Alexander had woken up extra early this morning to sheer the sheep. It had gone quicker than usual. Those annoying animals didn't resist as much.
He was now carrying the wool from the sheep to the grumpy weaver. His small head of straight red hair and black eyes were buried within the basket overflowing with wool. But, something was off. The villagers were acting weird.
Al saw one of his friends, William, with his mother. William saw him too and wanted to run over to him.
But his mother held him back. As she looked at Al she reminded him of William when he had to eat broccoli.
"Young Alexander, where are your clothes?"
Al heard village elder, Torstein, talk and turned around to the small hunchbacked old man.
"It's too hot, don't want'em."
He laughed a little. "Good thinking, but you need to wear clothes."
"Why?"
"Because the villagers don't want to see you naked."
"Why?"
"Because it's unbecoming."
"Why?"
"Because… umm… I don't know."
"Okay, goodbye~"
Seeing there was no reason for him to act differently, Al smiled and continued on his walk, while the elder was left behind, stupefied.
After bringing out the wool, Al quickly gobbled down his breakfast: a rock-hard bread and a bowl of milk. He had to get out of the house before mom came back. He jumped down from his stool and rushed out of the house.
However, a few steps before freedom, a dark shadow blocked the stone doorway. Unable to stop, Alexander crashed straight into his mother.
"Leaving so soon, are you, Al?" The evil woman stomped off the morning dew on her shoes as in came to take his freedom.
Al rubbed his hurting head, "Come on, mom. I already sheered the sheep this morning."
"Then you can put on some clothes and feed the horses, can't you?" Her pretty face smiled while she pointed to the wheelbarrow next to her.
"But, mom!"
"No, buts. Get it done!"
Grumbling, Al put on a brown shirt and a pair of shorts before going out to pick up the wheelbarrow. He pushed the wheelbarrow around the house to get hay from the back of their little wood cottage.
The hay was in a big wooden bin that leaned against the cobbled house walls. The lid was a little wet from the morning dew as he pushed it open.
He transferred the hay to the wheelbarrow and pushed it to the stables next to the house. On his way, he passed by the sheered sheep.
As he arrived, the horses neighed, in delight at the arrival of their chum. Al grabbed the pitchfork near the entrance of the stable. It was heavy and so he wobbled a little bit. But, once he had his balance, Al started shoveling the hay into each of the horse's feed bins, and they started eating right away.
Of course, he left the biggest portion for Roach, his father's mule. The strong, black mule was the only reminder mom had of his father, so he always made sure to keep her healthy. He remembered how devastated she was when Roach got sick once.
"Crack."
Al spun the pitchfork around at the noise behind up in him, but a strong force stopped the pitchfork in midair.
"Wow! calm down, little man."
Dorian stood in front of him. He was a lanky guy with dark brown hair and a short beard. Al had been told he was in his mid-thirties, so as old as his mom. He had on his typical crimson leather armor with the emblem that designated him as the Nientel Guard's captain. When Al saw it was Damian he let the pitchfork down in relief.
"Oh, it's you."
"What'd you think I was? An evil beast?"
"You never know what'll attack you," Al said puffing up his little chest.
"That's why this village has guards like me, Al."
"I can fight too."
"You are too unruly and immature. Maybe when you're twelve."
"I am twelve."
"Really? You're as tall as an eight-year-old."
"Oi, rude," Al said, as his leg kicked up hitting a pair of nards, and walked away.
"Point and case," Dorian mumbled through his pain.
His mother no longer being there to keep him in line, Al walks downhill from their cottage into the village, heading for Ganji's house. There Al agilely jumps through an open window into the living room and looked for the magic crystal.
It was lying in its usual spot, on the cabinet. After jumping onto the sofa, he slapped it a few times until it started humming before it projected images projected onto the wall.
Sounds of cheering came out of the crystal as the man on the tiger and the beautiful woman paraded on the wall.
It was just so cool.
He watched the footage in its entirety as he did so many times.
In the middle of it, Ganji passed through the room, ignoring Al. 'He doesn't get angry anymore,' thought Al.
The footage continued to play as Al reveled in the dream of becoming just like these people. They seemed so strong and carefree. Especially that tiger man, he seemed like he could do whatever he wanted.
People always looked at dissatisfaction whenever he did what he wanted, what he was thinking. But not tiger man. 'He could probably walk around naked, and no one would dare look disgusted,' he thought. 'If I were him I would go explore everything in this world.'
After the video finished, Al noticed a sound coming from the window he used to get into the room. He looked over to see Damian again.
"That was a mean kick," Dorian looked at the video playing on the wall, "You like adventurers?"
"What?"
"That's what those people in the footage are," Dorian said pointing at the guy on the tiger, "You didn't know that?"
"No. I just thought they look awesome!"
"You know, Lucille's gonna kill you if she finds out," Dorian looked nostalgic as he looked at the footage.
"Mom? Why?" At the mention of mom, Al was interested.
"She finds them infuriating. She married one, and then he took off."
Al wanted to ask more, but from Damian's pained expression he knew not to push it. Though, 'My father was an adventurer! cool!' he thought.
"Guard Captain! we need you at the east gate!" Al saw a young man, he didn't remember the name of, in leather armor come running calling for Damian.
"Alright see you around, kiddo!"
"Bye!"
Alexander stayed in Ganji's house a little more, before he wanted to go play with William and the others. He was excited as he knew they were going to play tag today.
Al had always been the best at tag, he was the quickest, so no one could catch him. He darted from one place to another, from rooftop to rooftop. It was fun to outrun the others at first, but over time It got boring.
His mind kept on going back to the footage at Ganji's. Ever since he saw it a week ago, it won't leave his mind.
He also saw that his friends were getting frustrated with how good he was. So, not wanting to ruin the game for them, he decided to go home. He returned to his mom's cottage outside the village, near the wooden village ramparts.
As Al walked up the gravel path on the hill, he heard voices:
"He's just a kid, Dorian!"
"But he's also his father's son. It's in his blood. You didn't see how wrapped up in that recording he was. He's going to. What it comes down to is whether you support him or not!"
"Oh, Six Spirits help me," Al's mom said, in a tone new to him.
Al reached home to see her and Dorian standing in the vegetable garden in front of the cottage. Mom had on a green apron to cover her white dress, there were red splotches on it. She must have been making tomato soup.
Her arms were holding one another as she talked to Dorian, her fair, upbeat face under her brown hair revealing an unfamiliar fragility.
"What's going on?"
Seemingly startled to see Alexander both their heads spun over to him. They didn't respond, instead Dorian looked at his mom.
"What's going on?" Al asked again.
His mother sighed and nodded at Dorian.
"Your mom and I talked. I am going to take you into the Nientel Guard."
"Huh?"
"You wanna be an adventure, right? You are going to need strength. As the captain of the Nientel Guard, I am going to train you."
A smile grew on Al's face.
"Thank you, Dorian! Thank you, Mom!"