Prologue
It was late at night. The moon ways hiding behind the clouds so only the stars illuminated the sky. Wind rustled against a small house. Creaking wood and howling wind made it sounded like there was a monster right outside the door.
I didn’t know it then, but in a way, there was.
I laid in my small bed covered by a thin blanket, trying to fight off the cold. I could see red and orange light leak through the cracks in my door coming from the kitchen. The smell of burning oil was strong.
I could hear my parents talking, though it didn’t sound like it was about anything good. They were too quiet to hear, and I thought about getting up and going over to the door to listen. After a moment of thinking I decided to get up. The stone floors were cold on my bare feet. I shivered. Once I reached the door, I cracked it open just enough to see my parents face.
My mother who had a soft face and caring eyes were now filled with worry and dread and my father who tough appearance now looked weak and sad.
What was going on?
“Maybe we can beg them to let you stay?” My mother wondered.
“You know they won’t allow that. If I disobey I’ll be sentenced to death.” My father said.
“You’re being sentenced to death by going,” My mother complained. “And what about Kyle? He needs you.”
“I’m sorry dear, but I have no choice. I’ll fight my way through the war and make my way back to you and Kyle.” My father promised.
“I’ve heard most men die before they even get on the battle field because they are worked too hard.” My mother complained.
“I’ll try to stay alive.” My father promised.
“You better.” My mother cried.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw orange lights coming down the path through my window. I ran over to see what it was. Multiple horses carrying people in golden uniforms covered in medals were making there way to our house. People in heavy armor walked behind them and people carrying lanterns were spread out throughout the group.
About a minute layer there was a knock on the door. I ran back over to my door to see what was going on. At the door stood a largely fat man with a chubby face. He snapped his fingers and a thin man dressed in rags came forward holding a scroll.
“So you’re Mr. Leon? Hmm, I was expecting something more, but after a while of picking up so many of these useless, what’s the word, oh right peasants you can’t really expect much.” The man laughed which was joined in by the other man dressed in gold.
“Oh, please sir you can’t take my husband to war. We’re struggling enough as it is and we have a son to look after.” My mother begged.
“Pitiful, you beg for your husband to not go into war? I should sentence you both to death for treason on not serving your king. But because I’m so very generous I’ll forgive you this once. Now Mr. Leon, we should be making our leave. I do hope for the best for you Mrs. Leon and your son.” The man said.
Without another word my father left the the house with all the other people, leaving my mother alone in the kitchen. Crying.
I wanted to go out there. I wanted to see her smile, but how could either of us smile when my father was just taken away.
It’s been a few weeks and we haven’t heard anything. I didn’t know if that was good or bad, but it was painful to not know.
My eleventh birthday was coming up in a few days and I hoped my father would come home to celebrate. My mother tried her best to smile, but everyone could see underneath it.
On one rainy night, when the clouds covered all light and the winds brought a numb feeling to all, the worst became true. A man dressed in a sad, black coat with a matching hat knocked on our door.
“Excuse me, is this the Leon’s house.” The man said.
My mother gave a slow nod.
“I hate to be the one to say this, but sadly your husband has passed. I am so very sorry for your loss.” The man said with a sympathetic face.
My mother grabbed for her heart and collapsed to her knees. Terrible cries fell from her mouth and rivers of tears fell from her eyes. I was listening from my room and the news hit like a mountain of ice. My body was numb, my breathing was panicked, and it felt like my whole world was turned upside down then torn apart.
I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t want to do anything.
I just wanted someone to tell me it would be alright.
That everything would be okay.
Instead of celebrating my birthday we mourned the death of my father. The person who delivered the news of his death said they couldn’t bring his body to be buried, so we mourned an empty grave.
Less than a year later my mother went missing and shortly after was reported dead. I had no other relatives so I was put into an orphanage. Some nights I would be on the brink of starvation and others I was on the verge of freezing. Hardly anyone ever left the orphanage with a family.
I was usually by myself most of the time. I didn’t try to make any friends and the kids who tried to be one with me soon realized I wasn’t worth the effort.
That was my life and it doesn’t get much better.
