Legends of heroes
Chapter One: The Beginning
Taren stared blankly out his bedroom window, not really caring what was going on outside. Today was just like any other day, one without anything exciting going on, without any battles being fought…nothing. This was the country of Taronia, a land that had never involved itself in any wars, any battles, much like the Switzerland of ancient history. Or was it ancient? He really had no idea. He had just seen a mention of that name a long time ago and never really bothered to look at the date that the land existed in.
"Taren, I need you to clean the dishes!" he heard his mother call. His thoughts returned to all of the dishes he had been neglecting and he let out a heavy sigh. Being seventeen was not easy for him.
"Okay, I'm coming!" he called back. He stood up from the wooden chair he sat in and walked through his bare bedroom, only temporarily stopping at his cracked mirror to make sure that his brown hair was not a mess. After that, he walked out and looked at the sink and sighed again. It was packed with at least seventy different dishes, all of which he had to wash by hand and at least half of which were pans or large bowls.
He began to hand wash them as quickly as he could. He didn't know why he worked so hard. It was just natural for him. As he worked, his mind began to focus on other things besides washing. They began to go into what this would be like if there was a war. The pressure of having to wake up daily to the call of battle, the pressure of pain and horror on the battlefield, the honor and glory he would achieve by fighting for his country, the fame that he would gain by being victorious.
"Taren, are you washing them all? Or have you decided that one pot is going to be good enough?" he heard his mother ask.
He quickly shook his head clear of those thoughts and replied, "Yeah, I'm washing them all."
He quickly began to work again, watching with a strange satisfaction as all of the grime and bits of leftover food were washed away off of the plates, forks, knives, pans, etc. He had a certain joy for seeing things get done and progress being made in whatever he did. If he could see visible progress over time, he was extremely satisfied. If not, then he pushed himself to work harder. He never left a job without giving it one hundred percent of his effort.
Soon, all of the dishes were sparkling clean, dried, and put away in their proper places. He looked out and saw that the sun had hardly changed positions since he started. His mother asked, "Taren, are you finished?"
Taren smiled and said, "Yes, I am."
His mother came out to look at his progress, her long brown hair flowing down to her shoulders. Her dark green eyes scanned the kitchen, and her lips curled into a broad smile as she said, "That's a great job, Taren! I think you can go out and hang with your friends until dinner time."
Taren grinned and said, "Alright, I'll see you later!"
He waved and left through his front door. He walked out and into his hometown. It had naught but five houses and one market that had recently been built there. All of them were made out of logs, and everyone there wore simple plain clothing that usually had no differences in color. The clothes provided complete coverage, but were not helpful in cold weather. In fact, the clothing was so thin that there wasn't really any use for them. The only real use was for coverage, something that was still important, but perhaps not as much as protection against the elements.
"Taren! You're out!" he heard Erik call. Erik, his best friend, was also fascinated by the idea of battle and was equally disappointed at times that there weren't any.
Taren glanced over to see his friend running over, his messy blonde hair blowing in the wind as he ran, and his blue eyes sparkling as he rushed to meet with Taren. His clothing was even less than Taren's, revealing his chest and up to his knees on his legs. However, he could care less about that, even when he was around any of the girls.
He ran up and asked, "How's it going, Taren? I haven't seen you out here all day!"
They clapped hands and bashed fists to as a sign of their secret handshake and Taren said, "Heh, not much. I was cleaning up the entire household while my father was away."
Erik asked, "Where did he head off to, anyways? I heard that the went to the castle town to get some food and clothing with some of his saved up money, but he's been gone for so long that many don't think he's coming back."
Taren said, "My father's coming back, I know it. Still, his being gone is an awful inconvenience. My mother is almost constantly depressed because of his absence."
Erik grinned and said, "Poor Sarah, always going to keep crying over the loss of her husband, huh?"
Taren frowned and said, "You know, I really would not recommend saying that to me. My mother is no the crybaby that everyone seems to take her for. She is a strong woman, and she is the one that taught me responsibility, something that I am thankful for. I would never have anyone say such things as what you said about her."
"Oh, well then you certainly seem to be confident in her. That's always good to know," they heard a gruff voice say. Before Taren could react, someone put him into a headlock and began to hold him there.
Erik said, "Griff, let him go!"
Griff just said, "I don't think so. He needs to know who's boss here."
Taren, with a sudden burst of strength, flipped Griff around onto the ground, breaking the headlock. He then slammed his foot onto Griff's belly and pressed down so hard that it was nearly the equivalent of choking him. He said, "Griff, you still don't get it. I'm the best in town, both in fighting and helping others."
After he felt that Griff was about to pass out from lack of breath, he released his tight hold on the stomach. Griff sat up, gasping for breath. He said in between breaths, "I…hate you…Taren."
Taren said, "You always say that, Griff. I don't think that you really mean that."
Griff stood up and said, "Fine. Then I don't like you. How does that sound?"
He walked off and Taren said, "That…would actually be closer to the truth. I doubt you even know what hate means. I know that I don't know, but I know that it is way too strong to just be used like that."
Erik said, "Hey, Taren. Clara has been waiting for you. She sent me to find you and bring you over to her house. It's her father's birthday, after all."
Taren seemed surprised and said, "I wasn't aware of that."
Erik said, "Yeah, and she's pretty mad that I didn't tell you, so this is my way of making up for that. Come on! Let's go!"
Erik began rushing off towards Clara's house, obviously eager to make sure that he did not get in any further trouble with Clara. Clara, Erik's girlfriend and one of Taren's best friends, was not someone that anyone would normally want to mess with. She was a stereotypical redhead, meaning she had a short temper and when she was angry, she would stay that way for a long time. Taren liked her, though, because when she was not angry, she was a really nice person to hang around. She was often cheery, bright, and playful. She could be a little mischievous at times, but that hardly bugged him or his mother.
He ran after Erik, hoping that Clara wasn't too mad at him for not showing up. They reached the house, perhaps the grandest in the town, which still wasn't much. This one was still made out of logs, but it had decorations on it from old times. They were pictures and portraits from ancient times, some portraying John Calvin, George Washington…people like that. Taren was often amazed at the amount of history that Clara's family knew, and always turned to them for advice on old times. They were the ones that had given him the book where he had learned that this country was where the old Switzerland had been, which is why they never joined any wars.
"Where have you been this entire time, Taren?" he heard Clara demand. He turned to see her face flushed with anger and sighed inwardly.
Bad timing…he thought.
He replied, "Well, I'm sorry. You never told me when his birthday was, so…"
She turned to Erik, who seemed downcast. Erik had one flaw, and that was that he had a tendency to forget even the most important things. Apparently, Clara had told Erik to tell Taren when her birthday was, and then he forgot about it. Then, when he finally did remember, Taren was busy working at his house, so it was too late by then.
Clara asked, "Did you forget again, Erik?"
Erik said, "I'm sorry. I was busy, you know? My mom has a tendency to make me work a lot, so I was too busy with work and forgot to go tell Taren. I know how important it was, but-"
Clara yelled, "Don't tell me that, Erik! I told you at least five times trying to drill it into that thick skull of yours!"
Erik said, "I'm sorry, I just…"
Clara sighed and said, "Erik, I'm amazed by how easily you can forget sometimes."
Taren asked, "Why didn't you just come and tell me? You know I'm open twenty-four seven."
Clara turned to him and angrily said, "Taren, I was busy too! I had to prepare everything for the party!"
Taren said, "Fine, but don't get mad at me for not coming because I didn't know, and don't talk to Erik that way! Really, just cut him some slack. We all know that he tends to forget these things, but we shouldn't be rubbing it in. That's just going to make him feel worse and he might not come to parties if you keep getting mad at him every time he forgets one small thing."
Clara asked, "Taren, must you lecture me on everything?"
Taren seemed offended by that and said, "I'm not lecturing you, Clara! If you want a lecture, I can give you one!"
Clara was about to say something when Erik said, "Look, can we settle down? This isn't worth it, and your father is probably wondering what's going on. Let's just go in and have a good time."
Clara sighed and said, "I'll try, but I don't know if I can after you forgetting this."
She turned around and opened the door into her house. As she walked in with Taren and Erik behind her, Taren saw a portrait of an old war scene. It was two large boats, made out of wooden planks, with cloth sails, next to each other with explosions between them. He had learned that the explosions were caused by cannons that each one had, and they were firing cannonballs at each other in an attempt to sink the other boat. Taren didn't have enough knowledge to know why they sank down into the water, but he knew that it happened to one or the other in those kinds of battles.
He walked in and he first smelled the food. Turkey, he guessed, was perhaps the main attraction. He walked in and he let his eyes rest on the prepared table. The table itself was impressive, being made out of well carved oak and it was very well waxed. In fact, it was shiny and clean almost all of the time. It had no tablecloth on it, except for if it had been recently waxed and they were going to be eating. It was supported on five strong legs, four on the outside of the rounded top, and one directly in the middle to give it even more support. There seemed to be no normal way that it would topple.
The feast that had been prepared was, really, about as impressive. The turkey was the first thing that caught Taren's keen eyes. It was the largest thing on the table, and was roasted and seasoned to the point of extreme delicacy. Then there were other things like biscuits, fruits, a potato salad, old styled pudding, and even a large cake had been set aside for the desert.
At the end sat Clara's only parent, her father. Her mother had died due to an accident along the road to the main town, and she loved her father dearly. He was a strong man that easily looked like he had been in a war. His face was hardly wrinkled and his blue eyes shone with a light of defiance against death itself. His grey hair was short and well kept, and his face was cleanly shaven. His build was impressive. It looked like he could easily build this house that they were in by himself. The figure that he generated to strangers might have been terrifying, but his smile was calming and peaceful, nothing at all like what he could be.
"Welcome, Taren," he said, his voice being deep and low, but very calm.
Taren energetically said, "It is a pleasure to be in your company, Galvin."
Galvin was his name, named after his great grandfather in honor of an achievement made back in the older years of this country. The old Galvin had managed to keep the country out of war, even through trying politics and deceiving democrats. Nothing had stopped that man, and the country had narrowly avoided being involved in a war that many thought they shouldn't have stayed out of. This Galvin had lived up to the name, almost. He was wise and strong, leading his household and the town with authority. Every one in the town,
tory burch flip flops, especially Taren and Clara, looked up to him with pride.
They sat and ate,
gucci bags, talking about old times and the times of war. World War 1, something that no one dared ever mention nowadays, was something that was briefly mentioned, but never spoken about. Taren knew about the one thing that many had dreaded for a long time thousands of years ago, and what had been rumored to have destroyed all of the technology a long time ago. This thing was called the nuclear holocaust, and it was forbidden to even mention it in a whisper. It was a surprise that many even knew.
Suddenly, Griff ran in, his eyes filled with fear. He said, "Taren, you need to come out…now."
Taren asked, "Why?"
Griff shuddered and said, "They, the dark ones, are here to talk with you."
Taren's eyes went wide when he heard this. The dark ones were soldiers from their country, and they merely patrolled this country and didn't bother anyone. Anyone that they did bother was usually in trouble for some crime. Now, he was being called by them for some unknown reason, and he was worried.
He walked out and saw them for the first time. They were all knights, dressed in gleaming armor all with the same symbol, a red lion's head, on the breastplate. They all had their own different weapons, and in the middle of them stood their commander. He was just as tall as the rest, with a large kite shield and a long sword. The only thing different about him was that his helmet was shaped like an eagle's head.
"Well met, Taren," the commander began, "I have two pieces of information I must share with you. First, the good news. You are going to be admitted into the army of this country, should you so choose. I regret to inform you and this town that there is war brewing on the edge of this land and we are summoning all available soldiers to help protect it."
Taren was surprised, and then asked, "Why would I want to join, though?"
The commander sighed and said, "Alas, we come to the bad news. Your father, while on his way back to this town, was ambushed by enemy invaders and killed."
This sent a shudder of sudden surprise through Taren. He said, "No…you're kidding me, right? My father, he couldn't be dead…could he?"
Taren's heart began to grow heavy with realization that these men were telling the truth. His father was gone. "Why…?" he asked, still under a state of shock after what he just heard.
The commander said, "They were targeting quite a few people, to spread terror throughout this land. In reality, they have just awoken a demon that has been sleeping for a very long time in this land. We are summoning all possible forces to help us fight, and that is why you have been chosen, along with any of your other friends that can fight or at least help in the military."
Taren barely heard all of that, already making up his mind on what he was going to do. He would join the military for his father's sake and fight for vengeance. He wasn't sure he could do it, but he was willing to try. He said, "I will go and fight for this new army."
The commander seemed surprised at how quickly he made up his mind and asked, "Well, aren't you going to take some time to consider this? The military is a dangerous thing, not something to be taken lightly. You will have to learn discipline, how to follow orders without questions-"
Taren interrupted, "I'm going into the military. I've made up my mind, and I don't care how hard it is. I'm going to avenge my father by helping win this war that we've been forced into."
The commander seemed solemn as he said, "Very well, Taren. Then you have taken oath. To succeed, you must perform anything that I and other commanders tell you to do without saying anything but yes. You will be taught combat techniques and discipline, neither of which will be fun to learn. Are you ready?"
Taren glanced up at him, his eyes beginning to tear up from thinking about his father being dead. He said, "Yes, I am ready."
That was all that needed to be said. The commander sent his men back to get the horses and then one rode up and offered to pull Taren up onto the saddle. Taren thought for a moment,
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He turned around and said, "Good-bye, Clara, and Erik and Galvin. I hope to see you again sometime."
Erik said, "What do you mean good-bye? I'm coming with you!"
Taren seemed surprised and then Erik ran past him to go talk with the commander. Taren thought,
Weird, but then he did share the same want to battle as I did. I wonder if that is getting to him right now….
He walked back to his house and walked in. His mother asked, "Taren, what's going on? I saw them arrive, but why would they be here?"
Taren felt bad about having to let her know the awful news, but she had to know as well. He gravely said, "Mom, there's been a terrible misfortune. Dad is…dead."
For a moment, there was silence. Then, he heard his mother whisper, "No…that can't be true. He only left a week ago. Why would he…are we going to war? Are they taking you to war?"
Taren nodded. He watched his mother walk away, a stunned look on her face. She walked back into her room and slammed the door shut. Taren walked up and heard her sobs on the other side. He winced, and then whispered, "Good-bye, mother."
He turned around and left the house. The soldier asked, "Are you ready to go now?"
Taren nodded, knowing that he had willingly volunteered. Erik had just now gotten permission to come along with him, and as they rode back to the barracks for training, Taren wondered what war was like. He would have to experience it firsthand to know, but he from what he read, war was a terrible thing. It was always filled with grief and pain, not something that he thought he would be looking forward to as he rode towards the barracks. He was about to feel war firsthand and he couldn't help but feel…nervous. He was extremely nervous and uncertain by the time they arrived, and when he was told to sleep for now and get ready for tomorrow, that feeling went with him throughout the rest of the day and all through the night.
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