A few days later and Saiph's injuries had mostly soothed to a lapse. The boy never confronted his father regarding the matter and the father never brought up how the boy had received such wounds.
Saiph was currently aiding his father in preparation for the upcoming bi-annual tax collection from Veritate. The Glendoveers' field had no wheat in it, unlike many of their neighbors', so they weren't exempt from this period. Wheat took a large part of the year to plant, grow, and process so any families designated as wheat-growers would only have to worry about this process once a year.
Saiph and his father, however, had their last batch of corn to harvest. Saiph was off in the field by himself while his father was doing… something. Saiph didn't really know. Walking through the rows, harvesting the few remaining ripe husks- it was pretty boring.
"Hmm," he wondered aloud. "Why did father need the plow yesterday, anyway? The corn is still unharvested."
A few hours later and the Sun had already set. While the work was boring, Saiph was plenty used to the monotony. It was surprisingly easy to get caught up in one's thoughts after a while and just zone out.
Saiph sighed and started back down the hill with the day's last cart-load of corn. The faint residue of the Sun's overwhelming luminance reflected off the sky from behind the horizon and lit Saiph's way down the hill.
The day was perfectly mundane- just how Saiph liked it. His entire life had been one of normality and the mundane everyday troubles of life on a farm, so he didn't expect much else. The only time things ever changed up around there was when the tax-collectors came by or his father was drunk enough that he did something erratic or hilarious.
Actually, he recalled, there was a few times that a beast of some sort would pop up in the area and they would all have to hide inside for a few hours while the Academy sent someone out to kill it.
Hence, if the day wasn't going normally, then that would mean that his father was hammered and doing something stupid.
Saiph wheeled the wagon around the back of his house and over to the underground silo. He opened the hatch, dumped the corn in, and closed the hatch. Even though the wagon had hundreds of ears of corn in it and clearly wasn't a wheelbarrow, Saiph didn't struggle much to dump them. Maybe he would have a few years ago, but not at this point.
As his last stop of the day, Saiph brought the old cart to the side of the house and put a worn-out cloth mat over it. Orion, the world Saiph lived on, rained frequently enough. That, alongside its naturally rich soil, led to it becoming the agricultural hub of humanity.
Grain and vegetables of all sorts were shipped to all the worlds under humanity's -- and consequentially, the Academy's -- ruling. That was why each and every farmer had to do their part and manage as much land as they can. At least, that's what the tax-collectors say.
Saiph walked around from the side of the house to the door and entered. Ever since the incident a few days back, he had refrained from dilly-dallying amok in the adjacent wheat fields.
As soon as he entered, he smelled the faint aroma of roasted corn. Corn, corn, corn. Saiph was pretty sure that eating nothing but corn and stale bread every day was unhealthy in some way but never questioned his parents regarding the matter. He knew that if they could be eating better they would be.
Saiph entered the main room and saw his mother in the process of cooking the corn and his father sat in his usual position at the table. Saiph sometimes passively wondered where his parents had gotten the ability to even afford a wooden table and the 3 accompanying chairs.
After silently addressing his father by way of nodding and sitting down in his usual seat, Saiph put his head down in his arms and stayed quiet while awaiting the meal.
A plate soon arrived in front of the young boy's face. It was, indeed, corn and bread. Of course, it was eaten quickly and with no complaints to follow.
Saiph said his thanks and went outside to the other side of the house. He took off his clothes and did them a quick wash with the reserve of river water before hanging them up on the clothesline. He then went back to his room and laid in his bed.
Saiph didn't have a blanket. His parents supposedly couldn't afford it. That, on top of him only having 2 sets of clothes led to some bone-cold nights since he couldn't wear his off set overnight; the other one wouldn't dry without the sun for the next day's work.
Thus Saiph lay alone in his small room, naked and cold, for a while. Could have been 30 minutes. Could have been 2 hours. Saiph wasn't sure.
Suddenly, his door swung open and smashed against the wall.
BANG
Saiph jumped up and went to guard himself against the man who had just charged into his room- his father.
Unexpectedly, no blows came. The man appeared heavily intoxicated but, besides that, carried no air of hostility.
"Yes, Pa?" Saiph called out after a moment's silence.
"Saiph, kid, ya gotta… ya hafta make it ta da Academy. I fuckin' need those tax cuts. I'm fuckin' tired, man. I'm 38, ya know?! I only have 12 years left in me." The man seemed just utterly exhausted through his speech and, at the end of his spiel, started to bawl.
Saiph stared back at his father in awe and fear. He had never seen his dad cry- never. He was an angry drunk, normally.
"What do you mean… 12 years left, Pa?" Saiph asked after a moment.
"Saiph ya dumb sonuvabitch. Ya know wha'? Yer almos' a man now. Everyone fuckin' dies at the age of 50, kiddo. Unless ya can get off this shitty world. BUT GUESS WHAT?! YA FUCKIN' CAN'T!" He started yelling loud enough to hurt Saiph's ears.
Saiph winced and called out, "Pa, just calm down you'll be okay. You just have to think about it when you're sober and-"
"And what?! Saiph, I sure as fuck hope for your sake that you get into the Academy." The man started talking a bit more clearly all of the sudden.
"Life as a mortal fucking blows and I hope that you fucking realize it. The shit you've suffered from me ain't nothing compared to what my dad took out on me. Thank Heaven your sister made it into the Academy with talent as high as it is. Maybe she'll be the one who brings the Glendoveer name out of the shadows."
Saiph and his father sat in silence for a few moments after his sister was brought up. Velvet was admitted into the Academy one and a half years ago and usually wasn't brought up lightly.
"Saiph," the teary-eyed man spoke, suddenly. "I had 2 children older than you and your sister, but neither had the potential to become mages. At least, that's what those bastards told me. Where did they go?! Why didn't they come home?! Where'remyboys, Sif?" He ended off in an almost incomprehensible slur and started bawling once more.
Saiph felt his heart palpitate and color drain from his face. He felt a very cold chill creep into his spine and spoke, "What do you mean, Pa?"
"It doesn't matter," was the only response Saiph received. "All ya gotta know is tha' ya hafta get into the Academy, ight? For your good and mine."
"Yessir. I will get in as a brave hero!" Saiph blatantly stated with a firm expression worn on his face.
"No, no, no. That won't do. Yer sister could kick yer arse and she's a girl, ya pansy."
The cynical dampener on Saiph's dreams made him feel stupid immediately. He quietly asked, "Then what should I do?"
"Go find somethin' else to do ta show off. Fuckin' alchemy or blacksmithin' or some shit. I can work the fuckin' farm this next tax cycle, ight? Even if they whip me half to death it'll be worth if ya can get in. Get yer arse to the town tomorrow and find someone to teach ya. Now go to bed. Close Your Eyes. Sleep tight..." Saiph's father started rambling off different ways of saying goodnight as he shambled out of the room and back down the hallway.
Saiph slowly got off his bed, closed his door, and laid back down. Despite his best wishes, the boy knew he was going to be haunted by his thoughts and nightmares all through the night.