Jan I
He was busy carrying two buckets of water that morning, as was his habit. It was work he could do easily. Well, it was that, or chop firewood, and his father preferred doing that. When he wasn't drunk.
Jan thought it probably had something to do with how angry his father had been lately. Ever since Jan's mother died, his father had started drinking and spending whatever meager amounts of coin they had on whatever kind of alcohol he could get his hands on.
Jan understood. He missed his mother as well, his father wasn't the only one.
But he still didn't like it.
It used to be that before his mother died suddenly, the chores were divided in an equal fashion. Mother would take care of the house, father would work and chop wood, and he would help out where he was bid. Things went swimmingly. They didn't have a lot of things. Only a meager garden for some herbs and a few animals. Most of their living was gained by selling wood and doing odd jobs around the village here and there. It was a quiet life, but it was something. Now though…
The only thing his father did was occasionally chop whatever blocks he would when he felt like it, and Jan thought it wasn't because of money, but merely as a way to stop being angry.
That was one thing he noticed. Father was angry all the time, and lashed out at the smallest things.
It happened to Jan not too far back.
A few days ago, Jan had been trying to carve himself a small little wooden toy boat. He would carve it, and then add sails…somehow, he'd probably use some rags or something, and then he'd put the boat in the local stream and watch it sail away.
He liked to imagine himself on a boat sometimes… Just sailing away, to some faraway land, he didn't know where. Or he'd stow away on a merchant caravan, or get some apprenticeship to a skilled craftsman in one of the cities.
Anything to… get away from here. Ever since his mother died, this place didn't feel like home.
But father wouldn't hear of it. When he saw Jan building the little toy boat instead of working, he became furious.
"You're 12 years old! A man grown! You're not supposed to think of toys! You're supposed to think of work!" He screamed, spit flying out of his mouth.
Jan was perplexed.
"But I already did all my chores for today?" Jan replied clumsily.
That didn't make father happy.
"Did you? Did you? Did you!? Then why are the dishes dirty!? Go wash them, now!" His father screamed at him, towering over him all the while, breath stinking of ale.
Jan relented and went to wash the dishes with a lack of enthusiasm.
"They're dirty because you haven't washed them at all… I wash my dishes, you don't. You don't do anything…" He thought to himself.
"Now…how did mom used to do it? Put the soap on the bottom of the dish then pour hot water from the teakettle and then use a bucket with cold water and pour that last. After that use the metal… whatever the hell it's called and use that to scrub." Jan recounted the process in his mind, but as he did, he was standing idle. To an outside observer he would not look like he was thinking, but as if he was doing nothing at all.
Of course, his father noticed that.
"Lazy, stupid, worthless boy! Good for nothing! It's your fault Ana died! Your fault! Your fault!" He screamed at Jan as soon as he got inside, bottle still in hand. All he could do was duck to barely evade the bottle that was aimed at his temple.
He didn't respond. He merely cleaned up the broken bits of glass and continued on with his duties. He did however manage to shoot a glare of contempt at his father's back and that receding hairline he had. The disgusting black hair that was so unkempt and shaggy.
But then the fear got into him and he quickly turned around and got to work.
He didn't want to taste the belt again. That was what his father called it. 'Tasting the belt'.
Jan didn't understand how things had gotten this way. Just a year ago, everything was fine. His father was a nice man, well, relatively speaking. Beatings were minor and rare, and his mother was still alive and still a source of warmth and comfort.
Now…
How had things gotten this bad? That was what went through his head.
Still, he had no choice but to keep his head down and work.
It had been three days since he had last seen his father.
It was a strange conversation.
His father wasn't drunk for once.
His receding hairline had been completely shaved by someone.
He was wearing clothes that didn't stink completely.
And he was holding his axe.
"Boy. I am going into the woods." He explained as Jan was busy trying to cook bread. Well, failing at cooking bread, at any rate. No one else would make the bread. Mother was gone, and Jan was only a fraction as good as she was. The bread frequently ended up burnt, but it was edible, assuming you chewed enough.
"Why?" Jan asked, almost stupidly. He feared retribution, but it never came.
"I am going to find the creature that killed your mother. And kill it."
Creature? Wasn't mother killed by wild wolves? What creature?
"Creature?" He blurted out.
"Yes." His father replied and didn't explain himself further.
Jan was about to open his mouth to ask… something, but before he could, his father interrupted him.
"If I am not back in three days, Zirek will buy the farm from you. I have already struck the deal. Once you get the money, leave this place and go far away, I don't know where."
"Leave?"
"Yes. Leave and go far away. This place… it has no future for you. No future for anyone."
"And go where?" He asked.
"Wherever you want… Gods know you've deserved it. I've… you've suffered me enough." His father said and left, brooking no tone for argument.
The boy could have sworn he saw a hint of shame on his father's face.
It tugged at his heartstrings and fanned the flames of his curiosity.
Jan tried to follow him, and to see where he was going.
If he was truly going into the woods alone… that was bad. Very bad. The deep woods were dangerous. Where it was dry was safe, but as soon as the water started rising, it was deadly. Was his father going there? To avenge his mother? Why?
Jan rushed after his father. He didn't like the man… but he loved him, strange as it might sound.
But as soon as he rushed through the door, his father turned around and shot him a contemptuous glare.
"I'm coming with you!" Jan shouted, though he didn't know why. Was it vengeance? He wasn't a hunter, but he did think many times about going into the woods and finding the beast or beasts that savaged his mother. In the end he decided against it, after heeding an old woman's advice that his mother wouldn't want him to die for her sake.
However, this didn't happen.
Jan's father turned around and punched him right in the stomach so hard that Jan was winded, and collapsed right there on the doorway. That was the last time he saw either of his parents as he lost consciousness.
Days came and went, and life became even harder as an orphan. The villagers supported him where they could, but times were hard for all.
Jan's father didn't return.
Jan was chopping wood, or at least trying to.
He missed the log, and didn't chop it in half, and the axe got stuck.
It was then that it came to him. It was then that he realized.
Loneliness.
He dropped his axe.
Jan finally shed tears.
He was on his way to the village crone, to help her pick herbs for tea. He didn't mind it, it was relaxing work, and it was better to smell of tea than of pigshit.
It was then that he saw them, when they entered the village for the first time.
Two strangers.
Both so tall and beautiful and strong and heroic.
They looked to be foreigners, and they clearly had seen better days. Perhaps they were lost? Either way, this was an opportunity.
They left his sight, as they went into the village elder's cabin. Clearly, it was to speak to the village elder about something, he didn't know what. Perhaps it was about the monster?
Were they Adventurers? They didn't look 'dangerous' enough. Well, that was just him, but he always imagined Adventurers as grizzled and mean-looking and scarred and old.
But he was smart enough to know that things weren't always what they seemed.
Jan had an idea. A brilliant idea. A way to get out of here.
Jan would sell his farm to Zirek, like his father told him, and he'd use the money to travel with these two had been coming up with excuses to delay the sale, but now there was no need. It could go through, and he could leave.
Maybe he'd become a squire or an apprentice?
For the first time in a long time, Jan felt hope.
He started packing his clothes.
On that same day, his plans were ruined but an hour later.
The day he was supposed to sell his farm to Zirek and leave this shithole, some noble he didn't know had come with his retinue of guards and knights and men-at-arms, all ahorse and clad in mail and plate and armed with castle-forged steel.
"I am Count Zovran, and I am here to claim my rightful due as your liege lord." He proclaimed and then set his armored dogs to nearly rip the village apart. They took more than was necessary or even he thought possible. Whole carts were filled up with tribute of all kinds.
But material goods and coins weren't the only thing the soldiers took.
One soldier had taken liberties with a farmer's daughter and 'accidentally' broke several of her teeth while he was forcing himself upon her.
Of course, he claimed that the girl was a whore. That she had seduced him and that her teeth were already broken, thus he was in the right of it.
The girl's father protested.
Count Zovran threw him a single copper coin.
"For your troubles." He said.
The father became enraged and grabbed a pitchfork, but as soon as he did, three arrows pierced his back and he fell to the ground, limp and bleeding.
Jan watched this all with a sense of curiosity and disgust while leaning against a tree.
It was his first time seeing a noble. Tax-collectors came frequently enough, but they weren't nobles.
Jan decided he didn't like either, but nobles were by far worse.
"What kind of world is it when this man claims the Gods ordained him to rule over us?"
Anger surged up in Jan's core, and he almost did something stupid. Almost. He kept his mouth shut and his head down.
When the nobles came to his house, and saw how little there actually was, they left most of it alone.
Most.
They did take the few chickens they had. And they took the salted pork. All of it. And more than half the flour.
So now, Jan would probably starve. Eventually. Well, him and half the village.
Both Jan and Zirek decided the sale of the farm wouldn't go through.
Zirek, for all his money had been stolen, and Jan, for his farm was close to worthless.
He had to get away, as soon as possible, and these two strangers were the only hope he had left.
In the end, Jan didn't even bother selling the farm. He just traded it for some dried meat and bread that Zirek had hidden away.
There was no turning back now.
He had packed everything, and everything meant everything.
Clothes, an iron knife, provisions, healing herbs, spare cloth, a pot for cooking, and so on.
He was packed to the brim. His rucksack weighed heavily on his back, but he was used to heavy loads, so he knew that in a while he would scarcely notice the weight.
Put simply, there was no turning back.
He was prepared. He even had the barber trim his brown hair down short so he'd look more presentable.
Sleep wasn't even a thought. How could he sleep? If he slept, he may have missed them when they left.
For a while he thought about going inside and introducing himself. But what if he did and he ended up bothering them and they told him 'no'?
The woman, the wizard, or witch, he didn't know what the proper term was, she certainly seemed angry upon receiving the news she wouldn't get paid. And if he angered her, what would she do?
Better to not find out. Better to play it safe.
So, he waited.
He just…waited. Outside the inn. He didn't want to go inside and bother them, even though there was a conversation and loud music.
But then again… he didn't have to speak to anyone. He could just go inside and observe. Yes. Observe. Speak to some of the other villagers about the newcomers, ask them what kind of people they were.
Yes, that is what he would do.
He would observe the newcomers, and come the morning, he would set out with them. As thanks for slaying the monster that killed his father and his mother, he'd do whatever they needed. And if it helped him potentially build a better life for himself on the way, well, that wasn't a bad thing, was it?
A night of raucous laughter and copious amounts of drinking after a day that elicited mixed emotions.
On the one hand, the villagers were thoroughly robbed, and three of their own were severely harmed. One beating, one rape, and one death.
But on the other hand, the monster in the bog had been slain.
He spoke to the… wondrously endowed redhead called Tammie. The one that had said some very strange things to him a few times. The one five years his senior.
She elicited some strange feelings in him, but that was all she did.
And his mind was focused on one thing and one thing alone.
Observation.
He had absorbed the story the man called Riku had told to everyone. Now he… he sounded like a true hero. A knight, like out of the tales. He looked like a real hero as well. Tall, broad-shouldered and built properly. And finally, he acted like a real hero, and conducted himself with strength and bravery and humility.
It was Jan's wish to be like him.
As for the tall woman, Rin, the magic caster, she was not here, as she was apparently resting after suffering an injury. Still, from what Jan heard of her, she seemed like a confident person who knew who they were and what they wanted. A skilled magic caster that could shoot fire and frost and lightning and command the very elements themselves to destroy her foes.
Taewe village, the village of Jan's birth, didn't have any magic casters, nor did it have any priests or healers or alchemists.
The only source of healing was the old crone that kept to herself, and all she could do was make teas and poultices.
Taewe village wasn't very prosperous.
Nonetheless, Jan learned enough this night to burn away all shred of doubt about what he had to do.
And if they didn't want him to tag along, then he'd just annoy them until he did.
Jan sat down on a chair in the corner of the inn and placed his rucksack on the table, and then, like a patient hunter, fixed his gaze towards the stairway and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until the rooster crowed, and sunlight bathed the land, and day broke.
He did not sleep all the while.
And it was all worth it.
When he saw the tall woman using her staff as a walking stick next to the brave hero walking down the stairs, he grabbed his rucksack and bolted out of his chair as if his ass was on fire.
Within seconds, he was next to the base of the stairway, staring up at the two of them with hope and wonder and excitement and fear.
No turning back.
"Mister Rin! Mistress Riku!" He exclaimed.
It was only then that he realized something.
"Shit! Their names are so similar I mixed them up! I'm doomed."
"You got it backwards. I'm Riku, she is Rin." The warrior stated as he sported half of a warm smile on his face.
Apparently, he didn't take Jan's mix up personally. That was good.
"Sorry." Jan stammered out an apology.
"What do you want?" The wizard-woman asked him directly, her piercing blue eyes staring right at his soul.
He mustered all his courage.
"My name is Jan. Please, let me come with you!"
After staring at Jan for a good few seconds in bewilderment, the two of them shared a look of confusion among themselves.
It was Riku who broke the silence.
"Huh?"
