Defiant Fate, Ch. 1: Sunset

CHAPTER 1
SUNSET

A man went to his elder and asked,
"Where should I go?"
The elder smiled and answered,
"Where you should go."

The year was 937. In the monarchy of Astria under King Hiram Jules, there lay a city named Monz in the southwest, near Astria’s national border. It was an average size for a town: not huge, but not small, either. Many families of farmers existed in Monz during this time period, but this story concerns itself with one in particular. In the west outskirts of Monz, near the Sapphire River and the Opal Sea, there lived the Provlione family: a mother, a father, their daughter Nell, 16 years old, and their son Strell, 14 years old.

The family’s home was simple enough: they had a four-room house in which the four of them lived, a barn to the right of the house in which they kept their livestock, and a field in front of their house in which they planted their crops. On this day, much like most days, the father was in the field working; the mother was in the house, ambling around; Strell was outside, playing; and Nell was lying on her bed, studying for school.

"Strell!" called his mother, exiting the house. "Strell, come here, please."

"What is it, Mom? We’re busy!" came Strell’s response. He was not really busy, but that didn’t stop him from considering it as such. In actuality, he was drawing in the dirt with his two childhood friends: Kaye, a tomboyish girl with a nose for adventure, and the shy but friendly Jake.

"Come on, Strell, you’re not doing a thing," said his mother with a smile.

"Okay, okay," replied Strell. He ran up to his mother with a mix of the typical overabundance of energy one has during childhood and an eagerness to get back to his friends so they could get back to being busy. "What is it?"

"Strell, we’re nearing the end of the fall season, and we’re going to need a fairly substantial stockpile of chopped wood for winter. Could you take your friends and perhaps go into the forest and get our pile started?" Strell’s mother handed him an axe. She always had a certain way of asking questions such that she came across as polite as can be, yet it was not difficult to divine that one should not dare give her the response of "no".

"Okay, Mom."

Strell’s mother smiled as he trotted away, then suddenly remembered one piece of information that she had neglected to convey.

"Oh, Strell, hold on one moment."

"What is it, Mom?"

Strell’s mother’s face became ever so slightly sterner and less friendly.

"Watch out for the Storm while you’re out there."

"I know, I know, Mom." Strell rolled his eyes in a miffed manner and walked off to get his friends to take a short trip to the nearby Ruby Forest.

The Storm – the group mentioned by Strell’s mother – was a large band of creatures called werts. Werts were quick, reclusive, and sentient creatures who were very rarely seen by humans. At least, this was what common knowledge stated. Theories varied regarding their elusiveness, ranging from shyness to a hatred of humans. In reality, no one really knew much of anything about them.

The Storm was an exception to this elusiveness, however. According to Astrian lore, the Storm was a conniving group of werts whose only method of finding sustenance in life was to steal everything they could from unwary passers-by. Due to their great speed, and due to the reported fact that the Storm clothe themselves nearly head-to-toe, no one who had been raided by the Storm in the past ever really saw enough of them to create any sort of description of them. The only thing that most people knew was that they were out there.

"Strell, why does your mom warn you about that 'Storm' group every single time you go out?" asked Kaye, walking alongside Strell and Jake. "Have we ever even seen a wert? I’m still not convinced that they even exist."

"I don’t know. She swears that people get robbed by them all the time." Strell’s voice assumed a mockingly ominous tone. "Legend has it that they have terrible claws and attack you when you’re unawares, and tear you limb from limb."

"T- Terrible claws?" trembled Jake, swallowing in an audible manner.

"Oh, come off it, Jake," replied Kaye, with a hint of scorn in her voice. Kaye shook her head and shrugged. "I still maintain that they’re a silly hoax dreamed up by people who were too chicken to admit that they had been robbed in broad daylight."

"Do you want to find out?" said Strell with a smile.

"Well... no," replied Kaye.

They walked in silence the rest of the way, having nothing else to talk about. Jake didn’t seem to mind, still slightly afraid of Strell’s description of the Storm and not overly eager to hear anything more on the subject. Jake tended to be like that: always a little on the paranoid side. One wouldn’t want to feed him too much worrisome information, because he would immediately absorb it like a sponge. Of course, that fact provided the unfortunate side effect of making him very easy to tease, something that Strell and Kaye nastily employed every now and then.

To the left of the group’s feet, the Sapphire River gurgled merrily towards the ocean. The river was very aptly named on sunny days like this one; as the sun and the sky smiled down on the river, it sparkled happily and put on a show for any travelers who were willing to spare the time to stop and notice. Strell, Kaye, and Jake, sadly, were not in this group, as they had traveled down this path a few too many times to be able to still admire the view. The Sapphire River, however, kept on merrily shining, totally oblivious to the fact that it was being ignored.

As the group neared the Ruby Forest, it would have immediately become apparent to an observer who hadn’t been to this forest yet regarding why it has its name. In the fall season, as the leaves display the colors underneath their emerald façade, the Ruby Forest’s cascades of maple trees shine forth as brilliant a red as any jewel could hope to hold.

"Now, where’s a good tree?" asked Strell, looking around the forest, patting the side of the axe against his thigh.

"What makes a good tree?" asked Kaye.

"Oh, you know the type: big enough to provide ample firewood, but not big enough to crush Jake when it falls on him."

"Strell!" whined Jake.

"I’m kidding! I’m kidding!" laughed Strell. "Honestly, Jake, lighten up a little." The maple leaves rustled and crunched under the six feet as they made their way through the forest of red, glancing left and right periodically in search for a perfect tree.

"How about that one?" asked Kaye, pointing to a tree of medium height.

"No, that one is still too tall," replied Strell. "We’d have to leave at least ninety percent of it behind and it’d be difficult to cut down, anyway."
"Er... that one?" asked Jake, pointing to a tiny baby tree. Strell rolled his eyes.

"Our job is to find firewood, Jake, not to minimize the chance of having you get killed. That dinky little tree could hardly even serve for kindling."

"Oh, all right..."

The sunlight provided a thin ghostly veil as it softly fluttered through the ruby canopy in its unending journey towards the earth beneath the trio's feet. It stopped only to politely let the three through its path before resuming on its way.

"Hey, look at that one!" said Kaye, pointing at a relatively short, but nevertheless sturdy, tree.

"Perfect!" replied Strell, nodding in approval that this tree would be suitable for their purposes. "Well, let's get started." Strell tapped the sharp end of the axe against the side of the tree twice, then pulled it back and swung it against the trunk of the tree.

Thunk.

The axe made a satisfying sound as it chipped away part of the bark and left a small indentation that would serve as the starting point of the path through the tree.

Thunk.

The indentation got slightly larger as bits of the tree were ejected from the hole, landing at Strell's feet.

Thunk.

"You know, I hadn't noticed until now what a beautiful day it is," said Kaye.

Thunk.

"I love the wistful sunlight during fall in the forest."

Thunk.

Strell smiled.

Thunk.

"I'm kind of a bit busy at the moment-"

Thunk.

"-to take note of that, Kaye."

Thunk.

By this time the axe was sinking deep into the silent tree, as chips of wood piled up near Strell's feet. The bushes rustled as a slight breeze carried itself through the woods.

Thunk.

Strell paused for a moment to scratch his cheek.
"Tiring work, Strell?" asked Kaye mockingly.

"Very funny, Kaye," responded Strell. "Perhaps you shouldn't say that to the guy with the axe." Strell flashed a menacing expression.

"Har har, Strell." Kaye rolled her eyes.

Jake snickered.

"Okay, back to work," said Strell. He pulled the axe back and let it swing like before.

Thunk.

The bushes rustled louder, as if to echo the sound of the axe.

"The wind is sure picking up, isn't it?" said Jake.

Thunk.

The bushes rustled louder still. Strell paused and looked around, then went back to work.

Thunk.

The bushes rustled even louder. Strell slowly turned around and looked at the bush.

"Uh, guys..." said Strell, as a faint growling sound could be heard from the bush, "I don't think that's the wind."

From beneath the bush, the glint of an eye could be seen. It was not human.

"Great," sighed Strell.

"Is it-" started Jake.

"No, it isn't," said Strell, cutting Jake off, "but I don't think it's here to ask for directions." Strell paused. "Run!"

The three darted off in three different directions as a young wolf, which was evidently very hungry, leaped out from behind the bush in pursuit of Strell. Strell didn't look back, but knew that the wolf was there.

"Not good, not good," muttered Strell under his breath, running at top speed. His top speed was not what he would have liked it to be. The uneven ground and piles of leaves coupled with trees in the way made evasive maneuvers difficult, to say the least. Behind him he could hear the wolf slowly gaining on him. It would be the logical conclusion to make at this point that further running is a futile effort, but one tends not to be in the most logical state of mind in situations like this, and Strell kept at it.

"Go home!" said Strell, in a vain attempt to make the wolf go away. No such luck was to be had: the wolf was still directly behind him. Strell leaped over a stream, but suddenly came to a screeching halt as his foot made the most unlucky decision of getting snagged in an unearthed root, bringing Strell down to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the axe fly out of his hand and land in a patch of tall grass under a tree. Strell quickly whirled around, just in time to put his hands up and catch the wolf's muzzle in his hand in order to prevent the wolf from making his jugular vein go where it was not meant to go.

"Shoot," mumbled Strell as he put up both hands against the wolf in an attempt to restrain it. The wolf thrashed its head viciously side to side, eventually freeing its mouth and again attacking. Strell just barely caught it again; its wet fangs were inches away from Strell's neck. Strell was beginning to wonder if this was going to be the end when a familiar voice was heard in the distance.

"Strell!" It was Kaye, though Strell could not tell where she was. The wolf was distracted for an instant, but it was long enough for Strell to give it a whack on the side of its head with his hand hard enough to stun the wolf for long enough that Strell could scramble for his feet. He ran almost reflexively towards the axe, but Strell was not quick enough – the wolf steadied itself and jumped at Strell again. Again Strell was pushed to the ground, this time with the wolf fully on top of him, unceasingly vying for Strell's neck. In desperation Strell covered his neck with his arms, pushing against the wolf, trying to get the wolf off of him. Nearly within reach was the axe, its metal blade shining in the sunlight above, but Strell's hands were a little too occupied.

"Kaye... where are you? A little help would be nice!" Strell mumbled almost silently, having little breath to utter the sentences with, given that the wolf was standing on his chest. Strell looked at the wolf's eyes. There was a vicious, feral fervor to them as their gaze reached Strell's soul. Strell had a feeling that negotiation would not likely be productive. The wolf looked like it was in great need of a substantial meal; Strell supposed that it was simply a lack of luck on his part that made him happen by at exactly the time at which he shouldn't have.

Keeping his left hand to bat at the wolf and keep its fangs at bay, Strell reached out for the axe, but it was in vain; the axe was inches out of reach. The wolf, growing tired of attempting to get around Strell's hand, savagely sunk its teeth into the back of Strell's hand. Strell screamed in pain and yanked his hand away from the wolf, bringing his other between the wolf and his neck just in time. His hand was already turning red as blood oozed out of the teeth marks. In an act of desperation, he clenched his bleeding hand into a fist and thrust it against the wolf's head. The attack was not much, but it was enough to knock the wolf off of Strell. Strell rolled instinctively towards the axe and picked it up, swiping it blindly at the wolf, who, by this time, had steadied himself and was lunging at Strell again. Strell heard a whack and a whine from the wolf – the axe had connected with the wolf's head, but Strell had unfortunately gripped the axe backwards and had only succeeded in clubbing the wolf with the back of the axe.

Strell got to his feet and faced the wolf, which had gotten up by this time. Strell disappointingly saw that he had only fazed the wolf; nothing appeared to be broken in its skull. The wolf was more apprehensive now that Strell had a weapon at his disposal, and did not immediately attack. It let out a fearful growl, indicating to Strell that it was not entirely happy with the headache that Strell had given it. Strell was too scared to attack. He thought that it was maybe the case that the wolf had the same feeling. At least, he hoped that this was the case.

The wolf broke the standoff by jumping at Strell. Strell leaped out of the way, and the wolf landed where Strell was standing a moment earlier. Strell stared at the wolf, and the wolf followed suit. With the wind having died down between the trees, the forest was unnervingly silent. Suddenly, the familiar voice cut through the air again.

"Strell! Strell, where are you?" It was closer this time, but Strell was still unsure where she was. He decided to respond, deciding that there could be strength in numbers.

"Kaye, over here!" called out Strell. Following a rustling in the bushes to Strell's left, Kaye emerged from behind the brush.

"Strell! Are you okay?" asked Kaye. Puzzled at Kaye's lack of fear, Strell turned back to the wolf. It was gone.

"Huh...?" Strell paused, and then shook his head out. "Er, I'm fine."

"Fine? Fat chance, Strell; look at you!" said Kaye, pointing at Strell's bleeding hand.

"Oh, uh, right, I forgot about that," said Strell, still preoccupied with looking for the wolf in the bushes.

"Where's the wolf, anyway?" asked Kaye.

"I don't know," answered Strell.

"You don't know?"

"He must have run off or something when you arrived. Give me a break, Kaye; I just got mauled by a wolf." Strell scratched his head. "Odd that such a young wolf would be out all alone. I wonder where the rest of his pack is..."

"Well, we still haven't got our firewood. Come on, we should get back before it gets dark – or, I suppose, before that wolf returns. I think I can remember the path we used to get here."

"'We'? Say, where is Jake, anyway?"

"He's probably still behind those bushes over there. There's no way he would have faced that wolf face-to-face. Jake! Come on out, Jake; the wolf's gone."

"Is it?" came a small voice from behind the greenery. Kaye rolled her eyes.

"Yes, it is."

"Okay..." The bushes rustled for a moment before parting to reveal Jake. He stumbled for a moment as his foot got caught in a low branch, but then he steadied himself and joined the group.

"Honestly, Jake," said Kaye, "you really need to get a backbone." Jake sighed.

"I know..."

"I believe that the path back to the tree we were at earlier is this way," said Kaye, gesturing in the direction of the bush that Jake had been behind. "I suppose we'll know that we're on the right track if we pass a tree with a large chunk taken out of its base."

The three walked off in the direction that Jake had come from. Above them, beyond the canopy, a flock of geese could be seen flying southwards.

"The animals in the forest are getting restless," said Strell. "I suppose that it's not surprising, given that it's getting close to winter."

"I suppose it's to be expected," Kaye said with a laugh. "Heck, if I was really hungry, I'd try to eat Strell too!"

"Not funny, Kaye."

"Oh, fine."

The three continued walking for a few minutes without finding much to see. The ghostly veil of sunlight was beginning to wane; the three knew that it would not be long before the sun goes down and the owl's time arrives. Given their encounter in broad daylight, none of them felt too inclined to stay and see what happens. Strell hoped that they could find the tree before much longer.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" asked Strell.

"Of course I am!" replied Kaye. "At least... I think I am."

"You'd better be."

"You do still have your axe with you, don't you?"

"I probably wouldn't be here talking with you if I didn't."

"Okay, good," said Kaye. "Hey, look!" Kaye pointed at a tree. It had a sizeable mound of slivers beneath one side of it and a slice taken out of its trunk. "That's the one, isn't it?"

"So it is." Strell smiled. "I guess you are good for something after all." Kaye smacked Strell in the back of the head. "Ow!"

"You're hilarious, Strell," said Kaye in a deadpan voice with a smirk.

"We should get back to work. It'll be evening soon." Strell got in position, brought the axe back, and let it swing.

Thunk.

"Shouldn't be much longer," remarked Strell.

Thunk.

"We just about had it last time."

Thunk.

"Glad to hear it; it's getting boring out here," said Kaye.

Thunk.

"Oh, have a little patience, Your Highness."

Thunk.

"Don't make me smack you again, Strell."

Thunk.

The tree wobbled back and forth for a while before slowly making its way towards the ground.

"Timber!" yelled Strell. The tree made a light thump that kicked up assorted dust and dirt as it made contact with the ground. Frightened birds could be heard as they fluttered from neighboring trees, away from the noise.

"Okay, let's get this thing hacked up," said Strell, "and get back home. I think we've had enough of today." He raised his axe and started cutting a chunk out of the fallen tree.

"Are you kidding?" asked Kaye. "Today's been so exciting!"

Strell gave her a look that oozed incredulity.

"You are not the one who just about got his jugular vein ripped out by a hungry wolf!"

"So?"

"Never mind," sighed Strell, rolling his eyes. "I'll just stick to this log."

"What do you mean by that?" Strell smiled.

"I'm still the one with the axe, Kaye."

"That line is still not funny, Strell."

"Spoilsport."

"Takes one to know one."

Strell paused.

"Kaye, that doesn't even make any sense."

"Oh yeah? Well-"

"Uh, guys...?" interjected Jake. "It's almost evening."

"Er, right." Strell flashed Kaye a look and went back to chopping up the log. "Thanks, Jake."

"No problem."

"Then again, I suppose you'd like to get home, wouldn't you?" Strell smiled.

"Don't you?" asked Jake.

Strell paused to think.

"Okay, you win this round." Strell resumed chopping up the tree. The blue of the sky was slowly beginning to give room for vibrant reds and oranges on the horizon as the sun prepared to begin its daily slow farewell to the world until the morning. Put against the rich crimsons of the forest, the colors formed into a soft lullaby for the world as it prepared to drift into the slumber of nighttime.

Far above the group of three, a bird fluttered among the leaves to an unknown destination, and then the forest fell silent for a moment. One could imagine that it was perhaps a nightingale on its way to the horizon, preparing to sing his daily duet with the moon to celebrate its arrival. The wistful hoo, hoo, hoo of an owl in the distance broke the silence for few pensive moments before the forest went back to sleep.

"That should do it," said Strell, resting the axe at his side and looking at the pile of firewood that he had molded out of the tree. "Time to get this stuff home." Strell gathered up a pile in his arms and then made room for the other two.

"'Bout time, Strell," said Kaye with a smile. She took an armful of firewood and made way for Jake.

"Phew, it's finally time to get home," said Jake, hoisting up his own bundle of firewood.

"Okay, homeward bound it is," said Strell, pointing down the path towards Strell's house. The three of them turned down the path and began their trek back to the place where their arduous day began.

"So, Strell, we didn't see the Storm. You know, I am shocked," said Kaye in deadpan sarcasm.

Strell smiled.

"You like sticking it to my mom whenever she warns us about the Storm and we don't see them during our outing, don't you?"

"I'm telling you guys, the Storm does not exist," said Kaye, putting emphasis on the last three words, "and the proof of that starts right here by documenting all the times we don't see them."

Strell thought about that for a second.

"How does our not seeing them prove that they don't exist?"

"Do you have a better method in mind of trying to prove that thought?"

"Not particularly."

"Well, there you go!"

"It's still not entirely logically sound."

"Oh, be quiet, Strell."

Strell smiled.

"And that's definitely not a logical retort."

"That's it!" Kaye edged up to Strell and elbowed him in the back of the head. Strell nearly dropped his firewood, but not quite.

"Ow!"

"Don't 'ow' me, Strell; you asked for that," said Kaye with a smile.

"Okay, fine, so I did."

The group walked for a moment without saying anything.

"Young love?" asked Jake with a sheepish grin.

"Don't make us both smack you," said Kaye.

"The answer is no," said Strell.

"Hey, I was just saying..." said Jake with a smile.

Though the sun had not yet fully retreated into the depths of the horizon, the first stars of the night sky had begun to emerge by the time Strell's home came into view as the Ruby Forest receded into the distance, slowly shrinking as Strell's home grew in size. As the children approached, they could see Strell's mother sweeping off the front porch with a broom as his father sat, watching nothing in particular, gazing away from the house. His eyes fixed on his son as they walked up to the house. Getting up from his porch chair, he called out to the group.

"Well, now, a regular band of lumberjacks, you are!"

"Fresh from the forest, Dad."

"Excellent work, my boy!"

Kaye's face took on an indignant tone.

"Ahem! We chipped in too!"

Strell's father let out a hearty laugh.

"Of course, of course, I can't forget about you two. Thank you to you all; this batch should do us very nicely for now."

"You're welcome, sir," said Jake, politely.

"Will you two be staying for dinner? We've got a large bowl of mushroom soup cooking in the house."

Strell's mouth began to water.

"Ooo, my favorite!"

"I have no other plans," said Kaye, "and that does sound pretty good. How about you, Jake?"

"I'd be happy to stay for dinner, sir."

"Then it's settled! Let's go inside and get you lads some food in your bellies."

"Great!" said Strell. He and the others started towards the house, but Strell's mother stopped him for a moment.

"Strell, wait a minute."

"What is it, Mom?"

"Strell, let me see your hand – your left." Strell swallowed and extended his left hand, still red with the blood from the wolf's bite, its wounds still not closed. "Strell, look at you!" Fear crept into his mother's eyes. "You didn't meet..."

"No, Mom."

"Don't lie to me, Strell."

"I'm not lying, Mom. It was a young wolf. Evidently, he thought I looked like food. We took care of it. I'm all right, Mom, really."

"You swear it wasn't..."

"No, Mom, it wasn't. Honest."

Strell's mother breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's get you inside and bandage up that hand of yours, Strell. It's not good to leave it open like that."

"Aw, Mom..."

"No complaints, Strell; you know this is for your own good."

"Okay, okay."

"And you can have a double helping of mushroom soup when we're done."

"Way to make this deal unrefusable."

Strell smiled. He and his mother went inside the house and his mother deftly wiped off the blood on his hand and then wrapped the wounds in some soft cloth from a drawer.

"There, all finished."

"That was fast."

"I'm your mother, Strell; I have experience with this sort of thing." Strell's mother smiled. "Now, let's go get you some dinner."

"All right!"

The two of them emerged into the dining room. Seated around the table, in clockwise order, were Strell's father, Jake, Kaye, and Nell, Strell's sister. To the left of Nell was an empty seat for Strell, and to the left of Strell's father was an empty seat for Strell's mother. On the table was a giant bowl filled with mushroom soup. Above the table hung a lantern, giving soft illumination to the table. The dining room did not contain much beyond this, save a cupboard in which all of the bowls, plates, and utensils were stored until needed. Strell and his mother walked to the table and sat in their places.

"Any food left for us, dear?" asked Strell's mother of his father with a smile.

"You know we always wait for you, honey."

"And it's about time!" said Kaye. "I'm starving!"

"Now, now, Kaye," said Strell's mother, "patience is a virtue."

"Eating food is a virtue too."

"C'mon, Mom," said Nell with a smile, "let's get on with the grub."

"It looks like everyone is here now," said Strell's father. "All right, dig in."

The giant bowl went around the table, and each diner took their fair share. Once it had reached everyone, all people present immediately began eating. Strell didn't take long to finish his bowl of soup, and neither did anyone else, for that matter. It was not before long that all of the bowls were empty and the diners around the table were satisfied.

"Ahh, that was fantastic. Thank you!" said Kaye.

"Always a pleasure to have you, Kaye," said Strell's mother.

"Yes, thank you," said Jake.

"Well, we had better get going," said Kaye. "Thanks for having us over!"

"You're welcome here anytime," said Strell's father.

"Let's go, Jake." said Kaye, getting up from the table.

"Right. See you later, Strell!" said Jake, following suit.

"Bye, Strell!" yelled Kaye from the front door as the two trotted off to their respective homes.

Strell's family watched them as they disappeared out the door. Turning back to the group, Nell broke the silence.

"Thanks for the wonderful dinner, Mom," said Nell. "Oh! I'd better get back to studying. I have a test this Friday, and I want to be ready."

"All right, dear," said Strell's mother, smiling. "You're excused."

"Thanks, Mom." Nell got up, kissed her mother on the forehead, and walked off to her room."

"Studying, studying, always studying, that sister of mine," said Strell, in a lightly mocking tone.

"Now, Strell, Nell has great things ahead of her because of it," said Strell's mother. "If you work hard, you'll be great one day, too."

"Great? But I like to have fun."

"Life isn't all fun and games, Strell. Sooner or later you have to put food on the table. Fun doesn't accomplish that."

"I know, I know."

"I have faith in you, Strell."

"I know. Mom, you're embarrassing me."

"Listen to your mother, Strell," said Strell's father with a smile. "She is wise beyond her years."

"Oh, you kidder," said Strell's mother.

"I think I'm going to turn in early today," said Strell. "I'm worn out, and I think I ate a bit too much, too. I think I need to go rest."

"All right, Strell. You're excused from the table."

"Thanks, Mom."

Strell smiled, got up, and walked to his room. It was not nearly as organized as Nell's room was. It had an assortment of clothing piled on the ground, various textbooks from school lying around on his desk and shelves – some open, others not – papers with assignment answers written on them piled on his desk, his unmade bed in the corner, a candle lamp on a corner of the desk with pencils and pens scattered beneath it, and a stick he brought in from the Ruby Forest a while ago propped against the desk. Strell had a tendency to live with minimal upkeep required; most of his enjoyment came from doing things with his friends.

Now, burnt out from the day, and with the stars beginning the second verse of their serenade for the night, Strell let out a large yawn, climbed into bed, and, before long, was fast asleep. Slowly but unceasingly, his mind slipped from its corporeal entrapment and drifted listlessly into the void of slumber.

Strell slept in longer than usual the following day, partly because he was tired out after the ordeal he had suffered through the previous day, but mostly because today was a day on which he didn't have any school. This did not mean, however, that he would have no tasks whatsoever throughout the day. Around noon, while he was sitting on the front porch, drawing in the dirt with a stick, his mother gave him his task for the day.

"Strell?" she said, to get his attention.

"Hm?"

Strell turned to look at his mother. She was holding two buckets, each full with fruits and vegetables. She put them down at her feet.

"That's the first batch from our crops. Can you take that into town and give that to the owner of the market, then bring back his payment to me?"

"Sure thing," said Strell, leaning over to pick up the buckets. Strell let out a small grunt as he hoisted up a bucket per hand, finding the contents heavier than his eyes had evaluated them to be. "Be back... whenever I return," remarked Strell with a smile, after realizing that he was unable to come up with a good estimate of how much time it would take him to complete the errand.

Strell turned around slowly, stepped off the front porch, and began his small trek towards Monz. Before he could even get a few feet down the path, his mother found more to say.

"Make sure you count the money when he gives it to you, Strell," called Strell's mother after him, always the worrying type.

"I know, Mom; you tell me every time."

"I'm just making sure, Strell."

Strell turned around.

"I won't let you down, Mom. Really," said Strell with a smile. Strell then turned away from his mother and continued down the path towards town. Strell squinted slightly and looked down as the sun's rays reached his eyes and caused their usual discomfort.

The overall shape of central Monz – the section that doesn't include places like the Provlione house – was roughly rectangular. Around the outside are the residential areas of the city, and as one moved further towards the center, the city becomes more commercial in nature. At the very center of the city was a grand-looking mansion, in which Baron Vincent Strauser lived.

Vincent was an average sized man – not fat, but not slender, and not tall, but not short – whose main identifiable characteristics were his finely preened mustache, coupled with his modest beard, and the very extravagant clothing he was known for wearing. The townsfolk knew him well; Vincent was the appointed representative of King Jules for the city of Monz, and was responsible for overseeing the populace and for organizing the law enforcement in the city. No one would admit it in the city for obvious reasons, but there were few who actually liked Vincent. Ever since King Jules chose him to oversee the city of Monz, the air of perceived superiority never left Vincent's head. He was not a tyrant towards the people, but he was not a kindly, wise leader by any means, either. No one knew whether or not Vincent had actually picked up on this undercurrent of discontent or if he was too busy assuring himself of his great worth to humanity. However, Vincent had somewhat of an inferiority complex in spite of his arrogance – or, some may theorize that it had even led to his arrogance as a compensatory measure. Regardless of its origin, some felt that he may very well be secretly worried about such an idea of discontent as a result.

Vincent was chosen for that position mainly for his law enforcement skills, as there had been trouble in Monz before he arrived with thieves and robbers in the streets. Vincent could be surprisingly brutal in his law enforcement techniques, given that he usually was not the violent sort – he was very arrogant, but not violent. He also employed the method of rewards for the capture of criminals, with a greater reward offered the closer the informant's relationship was to the criminal. Strangers received a fair bit of money, but parents and spouses that turned criminals in received a hefty sum of money. Many people strongly disapproved of this particular tactic, mainly because they argued that it turned people against each other and encouraged money-hungry people to go on a witch-hunt among those to whom they were close in an attempt to find some way of implicating a person in a crime and then claiming the reward. While some citizens became frightened at Vincent's efforts against criminals, the efforts ultimately proved successful, as Monz was, on the whole, much safer than it used to be before Vincent's arrival. The unfortunate part was that Vincent was not terribly good at many other aspects of running a city: he had little to no knowledge of economics or any other such thing, so he was largely ineffectual after the crime was stamped out. He had since then delegated most of his duties to subordinates.

As he came into town, Strell said hello to all of the usual people he passed by whenever he came into town on an errand for his mother. He recognized all of their faces, but never bothered to stop and learn their names. He had never been one for very much idle chatter with strangers. Additionally, he didn't want to keep his mother waiting. He headed past the residential section of Monz towards the commercial section, in which the market resided at which he always sold his family's crops. It was a medium-sized grocery at which all kinds of food were sold. The market almost solely sold things grown by farmers from Monz, so it relied on families like the Provliones to stay in business. Its owner was a jovial man by the name of James Flora. James was quite overweight and had a rather bushy mustache and an unkempt look about him, but everyone loved doing business with him because he was such a friendly man. Today he was outside at his market counter, lazing around while waiting for someone to arrive. As Strell walked up to him, he gave his usual greeting in the big, booming voice that the townsfolk who knew him had come to love.

"Well, well, it's my favorite Strell! How have you been, my boy?"

"We've been alright," said Strell, smiling. "We've got the first batch from our crops ready for you, Mr. Flora." Strell placed the two buckets on the counter.

"Excellent, excellent! Wait here while I go and weigh what your dear mother has brought me." James smiled, picked up the buckets off the counter, and trotted off in his usual manner into the indoors section of his market, where he kept the scales he used to weigh everything brought to him by the farmers of Monz. While waiting, Strell glanced around town. Being a holiday, there were less people out and about than normal on this day. A small bird perched on a house nearby. Having nothing else to do, Strell watched it for a few moments until the bird decided it had had enough of that location and flew off elsewhere. Strell glanced back to the street before he realized that the man walking nearby was none other than Baron Strauser, presumably doing a round through town, checking up on the town's status. Strell's reaction came almost involuntarily.

"Good afternoon, sir," said Strell after he caught the baron's eye. The baron turned towards him.

"Hello..." Vincent paused for a second, forgetting Strell's name.

"Strell, sir."

"Strell, yes, I apologize. Good afternoon to you. Have some business with Mr. Flora, do you?"

"Yes, our family has begun harvesting our crops, sir. I'm delivering the first batch."

"Ah, your crops, yes... good, good, you're a good boy."

"Thank you, sir."

"I must be on my way now. Give your parents my regards."

"I will, sir."

"Good day to you," said Vincent, as he flashed a smile and continued on his way down the street. Strell couldn't tell how forced the smile was, but he nonetheless felt slightly privileged, having gotten the opportunity to talk to nobility. James noticed Vincent walking away as he emerged from the back room of his market.

"Ah, there goes the old baron, eh?"

"Yeah."

"I've done some business with him before. He's an alright guy, from what I've seen. Can be a bit weird, though."

"No comment," said Strell, which induced a laugh from James.

"Oh, here's the part your mother likely cares about," said James as he placed a bag of money onto the counter. "Say hi to her for me."

"I will, Mr. Flora," replied Strell, waving goodbye to James as the two parted ways. James returned to lazing around at his counter, and Strell started down the path back to his house. By now it was around 2 or 3 in the afternoon, and the sun was beginning its daily descent towards the horizon, but it was still high enough in the sky to provide ample light and warmth for Strell on his trek home.

A short walk later, Strell arrived outside his house. He didn't see either of his parents outside, so he figured that they must be inside the house. He opened the front door and entered.

"I'm back!" he called out to anyone within earshot. From the kitchen came his mother's familiar voice.

"I'm in the kitchen, honey."

Strell walked into the kitchen and set down the bag of money that James had given him.

"There's the money from Mr. Flora, Mom."

"Thanks, Strell. Did you remember to count it?"

Strell paused. He realized that he hadn't.

"Er, well..." His mother looked slightly annoyed.

"You didn't, did you?"

"Well... Mr. Flora is a good man; he wouldn't cheat us out of money."

Strell's mother gave him a look, but then loosened up.

"Oh well, don't worry about it, Strell."

"Are we having dinner early?" asked Strell, gesturing towards the food his mother was making.

"Yes, it's a lovely fall day, so I thought I'd make dinner early, and then we'd have a picnic outside when your father gets home."

"Where is he, anyway?"

"Kaye's father and Jake's father were going fishing down by the river and they stopped by to ask if your father wanted to come. He wasn't doing much at the time, so he said that he'd be happy to. They left shortly after you did, so I imagine that they should be home before long. You know them – they usually do that stuff just to have a good time, not because they actually expect to catch anything."

"I look forward to dinner." Strell smiled and left the kitchen. He opened the front door, sat back down on the front porch, and picked up a stick, intent on picking up from where he left off earlier that day. He didn't, however, finish even four lines in his newest masterpiece before he saw the three fathers walking by the house, merrily chatting as they walked. Strell's father waved goodbye to the other two and walked towards the house, noticing Strell as he approached.

"Hello there, son!"

"Hi, Dad. Did you have a good fishing trip?"

"Yes, yes, very enjoyable. Those two always make excellent company."

"Any great catches?"

Strell's father smiled.

"Nothing notable. Where's your mother?"

"In the kitchen, making dinner. Mom said that she thought it might be nice to have a picnic outside today."

"That sounds like a great idea to me! I'll go inside and see how she's doing." Strell's father walked past Strell into the house. Strell picked his stick back up and resumed his previous work of art. It wasn't long before Strell's father emerged from the house with Strell's mother, the former carrying a blanket and the latter carrying a large bowl with food in it in one hand and some smaller bowls with cutlery resting in them in the other. Nell followed shortly behind them. As Strell's father walked past Strell, he motioned for Strell to come with them.

"Come on, Strell; it's such a nice day with the sun high in the sky that your mother and I thought that we should have our picnic under a nice tree to get some shade."

Strell got up, dropped his stick, and followed his parents. They finally settled on a location directly beneath an oak tree in their front yard. Strell's father set down the blanket and Strell's mother set down the contents of her hands in the center of the blanket. Strell's mother announced the menu for tonight.

"I thought we'd have potato salad today as a change from all of the soup we've been having lately. Any objections?"

Strell shook his head.

"Certainly, none from me!"

Nell acted likewise.

"Potato salad is fine by me."

Strell's father followed suit.

"It looks wonderful, dear."

"Well, take your servings," said Strell's mother, gesturing towards the large bowl filled with potato salad. Strell went first, taking a bowl and a spoon and removing a sizable chunk of the large bowl's contents into his bowl. Strell's father went second, doing the same. Nell went third, taking another quarter of the large bowl's contents. Strell's mother went last, emptying what remained into her bowl.

"Oh, I forgot to mention this earlier, Mom," said Strell. "Mr. Flora said to say hi to you for me."

Strell's mother smiled.

"Mr. Flora is such a nice man. Dear, don't you think we should invite him over for dinner one of these days? He's always been so good to us."

"Sounds good to me," said Strell's father. "You should get Strell to ask him one of these times he goes into town."

"Yes, I think I will."

Strell was largely paying more attention to dinner than he was to the conversation between his parents, although he was conscious of what they were saying. The remainder of dinner passed fairly uneventfully, with Strell's parents' attention turning to what Strell had already been doing. Strell's mother resolved during eating that, tomorrow, she would get Strell to invite James for dinner.

The remainder of the day passed fairly uneventfully, with Nell returning to her room to continue studying for the upcoming test and with Strell, bored of drawing in the dirt, surprising both of his parents by actually looking at some material for his schoolwork as well. Strell rationalized this startling decision by declaring that it was too late to do something outside and that he was too lazy to invent something for himself to do indoors. Night soon came, and the house grew silent as its inhabitants fell into soft slumber. In the deepest regions of Strell's mind, a dream began to take shape.

Those you love,
Those you cherish,
Those you know
May soon perish.

Into fires of greed,
And seas of despair,
That which was
Shall not be there.

What was shown as known,
And held as fact,
Shall not for long
Be held intact.

Hear the cries,
The moans, the yells
Of the hungry and cold,
And their mournful knell.

When the onion's outer skin
Is given as the whole
Remember well the rest,
For the rest is in control.