The sound of the morning bell rang out, causing Francis to bolt upward in bed.
"It's earlier than usual," Michael grunted as he sat up. "What gives?"
Francis’ eyes shot open, and he clutched his aching chest, groaning.
"Francis, you okay?!" Michael asked.
Turning his head, he saw Michael swinging his legs over the bed.
"Yeah… you… I…"
It really wasn’t a dream! The skill! I do come back!
“My chest hurts… probably just heartburn from the cold dinner and old peppers they fed us last night.”
A snort came from his brother, who leaned over and grabbed his boots. “Better than the alternative. Nothing worse than blowing it out the back end. Now hurry up, I don’t want to be late and get in trouble.”
Moving by instinct, Francis sat up and retrieved his own boots, eyes primarily on his status.
[ Status ]
Francis Lancaster
Age 17
Strength:
13
Endurance:
17
Agility:
12
Wisdom:
12
Perception:
10
Magic:
10
Skills
Swordsmanship (Common) – 17 Novice
Shield Use (Common) - 14 Novice
Tracking (Uncommon) - 10 Basic
Stealth (Uncommon) - 11 Novice
Traps (Uncommon) - 3 Basic
Rock Throwing (Common) - 7 Basic
Mental Resist ( Uncommon ) - 19 Novice
Blood of the Undying ( Unknown )- 100+ Sage
Fast Learner (Epic) - 1 Basic (Locked)
My swordsmanship… it really did go up. The Fast Learner rocks!
Michael grunted at him. “You going to sit there holding your boot like that or put it on? Seriously, what’s wrong with you today?”
Slipping his foot into his boot, Francis pulled it on, making sure not to damage the spot he knew was weak. “Just trying to figure out what kind of pain Phillip has in store for us today.”
“That bastard? Who knows. All that matters is that we’re not late to line up.”
***
"Good news! I was just told we'll be moving out in two days! Five days earlier than expected!"
Francis only half listened as the words he had heard twice already played out again. He had too many questions running through his mind and wasn’t sure how to make sense of everything.
A statement he had been waiting for brought his attention back to the present.
"Who are we joking? None of you has anything worth the early bird getting up for. Now then!" Exclaimed Phillip as he clapped his hands. "Let's make this fun. The last one to Macenburg only gets three silver! The first gets two more! Now go!"
Francis moved quickly, getting between Malcomb and everyone else.
The oldest boy paused, frowning as he stood there a moment, eyes darting at Francis and the other trainees who took off running.
“Mess with him or me and I’ll hold you back and make sure you’re last,” Francis growled.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Malcomb asked, setting his feet and lifting his fists. “I’ll kick your arse.”
“Maybe you will, maybe you won't. The problem is, you definitely won’t win the race if we fight. Look, they’re already getting ahead of you.”
With a head motion, Francis pointed out the group of boys, who hadn’t wasted time and were already sprinting away.
Malcomb glared at Francis after giving a glance at the others who were leaving them behind. “I’ll take care of you when we get to town,” the bully shouted as he started to turn.
“Mess with any of them, and I’ll beat your arse!” he shouted.
Something in his chest swelled, and Francis realized he felt fantastic.
I really would have fought him right here and now.
“Well, someone’s grown a pair. Tell me, Lancaster, are you content with being last?"
Francis turned and saw Phillip standing there, arms crossed, looking him up and down. His usual smirk was plastered on his scarred face.
"No, just giving them a chance. I'll be first anyway," Francis replied.
Phillip roared with laughter and shook his head. "Oh, I doubt that, boy. There’s no way Malcomb will let you get past him without a fight. The only way that happens is if you go through the woods, and I don’t think you really understand how bad that stream is."
"Willing to bet? If I win, I receive ten silver coins. If I lose, you get my silver."
His trainer cocked his head, frowning as he moved to stand before Francis.
"You feeling lucky? I know you’ve been to the stream. I’ve seen your traps when I’ve scouted those woods. That’s a fool's path because other things besides water can kill you out there."
"I'd bet more,” Francis replied, “but I don't have anything else to offer. "
Phillip’s lips moved for a second, and no words came. Grunting, he finally replied.
“Your words, not mine. You win, I'll give you fifteen. You lose... well, trust me, you don’t want to do that."
"Sounds like a bet. I guess I'd better get started."
Francis took off towards the woods, glancing once over his shoulder at the older man, who was grinning from ear to ear, making that scar look extra wicked.
"You better not die or run away! If you do, I’ll take it out on your brother!"
A fire grew in his stomach as Francis clenched his jaw, fighting against stopping and saying something he shouldn’t. Instead, he focused on the trees ahead. He had done this before and knew he was about to be fifteen silver richer.
***
"I made a bet, and I'll honor it," growled Phillip. "How you managed to win by that much, I don't know, but we'll see how much all this helps you when we reach the front line."
With that, their trainer turned and strode off.
As the man started to vanish, Francis spun, fist clenched, and glared at Malcomb.
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled.
The bully stopped, mid-stride, his eyes blinking. “What the–”
“You try and take my coin, I’ll knock you out and leave you on the street. When you wake up, you won’t have any silver left to spend.”
Every other teenager slowly moved back except Francis’ brother, who had shifted slightly to his side.
Malcomb glanced at him and then at Michael before frowning. “Screw you! You’re just lucky I’m not in the mood to get in trouble with Phillip for beating you two up.”
Not relaxing his stance, Francis nodded and waited. Seconds passed, and finally the bully turned and left, walking quicker than usual.
“Who the heck are you and what happened to my pissant brother?” Michael whispered before the other trainees started to gather.
“I’m just tired of his constant bullying. Thanks for backing me up,” Francis muttered.
“Sure thing. I mean, what kind of older brother would I be if I stood here and did nothing?”
Laughing, Francis turned and punched his brother before motioning to the town. “How about we go get ourselves something to drink? And remember, no spending coins at the whorehouse.”
“Fine,” Michael sighed. “I’ll behave, Mom.”
***
"You're certain you want a helm?” Tom the armorsmith asked. “If you haven't trained with one, it might be hard to fight with one."
"I'm certain," Francis stated as the armorsmith stared at him. The large man had arms crossed over his large chest. "Tell me I'm wrong. Not having one would be foolish in a fight like what we are headed into."
"No... you're right... Which is surprising, because I'm certain most of your companions spent all their money last night at the local house of pleasure."
Sighing, Francis shrugged. "I'd like to consider a lifetime of enjoying that versus one night. Besides, a brother of mine got a case of crotch rot, and I really don't want to risk that before a battle."
Francis smiled as the large man nodded as he spoke. With a chuckle, Tom turned around and pulled three different types of helmets from the shelf behind him.
Yes! The way I spoke this time worked! He’s grabbing the same three I remember.
"No, that wouldn't make for a good time at all,” the armorsmith said. “Very well, let's try these three."
Two of the three helmets that the armorer had sat upon the counter were padded leather variations.
"This one is actually more than you have, but I'll be honest. A part of me wants to offer it if you're willing to give me all your silver."
"All my silver?"
Holding up a chain helmet with a padded cap underneath, the armorer nodded.
"I know you got seven silver. I also won a little bit last night at the gate, betting on you. I could see the fire in your eyes as that older one chased you down. For that... let's assume you have six silver, as I know what the fee was last night at the Dancing Bear. I'll let you have it for five, which means you can enjoy one more night of drinking and eating. If you live, come back one day and give me the other fifteen silver I would normally need for such a helm."
Francis tried not to smile and did his best to act as if giving up such a large sum would be a painful experience.
If only he knew how much I really had.
"And if I die?"
"Just make sure it happens from a blow to some other part of your body," he replied with a grin.
Not waiting, Francis pulled out five pieces of silver and set them on the counter.
"Sounds like a deal. Hopefully, I can pay you back someday."
The older man nodded and frowned.
His large, stubby fingers slid the coins off the wooden counter and into his other hand.
"Truthfully, if you live, we have won a battle. That alone would give me hope that we can win this war. You know what we're facing, don't you?"
Grimacing, Francis shrugged.
"I’ve heard rumors… before we signed up to fight. Seems impossible."
Tom grunted and nodded.
“Just kill as many as you can, and try to live.”
***
Feeling confident now that he’d secured the helm he wanted, Francis decided to begin the next part of his plan: he had to inform his brother about what they would face.
"You're serious about those beastkin... like absolutely certain?" Michael asked.
Francis nodded, knowing how he needed to steer this conversation.
I can't afford to mess this up.
Remembering how it had happened just a few days ago, Francis did his best to ensure his brother didn't freak out too much. “I’ve been having some dreams. Lately, they’ve been coming true. I know you’re going to call bullshit, but trust me. I’m not wrong.”
Michael frowned and stared at him, giving Francis the you’re full of it look when his brothers’ eyes narrowed like that.
“I’d swear on both our lives,” Francis said. “When the battle starts, you’ll know I’m right.”
“B-both our lives?” his brother asked, a slight tremor in his tone. “You’ve only ever used that phrase once before… If that’s the case, how bad is it?”
Francis tried to look brave but knew it was going to be hard to lie or tell the complete truth. So instead, he made it up as best as he could.
When the mood in their room had been a little dark for a bit, Francis found himself searching for something within during the silence.
“Michael… can you tell me some of your favorite memories of you and me together?” Francis asked.
His brother gave him a weird look, frowning and raising an eyebrow. “Favorite memories? Besides us getting beaten up by our brothers? Or your dad wants to kill me? Or–”
“Something we both enjoyed. Like… the good times.” Francis said.
Michael took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Uh… I remember when we got in trouble for sneaking into that strawberry field and eating our weight in them. I think the worst part wasn’t the beating, it was the runs afterwards. Or when we found those poles at that pond, and you fell in trying to bring that fish you said was a monster. And then–”
As his brother spoke, Francis could feel the story of the fishing incident missing. His mind said it had never happened, but in his chest, Francis could feel the truth. It was there. A part of him was missing, and it was time spent with Michael. Francis focused on the stories and felt a sense of something returning. Something had been stolen from him, and Michael was helping him get a piece of it back.
“Why are you smiling like that?” his brother asked. “You got lice from using that girl's hairbrush.”
Francis shrugged and just smiled. “Sometimes it’s just nice to know I’m not the only one who enjoys remembering when the other one gets in trouble.”
In that moment, the fear of what they were going to face lessened as both boys shared a little bit of the memories they were fond of.
I’ll need to do this more often… something inside me needs this… I need this…
***
"So what happens if someone touches one of these feathers?" Francis asked loud enough to fill the space they stood in.
"For the love of the kingdoms, don't do that!" exclaimed the guard from across the tent. "Doing so would cause this place to be filled with dangerous smoke that could kill us. Surely someone told you about this, right?"
Phillip cocked his head and shook it. "No one gave me any warnings about that."
"Must have slipped their mind," the guard replied. "Now then, you’ve all been in here enough. You can all leave."
It took every ounce of willpower Francis had not to push the issue and ask Phillip if he thought someone had intentionally withheld information. Doing so could go badly, and with how everything changed so fast due to a single variable, he couldn’t risk that right now. All he knew was that he needed to be beside his brother tomorrow and figure out a way through the battle so that they both didn’t end up dead like they had the last time.
***
“You weren’t joking, were you?” Michael whispered as they lay near each other in the tent. “All of this… how bad does it get?”
Francis gave the best reassuring grin that he could.
“No matter what happens, stay by me.”
When no response came from Michael, Francis rolled over and closed his eyes, trying to focus on what he recalled from the first battle.
Now all I need to do is get some rest, find a way to actually sleep, and see if anything changes.