Owlen Forest, Xeto's Home, Two Years Earlier
A fresh gust of wind blew through the forest. The clearing in front of the cabin was well illuminated by sunlight as cicadas sang in the distance.
Xeto swung his wooden sword horizontally.
His opponent parried the incoming attack with a wood sword of his own before riposting.
Xeto flinched as the stinging pain at his waist spread to his rips. "Hey! Roxas, that one actually hurt."
His elder brother's blank expression remained unchanged. "Again." His low voice sounded like a growl. He brought down his sword.
Xeto raised his own, successfully blocking the wood inches away from his face. His arms strained as Roxas pushed harder. He took a step back and quickly lost his footing. Before he could react, he met with the hard ground for the twelfth time in this session. He squinted as he had to endure the sun's blinding rays. "Damn it." He threw his sword aside as his ears grew warm. His nape itched from the combination of sweat and dew of the morning grass. "Ridiculous," he mumbled, as he grasped a handful of grass and ripped it from the ground.
"Sloppy stance. I was able to easily make you lose your balance. One ankle behind your opponent is all it takes. Now, get up."
Xeto put his arm over his face, shielding himself from the sun. "No." His chest heaved. "I'm tired, let me rest a bit."
"Rest? You can rest after we're done."
Xeto sat up as he rolled his eyes and threw the clump of grass aside. "Why are you being so aggressive today? We never spar this long."
Roxas knelt down beside him.
Xeto scowled. Looking at his brother felt like taking a glance into a mirror. They shared the same eye and hair color though Roxas' face was rugged and his hair seemed to be naturally untamed. The thought of how anyone who saw them together would point out their resemblance irked him further.
"See those trees?" said Roxas, as he pointed to one of the thick oaks that surrounded them. "If a hurricane were to pass tomorrow, that tree would remain rooted. Why? Because that's the way life built us. To endure. Though unfortunately unlike the forest, we have to hone our abilities and learn how to root ourselves both physically and emotionally."
Xeto scoffed. "I can root myself. I'm better than most swordfighters to date despite my age."
Roxas grinned but for second. "That's amusing coming from the one who spent most of the morning on his rear." He stood. "Now, to better answer your question. I was hired for a job to the far east. Some rich noble needs someone to deliver a package across the Nyre Valley. And I would sleep more comfortably knowing that my brother could defend himself while I'm away." He turned and walked towards their home, a small cabin which they shared with woodrats and termites.
Xeto jumped to his feet and dusted himself before following behind him. "I thought you were a mercenary, not a courier."
Roxas responded without turning. "A mercenary can be anything from a guard to a thief. The occupation is shaped by the amount of coin."
Xeto wiped the sweat from his brow. "Can I come with you?"
Roxas took a seat on the worn porch stairs. "Not a chance, little brother."
Xeto chuckled. "Because I'm not as good as the tree?"
"That's exactly why," he answered with a thin smile.
"You're right. Besides I have a job of my own now." Xeto sat in the shade of the home and leaned against the old wood.
"You do?" Roxas raised an eyebrow. "Where would that be?"
"As a hunter for the butcher in Hansel," he answered proudly. "Another hunter there offered to teach me."
Roxas sighed. "I thought I was clear when I told you not to mix with others. We don't know how long we'll remain here."
He frowned. "You've told me that every time we reach somewhere new. But we've been here for almost two years…much longer than anywhere else. This way I can learn my way with a bow and earn some coin for us." He remembered all of the times they remained without food in the past. Either from the lack of coin or the misfortune of running out while traveling. "Besides Roy…uh the other hunter… he's around my age, what could possibly happen?"
"Fine," answered Roxas as he rubbed his temples. "Just make sure you don't get too close to the people there. Now go to the river and bathe, you smell like an ozhork."
Xeto jumped to his feet with a smile. "Thank you, Roxas. I won't let you down." He circled around the cabin and continued through the forest. Finally, he would get the chance to spend time with others. For as long as he could remember, it was always just himself and Roxas on the roads. But this time it was different, he could feel it. This place could be a start of a new life for them regardless of his brother's distrusting nature. He would prove to Roxas that he could root himself and become a renowned swordsman like he'd wished.
~~~
The first signs of a new day presented themselves. The chirping of birds, the darkness of the past night broken by the warm sunlight, and a slow wind that snaked through the trees.
Xeto took a seat on the steps of his porch as we wiped away trickles of sweat from his forehead. "Phew." He inhaled as he grinned widely. There was a jolt of pleasure that came with waking before the sun and finishing all of the daily chores just as daybreak arrived. And in addition, today was the day Roxas would come home from his two-week long job. Roxas would always bring him something from his travels, be it a book from another kingdom's archives or maybe even something as simple as a seashell from a coast town.
"Where's the girl?" said a voice.
Xeto blinked rapidly as he raised his head and saw a figure walking towards him from the forest. "Roy?"
"The one and only, lad," responded the elven with a smirk. His shaggy brown hair hid his elongated ears at times. He would appear human if not for his violet eyes, a trait shared between the elven race, or rather, just his left eye, seeing as his right eye was covered by a leather eyepatch. "Don't leave me in suspense now." His usual light blue tunic was darkened by the shadows of the forest. "So, where's the girl?" he echoed.
Xeto raised an eyebrow. "Girl? What girl?"
Roy took a seat beside him. "I come to find you alone and with a grin plastered on your face, I can only assume a real beauty crossed your path." He leaned in closer. "And any woman that could make you smile like that is one I'd like to meet." He chuckled as he bumped him lightly with his elbow.
Xeto's cheeks grew warm. "Oh. I uh…I wasn't thinking about that—wait why aren't you out hunting? You're usually on your way back to the butcher with your game around this time."
"Ah, well…" Roy leaned back on one arm. "Ol' Butcher Praxis didn't open up his shop today. He had his hands full trying to find the boy who had a secret rendezvous with his daughter last night." He licked his lips before they curved into an even wider smile. "See, unlike you, I was thinking about a girl. Or rather, I did a lot more than 'think', if you catch my reel." He shot him a wink.
Xeto's mouth went dry as he leaned in. "You didn't." A wave of surprise came over him, as well as a newfound respect for his friend.
Roy pushed his hair back. "Oh yes I did, and more," he teased. He put out his hands and made the outline of a woman, as if groping an invisible maiden. "Ah that girl is a regalia of beauty with more curves than a candelabra. I have to see her again tonight."
Xeto could felt the redness in his cheeks heighten. "Are you insane? You're going to—with the daughter of a butcher, can you imagine what he'd do if he caught you?"
"Oh, I know the risks, and they're severely outweighed by the reward," answered Roy before bursting into a fit of laughter.
Xeto shook his head in disbelief before joining him in mirth. "You're insane."
"Perhaps I am. But enough about me though. Tell me, what were you waiting on out here?" Roy retained focus on him.
Xeto shrugged. "Well…Roxas is supposed come home today, so I thought I'd wait for him here."
"Ah, your brother, right? How stale," he replied, as he rolled his eyes. "What kind of job did your brother take this time? Carriage escort? Bounty hunting?"
Xeto fidgeted with nearby grass. "I've no idea, lately he has kept the details of his jobs to himself." He rubbed his chin at the thought. How long had it been since Roxas had shared a story from his travels?
"Oi. I have an idea," said Roy suddenly. "We should go to the river just up the path." He jumped to his feet. "There's this old bridge-tower there, I say we take some fishing poles and gather ourselves a feast."
Xeto sighed. "But I don't know how to fish." As the words escaped his lips, as did a wave of embarrassment for not knowing how to perform such a simple task.
"Ah, don't worry about that. I'll teach you everything you'll need to know." Roy pumped his chest. "Trust me," he said as he extended his arm.
Xeto took hold and pulled himself up. "You? I think you'll scare any potential game away with your babbling."
Roy let out a sardonic chuckle before taking the lead.
These types of trips were a common occurrence for the past month or so ever since he had begun spending more time with his new friend. Events that he would deny had occurred to Roxas.
~~~
The sound of the soft river flow echoed off throughout the forest.
"There it is," said Roy as he put out his arms in a grandiose fashion.
Xeto's eyes widened at the magnificent sight.
The structure was beyond impressive. The bridge was made of solid stone with moss-filled creases that gave it an oddly satisfying look. It stretched across the wide river, connecting two towers that seemed to extend far above the trees.
"This is amazing," said Xeto as a flower of content bloomed in his chest. Such sights were what he'd wanted to see for ages. He would have never thought one of the kingdoms marvelous architectures would be so close to home. As they continued on Xeto caught sight of a person standing at the center. It was a young girl.
She turned to face them; her elongated ears peaked through her short brown hair. "Roy, you're here." She smiled. "And you brought a friend." Her violet eyes glistened beautifully. She wore a light-colored blouse under a brown tunic.
Xeto blushed and cleared his throat as he pulled his friend aside. "Roy, is this the uh…butcher's daughter?" he whispered.
"Haha!" Roy gripped his chin as he snickered. "You'd think I'd really bring her here? Well…I probably would, but that's far from the point." He wrapped an arm around Xeto. "This is Anaria, my sister. I believe you've met before, have you not?"
"We have," stated the girl. She gripped the edges of her brown skirt as she bowed courtly. "You don't remember?" she asked as she tilted her head.
Xeto's heart beat faster as he tried recalling anything about her. Had she been with them on a hunting job before? No, maybe she visited his home before and simply couldn't recall her.
Anaria giggled softly. "You flush crimson. I take it you don't remember? It's fine, really. We've met before once when you and your brother moved here to the forest."
"What?" said Xeto between parted lips.
"It was almost two years ago I take it. Sathama and—I mean…many of the villagers sent a basket of bread and some simple potions as payment to your brother for helping around Hansel once." She looked down as she fidgeted with her fingers. "And…I was the one that brought it to your home." She quickly clasped her hands behind her back as she looked back up to him with a smile.
Xeto blinked rapidly.
Roy walked past the duo. "Ah, I think he remembers now eh?"
Xeto stood upright. It was as if she awoke new memories as it slowly came back to him. A long day of a training with Roxas, then a girl, a little elven girl with collection of small yet vibrant flowers in her hair with their beauty matched only by her lively smile. "The flower girl with the basket," he mumbled. "Sorry about not—"
"That's quite alright," she interrupted.
Roy cleared his throat loudly. "Are you two going to chat until midday? We have fish to gather," he jeered as he held the poles above his head. "Come now, little sylph, you can help me teach Xeto a thing or two."
Anaria turned and took a pole for herself as she giggled. "Alright then, let's begin.
Hours flew by like minutes as they spent their time talking, resting and jesting. Moments passed where they would remain silent and take in the orchestra of the forest. The slow waterflow of the river, cicadas chirping alongside the birds within the trees, and the occasional croak of frogs. They returned to the dirt path back to the village after they filled two pails of river carps. Rather, Roy caught most of them with Anaria taking second and lastly Xeto had caught one.
"Don't discourage yourself, many people don't even catch one on their first day," Anaria had said when she saw his disappointment of barely managing to reel in a ridicule-worthy sized carp.
Xeto felt a newfound warmth of acceptance when he was around them. Other than Roxas, he had never felt so comfortable with someone before. His brother taught him how to always trust his instincts, and to expect the worst of all people. As is the world, divided into good and bad, many would disguise one for the other and it was up to him to learn how to differentiate the chaff from the wheat. He smiled.
"There's that smirk again," exclaimed Roy. "I know a love-struck smile when I see one, lad. Come on, now. You can tell me."
Anaria smiled softly. "Roy, leave him be. If he has someone special that he cares about…" She looked met Xeto's gaze; her eyes gleaming like amethysts. "…he can keep it to himself."
The trio reached the alchemy shop, one of the largest buildings in the small settlement other than the immense town hall near the center of town.
The sign outside of the shop was heavily damaged and its lettering was far from legible. There came a crash as a large figure burst out the front door and fell into the mud.
The chubby man wore a black chest plate over a now muddied red tunic. The insignia branded on his chest revealed the soldier's alliance, though dented and dirtied, the Zuland emblem was easy to make out. He spit on the ground. "Aye! Now what's all that for, eh?" he said, his face red as his voice waivered.
Xeto's nose wrinkled as the man's voice carried the stench of one who had just reached the bottom of a bottle.
An older woman appeared at the door, the green sleeves of her dress rolled up and her arms crossed. "You're not welcome in here. You smell of piss and ale, and my shop isn't some city whorehouse for you to alleviate your carnal whims."
The man's legs wobbled as he struggled to return to his feet. He stumbled over but caught himself on the building. "Now, what's wrong with the smell of ale? The nectar of life, ale is!" He put up one hand in a stately manner.
Xeto rolled his eyes. Useless chaff. These were the type his brother warned him about. Useless men or women who spent their years being nothing better than a nuisance.
The man belched aloud as he turned his attention to the trio, droopy eyes on Anaria. "You're a pretty little thing, aye?" He licked his lips. "I've never shared a bed with a sharp-ear before."
Anaria took a step back.
Xeto's balled fist turned white. Who does this bastard think he is?
The drunken man inched closer. "Come now, don't be shy. I'll show you the might of a man of Zul—"
"What did you just say, you loitering sack of shit?" blurted Xeto. His eyes blinked rapidly as he noticed he had voiced his thoughts aloud.
Roy's eye widened before his lips curved into a smile. Didn't think you had that in you, mate." he exclaimed before shielding Anaria.
The man's face grew into a deeper shade of red. "Y-you little runts! Have you any idea of who I am?" he stuttered. He reached for the sword at his waist. "I'll teach you to respect your betters!"
The sound of freed steel brought a wave of fear as Xeto's palms dampened with sweat. Instinct took over as he reached for his dagger, a blade that Roxas had said was only for dire moments. A second later he felt a hand on his shoulder pull him back. He tumbled down and splashed into the warm mud.
A hooded man with the speed of lightning met steel with steel as his sword stopped the soldier's swing midway. Not a second later the newcomer overpowered the drunk fool and knocked his sword from his hand.
Xeto's anger faded, replaced by delight as the idiot's sword was swallowed by the mud.
The bulgy soldier now wore a mask of terror as his opponent held his sword at his throat before lowering his hood.
Xeto smiled. "Roxas."
His brother's impressive display had drawn the attention of the nearby villagers.
The Zuland soldier took a step back just to fall flat on his behind, now in a puddle of his own making. "W-wait! P-please don't hurt me." He crawled back like an injured animal before putting up a defensive hand.
"Pick up your sword and get back on your feet," said Roxas coldly. "Best you die standing, sword in hand." His dark brown coat flowed in the wind as he took a step closer to the man. He shook his head in displeasure. "Get up," he echoed.
"Spare me, sir. I'm drunk, you see…pay me no attention."
Xeto's pleasure was quenched as the soldier cradled himself, his quivering hands shielding his face.
"Didn't seem to stop you from drawing your sword on a boy." His nostrils flared. "I won't see you here again, understood?"
"Yes sir. Never again."
"Good," he replied as he sheathed his blade.
"Serves you right, pig," added the woman.
"What is the meaning of this?" a voice broke through the sea of people behind them. From between the crowd a large man broke out. He wore shined silver armor branded with the insignia of Zuland. The numerous ribbons on his chest plate defined him as an officer. "All of you disperse." He waved back at the villagers.
A few took their leave though many of them remained.
The soldier crawled towards the officer. "Commander Giase," he pointed an accusing finger at Roxas. "He…he attacked me. I was minding my own when he—"
"Shut it, and get on your feet." Giase stomped over to the group as his subordinate scampered away.
Anaria had her head bowed as she recoiled back.
"Are you abusing my men?" Giase stood face to face with his brother. He appeared taller from afar, though now that they were inches apart it seemed they shared height and nothing else. Unlike his brother, the officer had scraggly beard and untamed blonde hair.
"Your man drew a sword on a boy, my brother," said Roxas, a sharpness in his words with a calmness in his eyes.
Giase turned his glare to the woman then back to Roxas. "Sathama, I thought I made myself clear when I said these people were to respect my soldiers."
Sathama stepped forward. "The man was drunk and out of line."
Giase nodded mockingly as he licked his lips. He turned his scowl back to her. "Out of line? Do you forget who it was asked for us? It was your beloved village headman. Forget the fact that your village is miles away from our borders. This farmhand-filled heap isn't worth a single man of Zuland, and yet here we are. And now, bandits curse the thought of attacking this place. Need I remind you what would happen if we weren't here?" He huffed loudly. "Your harvest would be pillaged to the last grain. You and the rest of the women would be on your backs and defiled, carrying the pups of rancid men. That's assuming you're not killed for sport. My man's drunk antics is nothing in comparison." Giase pointed to the ground. "Our king doesn't demand a single piece of recompense. Only that you provide lodging and meals for the men."
Unsavory thoughts flooded Xeto's mind. Though he bit his tongue, voicing any now would only provoke the commander further.
"And you, boy," Giase turned to Roxas. "I've no idea who you are, but I know you're not from here. A sell-sword or traveler no doubt. Drawing your blade on a man of the kingdom is an offense punishable by death. Consider yourself fortunate. Don't cause trouble with my men again, or I'll cleave your head from your shoulders."
Roxas remained still-faced.
Xeto's eyes darted from man to man, eager to hear his brother's response, wanting him to put the commander in his place. But to his surprise, his brother remained silent.
Giase shot a final glare at Xeto before taking his leave and disappearing into the crowd. "Make way," echoed his voice.
Xeto swallowed hard. "Why didn't you say anything? Or better yet, knock him on his ass."
"Because…Xeto, at times no action is the best action. You can't simply beat down everyone you don't like. What were you thinking involving yourself in these people's conflicts?"
Xeto felt small, the weight of embarrassment forced his head down as all eyes were on him. It seemed that lectures were the play of the day, and now it would be his turn. "I just wanted to help…" Wait. He wasn't wrong, though not entirely. He faced his brother's scowl once more. "But how is that any different than what you did? I was help—"
"No, you intervened into matters that didn't concern you. I only stepped in to right your wrong."
A bulge formed in Xeto's throat. "But he was—"
"I don't care what was said," interrupted Roxas. "Come now, let's return home." He gave his back, and beckoned him to follow.
Xeto felt a pit in his gut, and above all, humiliation. He balled his fists. "No," he retorted.
Roxas turned back and raised an eyebrow, his usual mundane look in his eyes. "Really?" He scoffed before continuing away from the village. "Then don't return until you've swallowed that pride."
Warm tears formed under Xeto's eyes. His ears grew warmer, a symptom of fighting the threat of disappointment. He ran for the forest past everyone, he didn't care where he ended up, anywhere was better than here.
"Xeto," called a voice behind him. Was it Roy? Anaria? It didn't matter now as he entered the shadows of Owlen.