~Memories~

By Ola

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A/N~ thank you for al of those who reviewed. I'll give you imaginary cookies! They're yummy! =)

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Part 6~

"How long have we slept?"

"Too long already."

"I think not nearly long enough," mumbled Lanea with a yawn.

The sky had barely begun turning lighter.

"Come here," said Buggle with a grin rivaling Lanea's yawn in size. "We'll make a boy out of you yet!" he gestured theatrically.

Micolanea's already short hair became even shorter, and while she carefully bound her breasts, Buggle joked about a certain very well endowed old lady they both knew.

Before the sun rose, two boys were walking on the edge of an empty road, heading south, toward the light.

~*~*~

At their fast walk, they reached Melin by sunrise of the next day, allowing for a few very short breaks, and one a bit longer to catch some needed sleep. Already, workers in the farms surrounding the town were up and about, while Melin was slowly waking up. Shutters were being open, doorsteps swept by busy-looking women or their daughters, but the streets themselves were still empty for the most part. Micolanea saw all that through eyes itchy with lack of sleep, and sincerely, she didn't care much at this point whether these people were throwing the contents of their night pots on the streets or walking on their heads. However, she did notice that the guard's headquarters were situated in the middle of Melin, right nest to the town's only church. In their wide open door stood a man almost as wide.

"Let me do the talking until they ask you a question directly."

"Uh hum," said Lanea, passing a hand through her hair self consciously, as they approached the door.

"Excuse me sir. When does the next group of volunteers leave?"

"Mmm…'morrow mornin' prob'bly," he rumbled.

"Is it still possible to enlist?"

" 'f course. 'lways poss'ble. F'low me."

The man's office was the first door on the right. It was small and stank of smoke, but it was a lot cleaner than Lanea had expected. The officer sat behind his desk and took out a piece of blank paper. The chair squeaked under his weight.

"Name?" he asked, looking at Buggle with a rather uninterested look.

"I'm not the one sir. It's my young cousin here," he placed a hand protectively on Lanea's shoulder.

"Well, wha's you' name boy?"

"Lan," said Micolanea trying to make her voice sound deeper than it was.

"Age?"

"16 sir. I'll be turning 17 next summer sir."

"Las' name?"

"Well, err, ummm, it's…" What the heck? "It's Moss, sir." She dropped her head so he wouldn't see her face.

"Ident'f'cation pap'rs? Name of guardian?"

"I'm his guardian sir. You see, a fortnight ago, the poor lad's house burned down. His…his parents and his little sister did not escape." Lanea's head dropped even lower. "He is alive only because he was not present during the fire. The neighbors tried to help but they couldn't do anything…when the poor boy came back, only ashes, still smoking, were left. I am the only family he has, but I am poor sir and cannot guarantee him a good future. I am sure, though, that in the guard, he'll do fine, if you allow him to."

For a long moment, the officer looked at Buggle's solemn features and Lanea's shaking shoulders.

"Any skills in arms?" he finally asked, his voice a lot softer.

~*~*~

Ten minutes later, the two young people were rounding the corner of the main street, a legal paper of entry into the guard in Lan's hand.

"Moss? Moss? Where did that come from?" Buggle laughed.

"Well, what about the fire story? Eh?" Lanea replied morosely. She thought "Moss" was a very nice name.

"Wow, Lan, okay, you know I was just kidding. Come on, let's get something to eat. My stomach is getting brutal."

Melin's market was rather small, but they found food without problem. They each got a meat pie, with cider for Lan and beer for Buggle. They sat down by a small wooden table right outside the tavern. Their traveling packs received an honor place on the chair nearby.

"What's that sign you made to those guys over there?" asked Lanea, her mouth full of crusty pie.

"It's thief code*. Basically saying that I'm not here on business, but that they shouldn't consider us as their business either."

"Uh hum."

"Listen, Lan. I taught you some stuff, and I know you can take care of yourself, but be careful please. I won't be able to help you if something goes wrong. I won't even know exactly where you are. I've…permitted myself to let some rumors fly about a certain lady Micolanea, back home." He flashed her one of his smiles. "That should confuse your folks a bit more. I don't think it's necessary to tell you not to divulge to anyone who you are? The army is full of…impolite and uncivilized people to put it mildly and so is the world. Don't let nice faces fool you. Lan? Are you listening to what I'm saying?"

"Uh hum…can I have your pie?"

they spent the rest of the afternoon talking (a bit more seriously after Lan ate a second pie and calmed her stomach down) and walking around town. They heard the church bells toll. Two hours before sunset. The new guards were due in the headquarters before nightfall, where they would spend the night. in the morning they would get supplies, and head out.

"If you want to take a bath, I would advise you to go now, before too many people show up and some…mmm…complications arise."

"Yea," Lanea sighed. "I'll miss you Buggle. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. I don't want to have to get you out of prison the moment I come back." She tried to smile. It didn't work.

"You better be back here in a year Lan. I'll be waiting for you," Buggle's voice wasn't as cheerful as he would have liked it either. They hugged, and Micolanea left, not looking back, and trying hard not to let her chin tremble too much.

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* got that idea from another book by Raymond Feist. (can't remember the title, though) so I don't own that idea.