrest and decided to talk some sense into her; surely she wouldn't be this unreasonable. Her parents reasoned that there was no point in joining the militia since there was no need to fight anyone. She would be told to polish the leader's shoes. But she had heard rumors that something evil was stirring up north, near the City of Kings.

It was far enough to be considered a myth but the evil was spreading. No one knew what it was, not even the men living in the City knew what hit them. Some said it was an evil spirit roaming around since the Forgotten Ages when the world was covered in darkness. Whatever it was, it was getting stronger.

"Oh my lord! Isn't this unexpected? You won't believe it but Samuel Miller Sr. is arriving here tomorrow afternoon" her mother squealed after reading a message she just opened. "Hurry Rose! Quickly go get a slab of meat and the freshest bread available. I'll need it for tomorrow." "But mother…" Rose tried. "No buts just do as I say. Now!" shouted Mrs. Dale. Grumbling, Rose made her way to the market furious at the way her life was going. All her life she had been different from everyone around her. This could be seen physically as well as mentally. Rose, with her lush, auburn hair and startling green eyes had a stern beauty that was now long forgotten in those parts. Her mother often lamented that Rose would never marry for she was slender and tall. "Almost boyish" her mother denounced. However there was a grace in her movements and expression that had an enchanting elfish air that gave Rose many unwanted admirers such as Samuel Miller, Jr. or Sammy.

She had known Sammy since she was a baby just like she knew everyone else in the Smith village. He wasn't a terrible choice for a husband, she was in fact rather friendly with him but the notion of being tied down to anyone was at this point in Rose's life unacceptable. Especially because she did not feel anything for Sammy, it would be impossible for her shift her image of him from a childhood companion to a passionate lover. This did not seem to trouble Samuel Miller, Jr. since apparently he had cared for her since they were children.

Rose knew that Sam's father was arriving to finalize her betrothal and set the wedding date. This was terrifying. As a bride she would lose any semblance of the freedom she had now. Of course, after the wedding none of that would matter. She couldn't end up married! If she got married all her dreaming would come to an end. After going to the market Rose slipped back into her home and gave her mother the bread. She then pretended to be ill and confined herself to her room. There was still time and the militia was leaving the next night. "Yes of course" she thought. Her heart quickened as she thought of the possibility that she could leave this village and all plans of marrying Sammy Miller (ugh she thought with a grimace) behind.

Later that night as her parents slept Rose did something she had been fantasizing about since she was a child. She ran away. The militia was leaving soon and with them the volunteers from the other villages. She would hide identity, cut her hair and wear her father's breeches (she wore them at night anyways). No one would know! Then she would be free to explore.