Hello…
New story/ First story to ever put up on Fanfiction.
Yeah… I don't know either to be honest.
T: For some mild language.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem/ Awakening. If I did, they would all have feet. No exceptions.
. . . . .
Plegia. It left a bad taste in my mouth even now.
Even many years after the war with Ylisse, things were pretty horrible over there. With barely any food to feed two people, let alone a family of five.
My father did his best. Even fought in the war that he didn't even believe in, just so he could feed and provide for his family. He was a true hero in my eye, not like the king. One who sends men to die, for the sake of a long dead dragon god of all things, is no hero.
But, as many heroes of legend, they die, leaving many who they saved in their wake. My mother took it the worst, locking herself in her room crying, screaming in denial that my father wasn't dead.
My sister Tharja, was to young to understand what had happened, while I just felt my world shatter into a million pieces. My father, a brave, righteous man, was dead.
How can a man so kind and good be killed by another, how can my father, so unbeatable in my young eyes, fall like cattle to the slaughter.
But life is cruel, and as I read the letter my mother dropped in shock, I could nearly hear my fathers spirit tell me what must be done.
Fight, for I now pass my mantle to you… Jonah, my son.
For many years, I would think back to that moment, and wonder if it really was him who spoke to me. While my world shattered, he put me back together with those simple words, he gave me a goal to achieve.
And with the Gods as my witnesses. I will fight, and strive to become a man just like my father.
With resolve and sadness in my heart, I went to the local butcher two days later, and told him that I would bring him meat in exchange for food and money. The butcher, a rather round man, just looked at me and laughed. He said that he had no need for hunters, that he just had to trade for salted cuts of meat that were brought over from the main cites.
I begged him to give me a chance, that I had to feed my sister and mother at home, since my father was killed in the war.
The butcher just looked at me with pity. He told me that the war was hard on everybody, and that my circumstances were common among the people. He told me to get lost as I was scaring away his customers, although he did apologize for what my family was going through, he wished me luck on my quest to fill in the void my father left behind and told me I was much to young to try and take on that kind of responsibility, at least without help.
So I left and started to go to other places where they might accept a seven year old brat.
Cut with a Carpenter.
"Sorry, but sharp blades are nothing to mess with kid."
Walked with a Merchant.
"Get lost kid, can't you see that your need to be smart for this? I bet a brat like you can't even count yet, let alone help run business. Scram, I need to get back to work."
Tangled with a Weaver.
"I'm sorry hon', but I barely make enough to support myself. Try another time, okay?"
And got laughed at by the Guards.
"You can barely lift one of our practice swords. How the hell do you think you could be part of the army?"
All of them turned me down.
With my mother still drowning in her grief, I even resorted to sealing food from the market place just to feed myself and my sister. I always put some food in front of her door, and come morning it would always still be there, completely untouched.
With the days going by one by one, and my mother cut off from me and my sister, I grew desperate for a way to support my family. Everyday I went to the market place, pick pocketing others so I could buy some bread and a skin of water.
My sister, to young to chew her own food, had to eat bread I chewed up for her. I had to change her clothes whenever they got covered in filth, and washed with what little water I could get with my stolen money. I had to put her asleep every night because our mother would not come out no matter how hard I pleaded to her. The door always remained locked, it's faded wood always between us.
It was during these times that I hated my mother, leaving her own children to fend for themselves. With no help coming from her, and having a hungry toddler to feed, I continued to steal, I also kept going to different places looking for any sort of work.
It was a week later that I discovered my mother was dead. The people who took the body later told me that she died from shock, most likely from a great trauma or immense emotional response.
With me now truly and utterly alone in my quest, I went through my mother's things hoping that I could sell anything for some quick gold.
Its not like she would be using it anymore.
. . . . .
Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. The gold I got from my mother's possessions was starting to run out, and I had to go back to stealing from others.
Summer was coming and the Plegian dessert grew hellishly hot, my sister was crying for water and I could barely provide. With desperation fueling my steps I went through my father's possessions to see if I could sell his things as well.
It was when I was doing this, was how I found what would be my father's greatest gift he could ever provide.
A bow. Nearly my size and made of sturdy wood, reinforced with iron and leather. It had a string made of silk and rawhide, and a quiver beside it. With arrows made of wood and feathers, tipped with razor sharp iron arrowheads. It was so beautiful that I couldn't sell it with the rest. Instead I kept it and started to teach myself how to use it while I wasn't busy raising my sister, or stealing for a living.
It was hard at first. Me barely able to pick it up, let alone draw back the string. But I soldiered on, and trained in the flat plains near my house. I shot at makeshift targets made of dead wood and unwanted cloth, and sharpened the arrow heads with stones found on the ground during my daily thefts.
Of course, I also took care of my sister. Fed her when she got hungry and clothed her when she got cold. She only had me to rely on after all, and I tried my hardest to be the best brother I could.
This was our life during the war. Our parents were dead, and us left to rot on a corner, but we continued to live. Me as a thief in training, and my sister as a toddler. For a year this was our daily life, me going out to steal money and food, and her staying at home a bit grumpy.
However, this would not last as we both grew older, our needs grew as well. My system of stealing for a living was not enough anymore to support a now four year old girl and an eight year old boy.
I still continued my training with my father's bow, I was even able to hit my makeshift target's bullseye consistently now. With this skill of mine, I decided to go through with my word I made to the butcher nearly a year ago.
It was time to go hunting.
. . . . .
It was hot in the flat plains of Plegia.
With the sun beating down on my back and dry winds blowing the cape of my tattered hood. I walked through the endless plain of dead grass and sand, searching for any kind of game.
Not long after crossing a particularity green patch of grass, or however green you can get in a dessert, I spotted what appeared to be a herd of deer.
I found them behind a little hill that gave way to a steep valley, it looked like the earth had simply gave way and left a giant hole in the middle of the plains.
They had tiny heads with majestic horns that sat proudly atop of it's head, it also had a black strip outlined by white fur running across it's back.
It was exactly what I was looking for.
One such creature was sitting down on an elevated rock, it's head was down and appeared to be resting. It's body gently going up and down.
An easy shot from where I was standing.
I pulled off my Father's bow from its resting place across my back, and drew an arrow from my quiver that sat on my waist. Nocking it in place, I drew back the string and leveled my sights on the deer.
Aiming for the heart, I let the arrow fly.
My aim was true and not moment later, the beast laid dead.
The herd went into a panicked frenzy and I simply waited for the dust to clear, once it did, I walked toward my kill to claim my prize. My heart was pounding in my ears as I got closer, and once I was upon my kill, what I did hit me with full force.
Near my feet lay a dead carcass, a once beautiful beast robbed of it's life for the life of another. I don't know how long I stood there, staring at the kill.
My kill.
The sun was high in the sky when I finally snapped out of it. The sent of death coming from my kill was more noticeable, and I wondered why another predator hasn't come along to steal my kill yet.
I stared for a bit longer, than got closer so I could pick it up.
The beast was heavy, almost to heavy for my eight year old arms to bare. But one does not simply pull back a bowstring without some muscle to do it. So I slung it over my shoulder, picked up my father's… or rather, my bow, drank from my skin of water, and began the trek home.
. . . . .
By the time I got back to my village, it was late in the afternoon and the sky was turning red as the sun got closer to the horizon.
The first person to see me was a random stranger, the face he made when he saw an eight year old child carrying a deer twice his size was a face I will never forget. A perfect combination of disbelief, awe, and amusement. Many more gave me that look when I walked through the village, not believing that a scrawny little kid like me could hunt, let alone use the bow and arrow I carried.
With the butcher shop in my sights, I walked a bit faster so I could get this done and over with. I know I left Tharja with one of our neighbors, but I can't help be feel like something may happen if I'm not there with her.
I opened the door and walked in with my catch. The butcher was not at the counter when I opened the door, so I put the carcass down and waited for him to show up.
Sometime later after fiddling with my thumbs I got impatient and started to pace the length of the shop.
Come on, where is he? I've been waiting for ten minutes now. It can't take that long to notice that I'm here right?
With nothing better to do and with the sent of a fresh carcass starting to make me a bit queasy. I walked behind the counter and into the back of the shop.
When I walked in I expected to smell meat, or blood, or something that the back of a butcher would smell like. Instead, there was only empty meat hooks and clean knifes on the counters, with only a few dried blood stains here and there.
Within the quite spacious room, I saw the butcher himself. Looking at a wooden crate quite intensely.
Feeling a bit ticked off on how he ignored me in favor of a wooden crate, I spoke up. "You know, you could lose quite a bit of customers for not being at the counter when they need you." He jumped a bit with my outburst, did he not hear me come in?
Huh… Guess being a amatuer thief has some side affects.
Awesome.
"Gods!" He turned around to face me. "You there, what are you doing here? Get out! Only I'm allowed back here brat. Get!"
Feeling satisfied by my petty act, I obliged and went back to the front, with him following in my footsteps.
"Alright I'm at the counter, you happy?" He looked a bit annoyed when he said that.
I looked at him with an annoyed glare of my own.
"Um, no. Not really." I told him.
I tilted my head towards the carcass. "Can you really not smell the dead deer right next to you?"
With my not so subtle clue as to why I was in his shop, he looked at the deer in question. "Sorry kid. Just used to the smell ya know." He offered sheepishly, "Right, Where's your dad so I can get this beauty ready to eat?"
"He's dead."
With that rather blunt statement, he asked. "Uh… Your mother then?"
"Also dead." How dense is this guy?
That got him to sputter. "Uh… Um… Then who killed the deer?"
Dense as a mountain. "Are you serious, he's talking to you."
He looked down at me with a clearly disbelieving expression. "Right, look I'm a very busy man," Busy enough to stare at a box for ten minutes. "And I'm right in the middle of something, so go get your parent and let me do my job."
I simply stared at him with an incredulous expression and held up my bow without breaking a sweat. "Look, I really can't deal with this right now, so could you just take the damn deer and give me the gold. I need to get back home to check up on my sister."
He just stared at me and sighed. "Alright look, I'll give ya two gold per pound and when you tell me who's kill you stole, I'll consider not sending some guards your way, m'kay?"
I frowned and muttered under my breath. "Why don't you believe me?" It's not like I steal dead animals on a regular basis.
Food doesn't count right?
Apparently my muttering wasn't as quiet as I thought when he said. "I don't believe you 'cus you're only like what, six?"
"Eight."
"Eight," He amended. "And you're telling me that you killed an animal almost twice your size and dragged it back here alone?"
"…"
When he says it like that its kinda hard to argue. I wouldn't believe me either.
"Look," How do I say this? "I can prove to you that it was me who hunted and killed that deer."
How?
"How?" Dammit.
Uh… "I could bring in another one tomorrow?"
The butcher just looked at me and said. "How would I know that you were the one that shot it?"
I dunno, you can come with me or… Ah ha!
"You can mark one of my arrows, and I'll kill it with that arrow." Genius!
The butcher looked thoughtful about my suggestion and I got my hopes up. "K'ay, I'll trust ya on this and give you full pay on that deer of yours, five gold per pound." He pulled out a scale from the back, and I accepted the offered amount and smiled.
Nice, 800G in one deer. Not bad.
Following my part of the deal, I handed him one of my arrows and he chipped a small Ointo the wood. "There we go. Nice and clear." He handed me back the marked arrow. "I'll expect you around this time tomorrow, if you ain't here by then, well. Lets just say that the guards here don't take to kindly to thieves round these parts."
With his warning delivered loud and clear. I left with my spoils and went to my neighbor's house to pick up Tharja.
I paid them for taking care of her and with me carrying her on my back, left to go back home.
I guess I'll call this day a success. Even though I'll have to skip stealing anything tomorrow to make my new found deadline.
Joy.
. . . . .
It was still hot in the Plegian plains. Who would of guessed.
Even with the sun barely peeking out of the horizon, The heat was still ever present. I tightened the clasps around my hood as the dry winds blew across the very empty plains as I trekked onward in search of game.
The arrow that the butcher marked was clutched in my right hand, ready to be shot from my bow in a moments notice. I was tense with anticipation.
Once I bring another deer back to him, I could simply just do this for a living. No more stealing, no more guilt, and no more worrying about starving during the winter.
It simply felt like a dream. Just one dead animal, and my worries would disappear.
And speaking of the animal that I had to kill…
I finally spotted the patch of grass that lead me to my salvation in the first place. Just passed the tiny hill and into the valley and boom, an easier life straight ahead.
But what I found was not the strange deer that peacefully grazed on dry bushes and grass, but a camp filled with soldiers.
And it looked like they were ready to march.
I fell flat on my stomach and let out a whimper of fear. I knew those colors, I knew that flag, and I knew that insignia.
Ylisse
When my father was still alive and just joined the war, whenever he came back home for redeployment to a different location, he would tell me stories of his battles on the front.
I would cheer for my father's triumphant victory against Ylisse troops and how his general would take down the Ylissean flag, and rise a Plegian one in it's stead.
But that was then, and all I could do now was stare in silent horror at the brand of Naga that was proudly displayed on their flag.
What were they doing here? My village was a small outpost far away from any major city and little to no presences on maps.
Hell the only reason that my village even had a military presences was because it was war time. Any other time it would be manned by civilian volunteers.
While my mind ran rampant, the Ylissean soldiers began to move and pack up their camp with worrying efficiency.
They appeared to be heading west. Towards my village.
I thought of Tharja. Peacefully sleeping in my neighbors house, waiting for me to come pick her up.
What could I do?
. . . . .
Thank you for reading
- LazyZealot