The morning arose with the chirping sounds of burst joyfully swaying on the branches of trees almost as if welcoming a spring morning. Aeron’s eyes slowly opened as he hazily walked out of the tent, his eyes still blurred from the sleep of the night. He had thought that his sleep was to be a difficult one, but yet it was one of the soundest nights he had had. He supposed he had one person to thank for it. His eyes looking towards the fire were still lit with a kettle of herbal tea from slowly boiling to perfection. Aeron had figured that it was Alwyn’s comfort drink, and he wondered what it’d taste like.
“Good morning…” He said to Alwyn who turned his head around to look at him,
“How did you sleep?” He asked him, his eyes focusing on the fire to make sure that it doesn’t burn too hot.
“I slept quite well,” Aeron answered, sitting by Alwyn as he shifted the sticks aside, giving the fire less fuel to burn, “How about you?”
“I slept well,” Alwyn answered, though, from his eyes, Aeron could tell that the previous night was a sleepless one for him though the eyebags that he carried with him told the stories of greater struggles.
With a bubbling sound, the kettle finally boiled as a pleasant odor with sweetness and a hint of an earthy taste filled the air. Alwyn took from his satchel two small metal cups and gave Aeron one before lifting the kettle up from the fire and pouring him a cup half-full. Placing his cup on the ground, he poured himself a cup as well fuller than Aeron’s.
Picking it up, he held it close to his nose and spent a moment taking in the pleasant odor. Aeron watched and soon followed his movement. Breathing in too much of the fume, Aeron could feel an unpleasant sensation rushing through him and down to his lung. Though eyebrows already frowned as he coughed uncontrollably, he did not dare pour the tea away perhaps out of respect for Alwyn, rather setting it carefully down onto the ground as he tried to compose himself.
Alwyn, as cruel as it might’ve been, laughed at the poor boy as he saw an image of his past self when he had first had the tea before his very eyes.
“What is this tea?!” Aeron asked him as, despite his best effort, he could not quite get the bitter aftertaste of the fume out of his throat.
“I remember when I first had it too,” Alwyn laughed as he took a small sip of the tea, “I told myself that I’d never drink it again.”
“And you are drinking it right now,” Aeron said, trying his best to gather the courage for another sip. Just as Alwyn said, he felt like he could never get used to it.
“I never drank it again until I was wounded in battle,” He paused, taking another sip, his hands still nursing it to feel the warmth in his hands, “Kanarite arrow, piercing through my shoulder as I collapsed from my mount.”
A moment of reminiscence came to him as he recalled the events of that day, a warm smile appearing on his face.
“I thought that I was to be left there to rot and yet when I finally awakened, I found myself in a camp where an apothecary was nursing me,” he said, Aeron could see his fingers holding his cup tighter
“She was helping me with it that she just brewed. I remember her face, and her excitement when my eyes opened.” Alwyn continued on with his story before turning to look at Aeron, “Do you know what happened to that nurse?”
Aeron followed the story closely, his mind running wild with thoughts and imaginations. It was the sort of story that he’s always liked to hear, be it from his father or, now, Alwyn.
“You…” Aeron tripped on his words as he hesitated on his guess, “…married her?”
Upon hearing the word escape Aeron’s lips, Alwyn could not control himself as he bursted into laughter much to Aeron’s own confusion.
“No, child,” Alwyn said, still holding himself from furthering his laughs, “She became the Empress’ own apothecary, at the age of 32 no less.”
Aeron was mildly disappointed though his young brain supposed that not all stories necessarily need to have a romantic ending to them. As he listened to the story and thought about it, his cup of tea was finished and so too was Alwyn’s as he decided that it was time for the two of them to leave.
“Pack up the tent, rolled it up and hand it to me,” he told Alwyn as he poured whatever tea that was left into his bidon and let it dilute with the water inside, “and quick, boy.”
Following his order to the letter, Aeron hastily and happily carried out his command, finishing it in a matter of seconds though clumsily as it was.
If there was one thing that Aeron was good at, it was rolling up a piece of fabric and tying it up tight. Handing it to Alwyn who held it in his hands and inspected them, he gave Aeron an acknowledging nod as he packed it up on his backpack along with the rest of the tools and cooking utensils that he had brought along with him. Kicking some dirt onto the fire as it died down just enough for him to step on it and extinguish its tongues until they were reduced to but an amber, Alwyn’s direction headed to a certain side of the forest that Aeron could tell by the direction of the sun to be the East.
“Are you ready?” He asked Aeron who stood by his side,
“All ready!” He answered enthusiastically, his hands clenching tight the backpack that he brought along filled with fruits and some other forested things for them to eat on their journey.
With Alwyn’s acknowledging nod and warm smile, the two of them began their journey across the forest and back to civilization. Small talks were exchanged along the way as they both came to know each other more and more. Alwyn enjoyed Aeron’s company and, in many ways, he saw his younger self within the enthusiastic young boy, an encounter with whom seemed to have been destined. Aeron was growing on him, and soon, his questions about his families were to be answered as they neared their final destination: Merydh.
They arrived at Merydh just as dusk nearly settled with the sun slowly descending down on the sea in the far West. It was a humble settlement though one that was undoubtedly growing fast ever since Cathal was made a Grand Dominion at the behest of Her Imperial Majesty. Alwyn could vividly remember when the first campaigns for colonization were called as settlers from Aeter, his native Kyri and even Varaus flooded the land and brought along with them the cultures and customs of their homelands all of which were beginning to merge into something that was distinctively Cathaine.
There were paved roads conveniently leading the both of them inwards to the settlement, the houses of which were built on solid foundations of bricks and ketvyn. He was not surprised, for Merydh itself holds the crossroad connecting the port city of Dakor to the rest of the Dominion’s inner settlements. As they walked, however, he could not help but notice that Aeron’s steps were becoming increasingly hesitant, heavier the longer they walked as eyes peered out from the windows and by the streets to look at them. They were focused on Aeron.
“Where is your house, boy?” Alwyn turned to him and asked, a question to which Aeron could only answer by pointing his finger forward to the town square where stood an impressive residence two stories with flowers and such ornaments hanging from its balconies which, in an instant, he could tell had a commanding view of the rest of the settlement even past the outer walls that protected it. They were all lit up by lights from within that flashed so brightly that they illuminated the streets outside as well.
As they approached, from within the house, emerged the silhouettes of two persons at the sight of whom Aeron could only hide behind Alwyn for protection not from their strikes but rather judgemental gazes. Before them appeared a man dressed in a honfes tunic draped across his body with an ornamental dark blue cloth slung across his shoulder, and a woman whose posture surely commanded respect as complemented by her gwyer - the clothes of a Glaithonist premier priestess. The way they stood with their attires was a clear sign that they were a part of the upper echelon of society.
“Aeron,” the woman said, calling out to his name in the tone of voice suggesting nothing but trouble, her face still tilted ever high in an expression of highness.
“M-mother,” Aeron responded shyly, understanding the things that he’s done.
“You’ve been away for long,” she told him, her hands placed behind her, “your father and I have been worried.”
“I-,” before Aeron could muster up the courage to utter a second word, Alwyn stepped forth in his stead.
“I found the boy in the woods,” he said, fearing not to look into the eyes of those before him before turning to look at Aeron once again, “He was quite brave.”
“Surely not brave enough to stay,” angrily his mother responded, her eyebrows frowning as he could see her fists clenching even as they were hidden from behind.
“Perhaps you’d be willing to settle for a talk,” Alwyn suggested, stepping up to protect Aeron from his mother’s wrath as his father stood on the side, having not uttered a single word since their interaction began, only ever casting upon Aeron a look of disappointment that he knew frightened Aeron more than anything else could.
“Kind hunter, though your rescue of our son is greatly appreciated, what occurs after is none of your business,” she retorted angrily, subliminally urging him to leave as she stepped forward and stretched her hand to grab her son’s arm before being prevented by Alwyn.
His free hand grabbed for the chain hanging around his neck and pulled it free, showing a medallion. Given to him by the Empress’ own hands, it featured silvery images of Zerka and Awrae standing firm by each other’s sides as The Dagger of the XV floated above them, all flanked by a laurel wreath. Even through the lowering lights of a dying day, it sparkled like the light of the sun.
As they recognized who they were in the presence of, their expressions were filled with horror and astonishment, and they both fell to their knees. Rionach, Aeron’s father, then walked forth
“Battlemaster,” he said, his voice once again evocative of the fire he once held in combat.
“Rise, Rionach, you do not need to bow.” Rionach could only rise in response to what Alwyn said, even as a tinge of humiliation rushed through him.
“Are you refusing to welcome me into your home?” Alwyn inquired, preferring to keep the event private so as not to create a commotion, especially since the neighborhood’s eyes were fixed completely on them.
“Y-yes, Battlemaster,” Rionach said nervously, urging his wife to follow him inside, where he hastened to prepare seats and place them at the table where they frequently conversed with guests.
Alwyn sat down by the table, Aeron beside him, and looked into the eyes of the two people in front of him. It wasn’t until the lights of the house illuminated the woman’s face that he realized who he was greeting - an auxiliary healer named Neirin who had been brought along with the legion’s march to the North. At the thought, he could only shake his head.
“Do you know why your son left?” He began their discussion with that simple question, to which Neirin and Rionach could only look at one another until Neirin shook her head. Alwyn turned to look at Aeron who had, only by Alwyn’s side, gathered the courage to speak.
“Mother wanted me to enroll with a Tasidarah. They were about to collect me the day I went away.” Aeron spoke, his eyes face falling down as his voice turned a disagreeing tone.
In an instant, as anger overwhelmed her, Neirin raised himself with a contemptuous finger pointed in judgment at her son,
“I have granted you every opportunity to succeed, don’t you dare raise your voice in objection.”
“I demand silence!” Alwyn commanded with one hand clenched into a fist that slammed on the table with a loud bang, “I shall hear no more of this!”
Shaken, and with a look of defeat on her face, Neirin calmed himself and reluctantly sat down and recomposed herself again.
“The boy is old enough, let him choose for himself,” Alwyn said, his eyes once again looking at Aeron as so too were his parents, “I shall offer him an alternative.”
From his pocket, he pulled out an amulet bearing the insignia of his legion and placed it on the table. His eyes once again looking squarely at Aeron,
“The Tasidarah or the Guards,” with a heavy and sincere tone of voice he asked him.
His life is split in two in front of his eyes. As he weighed the two options, questions raced through his mind. Though he craved adventure, the monotony of the Tasidarah could pave the way for him to become an academic - a life that offers immeasurable comforts over the life of a siinarai. After a brief moment of hesitation, he reached out his hand to grasp the amulet that Alwyn had brought to him.
“I choose the Guards,” He said, his eyes closing for a moment only to open again to see anger boiling within his mother’s eyes that was soothed only by the reassurance of his father. Alwyn, on the other hand, had known his answer since the beginning.
Neirin lets out a deep sigh to recompose herself, her heart seeming to have been shattered perhaps out of disappointment in her own son.
“Very well,” she said, her face reddening, “You can have him, Battlemaster, and my signature for it as well.”
“Bring me a scroll and a quill,” Alwyn commanded as Rionach obeyed, retreating from the room to retrieve a scroll and a quill, and a well-kept bottle of ink for him to write on.
Holding the scroll in his hand, he began to write,
“I, Alwyn Cathalgorchfy Jaosaryon Caernar, Battlemaster of the Guards, and Her Imperial Majesty’s Own XV, henceforth recognize Aeron Zerkaryon Cerrig’s enlistment to the Guard and the Oath of Loyalty to Gods, to Realm, and to Dominion.”
Having finished the main article of portion, he passed the paper the ink on which had yet to dry to Aeron’s parents who all read through them with care, silently nodding and giving their signatures to give their approvals. Passing the paper onto Aeron, who held it on and read it aloud for the room to hear, Alwyn gave an approving nod when he uttered a single meager “Yes,” in response.
“On your knees on, boy, over there” Alwyn commanded, Aeron whose heart still shake with stress slowly walked to the center of the room and knelt. Alwyn stood before him, his tall stature towering over him.
“Repeat after me,” Alwyn commanded as he began to recite the oath that for so many years he had not, Aeron following him after every small break,
“I swear undying loyalty to my faith, and to my Empress. I swear to faithfully execute all that the She commands, that I shall never desert service, and not seek to avoid death for the Gods, for Realm, and for Dominion. So help me, O Gods Above.”
The strong, solid words for the oath resounded across the room, its rhythm echoing across even beyond the confines of the room and gracing the ears of former siinaryon who call the settlement their home.
“Rise,” Alwyn commanded, and Aeron obeyed. A hand was placed on Aeron’s shoulder as his head lifted to look into his eyes, Alwyn nodded approvingly before turning to look at his parents. From Rionach’s eyes, he could tell that it was nostalgic for him even as his wife could only sigh in defeat.
“Would you be so kind as to provide us with lodging before we depart at dawn?” Alwyn asked, and all they could do was nod while their other children - Aeron’s sibling - returned from playing with the other children. Though they were relieved that their brother had returned home, the realization soon dawned on them, and their souls were as well overwhelmed with emotions.
For the night, as the family laid down their heads, emotions rushed through every one of them. Aeron thought about his future, and how things would be from then on whilst his parents, trapped in thoughts of losing their son to the Guards, could only lay in their bed in silence. Neirin shed a single tear despite her firm words and decisive mind; Aeron was her son, and he will remain so even as he leaves home. Tasidarah or not, all she wanted was for him to realize, if not now, then one day that she still loved him. Alwyn, on the other hand, slept peacefully. They had a long day ahead of them, one that he felt he would never forget until the day he died.
They left early in the morning after Aeron said his final goodbyes to his family. Alwyn accompanied him all the way to Dakor, where his own XV was encamped. There, a door to Aeron’s new life opened, one that, unbeknownst to him at the time, would bring about enormous changes to himself and the Realm that he serves.