Chapter 3: Chapter 2. The morality of following your dreams.

After I told my parents the whole story of my awakening, an awkward silence ensued. Both my mother and father were stumped, finding it almost unbelievable. Yet there was no lie to be found in my words, and they knew that. My father ended up being the one to break the silence.

"I knew my brother giving you that stone was bad luck. If you didn't have it during your awakening, you probably would have received a knight class. You would've been able to go to the capital and eventually become a royal guard. If only Robart didn't put that into your little head at the time."

My father shook his head sadly, with a look of disappointment on his face that I had never seen before. My father was always one to look to the future. Optimistic and laid back, he would always have advice for me when I needed it. Now, even he didn't know what to do. In hindsight, I think he was more disappointed in himself and my uncle, rather than me.

My mother didn't look much better. Usually she was the one to steer the family and make the decisions. Now she looked meek and lost. It only lasted a few moments, however. She pulled herself together and got a determined look on her face.

"Well, there's nothing for it. From tomorrow onwards, you'll be helping out around the bakery. Problem solved."

Happy to have arrived at a solution, my mother moved over to fill my bowl with meat stew. I stayed quiet for a moment, and gathered my confidence.

"Mom, I don't want that."

"W-what? Y-you don't unde-"

"I don't want this, mom. I've been restless for as long as I can remember, I always felt unsatisfied with our quiet lives. I need to do something, anything."

 

"...Do you even realise how much your father and I have done for you? Do you understand how much work we put in every day to give you a good life?! Do you remember how many struggles we had to go through to get the royal grant to open the bakery?! How much we sacrificed so that you could follow your dreams? Why can't you be happy with this? With what we've given you?"

"...I can only repay you by becoming happy, mom. I can only do that by following my dreams. I'm sorry mom."

 

"Enough!! You're under house arrest! You better head to your room, and stay there if you know what's good for you!"

 

Tired of the fight, I acquiesced. Filled with mixed feelings, guilt, rebelliousness, dissatisfaction, I headed to my room and shut myself inside. This room was far larger than my alcove in the village had been. There was enough space to comfortably move around. I grabbed the wooden practice sword I had received for my 15th birthday from under my bed.

For the rest of the evening and night, I swung it, to get used to my swordsmanship skill. I didn't dare to use my other skills in the house, so I left those alone for now.

The day after, apart from small food breaks, I stayed in my room and swung my sword.

The day after that, I swung my sword some more.

For the rest of the week I did nothing but practice.

Then, after a week had passed, my parents entered my room. I didn't even notice their presence until they said something.

"Art, your father and I have been talking. We...decided that you should follow your dreams."

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I jumped up in glee hearing her declaration, but she interrupted me.

"However, only if you write letters regularly. And visit home as often as you can. And take care of yourself, oh and don't offend powerful people. And..."

"That's quite enough, Eliza. Art knows what he's doing by now. We should put some trust in him. Son, clean up and let's have one final family dinner. I'll have some supplies ready for you tomorrow morning. Then you can head off on your adventure. Just don't forget about your mom and dad when you make it big, alright Art?"

Giving him a good-natured smile, I pulled them both into a hug. That night, I went to bed full of expectations, fear and excitement. Tomorrow would be the big day.

 

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The next day, I woke up early, only to find the house empty. On the dinner table laid a number of objects. A pouch filled with coins, a letter, a satchel filled with dried food of varied kinds, some leather garments and a....sword in a scabbard? With some hesitation, I decided to read the letter first.

 

Dear Son,

As promised, we've prepared some supplies for you. To be honest, your mother and I have saved up some coin over the past few years since we've opened the bakery, just for this day. We knew the time would come when you started training like your little life depended on it.

By now you'll also have noticed the little present we ordered to be made a week ago. Consider it your eighteenth birthday present. Don't lose it, we've properly burned through our savings now, we can't afford another one.

Perhaps you'll also have noticed our absence. Forgive us for not seeing you off. If we had stayed, we'd never have been able to see you leave. Until next time, son.

With love,

Mom and Dad.

 

Teary eyed, I lifted the bastard sword out of the scabbard.

Ding! You've come into contact with an ownerless sword. Accept bond? Bond accepted. Calibrating....Done.

 

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