Everthone Waters

Conscription Scrolls.

     Acacia Pxidorn, Everthrone Glades:

"I will need every man, and few boys the age of, in every household, to gather and prepare for conscription immediately. 

Conscription exceptions will be few and far between. Do not search for special treatment, you will not find it in this time of war. We will need healers on standby for the return of our injured, if this is you, meet with your figurehead and he will instruct you from then on. 

In terms of village safety; I will be imposing an evening curfew, with exceptions of royal and governing personal only. We advise you to remain unseen, unheard and sheltered unless absolutely necessary.  This is all for your benefit, I encourage you to come to your senses and see that we only wish to help. The royal family hope to see you extending courtesy among your neighborhoods and families. 

This will be all, and as of THIS minute all restrictions in place are considered effective immediately."

After my father's speech, the crowd groaned, few even Hollard out profanities. The thought of yet another curfew and even more restrictions, I would be annoyed too. I understand their frustration, and my heart breaks for the families already struggling to feed themselves already as our kingdom is. These curfews are devastating to our workers, families and all of the new and expecting mothers here. I've decided I will go help serve rations, aid the farmers who are already understaffed and overworked, and take up my post- giving conscription orders, as usual.  Grabbing the sack of scrolls off the pedestal my father stood at moments ago; I sling it over my back and haul over to the center square where we are to read them out. 

As dawn is breaking, I stand in the square, sat above the men that were called for earlier. I see their fear, their regret, and the trepidation in their groups.  As I take my place at the podium, i reach my hand into the sac and grab one of the many scrolls off the top. Murmurs rise from onlookers, but a great silence falls over all of the men young and old; sick and well. Conscription Scrolls are assembled by family name or legacy; so before I read and send off the first family to bid adieu to their sons and fathers, I want to give an apology and speech of remorse for the King's orders. 

As I prepare my words, a heavy hand claps down my shoulder and squeezes with urgency. I spin round to see My father's disapproving looks baring holes into my reddened face. My nerves plummet with the single word he commands me;

"No."

Giving a sharp nod, he releases his hand, but doesn't break contact; signalling me to continue reading off the orders as I always have.  He is always getting on my nerves, saying things like 

"Now is not the time to cause uprising, my little firecracker "

And of course, his word is final. To challenge it would be a declaration of treason and utmost disrespect. I am at a loss as to why he calls me a firecracker, but the talk is that I am said to be opinionated, quick-tempered,  and my untamable mane flies red as the dawn. All true, all compliments if you'd ask my opinion, but Father doesn't think so. He uses it to degrade me, not caring to know it does the exact opposite. 

Clearing my throat, I silently pray a prayer of forgiveness. 

" The Families of this scroll are as follows, all will be conscripted with no exceptions. So when you are called, please find your superior and report for further instructions."