1
"Yoshu," Quek said to me, pointing out to my family's farmland barren of my brother and father.
I shook my head as the two of us worked our way to the field's fence to cross it. That's what he meant; it was strange they weren't there at this time of day. After some time had passed since we swiftly scaled the wood fence, I tried to explain to Quek my best rationing.
"I bet they needed something in the village."
Quek was only a year younger than I, but he easily outweighed my by seventy five pounds. I stole a glance at my lifelong friend; his red hair had grown out of control again.
We walked past the stable and approached our home. The scent of burning pine motioned me to search the chimney. Mother was cooking something, during the middle of the day! Something like this could only mean we had guests. I felt a strong erge to roughhouse with my cousins, since my father's sister's family was our usual guests. The front door was open just a crack, meaning Mother had been cooking for some time. There wasn't the usual relieve from the blazing sun as we entered.
"There, the shorter one. Tha's my boy. You see? Built like the best of 'em!"
Father was drinking, meaning our guests were not family; Father saved all his spirits for the absolute special occasions.
All the windows were opened to the bright outside, filling the cottage with plenty sufficient light. In front of Father a rather leathered man turned to look at me. I didn't recognize him from the village; neither did Quek who tapped me wondering if he was family. We met eyes and I shook my head.
"I see, I see," the man acknowledged. "And you say he is seventeen?"
"Yes, I know, it's a tad late to start a good proper trainin' but Yoshu learns exceedingly well! The brightest one o' family!" His cheeks flesh.
"Father?" I asked no more, in fear of insulting this man should I be expected to know him.
"Ah, boy, come 'ere! Your future depends on it!" he said, raising his hands and spilling a bit from his mug in the process.
I looked at Mother who was fanning some muffins fresh from the iron oven.
An absolute special occasion indeed.
I did as I was instructed, leaving Quek by the gaping door confused. I shrugged to him; I didn't want him to leave.
The leathered bald man stood up, circling me,
"Yes, the life at the farm has served his body well. Remarkable the amount of muscle on his frame. Still, the matter of age makes his acceptance gloom."
The drunken twinkle in Father's eyes diminished, but he fought on.
"He's been hunting with Quek for years, always marksman kills. Yoshu is the most obedient young man you'll ever meet! NO matter the order, he will do it, NO questions asked!" I locked eyes with father, was he trying to sell me?
I dropped my gaze before Father would think I was protesting. What the hell was going on?
"He's too strong for a gunner or archery, no; he'd be far more useful up close."
The man dug into his cloke, retrieving two sabers which he tossed at me. In half panic, half pure reaction, I managed to catch both by the handle at the same time.
"Sir?" I asked, unsure what to do.
"Well, Yoshu, give them a whirl!" The alcohol starting to sink into him as well.
As a boy, like all boys, I fought with other boys. Sometimes out of anger, but usually we fought for fun. As we grew bored with wrestling, we picked up sticks. Though these metal killers were much heavier than a tree branch, I was no idiot to handle them.
I swung them around, pretending to attack an invisible target. I jumped back, parried, and then lunged forward in an experienced attack. The blades sang a metal hum as I whipped them through the air.
After my display, Father clapped his hands together.
"You see? That was bloody perfect! A natural hun'er!"
Hunter? Hunter! No...That couldn't be it! Could it? Ice ran through my veins,
"A Hunter?" I asked.
The man nodded, "An explanation is rightfully due, Yoshu. You see, I met your father at the pub in... The village-"
"Gepqul," My father butted in, excitement overtaking him.
"-Yes, Gepqul pub. Young man, we began to talk, talked of my profession. I'm a trainer, a hunter trainer in Miroluk. Your father insisted I surveyed you, said you were made for greatness. So here I am, and I think I have my mind now."
He glanced at Father, whose expression was that of a toddler receiving candy.
The man looked at me again, "Lad, what's your take? Does a hunter's life suit you?"
Father gave me a look that said, IT BETTER DAMN BE SO!
I needed no pushing, since I only dreamed of becoming a hunter my whole life!
I nodded, "Yes, always has!"
He laughed as he slapped me on the back, "Then, what are you waiting for? Pack your things, snap to!"
I bounded towards my quarters, and then stopped dead.
Quek. No way in hell I could leave him.
"Yoshu, go." he said, grim faced.
"Quek-" I started.
"Who do we have here? That bull your son as well?" The man asked Father, who returned the question with a dumbfounded stare.
"No sir, I am a friend. My family lives just down the path." he said, pointing to his left.
"Well, hurry along and fetch them! I might as well take you too; won't find a bigger lad anywhere!"
Father had done well, getting this man drunk.
Quek's face was pure radiance of joy; he stumbled as he dashed out the door and pounded down the dirt road home.
I entered my space, pulling a tattered bag from under my clothing and began the process of filling it with all my possessions.
When I returned a few moments later, I caught Vahne and Father arguing,
"-But Father! I am stronger! I have killed twice that of Yoshu!"
"Vahne, your brother is better suited by age and just barely. Now is not the time to detest me, Son! This is bigger than you, than our family!"
"-Father!" Vahne started a second time.
"Vahne! You'd be dead before you could blink with that leg!" Father spat out, then simmered when he realized what he said.
Vahne, my older brother by four years, was born with a leg that functioned improper. Vahne always tried to prove himself equal to everyone, but he still couldn't run much. Growing up, it was the source of heated fights. Vahne was a fighter, but his body had failed him from birth. A shame, but he was still very strong and useful on the farm. He knows he couldn't ever be a hunter, so why was he insisting he goes as well?
Vahne looked as if he was to start again, but Father raised his hand. My brother noticed me at the doorway, his gaze followed by the others in the room.
I could feel his hatred for me burning into the back of my skull, never have I seen him like this.
Wordless, Vahne limped out the door just as the winded body of Quek hurtled through the door.
Unaware of the vehement, Quek hunched over and pointed towards the old man,
"See? There is the man! He wants me too! Mother! Father! I can be a hunter!"
Even more breathless was Quek's parents, who were younger than my own. They hurriedly made their way to the old man and gratefully shook his hand.
"Oh! Sir, you have a heart of gold! The poverty you've saved my son; our sons from could never be repaid!"
The old man laughed, drinking in more spirit,
"Agh, blastpheme! Y-" he hiccupped, "You! You were the ones to bare such men to this world! It is only right they become heroes to this hell of a village!"
I looked at Father, then to Quek's. They would normally never stand for such insults, but they seemed as though they never heard it.
By the time Quek and I left with the old man, which we still didn't know the name of, it was dusk. The leathered coon slept in the back of his cart among his possessions as Quek and I steered the pull horse. He had pointed to the path to the right with a drunken, "tha's 'eh 'ay m' boys!" For hours we sat in silence as the brown horse clobbered on. The shock of what just happened still fresh in our systems.
By nightfall, we had set camp with a steady fire roasting a rabbit Quek had snared within moments of the attempt. Luck truly was with us today.
The man stirred,
"What in tar nation are you eating? There, just there! Eat to your content."
He was asleep in the following moment as Quek and I rationed out the food in the leather bag he motioned to. We spread some odd green goo onto flatbread and were amazed by how the simple meal tasted! Soon, the eyes grew heavy and we hunkered down by the fire, stirred by the occasional grunts of the old man.
Quek was the first to wake; he snuffed out the smoking remains of the fire as I stretched. For a second I had no idea where I was and why I was so moist. I quickly realized I was in the forest covered in morning dew. The sun peeked dimly through the trunk abjured horizon.
Once we were packed and set to go, the two of us stared at the still sleeping man who had just rewrote our lives.
"Eh, you wake him." I said to Quek.
"What? No! You do it! Your idea." he replied, stepping back.
I shut my eyes and nodded. I hope this ends well...
"Sir," I said, shaking him gently, then with a bit of vigor when he didn't awake. "Sir, we should continue on our way. Sir!"
He opened one eye, and then caught sight of me.
"AHHHH! Aaahhhh!" he scrambled back to the cart and hoisted himself up while recovering. In a moment he seemed to understand why he was with us.
"What?" Quek asked.
He looked at us, and then scowled, "OH GOD DAMN IT! I should have never accepted that ale! What the hell did I do?"
I looked at Quek who was as unsettled as I was,
"Sir?" I asked, cautious, "Sir, by what do you mean?"
"Why are you here?" He shouted then flinched, obviously hung-over.
"Sir?" Quek asked, still frozen in place.
He old man looked like he could strangle him at any second.
"Sir, you are taking us to train as hunters. In Miroluk; you said you could make us hunters."
Silence
Slowly as he remembered, his expression became dark.
"Go home. NOW!"
"Sir?" Quek asked, but I waved him off.
"Sir, you promised-" I started
"I don't care what I said, I was drunk!" he yelled, clutching his forehead.
No one said anything for a while, the two of us unsure on how to approach the situation. There was no way I would let my fortune be taken from me; from us!
"Who are you?" I asked, and then cringed as the old man wound up again.
"FOR THE LIFE OF ME! You don't know me and you think I'm going to make something of your pathetic peasant lives?"
For the first time since his drunken yesterday, the old man laughed,
"Deranged, I tell ya!"
Quek and I waited for him to tell us.
He stared from Quek to me, and then shook his head, "Verl Awstborn. Head instructor."
My heart sank; we were never going to be hunters now.
The old man calmed, "Look lads, I wasn't in my sane mind. I'm sorry to have made such a stir in your families' lives. But I really must be on my way, and you two must head home."
I stood there, staring off. I could make this work...The old man wasn't the one who accepted the students, it was the Miroluk Guild. Even though the old man, Verl, was quite high in status it was still up to the guild to accept us. We couldn't have gotten in. Unless...
The old man hopped into the driving seat of the wagon, Quek and I standing to its left.
"Boys, I'm sorry. But I can't, you know that."
He slapped the rains and the horse pushed forward. We walked after him, losing ground slowly.
"Amazing, Quek." I said, staring at the man who had his back to us, "The head instructor drunk in a shit-hole village like Gepqul, what an amazing story this will make."
The old man heard it, as I intended,
"Good luck with that being held as truth, lads" he said over his shoulder.
"Shouldn't be too hard with these, right?" I said after him, removing his twin sabers from my over coat.
He looked back and was awestruck by the sight of his glimmering weapons in my up stretched hands.
I grinned, "Wow, Quek, the Instructor drunk and stolen from. Must not be a very good warrior, huh?"
Without looking at us, he stopped the cart,
"Get in the fucking cart."