"One."

An obligatory thud followed the number.

The harsh call sounded no less striking than a sergeant drilling his soldiers. The boy holding the shaking bow didn't have to assume, he'd heard plenty of military regimes many a time whilst hidden behind rocks. They were usually a precursor to screaming and destruction.

"Two."

The wind was obstructing his uneasy aim. He blamed the weather for his unsteady hands, his long hair for not being able to see the target, anything other than admitting his failures. But he knew he could never voice those excuses, not unless he wanted a thrashing.

Another thud followed, even the arrow sounded limp, wimpy. No matter how hard he tried not to, he winced away.

"Three."

Was this sergeant, Chief Jorran, sounding a little bit...exasperated?

The boy looked up at the warrior as carefully as he could without looking like he was taking his eye off the target. He carried himself tall, muscular and proud, a true chieftain. The little boy's back straightened at just the sight of it. His chopped black hair, usually flat other than a small tuft of a quiff at the front, was ruffling in the wind. Then the boy's gaze made it to the chieftain's expression and his shoulders sank again. The man's mouth was pulled down and pressed together tightly, making the dimple on his chin stand out.

He was disappointed, and it shot through the little archer crueler than any barbed arrow.

"Cael!"

The boy jumped like a baby deer. He was skewered into place by the chief's piercing blue eyes, forgetting that those should be familiar to his own. Cael hurriedly looked back to his bow and his target. How was it possible to want to succeed and fail so badly at the same time? With quivering arms he pulled back his shoulders and did both. He drew the string and let fly the strongest arrow he'd ever shot, but did so blind.

There was an immediate sigh from the chieftain and all the sudden fire that had lit up in the boy flickered out into a meek vapor. He opened his eyes to find the source of the disappointment and saw the three targets before him. All his arrows had hit them, but not one of them came close to the centre ring.

Three quick arrows suddenly hit the centre targets, each thud was a painful reminder of what he should have done.

Cael felt a strong shove in his side, not enough to topple him but enough to send a clear enough message. He was not wanted in Helvi's limelight. She looked down at him with an overconfident smirk, "Maybe when Oblivion happens you'll be able to aim straight."

Though he could not win the fight she was bracing for, there was one thing he could do. He narrowed his eyes and gave her a cold stare. The same as his father often gave him. Slowly she backed away, edging further away from him muttering: "freak."

Cael smiled, just to add more fear into the cocky little huntress's heart and because the thrill of watching her crumble over eye contact was his personal warfare.

"Uh, um. Look, Chief!" The archer called out proudly, turning her attention away from Cael. His grin went wider as her feat had failed to attract the Chief's attention. Her young chest puffed out proudly and coal black hair braided away from her face flew back in the wind. She'd managed three bulls-eyes in three seconds despite the conditions. A quick glance from the Chief trampled any joy the young boy gained with a sour expression.

"Don't leave your arrows in the targets, Helvi." Was the only thing the Chief said to her.

Helvi rolled her eyes and dramatically stomped over to the targets. She whipped out her arrows and strode out past, her chin in the air. Though that didn't stop her sticking her tongue out at Cael as she passed him.

After she left he could only stare at the dents her arrows had left in the hay. They should have been his marks. "Father I'm sorry, I've practised, really-"

"Enough." Jorran snapped curtly. He sighed, fixing his gaze on the targets in shame. "We all know this isn't your strongest area, that is why we must make it strong. You will be ten soon, then twenty. What happens if you need to bring down a Nord? Your weedy muscles couldn't begin to fight before he reached your throat. Or your mother's, or Robin's! What if-"

"Jorran!" A bloodied moustached hunter cried as he thundered into the training area. He shot the boy a few uncertain glances before deciding that business was far more important than discretion and ignored Cael completely. "Blind Cliff. They're trying to take it again. Jacyn's dead." He panted. He looked like he'd just run uphill through twenty thorn bushes, but most Forsworn did.

The Chief scowled and darted away in alarm at the same time. He took one bound to follow his hunter out of the clearing, but then he skidded on his heel as he remembered his son. "We'll continue this later. After you've practised."

"But…" The boy trailed off. It was no use to protest, Jorran just looked at him skeptically and hurriedly followed the hunter to the war tent.

The failed arrows were quietly gathered and dispensed into the quiver that leaned against the side of one of the targets. No small amount of sighs came from him as he did so and trails were left in the dirt from feet that dragged as he left. The foot with the open-toed sandal soon regretted that.

"Somebody made the daddy grumpyyyy!" A singsong voice trilled as he walked out into the tents of the village.

He glanced around to see a bob of brown hair shorter than his own framing a permanently innocent face. An infuriating one that always got her out of trouble. Cael shrugged, keeping his mouth shut tight in humiliation.

"You failed the archery test... again." The girl emphasised and fell in step beside him.

The boy scowled at her, snorting and tossing the bow to her. Daring her to do better.

It threw her off guard, she juggled the bow before dropping it in the mud unceremoniously. "I don't need a bow when I can kill you faster than an arrow!" She harrumphed.

He tilted his head to the side, "really?"

"Yeah." Robin crossed her arms and pouted, then her expression turned wicked. She started crouching and sneaking elaborately around him. "I circle around my kill, making sure they don't have no way out."

His blasé appearance was getting harder to keep up as he became more disconcerted with her advancing. With one strike her hand darted out like a lightning bolt and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

More than one head poked out of the tents as the boy squawked louder than a downtrodden rabbit. His shoulders immediately hunched up as far as they could go and he tried to duck away but it was too late; Robin already had him in a death hold. Then she began to tickle him.

"No! No, no Robin! No- nyahahaha," He protested through screams of giggles lashing out before falling to roll on the floor.

Robin laughed menacingly as his refusals dissolved into pure laughter. He lay on the floor in a weak, giggling ball as Robin still had a hold on his neck. As the chortles began to fade she relented; Robin was victorious once more.

But the chieftain in training was not one to be underestimated. His hand darted out and caught her ankle, yanking her feet out from under her. He grinned wolfishly. Now was the time for his revenge! He pinned her down and proceeded to tickle under her armpits until she was smacking the ground in utter surrender.

"Cael, I can't breathe! I'm gonna wee!" She screeched.

"Out the way, skeevers." A grizzled warrior grumbled as he nudged the screeching duo aside, attempting to jog along with arms full of weapons, ammunition and armour that reached his chin. They were sent rolling down the slope of the village in a frenzied wrestling match of kicking and tickling.

The children rolled unceremoniously to the side, panting as their laughs faded into smiles. They watched for how many items the warrior would drop before he got to the chieftain's tent. He really began to struggle up the small hill.

"Duck." The boy uttered as a helmet clattered down towards them. He dipped his head in order to avoid its path only to let it clock Robin in the face.

"Ow!" She protested indignantly at him for not taking the blow. After a few seconds of checking her nose she just grinned and rubbed the mark off, not being one to bruise so easily.

Cael smirked. "They never wear helmets. Something's happening." He mused as he picked up the winged steel head, examining the steel and watching his own reflection in the shiny metal. Robin had picked herself up and was looking at it just as curiously when it was plucked out of his hands.

"Or we just need it to hold all the berries you keep eating out of my stocks each week." An older voice teased, he looked up to see his mother's best friend and the village's wisewoman smiling down at them.

"Eshne, it's not me!" He protested, a furious blush crossing his face as he pointed at the girl next to him. Robin just turned on the big, bush baby eyes to full on innocent.

"Right, of course not." Eshne chuckled and shook her head. "Go to your mother, she wants to see you. Oh Robin dear, stop trying to poison the Briarheart's stew with carrot peelings. Carrot isn't poisonous."

Robin scoffed and crossed her arms. "It is when Blacwin does it, they reek! And how can they make eyesight betterer when he's as blind as a bat at forty?!"

Eshne just sighed, patting the little girl's head. "Just... stay away from the hunters, you two, they're… busy right now. We all are." She took her leave and headed towards the war tent, holding the helmet like a basket as the crook of her hip was stuffed with several creepy-looking ingredients.

The boy watched her progress to the tent without a hint of the smile that Robin had.

"You know," She started as she sidled up to him, speaking more gently than usual. "I don't think you need to worry about the archery anyway. Everybody knows it, a chieftain needs to know more useful things." He looked at her with a shadow of a grateful smile on his face, then her gentle tone vanished with a grin. "Like the art of stabby stabby!" She proceeded to poke him in his ticklish areas and he began to laugh again. She chased him all the way to his mother's tent.

"Ain't no way no chieftain is ever gonna get away from me!" Robin cried as they were getting dangerously close to sprinting face-first into one of the tents, cornering him in the mouth of his home.

The boy flashed a wicked grin over his shoulder and responded by grabbing one of the tents' flaps and rolling himself into it as she flew past. The unexpected move had Robin's momentum carry her on, her eyes so preoccupied with his gloating grin that she didn't notice the tree she ran face first into.

He began to chortle, snorting as Robin slid down the tree. It was cut short by a delicate hand clamping down on to his shoulder from the shadows of the tent. A willowy voice cleared her throat chidingly. Robin crawled over from where she'd fallen back on her bottom to eagerly watch him get in trouble, wiping the tiny stream of blood trickling from her nose with the back of her hand, proceeding to smear it on her face. Then they both looked up at the woman's face and gulped.

"Robin, you used so many negatives in that sentence I do not know where to begin. Did you remember nothing from our lessons?" She chided, sighing and spitting on her fingers to wipe the blood off Robin's face.

"Uh, no, I didn't not… Not, not not?" Robin sheepishly retorted, attempting to be clever but getting lost in her own words. She wriggled around in the woman's firm grasp at being cleaned, scrunching up her face in displeasure.

The woman giggled. "Just speak properly, my dear, leave the wordplay for Brannan."

Robin smirked and beamed up at her. "Yes, ma'am!" She chirped but intentionally mumbled her vowels so it sounded like "mum." It made them both smile a little wider.

Then the hand on Cael's shoulder tightened and his relaxed eyes popped wide open. "As for you!" The woman chastised fondly and turned around to kneel in front of him to reach his level like she had so many times before. She was caught off guard by how the position only made her have to look up to reach his eyes instead. "What have I told you about using the tactics your father teaches you on your friends?"

"Sorry, mother." He responded with just the right amount of guilt and remorse required. None of them missed the mischievous glance he gave Robin right before he said it.

"Especially not your foster sister!" She enthused in the cutesy tone reserved for children as she drew them both in for a hug. He frowned, she hadn't used that tone for years now. He returned the hug just as eagerly as them but was even more alarmed as he heard a shake in his mother's breath. Robin noticed it too, she curled her head into his mother's chest in order to convey a frown to him. They followed the woman's gaze over their heads but she pulled away from them before they could see who was approaching. He could swear her body had jolted in a sob just before.

Their suspicions didn't last long as the figure was fast in its approach, in full battle gear no less. She pulled them both to a stand next to her.

"Adilia." The figure greeted her warmly. As soon as he got past the blinding sunlight, however, they could see it sadly didn't translate to his face, which was stoic and grim.

"Jorran." Adilia replied hesitantly, the exchanging of names indicated that something was very wrong.

"We're going to Blind Cliff." He said, his voice cool but laid heavily with hints. Adilia replied to none of them, but her hand tightened around her son's.

"We?" She asked, innocently clueless.

Jorran sighed at that and looked to the skies. "Blind Cliff needs all the sword-arms it can get. He's ready, Adilia, I saw it in him this morning."

The boy stared at him in stunned shock. Adilia's eyes were wide, but quickly her expression turned to outrage. She dropped both children's hands instantly and stepped towards her husband.

"How can you say that? How? Stuhn have mercy, he is not even ten! Forget sixteen!"

"You know our customs are different to the ones you grew up with." He reminded her.

"But this is my son, OUR son! I don't know what you're planning in that head of yours but I don't quite want to give him up yet!" Adilia snapped, waving her hands at him in wide, furious gestures.

Robin sent looks of sympathy to her foster brother at the ensuing argument and Jorran relented as he caught sight of them. "It's not like he wouldn't be safe. He wouldn't be out of my sight for one second! The fighting will be over before he can hear it."

"You just said that they need every sword-arm they can get." Adilia folded her arms, drumming her nails on her forearm impatiently.

"You know what I mean. He needs to see this, why we fight these bastar… men every day. What's happening at Blind Cliff, you know people there-"

"You do not need to tell me what is happening there!" She snapped. If her son looked up at a certain angle he could see that her eyes were watering.

"Then you know why he must go with me?" Jorran asked, he was the tentative one now.

She paused, sniffing deeply, and rubbing her forehead with slender fingers. Trying to make it look like she was making her decision rather than crying. "He'll be safe?"

"Well," Jorran smiled wryly. "The boy will be with me."

She smirked slightly at that. Her shoulders slumped and went from crossing her arms to hugging her waist. She could only muster a small nod of affirmation, biting her lip as she stepped aside.

He approached the children, about to lead their son away when she suddenly darted forward. Adilia cupped a hand around Jorran's ear and fervently whispered something. Her teary doe eyes couldn't help but glance at Cael, taking Jorran's wrist in a vice grip and leading his hand to the hilt of his sword as she did. Their puzzled son wouldn't figure it out for many, many years. She hoped he never would.

Jorran nodded in response to her message, murmuring something in return as their eyes locked in sincerity. Adilia's crafted mask quivered and finally cracked. She flung her arms around Jorran's neck in a lock of an embrace. Quickly but firmly he kissed her on the lips, knotting his fingers in her feathery blonde hair. What seemed like decades of authority and age faded from his face as he held her, but alas, it was brief. As they pulled away Adilia transferred her affection, turning to her son she kissed his forehead and quickly hugged him as if she would never release him. "Go with your father, I'll see you later." She whispered in his ear and gave him an unusually wonky smile.

When she let him go Jorran stepped forward as the child looked between both parents to try and figure out what was going on.

"Cael." He held a hand out toward his son to herd him out of the tent..

Adilia watched them leave with no small amount of melancholy, but then she remembered the other child still present and turned to her perkily. "Come on," She smiled and took Robin's hand. "What apprentice of Eshne would I be if I didn't teach you what the real poisons were?"

That was the day Robin learnt which parent Cael really got his mischievous spark from.

A/N

The brilliant cover photo of Cael is by SRM's friend and artist, Avis. On deviantart she goes by schl4fmuetze. A countless amount of thanks to her for doing this adorable drawing for me! You'll see for yourself by visiting her page that her work never wavers from this level of pure quality. :)