The question immediately arose of how I would join as a recruit when I also needed to avoid letting the general see me. Mom insisted he would recognize her, though that seemed unlikely to me.
He hadn’t seen her for over twenty years, and she was dressed as a farmer now. No longer Atrinaska Estermont. What fleeting recognition he might find would be snuffed out the second he looked at her clothes.
When pressed, she conceded that I looked more like she did twenty years ago, than she did now, making it even more dangerous for me.
I took after my mother in many ways. My hair was still red, though brighter than hers, Dad’s blond coloring brightening Mom’s auburn, and I had her olive green eyes. That was where the similarities ended, though. While my skin was tanned from hours spent in the fields and more hours spent tinkering at my lab, she had been pale as a ghost when she was my age. She spent her childhood in a gilded world, and while I was mildly jealous of that, I didn’t think I could complain.
After all, she hadn’t continued her life as a noble. Instead, she’d taken the opportunity to marry a farmer and start a life in a little town, far away from politics and nobles. She’d ensconced herself in the community, and they’d welcomed her with open arms.
I was determined to get the story of how they met out of them one day. It had to be a good one.
My Uncle showing up presented a wonderful opportunity for me to have him take the pepper paste barrels. I didn’t even need to get the general involved and my little prank remained unaffected. Just… one wagon was going to smell even worse than the others.
Mom had finished somewhere around twenty of them at this point. Giving half to the army and keeping the other half for the defense of the town sounded like a fair trade to me. Mom was a bit of a mercenary, and it made her teeth ache to part with so much of the product for free.
Then again, the real profit wouldn’t come from what we could make ourselves. It would come from investors, and that two percent when the army realized how useful the stuff could be. This was just the free sample. All three armies would be buying soon enough.
My uncle and I walked tiredly back to the house, my plans irrevocably derailed by the news of the upcoming draft, but when we got there, I found my parents curled up on the bed, fast asleep. Mom must have gotten home shortly after Dad.
Marnacus hadn’t wanted to wake either of them, and so had determined to give them at least a few hours' sleep. It was likely all they were going to get.
We’d parted with a hug, while he promised that if everything went as he expected and I truly was drafted along with every other eighteen to twenty-five-year-old in the town, he’d make sure to get me a good assignment in the backlines.
My conscience was satisfied by that. Yes, I’d join when the general called a draft, but I wasn’t going to actively go looking for the front line. The army had healers. Why not crafters? Surely I could slot right in with the blacksmiths and the bowyers, right?
I still hadn’t used my free points yet, and they felt like they were burning a hole in my menus. The last thing I wanted was to be placed in combat before I even had the chance to prove my worth by crafting.
Mom had laid out pretty clearly how she thought I should spend my points. Priority one was survival. Running, Footwork, Endurance. Second priority was the social skills to help with my talent. Third was combat. Add magic in if and when I managed to get the Mana Pool and Mana Regeneration skills above level 30. She said there was also a third important skill called Mana Control that improved the quality of spells I cast, but it was best to get me throwing fireballs first.
After my uncle left, I felt… adrift. I needed to talk to Mom about this, and I should probably make myself scarce in the meantime. She’d been hesitant to reveal exactly how the general knew her. Only that he would not be happy to see her.
Murderously unhappy.
I didn’t think that would extend to me. From the sounds of things, I’d much rather join Neogon’s army, and it felt like crafting for the group of people fighting the invaders would be a quicker way to end the war than just helping the force holding the gate shut.
Then again, closing the rift breaks was important too. Mitoras and Lindolen had already paid the price for the lapse in the defenses, and I knew there were several other towns in the way to the rift.
‘Perhaps if we disrupted Eschal’s rift defenses, we could force them back into their own lands,’ I thought. It seemed like a solid strategy to me, but what the hell did I know about war?
Mom seemed certain that Eschal had figured out something about the rift, which is what made them think they could invade a country half again their size and population successfully in the first place. None of us had any clue why they’d invaded, though. Land expansion? Greed?
Not even Mom had a good guess there. Eschal and Tacuria had been allies even before the rift, both exchanging supplies and sometimes even armies to defend against their neighbors, Rechin Amut and Charlost.
My mana was slowly regenerating, but it needed to be in a constant state of regeneration for a few days to pick up the actual skill. This was much easier to do after unlocking Mana Pool for obvious reasons. More mana meant it took more time to regenerate, which meant I didn’t really have to keep wasting time boiling water with my level one Fire Magic.
There were a lot of things I could be doing. I needed to take a measure of the needs of those between eighteen and twenty-five and see if there were any differences between them and those of the people who would surely be staying behind.
I should be making sure everyone in town knew the draft was coming. Even if there were only a few short hours between now and midday, when Marcus implied he would announce the draft. I saw the logic. Get everyone to bring you the food you’d demanded, and then you’d have everyone there when you asked for more. No need to go round up everyone. No need to give them time to build up resentment.
Just enough time for a goodbye.
I would do that. I would begin letting everyone know. Oxana and Teskin were both within the age range. Akkiwa might dodge it by sheer accident.
There were also the trader’s kids, who’d gotten their common and uncommon talents respectively. I’d never much cared for Revorun or Enota, but they had a right to know, if they were in town and hadn’t scurried their trade wagons up to Denarla anyway. I hadn’t seen them in the bar in a few days.
Hadra?
Would she somehow be dragged into it too?
I’d run to each and every one of them and make sure they all knew what was coming. Before that, though, my feet took me past the bar and to a familiar path, almost without meaning to. The smell of dead deer barely even pinged my nostrils anymore by comparison to the rotting bags of harvested trolls and pepper paste.
The Hunter’s Lodge smelled like comfort. Like warm things cooking and wet leather being tanned. It smelled like Reid.
I found him there, as usual, skinning something. It was just a rabbit. Deer had become scarce with the approach of the army and the trolls. It was a subtle thing, but I knew we’d come to miss the venison in the coming months.
Or… well. Everyone else would. It looked like I’d be marching south.
He beamed when he saw me. Then he frowned as he noticed my expression.
“Mera? What’s wrong?” he asked.
I didn’t say anything. Just walked up to him and buried my face in his tunic.
“Mera!?” he asked, panic rising.
“It’s okay, Reid. I just… I’m scared, Reid.”
He settled, wrapping his arms gently around me after he tugged off his gloves.
“Scared? You? Never thought I’d see the day.”
“It’s–it’s a draft, Reid,” I told him. “We’re… we’re going to war.”
He blanched. “What? But… but there hasn’t been a draft called since…!”
He trailed off. Since before the rift. That lawless time, the old folks never wanted to talk about, and when they did, they did so with shudders and quiet prayers. Paradoxically, the unifying factor of the rift had been a good thing. Once the rift had been brought under control, everyone was sick of war. The borders were laid, and the rift manned on all sides by the five nations that bordered it, each growing fat with levels and new people.
We were the generation born into peace, and we weren’t ready.
There was no pausing to finish skinning this time. Reid left the rabbit where it lay.
The moment was quick. Too quick. We split apart after far too short a time, but neither of us was willing to let go.
Suddenly, it was as if we both knew exactly what needed to happen without speaking. He didn’t ask how I knew. He just trusted that I did.
“I’ll tell the other hunters. Opia, Lydet, the Fisher family. You?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I was going to tell Oxana, Teskin, and the Traders.”
“Shit, you’re right! Oxana’s only twenty-four!” He cursed. “Don’t waste time trying to find Revorun and Enota. They went north the moment the patrols went up. Their dad is such a lazy ass. Uhm… okay. Anyone else you can think of?”
“Wolkor’s mother, maybe. I’ll obviously have to let Hadra know, but I don’t think they’ll take her. I’ll need to hover on the north road and make sure to let Akkiwa and the other Ranchers know if they come back.”
“Wolkor! They surely wouldn’t take him, would they?” Reid asked.
I shrugged. “Eighteen to twenty-five, my uncle said. I think Wolkor is still that young? He may be addled in the head a bit, but I think they’ll ration that if he can swing a sword, he can go.”
“How long do we have?” he asked.
“An hour and a half, at most. I think he’s going to announce it when everyone’s gathered to give their portions of the harvest.”
“Alright…” he hesitated, treading carefully with his next words. “I suppose this means you’ve already decided not to run, right? It wouldn’t be difficult. You could just go up north and spend a few days with Akkiwa and her sheep.”
I shook my head. “So could you.”
He scoffed. “I’d never do that.”
“I know. And if you won’t, why should I get to?” I asked.
“Because I’m not you, Mera! You… you’re gonna change the world, but you’ve got to be back here to do it! You should be at your lab where you invent poisons that can drop fully grown war trolls, make your liquid walls, and your steel cables that can fish boats from the sea! You’re… you’d be wasted at the Rift.”
My heart fluttered.
I was done being shy about this. Dancing around the topic like it was a live grenade.
“I think I’d be wasted anywhere that you weren’t,” I said.
His eyes widened. His ears turned an amusing shade of red.
“I… Oh!” the man said happily.
“Uh-huh,” I said, sliding a hand around his neck.
“We really shouldn’t waste time. We need to warn as many people as we can,” he replied, his hand circling my back and making no move to part, eyes locked on mine.
“Uh huh.”
“I’m… I’m gonna kiss you. Okay?” he asked.
“Uh-huh,” I said with a wry grin.
He did.