A forest.
The sound of the rustling of leaves as someone ran through them in the dead of night.
The quickness of his breath, his heart pumping wildly in his chest, the cracking of twigs beneath his feet betraying his location with each desperate step.
Behind him, were the flickering flames of torches being held by a small group of men in green armor, a platoon.
"We found him over there," one of the soldiers yelled at his companions, his voice cutting through the night air like a knife.
The man stopped not because of the men but because he found himself with nowhere to go, he was at the edge of the cliff, a precipice and bellow it was the calm dark sea. The man snapped his head backwards, gritting his teeth, his eyes wild with desperation as he searched for any other escape.
"Tsk."
The moonlight illuminated his features for a brief moment – a face lined with exhaustion, clothes torn and tattered, a scar along his nose and blonde hair styled in a bob cut.
"You're cornered, stand down," one of the soldiers said, his voice authoritative yet cautious, as if approaching a wounded beast.
"Drop your weapons."
"Surrender."
The platoon slowly advanced, hands steady on their weapons. They formed a semicircle, cutting off any hope of escape through the forest.
The man however didn't hear them, looking back once more at the edge of the cliff and the now not so still looking water below him. The waves crashed against the jagged rocks at the bottom, he had two options.
The man had soon made his choice.
He jumped.
"HEY!" a soldier yelled, lunging forward too late to catch the fleeing figure, that was the last thing the man heard before he plunged into the depths.
The soldiers rushed to the edge, their torches illuminating nothing but the churning waters below, no sign of the fugitive to be found.
Bardr POV
I looked at my filled net with satisfaction, I had just come back from fishing and I was in a really good mood. The morning sun warmed my skin, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of salt and sea.
"It's a fine day," I sighed, taking a moment to enjoy the warmth on my face. "I got lots of fish, but..."
GROWL
My stomach interrupted my own train of thought, loud enough that I glanced around to make sure no one had heard.
Gods was I hungry, and looking at the fresh fish only made me all the hungrier, it wouldn't matter if I ate one right? I mean who would notice. Just one small fish, cooked over a quick fire – the thought made my mouth water. I reached into the net, my fingers just brushing against the silvery scales.
"Pops!"
A childish voice reached my ears and stopped me from getting any more thoughts of fish. I turned to look at the five year old running at me, a big wide smile on his face, and a small sack in his right hand. His purple hair bounced with each step, tied in that little bun that his mother insisted on.
"I brought food!" Sinbad yelled running as fast as his little legs could carry him, gods was he adorable, I was quite sure he would be quite the looker once he grew up, well it was only natural after all he took after me.
Sin opened up the sack revealing a canteen, potatoes and smoked fish on a stick, the aroma immediately making my stomach growl even louder.
"Oh you saved me Sinbad," I said unceremoniously as we both began to dig in to the food, sitting on the warm sand by my boat. "I almost ate all the fish I caught."
"You need to remember to get lunch before you go fishing or one day you really will eat all our fish," Sinbad sighed as he bit off another part of his potato, his cheeks puffed out with food.
I laughed, ruffling his hair. "Yeah I know, but I'm just so forgetful early in the morning I mean can you blame your old man."
Sinbad looked at me before digging into his potato and nodding while saying. "Yes."
"Yes?" I questioned, feigning offense. "What do you mean by saying yes you little scamp."
I began to ruffle my son's hair again, harder this time, but he quickly pushed my hands away with a determination that made me smile.
"Pops, don't do that, I'm not a kid anymore. I'm five years old already," he declared with all the seriousness a five-year-old could muster. "In fact how about you let me get on the boat, I can help you."
I thought back to two years ago, an event that Sinbad had seemed to all but forgotten. That day in the storm when my three-year-old son had somehow known the way to safety.
"No I don't think so," I said as I put my hand over his head, gentler this time.
"You're mean. Why not!" Sinbad pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You'll get in my way. I can't have a kid on my boat," I said, trying to keep my voice light.
"Why is that?" Sinbad asked his head hanging low, his voice suddenly small. "I-I can be useful to you."
I looked at Sinbad, shaking my head. His disappointment was palpable, and it tugged at my heart in a way I couldn't easily dismiss. But the sea was dangerous, unpredictable. I had been lucky to survive that storm with him last time, I couldn't risk it again.
"I'm sorry Sin but no," I said, then softened my tone. "However how about this, when you're a little older I'll let you on the boat as much as you like. Gods we can even spend the night on the sea if you want to. I'll train you up then too."
Sinbad sniffled back his tears, his wide eyes looking at me once more, a spark of hope lighting them up.
"Pops-"
But before Sinbad said whatever he wanted to say we were interrupted.
"Oi, what are you doing?"
I craned my neck back to see a group of five people, three men and two women. They all seemed mundane, dressed in the simple clothes of townspeople, but their expressions were anything but friendly. Their faces were twisted with a familiar contempt that I had grown accustomed to over the past months.
"Am I not allowed to fish?" I asked, already knowing where this was heading.
"Allowed to fish," one of the men said, his voice dripping with disdain. "How shameless. How could you say stuff like that?"
"Traitor," another of the group yelled, stepping forward with clenched fists.
Yeah, I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. The Parthevia Empire, otherwise known as the Beast Empire, had achieved a monumental victory and changed its name to the New Parthevia Empire. Encouraged by its success, it started a war with the Reim Empire, otherwise known as the Empire of War.
It started off well enough but it had soon changed. Financial difficulty led to the impoverishment of Parthevians. What remained was the national obsession to win the war. People had become intolerant to those who didn't cooperate with the war.
A war I had given too much to already. My leg, honestly being the least of it.
The man at front grabbed at my shirt, his fingers digging into the fabric as he pulled me closer, raising his other hand into a fist. His breath reeked of cheap alcohol and desperation.
"Hey everyone's having a hard life you know and yet still cooperating with the war. What's up with you! How could you be fishing so leisurely!"
"Say something!" one of the women demanded, her face flushed with anger.
"Weren't you a hero!" the other woman added, her voice laced with disappointment, as if I had personally betrayed her.
More and more yells came from the group, their voices overlapping into a cacophony of accusations.
"You're a traitor to the empire."
"Men are dying on the battlefield while you sit here catching fish!"
"My son left for the front lines yesterday – where's your contribution?"
Their anger wasn't warranted but I understood were they were coming from.
I was then thrown to the ground from my collar, landing hard on the sand. My crutch clattered beside me, just out of reach.
"Pops!" Sinbad yelled as he rushed, grabbing at my arm, his small face contorted with worry.
I however thought all of this was quite funny and so I laughed.
"Hahahahaha!!"
"What's so funny?" one of the men asked indignant, his face reddening further.
"Sorry," I said stifling my laugh. "You're so passionate about the war. To be honest I'm not interested in anything about how this country is doing. 'Will it be sunny tomorrow?' 'I want a drink with my dinner'. Honestly those are the things I think about."
"HOW DARE YOU!" the man said raising his fist and punching at me, and I let him, after all these people weren't at fault. They were just as much victims of this war as I was, their anger misdirected but understandable.
The blow landed squarely on my jaw, the pain blossoming outward like a flower. I felt myself black out, huh must be my flaw acting up.
As the darkness took me, I heard Sinbad's voice, distant and frantic.
"Leave him alone! Leave my father alone!"
Then nothing.
"Pops, pops!"
I heard the yell of Sin at my side as he tussled me from side to side, his small hands surprisingly strong.
"Sin," I muttered, my eyes opened lazily, the world slowly coming back into focus.
I sat up to see the setting sun, its dying light painting the beach in shades of gold and crimson. The group was long gone, leaving only footprints in the sand as evidence of their visit.
"Sin are you okay?" I asked, checking him over for any signs of injury. If they had touched a hair on his head, I might have broken my vow of peace right then and there.
"Yeah," he answered, but his eyes were red-rimmed, evidence of tears shed while I was unconscious.
I looked down to see the food sprawled on the floor, trampled and ruined in the scuffle. The lunch Esra had carefully prepared for us, now nothing more than waste.
"Hah," I sighed. "The lunch your mom made is ruined."
I grabbed one of the better looking potatoes and patted off the sand before taking a bite out.
"Sin, it's still surprisingly good," I said smiling at my son, trying to lighten the mood.
"Why?" Sin asked, his voice small but filled with a frustration that seemed too big for his little body. "Why is it pops? You're a hero aren't you? If you were serious, you could easily beat them up."
There was an accusation in his voice, a disappointment that cut deeper than most wounds I had received.
"Hey I don't think I could," I said pointing at my leg, but that was a lie, and somehow Sinbad knew it. Even with my injury, I was an Ascended. I could have put those people in the ground without breaking a sweat. But I just didn't see a point in fighting anymore. Violence only ever led to more violence, a lesson I had learned the hard way.
Sinbad however just had tears begin to run down his cheeks, his small fists clenched at his sides.
"You- you, I can't understand you pops!"
"Sin," I started, reaching for him, but before I could say anything else, before I could explain, he had begun to run back to the house, his small figure disappearing around the bend in the path.
I simply sighed and used my crutch to stand, slowly making my way back to the house. The setting sun cast long shadows before me, stretching out like the ghosts of all the men who had died by my hand.
Our home was modest but warm, the smell of cooking emanating from within. I parted the door to see my wife, Esra and Sinbad already taking their seats at the table with the dinner ready, Sinbad was angrily eating at a piece of fish, his movements jerky and frustrated. Esra looked up as I entered, her eyes questioning but gentle.
I took my own seat before beginning to drink my stew, the warmth of it spreading through my chest, gods was her cooking good.
"Sinbad, what's the matter," Esra asked, startled by how angrily Sin was munching up her delicious food.
"Nothing," he answered finishing the last of his fish, his voice clipped. "I'm done eating."
I guess I had to talk it out with Esra myself, so an idea only a genius like myself could be able to come up with entered my mind.
"Sin, the water in the pot is running low. Can you draw water from the well? Even a child like you could do something like that, right?" I asked, knowing that giving him a task might cool his anger, distract him from his frustration with me.
Sinbad stood up angrily. "Unlike you I'm a proper man," he snapped. He then ran to our water pot, which was almost as big as himself and picked it up. "Drawing water is a piece of cake," he muttered angrily making his way out of our home, the door slamming behind him with a force that made the dishes rattle.
"Oh my," Esra said, her voice tired. "Honey are you okay with all of this. When you retired you were considered a hero, but now you're treated like a traitor."
She reached across the table, taking my hand in hers, her fingers calloused from years of hard work. Even in this dim light, she was beautiful, her amber eyes filled with concern.
"Let people say what they want. I'm not bothered by it," I said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
"It's not just your problem," Esra said her voice cracking slightly, a rare display of vulnerability from a woman who had always been stronger than she looked. "What about our lives? We don't have money saved up. How are we going to live."
As she finished we fell into silence, I wasn't quite sure how to answer all this myself. The truth was, I didn't know. Each day was a struggle to put food on the table, to maintain the façade of normalcy for Sinbad's sake. The empire had once heralded me as a hero, but heroes, it seemed, were only useful as long as they continued to serve.
Thankfully, a childish voice interrupted us, cutting through the heavy silence.
"Pops! Sinbad yelled as he gasped for air, bursting through the door.
"Sin?" I asked, seeing that he had no water pot with him, alarm immediately rising within me. "What's the matter?"
His eyes were wide, not with anger now but with excitement, a wild look that I had seen once before, on a storm-tossed boat.
"There's a man," he said, breathless. "A stranger. He washed up on the shore!"
A/N: Actually I decided to upload three, I'm too magnanimous for my own good