Fire. He had seen it countless times. In the stove, radiating from a campfire, or even in the hands of a mage. Though he clearly remembered its red-hot appearance, he could not remember it like this. Flames consumed the western half of the village, black tendrils of smoke billowing from the thatch roofs of the homes. The smell of burning wood masked the usual sweet scent of flowers and the blue sky was rapidly disappearing behind the clouds of smoke. War. Unlike fire, he had never experienced it. Of course, he had heard of the battles taking place far around the continent, but the other villagers had assured each other that it was impossible for the battles to reach their small coastal village. And yet, here he stood, watching the village slowly burn to embers from the doorway of his own home, the red of the fire reflecting in his yellow eyes.
"Ahrang!" came a stern voice from behind him, shaking him from his trance. "Don't just stand there. Grab your brother and follow your mother. We're leaving everything behind...it's better to escape with our lives than perish with some material goods."
Ahrang's father stood a good head taller than the twenty-two year old, who was quite tall himself. He had a dark, black mustache that concealed much of his mouth with a matching pair of bushy black eyebrows. A stern look seemed to constantly grace his face, but upon closer inspection, one could easily see the compassion in his yellow eyes. The eyes were the only feature that Ahrang could say he inherited from his father. Ahrang's own hair, his pride and joy, was the same unique pink-gold color of his mothers. All through his life, people had questioned how his hair had naturally grown with streaks of light pink in it, but he was unsure of the answer himself. Glancing towards the living room, he saw his mother's pink hair flowing behind her as she packed a bundle of food into a small pack. Even now as a grown man, people could easily tell that he was a carbon copy of his mother. The pink hair, pointy nose, pale skin, and freckles all taken directly from her. As a child, he had felt guilty that his father had little to show in his son, but that guilt had faded when Tyren was born. His little brother bore the same short, black hair as his father and though he was no more than ten, Ahrang could see the stern gaze beginning to develop. As if on cue, the small boy appeared, racing around the corner to hug their father's leg.
"Papa! I don't want to leave all of my toys behind!" he exclaimed, his green eyes filled with sadness. The large man let out a sigh, before turning to Ahrang and giving him a look that told him to handle the situation. The twenty-two year old rushed forward and grabbed his little brother's hand, leading him off to where their mother stood. Their father was a kind man, but he was impossible to deal with if his mood turned sour.
"Ah, there you are Ahrang," his mother's airy voice said. She turned and handed him the pack, brushing a stray strand of pink-blonde hair from her face and looking the boys over with her emerald eyes. "There's no time to waste. The battle shall reach our doors any minute. We have to leave now, so make sure you have everything."
Tyren let out a cry of dismay as his mother started out the door. Ahrang eyed the little boy, a feeling of pity welling up inside of him. While his own childhood had gone by carefree and quietly, the sanctity of their small village was violated right in the middle of his little brother's.
"I'll be right there, mother! Start on without us," Ahrang exclaimed, running back into the house. His mother held out her hand to stop him, but it was too late. The boy raced through the house till he reached the play room on the far side. Digging through a chest of dusty toys, his eyes lit up as he found what he was looking for.
"Scruffy! It's been ages since I saw you. You have a new master and a new duty now!" Ahrang stated as he pulled a small, stuffed dog from the chest. The brown and white toy's floppy ears bounced around eagerly, as if it were happy to be free from the chest. Ahrang hurried back to his little brother and handed the toy to him.
"This is Scruffy. He was mine while I was growing up, but I'm giving him to you now to keep you safe! Don't lose him or you'll have to answer to me."
The little boy's eyes lit up. Although he would never admit it, Tyren idolized Ahrang quite a bit.
"I can keep him?" Tyren said, trying to stifle his excitement.
"Of course, he's all yours. Now let's hurry before mother takes him away from you!" Ahrang exclaimed, grabbing his brother's hand and pulling him out of the house towards their mother.
"Ahrang, your father wants to stay behind and help our neighbors. Some of them are too old to evacuate alone," his mother stated, a flicker of worry outlining her face for a moment. "The Plegians have cut off our escape and burned down the exterior of the village already, so the only way for us to go is towards the coast."
Ahrang's eyes widened in surprise upon hearing her plan. "The coast? But we don't own a boat! We'll have our backs to a wall when they catch up to us!"
His mother shifted uncomfortably, gripping her white dress nervously. "I'm hoping that we can find a ship that's willing to take us to the Ylissean capital. There must be at least one empty ship that can take us aboard."
Ahrang could tell his mother felt uneasy about the plan-as did he-but he could think of no better option. "Will father meet us at the docks then?"
"Yes, he said he would be down as soon as he helped out the neighbors. Tyren, don't look so worried! He knows how to defend himself. You've seen how big he is!"
The little boy seemed to take heart in his mother's words, clutching Scruffy more tightly. Ahrang nodded to his mother and grabbed his brother's hand. "Alright, let's not waste time then. The faster we find a ship that can take us, the better."
The docks were but a ten minute walk from their home, but the sidewalks were crowded with people who had the same idea, extending the length of their journey. Ahrang held his brother's hand tight so he would not be swept away in the crowd. As they finally neared the coast, they were squeezed so tightly by people on all sides of them that it was impossible to move at all. Ahrang stood on his toes to see what was going on. Only two medium-sized boats floated in the water, far less than the usual amount of ships that were usually docked. "There's only two ships left!"
"Two? But there are usually at least ten!" his mother exclaimed, worry covering her face. "What happened to all of the others?"
"The dock boys said they sailed off at the first sign of danger," replied an old man standing next to them, age spots dotting his tanned face. "Didn't even take a single person with them."
"Then they expect to fit all of the villagers on these two ships alone?" his mother asked in bewilderment, her pink brows furrowing in confusion.
"Aye, but it seems like it's first come, first serve. Once they're filled up...well, I've always heard that our villagers are good at swimming," the old man replied, letting out a chuckle. How he could laugh in a situation like this was beyond Ahrang. "Don't worry, lass. Ye and your family should be able to make it aboard."
His mother whisked around, trying to see over people's heads in the direction they had come from. "Aryn. How is Aryn going to get on the ship?" she asked worriedly, mostly to herself.
The same worry had occurred to Ahrang. There was simply no way their father could cut in line and reach the ship that they boarded. He turned to his mother. "I'll go back and get him."
"No. I won't have one of my children going back into a battlefield. I shall go myself," she stated, running her hand through her long, straight hair. Ahrang grabbed her wrist and shook his head frantically.
"Mother, no! We need you. Please, you can't leave us. If something happens, we can't lose both of you..." he exclaimed. Tyren, finally understanding what was happening, began to bawl, the tears running down his face and into Scruffy's fur. His mother ran her hand through his hair, reassuringly as she gazed around for another option. Her emerald eyes lit up for a moment before she pulled Ahrang close to whisper in his ear.
"The old docks. Even though no trading ships use them anymore, there are occasionally some small boats that still dock there!" she whispered. "The whole town rushed here, I'm sure that the old docks are all but abandoned."
He looked at his mother with wide eyes. "It's too risky. What if there are no boats? And how will father know to look for us there?"
"I'll wait on the path to these docks for your father. It won't be dangerous, so I won't have you worry about me," she replied, determination overcoming her youthful face. At times, she hardly seemed like his mother at all. Her features had barely changed with age and the freckles dotting her face gave her a girlish look.
Ahrang ran his hand through his own, short pink hair with a resigned sigh. "Fine, but there are likely no boats there."
"If the fates are good, there shall be a boat, Ahrang," she replied. And with that, she turned and began weaving her way out of the crowd from the way they had come. Ahrang gripped his brother's hand and began pushing his way out of the crowd toward the old docks, wondering just how reliable the fates were. As they finally emerged at the edge of the crowd, he took a deep breathe of fresh air, relieved to be free of the frenzy.
"Is mommy going to bring daddy with her?" asked Tyren, holding Scruffy tightly.
Ahrang forced a smile and nodded, pulling his brother along. "Of course! You heard her yourself, silly. Now it's our job to find a boat to take all of us to Ylisse."
Tyren was seemingly convinced by the response and followed along without hesitation. After another fifteen minutes of walking, the old docks finally came into sight. The wood of the decks was dilapidated and molding from lack of use and half of it had already crumbled into the sea. The whole site seemed to be the perfect place for smugglers to land, rather than trade ships. Still, Ahrang was relieved to see that there was no crowd here. The docks sat at the bottom of a steep hill and from the top, Ahrang had easy vantage of the whole coast. His golden eyes widened as a small sail boat caught his attention, docked at the far edge of the decks.
"Tyren! A boat! Hurry, let's go!" he exclaimed, moving towards it at as fast of a pace as the little boy could keep. As they approached, they found a man loading boxes onto the boat, unaware of their presence.
"Er...excuse me, sir," Ahrang began. "We must beg a favor of you, please."
The man whirled around, reaching for a sword on the deck of his ship, a scowl on his ugly face. Ahrang pulled Tyren back sharply, keeping the younger boy behind him.
"Oh, just a village boy," the sailor said, dropping his sword to his side. The scowl faded, but the ugliness remained. He seemed far from a friendly man. "What do ya want?"
"My family...we live in this village. We need to escape but all of the boats are full or have left. Please take us with you!" Ahrang exclaimed, Tyren peering out from behind his back. The sailor shook his head fervently and pointed at the boxes.
"This here is my passenger, boy. There's no room for anything else," he stated, turning his attention back to loading the boxes onto the ship.
"B-but! Please! We'll be taken by the Plegians if you don't help us," Ahrang rebutted, squeezing his brother's hand tighter. What were a few boxes in exchange for human lives?
"I suppose I could be convinced to part with a few of these boxes for a bit of coin..." he stated, turning around with a wide smile on his face. His teeth were decaying in many spots and grey stubble covered the entirety of his jaw. "Aye, this here is treasure and if ye want me to part with it, you'd better have a substitute.
Ahrang grimaced at the thought of giving up part of what little money they had, but nodded his head. "We'll pay, just please take us with you."
"A wise choice, lad. For the two of ye, it'll be twenty gold coins."
Ahrang let out a gasp of disbelief. "Twenty? Do you think we're royalty? Twenty silver coins, maybe, but we barely have twenty gold coins total! And our mother and father are on their way as well...there's no way we can pay forty."
As Ahrang continued to argue with the sailor, Tyren let out a squeal of happiness, pulling at his brother's hand. Ahrang turned to see what the boy was making a commotion about and almost let out a squeal himself. His parents had crested the hill and it seemed that both of them were unharmed. Within a few moments they had descended the hill and stood with their children. Ahrang explained the situation to them and stepped back as his father's face turned red with fury.
"You put us on this ship, damn it, thieving sailor. If you think we're paying forty gold coins, you must be dreaming. We're just normal villagers, we don't have that to spare."
The sailor let out a hearty laugh before loading the last box onto his ship. "How about I make you a deal. The ship is honestly quite full, so I should only take two of you anyway. I'll take two for ten gold. Now that's an offer, isn't it?"
"You expect two of us to just stay behind?" asked Ahrang's mother, a rare hint of annoyance in her usually soft voice.
"Ah, you didn't let me finish, m'lady. A friend of mine should be stopping by here in a bit to collect the rest of our things. He'd likely take the other two for the right price. Since I gave you such a deal, I'm sure you'll have enough to spare and give to him," the sailor said, grinning once again. "Now take it or leave it, there's not much time left before those Plegians reach these docks. I don't want to be here when they do."
"Are the ships heading to the same next destination?" asked Ahrang's father. The sailor gave a nod and his father turned to his family. "We have no choice. Liya, you and Ahrang get on this one. Tyren and I will get on the next. That way one of us will be with one of them at all times."
His mother nodded her agreement and knelt down to Tyren's level. "Ahrang and I will see you soon. Stay with papa, okay? Make sure nothing happens to him, I'm counting on you."
She pulled him into an embrace and kissed him on the forehead, her pink hair falling softly upon his black strands. Ahrang felt his heart pounding, uncomfortable with the idea of separating. He pulled his brother into a hug and tapped Scruffy on the head. "Don't forget! Scruffy will protect you, so make sure you don't lose him, alright?"
Liya pulled her husband into a hug and gave him a kiss, her emerald eyes filled with apprehension. Ahrang followed suit and before he knew it, they were on board the sailor's crowded ship. The sailor turned to his father. "The next ship should be here in fifteen minutes. We're setting sail for Ylisse now."
Ahrang opened his mouth to object and see if they could not wait for the other ship to arrive before departing, but his father gave his agreement. With that, the sail sprung open and the ship was hoisted into the blue ocean. He glanced at his mother, hair blowing wildly in the breeze, but she did not seem to see him. Her eyes were locked on the two they were leaving behind, almost unblinking. For the next ten minutes, the boat sailed completely silently, Ahrang's father and brother growing into small specks on the coast. The boy could not remember the last time he had been away from his little brother and the thought saddened him. He could see Tyren jumping about, completely unaware of the situation. A faint smile spread across Ahrang's face, but it faded as suddenly as it had come. A large group of men in blood red armor crested the top of the hill, looking around for a moment before pointing down at his father and brother.
"No..." he heard his mother whisper beside him. "No! Turn the ship around! The Plegians! They arrived too soon!"
Ahrang ran to the sailor, but the man had his sword in hand. "We're not turning around lest you all want to be captured together."
"No! Gods, no!" he heard his mother saying. Ahrang ran back to the butt of the ship, grasping the railing so hard that his hands went ghostly white. The Plegians had charged down the hill and surrounded the males. He could see his father's hands in the air, as well as Tyren's, still holding Scruffy. He looked at his mother, who had now fallen silent, and saw a stream of tears pouring from her eyes. His own vision blurred with tears, but he brushed them away so he could see what was happening. The Plegians knocked Scruffy from his brothers hands and tried to tie his hands, but the boy slipped free and ran to pick up the toy dog, stuffing it down his shirt. The Plegian soldiers quickly caught him and bound his hands behind his back, doing the same with their father. Hostages? Ahrang's heart lifted a bit. They were taking them as hostages! They still had a chance-however small-of being reunited.
"Mother..." he stated, pulling her into a hug. He released her and pointed at the scene. "They're taking them alive! There's still hope! Once we get to Ylisse, we can ask the prince to help us gain their freedom!"
His mother nodded but could not stop sobbing. The soldiers began to march the two captives back up the hill towards what looked like a caravan at the top. The canvas on one of the wagons was marked with a blood red hawk, seemingly thirsty for blood. Ahrang continued to watch the scene until the ship swung westward and the view became obscured by a forest. His mother's crying had finally ceased and the pair sat upon the deck in silence, their strawberry hair ragged from the sea breeze.
"The prince will help us..." his mother whispered. Ahrang nodded his agreement. He had heard great stories about Prince Chrom. He had marched an army across most of the continent and won battle after battle. Surely he could help get his brother and father back, and subdue the Plegians in the process. As he gazed out at the open sea, his heart felt empty. Had he finally learned the feeling of war? He turned his attention to the sailor, who had left them in peace all this time.
"Make haste."
Decided to start a FE fic! The real FE characters will appear next chapter, so stay tuned! :)