He Took The Time
Chapter 8 Wind
The youngest of their group was missing. He'd gone to bed with the rest of the heroes, but in the morning light, no one could locate him. He'd been slightly put out when he wasn't allowed to take any night watch. The youngster had nearly fallen asleep into his dinner, drained from the day's events. The heroes had spent the day on a rough and taxing hike. He was young and needed rest to regain his strength to continue scaling the mountain the next day. He finally went to bed with a huff when his arguments fell on deaf ears. No one had seen him since. They'd split up to search for their missing comrade.
"Kid!" The Old Man ran towards the stumbling form, "Where have you been?"
"I'm sick of everyone treating me like a baby," He shrugged away from the older man's helping hands. He continued up the trail with painful limping steps. The older hero followed with a sigh knowing the stubbornness of the hero spirit firsthand.
They continued up in silence, except for the younger's harsh, angry panting. Eventually, he began to pour out his hurt between breaths, "Nobody does that to the forger and he's not much older than me."
"I don't usually mind, but I don't feel like anyone trusts me to do the job," His anger deflated as he stumbled and nearly fell back down the path. He allowed the older man to lower him to the ground and off his sprained ankle.
The Old Man carefully checked his wound. His joint was badly swollen. He knew he needed to tread softly with the youngest hero. It would be so easy to brush away all his hurt feelings as being immature and sensitive. But he had legitimate concerns that he needed to air out. He needed to be listened to not brushed off. He needed to purge his emotional wound. And then they could cleanse the wound together so he spoke softly, "We trust you."
"Maybe, but not as readily or as fully as the older more experienced heroes," He spoke bitterly as he allowed the Old Man to wrap his hurt foot.
He didn't wait on the older man's help as he pulled himself up using a nearby stick as a crutch, "I may not have as much experience as the rest of you but the goddesses chose me to be a hero just as much as anyone of you."
The older hero badly wanted to help the younger. But he watched him continue up the trail with only the help of his walking stick. He followed close behind just in case. But all he did to help was to continue listening as the boy talked, "Most of you started young just like me. Many of you started later. So if anything I will have more experience in the end."
"I can fight; defend myself and even protect the rest of you heroes as well." At the end of his rant he sat breathing heavily waiting for the older hero to tell him he was being a baby," He gritted his teeth as the stick proved useless to get him over a large boulder.
Seeing his dilemma the older hero climbed up and silently offered his hand, "Perhaps we try to shelter you. But it is not because we think you are not capable. We've all seen you in battle. It is always an honor to fight at your side, just as it is with anyone of the chosen heroes."
Their hands clasped after a moment of hesitation. Once they reached the other side they leaned against the boulder catching their breath.
"Then why?"
"Perhaps it is because we all started out so young. We see in you, ourselves as we once were. This is not an easy life. It is not one I'd choose for anyone, let alone you eight," He paused with a fond smile thinking of his new and beloved companions.
"Not because you are not up for the job. You are more than capable and worthy of the title of hero. But it changes a person. They become great warriors but they lose something of themselves. They become harder, less innocent. If we can preserve that even for just a little while, it is worth it." He laid his hands on the small but strong shoulders as they stood together at the top of the mountain, "You did good, kid."