The Emerald Servant

Feidhelm O'Flaherty – Mercenary for a German Army

Aislin O'Flaherty – His wife

Catriona O'Flaherty – One of three children to them

Marienbard O'Flaherty – Second of the three

Norienne O'Flaherty– Third child

CHAPTER ONE: Leaving the Nest

Present DayIreland

"Aislin, I depart today."

My family and I stood in our small and dilapidated farm, sobbing and mourning as my father now had to leave for Germany to give his arms in a cavalry. It was not a choice he wanted to accept, for the Germans had been brusque with their "invitation" leaving him no option. The trip would be insanely lengthened; as our peasant family lived in the colony of Ireland, and Germany was across the Great Empire, through the seas and inland hundreds of miles. I couldn't bear the thought of being forced to do such a hassle. However my father was a patient man, so therefore I just hoped it would be a safe journey.

My mother, eyes red from weeping, wrapped her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. In return, he caressed Aislin by running his gauntlet-covered hand up and down her back. His expression was grave, as he knew the farm wouldn't survive with him gone. My sisters, Norienne and Catriona, ran up to Father and hugged his legs tightly, begging him not to go. I was the only one who wasn't sobbing, but my face was pale and throat dry. I didn't see why he had to leave. I just didn't.

Reluctantly, Mother released her grasp on Father and gently pried Norienne and Catriona away. "Come, children," she spoke in a wavering voice, "leave Father to his own. We shall pray for him every night." With much protest and tears, the three slowly walked back to our cottage. I was the last outside, leaving my father and me to speak quietly. I turned from the direction my mother and sisters had left and put my gaze back on my father, my eyes screaming, "Don't go. Please, just don't leave us all alone."

My father knelt down and put a soft hand on my shoulder. I saw his mouth twitch to speak, but no words fell out. His eyes scanned mine to try and look past the persistent wall I put up, but couldn't fight through it. Instead, he took a small and silent inhale. "Marienbard," he began slowly. "I… You know that I…" Noticing he was struggling to find his departing words, I spoke instead.

"Why? Why do you have to go all the way to Germany? Can't you just stay here and take care of us?" The knot in my throat made it hard for me to maintain a calm tone.

"You know I don't want to leave, Marienbard," he sighed, even though he had told me this too many times before. "But you have to be strong. There are going to be many things in life that you won't agree with, so you must just keep your chin up and keep an optimistic attitude."

Optimism wasn't in my vocabulary; it couldn't be, considering how hard my life already was with being scarcely fed, working aimlessly in the fields all day, and now being separated from my father, the man who had kept us all alive even when we were on the edge of death. My mother was a frail woman, so I just anticipated we would all die of starvation as soon as Father left. I clenched my fist.

"Then why can't we come with you? We could stay in a town nearby…an-and you could visit us when you weren't serving! Can't we just do that, Father?"

He frowned, yet I knew my words pained him. "Marienbard, you know that is something we are incapable of. And this employment is out of my league. I must leave for Germany and that is that. I will come back though."

If we aren't already deceased, I thought. Even if that was the case, for some reason I really doubted his return. I breathed in deeply, then nodded my head reluctantly, and my father stood, smiling weakly and patting my shoulder. "That's my girl. Be strong, now."

Those were Feidhelm O'Flaherty's last words to me before he left for Germany. I felt hot tears of anger sting in my eyes as his silhouette became smaller and smaller. I wiped my face with my sleeve and ran back to our miniscule cottage.

As soon as I stepped inside, my older sister, Catriona, started yelling at me. "Selfish!" She bellowed, and her words struck my heart like a white-hot blade. "Harsh! How dare you not shed tears at Father's departure!"

"Leave me alone!" I cried, squinting my eyes shut so she wouldn't see the pain in them. I tried to dash up the unsteady stairs to the attic to be solitude, but she stopped me.

"Alone – you always want to be alone!" Catriona grabbed my emerald-colored hair and started yanking it. I let out a small cry of anguish. "You always keep to yourself. Narcissism! That's what you are! Narcissistic!"

I heard Norienne begin to bawl in the background, and my mother paid no attention to our commotion, as she couldn't get over my father's absence. Unintentionally I turned and thrust my arms out in front of me; striking Catriona and making her fall down. Seeing my chance I forgot about the attic and dashed out of our house and into our seemingly unending barley fields, wanting to shut myself away from the world. From my family. From Catriona. Here I could utterly be alone, no matter what Catriona said.

I didn't stop running until my legs gave out. I knew that I had gone too deep into the field for my sisters to find me, for they had not the courage or the strength. As soon as I caught my breath, I began to sob. Were these the tears I had kept locked up when my father left? Or were they just ones in spite of my life? At the moment I was unsure, but nonetheless I cried till all the tears were gone; until I could cry no more.

Perhaps I was weeping in guilt of what Catriona had said to me. Guilt? That didn't seem right – the feeling was fiery… something more like envy. Yes – that was it – tears of envy.

I had always been jealous of Catriona. She was only four years older than me, yet very feminine and beautiful. Though we lived as slaves, Catriona still could maintain a look a lady would share; glossy, ginger hair, shining, green eyes, pink lips and cheeks, and her body type was that of an hourglass. Aside from her own natural beauty, Catriona would give me negative comments on my own, saying my shoulders were too broad and my chest flat. It angered me to the point where I no longer saw Catriona for a beautiful woman, but a cold-hearted maiden.

I pulled at my own hair as punishment for straying off into those thoughts. I came here to relax myself, had I not? Therefore I just needed to let it all out… I pulled my knees up to my chest and laid down on the no longer fertile soil, the frost lying on the earth tickling my skin. A cold breeze swept over my body which made my skin break out into gooseflesh, yet I closed my eyes as the chills caressed me in a grotesque way. The cold comforted me. I used to despise the winter season, as it made all of our barley wilt, yet now, as I know we have numbered days, it is a very close friend to me.

A fair amount of time passed before I got up, my body numb from the cold, and headed back to the cottage. No one would care where I had gone – perhaps if Father was still here they would. If only…

As I pushed the rotting door open it let out a loud moan, as if it were too old for its purpose anymore. I stepped inside, and Norienne came running to me, surprisingly.

"Marienbard!" she cried. "Marienbard! Marienbard… please help…" Norienne began to bawl, which was a sight I hated to see. As she was my younger sister by three years, I felt as though I had to protect her – and it also felt like she was the only one who cared about me.

I crouched down and placed a hand on her small shoulder. "What is it? Please don't cry…"

"I-It's Mother…" Norienne tried to swallow her sobs, but had difficulty with it.

"Mother? What's happened?"

"She just won't stop crying… it's like there's nothing in the world for her anymore… ever since Father left…"

With Norienne's words I sprinted into my mother's room. There she was, sprawled out on our dirt floor, sobbing her dear eyes out. Catriona seemed to be trying to take care of Mother, but she paid no heed to her words. She just moaned and bellowed my father's name.

"Feidhelm!" My mother's words were a plea. "Feidhelm!"

I breathed in deeply and tried to speak over my mother's fit with my trembling voice; "Father said he would come back. He promised."

She only continued her mourning. Catriona glared at me.

"I already told her that. Imbecile! Don't you see that everything you try to do just makes it worse?"

Catriona had made a direct stab into my soul with that phrase. My sight became fogged with useless tears, and my fists clenched so tightly that I drew blood.

"I HATE YOU!" I screamed, catching everyone off-guard – even my mother fell silent. "I HATE IT HERE! WITH FATHER GONE WE'LL ALL JUST DROP DEAD BY TOMORROW! TRY TO UNDERSTAND THE PAIN I'M GOING THROUGH RIGHT NOW! PLEASE!"

Having my thoughts fallen off my chest, I ran outside again – yet this time I wasn't going to speak to the cold. I ran into our vine-covered ruin we called a barn and grabbed a scythe. My father had used this to harvest all of our barely, and for some reason it came by to me as most enchanting. I worked for endless hours and days, using the scythe and practicing my father's techniques, and also used it to defend myself against a wild beast as I was strolling aimlessly through the forest one day. I dared not to go back since. For a while it had lied dormant, but at this moment I needed it.

Why did I need that scythe? I needed it for survival, because I was going to Germany.

Author's Note:

Sorry! First few chapters are crummy. PLEASE trust me - IT GETS SO MUCH BETTER :D