Chapter 3: Reaction
The sun rose high that fateful morning and I willed myself to stay in bed to allow myself more time to dream. Sadly, though, it would not be so as the morning light filtered into my window and I drug myself from my slumber and dressed. I wondered if our guest already left. It mattered little, as I had already resigned myself to this life. There would be no more for me beyond this uncomfortable bed, toiling in the field, my loft, and my mother and father. I would carry on when they passed, and that would be that. Did the thought leave me saddened? Quite so, really, but I would be my father before my, and his father before him. That is what young boys did in these underprivileged parts of our kingdom, carrying on what was left for them, and leave something for my own children to carry on.
Ah, but I was leaving myself to my own depressing thought. There were animals that needed to be fed, and weeds to be pulled. Work clothes donned, I left my little dream sanctuary and headed towards our little kitchen, but stopped as I heard the voices of mother and father, ever the early risers and preparing a list of chores, no doubt. Usually, I could smell cooking bacon on the stove, or warm hotcakes being prepared by mother. Today, though, it would not be so. Creeping closer to the corner where the walls of my room met our living space, I listened to their conversation. It was not wise for me to listen to the conversations of my parents, as I would learn later in life, there was much they shielded me from in my young age.
"I went out into the storage shed yesterday morning." Father's voice came from the room. Knowing mother would reply, and being such a soft spoke woman, I crept ever closer.
"Oh?" Had I been any farther, I'd have missed it entirely and probably only heard half the conversation.
"Looks like you were right. Rats got into the grain. And we're down to our last bag of feed." Father heaved a sigh as I heard shuffling and nearly darted back to my room.
There was a pause in the conversation and I could hear the worry in mother's voice. Grain was one of the staples of our household. We fed ourselves with it, and mother could bake bread it to sell for coin in town which was turned around to buy things that were necessary to keep our way of life going. "Can any of the grain be salvaged?" She asked quietly.
Father did not reply vocally, so mother continued talking. "Can we make the feed stretch till harvest?" She asked, the worry creeping deeper into her voice.
Again, no verbal reply from father, and mother heaved a heavy sigh. This presented a disturbing problem for us. With no grain, our steady supply of coin from the bread would be gone, and none could be purchased to make more bread. The animals could not be fed without the feed and they would starve and die with our food. With no coin, father would be unable to purchase the supplies necessary to hunt and fish. This placed us in a dangerous position as we would be caught with no way to feed ourselves, or our animals until harvest which was at least a month or so away. My heart pounded in my chest. For all the times I wished there was more to life, my life was now in danger. Young that I was, I was still smart enough to recognize when there was a problem that needed solving.
"How much coin do we have left?" Father's voice was cold, dangerously low and with an edge I'd not heard except when I'd been scolded.
"Fourteen silver and eight copper, cleaned us out, I did." Mother said while the coins jingled in her little glass jar. "Will it be enough?"
Silence, I would learn, would be something that signaled grave news or harsh words. And harsh they were as father's reply would ring in my ears for years to come. "For two," He said bitterly and it sounded like the words tasted foul on his tongue.
"We've been through worse, Adam." Mother said, hopefully. It was true that we'd been through bad spots before, but worse? No.
"No, Maven, we haven't. You and I will take turns going without. One day at a time." Boots touched the floor and it creaked under father's weight as the smacking of lips could be heard as they shared a tender moment. Belatedly, I realized my fingernails were dug into the old wood of the wall.
"I'm going to go wake Matthew." Mother said. I crept closer to my door, ready to dart inside.
"Let the boy sleep longer, Maven. A full belly like the ones we all had last night deserves a fully rested body." Father said. It was something he said often. A full belly deserves a fully rested body. Words he lived by. I went back to my room and closed the door as quietly as I could and undressed, slipping into the covers and jerking them over my head. I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or if this was something that would pass. I laid there in silence and willed myself to fall asleep once more, but slumber would not come. Father's words rang in my ears like bells.
For two, he had said. One would have to go without, and it was, as I would discover, always be mother or father who went without, never I.
That was when the tears came; the stark realization that mother and father were sacrificing for me, to ensure I had a full belly at the end of the day. It would be a harsh month or so we would be forced to live this way. I'm not sure how much time passed before the rap came to my door and mother's voice floated in. Gone was the worries of the future and instead, the pleasant melody of her voice.
"Matthew, it's time to get up, dear. Master Arthur will be leaving shortly and wishes us to see him off." She said and I heard footsteps departing. I dragged myself from bed, still in a daze as I dressed. As if my ears were slow to catch up, I realized she told me Arthur would be leaving. I dressed quickly and headed from my room to see him off. If nothing else, I'd ask him to write and tell me of his home in Dalaran. A young boy with stars in his eyes, that's what I was.
Outside, his carriage was already there and preparing to leave. He was shaking hands with father, and then switching to mother to kiss the back of her hand. She curtsied and I walked up a moment later. He was still speaking to mother and father as I waited for my turn to see him off.
"I must thank you for your generous hospitality, Mister and Missus De'tylmarande. Your farm, your home, and your warm company will not soon be forgotten!" He said, his stormy grey eyes twinkling as they settled on him, but the smile faltered. "Ah, little Matthew, this is where we say goodbye, my friend."
I said nothing as he extended his hand to me. I stared at it like it was a snake ready to strike. I didn't grasp it, but maybe I should have. I realized he was my only hope to save my father and father from what I perceived to be the threat of my own existence.
"Matthew, don't be rude." Father said with an edge to his voice. My eyes found his face and I shrank from the look in his eyes as I grasped Arthur's hand and shook it once. He, though, was not convinced of the authenticity of the weak shake. As he should be, were I had my way, his carriage would break down half way to his destination.
"Yes, well…" Arthur cleared his throat and bowed once. "Must be off, if I'm ever in the area again, I'll be sure to stop on by. Good luck to the three of you!"
Mother and father said another round of goodbyes, but I said nothing as I watched him climb into the carriage and speak to the driver for them to be off. The horse began to trot off and his violet robes danced a bit in the wind as he put his pipe to his lips and began humming. Slowly, he faded into the distance.
Were you to ask me what came over me, I couldn't answer the question with any level of certainty. My feet took me forward as I ran after the carriage, mother and father too slow to stop me. I found a small rock on the way there and ran as fast as my legs would carry me. The carriage became bigger and bigger until it was within range. The magister riding in it looked at me with a look of bewilderment as I raised the rock in my hand and threw it with all my might at him. My target would be missed by miles as it thumped against the wooden carriage as I screamed after him.
"Take me with you!" I yelled, the hot feeling of tears stinging my eyes. I didn't want there to be a reason we had to suffer, and I wanted less so for that reason to be me. I picked up another rock and threw it, this one landing against the carriage as well as Arthur turned to speak to the driver once more.
It was right about then that mother and father caught up. It was father's strong, firm grasp that caught my arm before another rock could be thrown, his vice-like grip on my wrist making me wince.
"Matthew De'tylmarande, what on Azeroth has come over you, boy?" Father shouted and jerked me back behind him as Arthur was stepping down from the carriage. I didn't care one bit that I'd just embarrassed them in front of his man and I cried quietly, cursing myself for the weakness I showed.
"It is quite alright, Mister De'tylmarande." Arthur's voice was cool and collected, but I could tell the stormy look in his eyes meant he was contemplating something.
Father began to lead me away and mother looked absolutely mortified at the whole scenario, but I dug my heels in firmly and wrenched my hand from father's grasp, an action I knew would catch me a beating if he got the chance, but he wouldn't.
"No!" I hollered. I had never raised my voice to my father, but when you feel strongly about something as I did now, you tend to do things you never thought you'd do. "He's from Dalaran! It's a great kingdom, father! With great purple spires, and magic, and we can be happy there!"
"Enough!" Father shouted at me. "With what money shall we travel there, Matthew? With what food would we feed ourselves on the trip south?" His tone softened as he saw the tears down my cheeks. "Matthew, our place is here. Your place is here, not dabbling in some hocus-pocus in some magic kingdom."
"Not when there's only enough for two." I said calmly, but the look on father and mother's face might have suggested I'd shot at them. Belatedly, they realized I'd overheard their conversation from earlier, and mother looked like she might break down.
Finally, the magi spoke up, having been quite up till this moment. "Sir, if I might…"
"I think you've done quite enough, Master Arthur. Best be off." Father's voice was like a dagger made of ice, meant to pierce the mage and send him on his way, but the mage would persist.
"Young Matthew here is the prime age to become an apprentice." He began and father looked like he might become even angrier. "As chance would have it, I don't have an apprentice right now. He would have an education, he would be taken care of by the magisters there, and have all of his needs and wants-," Arthur was cut off by an angry shout from father.
"You know nothing! His place is with his family, where he can be happy. We can provide for him just fine." He gestured about and yelled each word to try and prove his point, but it would fall on lies.
"But you can't, sir. You cannot pretend the conversation with your wife didn't happen." He puffed on his pipe and father looked daggers at the mage. "All I'm saying is that Matthew can go to a place where he can be provided for and cared for, and nobody will have to sacrifice anything."
"I will have to sacrifice my boy." Mother's small voice made me whimper quietly.
"Such is the plight of all mother's who watch their boys go off to war or new pastures, madam." He said, relighting the burnt out Fadeleaf with a finger.
She had nothing to say to this. Men went off to serve Lordaeron constantly, and what little friends in town mother had, it seemed each week another son was off to fight for king and country, and another daughter was off to be courted by a noble. This was no different.
It was father who would speak first. "And he will be provided for? Cared for and clothed? You can promise us this?" He asked with a small quiver in his voice.
"Not with a single doubt." Arthur replied quietly and with a nod.
"Adam, you can't—," Mother started but was cut off.
"We can sell the furniture, Maven, and make enough coin to last through the harvest and into the next." Father, always the calculating one, saw things from the perspective of the best outcome for all.
"You cannot expect me to give up my son." Mother's voice was hard, and had edges like steel.
"I don't. I expect you to do what's right for him, Maven." Father's reply was harder and like the edge of a woodcutter's axe. He turned to me and held my face in his rough hand. "Listen to me, Matthew. I don't know what the future holds. But it looks like you have a chance that we didn't have, son." Mother quaked at the idea, but stood her ground like a silent statue.
Suddenly, as much as I wanted to go, I felt my gut tie into knots. Would I ever see my mother and father again. Arthur excused himself to the carriage, but told the driver to wait.
"Papa, I don't wanna go anymore. I wanna stay with you." I said, the tears never ending. "I can eat less and—"
"No." Father said, firmly, but with kindness. "No, son, this is an opportunity you only have once in your life. You go on, you take it, and you don't forget where you come from."
Those words would forever define who I would become. Never forget where you come from. I slung my arms around father's neck and cried as I hugged him. Finally, mother came to say her goodbyes as well, kissing my cheeks and crying along with father and myself.
"We love you, Matthew." Mother whispered, smoothing back my hair.
"I love you too, mama." I said back, kissing my mother and father's faces in turn.
I don't know how long I had stayed there on that path out of town saying goodbye. It must have at least been an hour, if not longer. Arthur patiently waited, puffing on his pipe. It seemed as if he was not surprised, as if this was the outcome he expected all along. I told him I would be going home to gather things, but he told me it would not be necessary. What I wore would be sufficient to travel in.
I climbed in the back as mother held my hand and Arthur told the driver to be off. She followed the carriage as our hands stayed clasped. Picking up speed, mother and father had to run to keep pace. Our hands remained together until finally, their running could not keep with the horses and our grasps left each other.
"Don't ever forget us, Matthew!" Shouted mother as she waved, father beside her clutching her around the shoulders and waving, an altogether heart wrenching sight, never would I forget the looks on their faces.
"I won't mama! I won't forget you!" I shouted back, and that would be the truth. Never would I forget them. I waved until I could not see them, and nearly told the driver to stop so I could get out and forget this entire business.
I didn't though as I sat across from Arthur as he stared at me with his pipe. "It's a long road ahead, Matthew. Are you sure you're up for it? Not too late to turn around."
I shook my head as he neared the pass leading towards the central part of this little valley. "I'll see them again. I know I will." The tears threatened to come back, but I took a deep breath and steeled myself. "I'm going to be a good apprentice. You'll see." I said confidently, but my nerves betrayed my voice.
Arthur smiled and patted my shoulder. "I know you will, boy. Don't you worry, we'll make you into a fine magus and you can go back to your mother and father with sacks of gold!" He chuckled and it made me smile.
Little did I know, I would not see my mother and father again for many, many years, after many events that would define who I was, and who I am now.
Ahh, but I am getting ahead of myself. This is just the beginning of my story. The road is long and winding.
Stay a while, grab yourself another drink, this where the story gets exciting.
