Tipping the Scales

2

It was the early hours of the evening. The entire population of Rosehallow had gathered in the village clearing. Though only around sixty called Rosehallow their home, it was unusual for everyone to gather in one place. Such occasions only took place for celebrations and funerals. Tonight, there was an uneasy atmosphere.

The villagers sat atop hay bales with wooden crates acting as makeshift tables, all ferociously tucking into the lean, chewy meat of the Plaguer. At the centre of the arrangement, a bonfire had been lit to ward off evil. Darcie was distributing meat from her hut, along with a colourless liquid. This concoction was a mystery to Lukas. The aroma alone was enough to attack the senses, stinging the eyes and nose. Drinking this foul substance could only be compared to swallowing an irritated wasp. Tobias could rarely be seen without a cup in his hand, and the rest of the village's adults were drinking it tonight. It was for this reason that Lukas found himself with his own cup of the foul liquid.

Sat at the edge of the clearing, just beyond reach from the heat emanating from the bonfire, Lukas' mind was absent. His eyes stared deeply into the flames, dancing in brilliant shades of orange and red towards the darkness of the night sky. The elongated shadows of dancing children flickered and contorted into demonic silhouettes. Lukas subconsciously touched his belly, where he felt a familiar burning sensation.

"Lukas," Tobias' face came into focus, his hand gently shaking Lukas back into reality. "You weren't present for moment?"

Lukas blinked, the burning sensation dissipated. "Tobias - how are you finding the meat?"

"Tough, but nothing a little of Darcie's magic can't wash down." He said, holding out a large cup of the clear liquid.

"I never see your cup empty," Lukas allowed himself to relax.

"Do as I say, not as I do." Tobias lectured, emptying the contents of Lukas' cup into his own. His guiding words reminded Lukas of his upbringing. Since a very young age, Tobias had instilled into the boy everything he could teach him. Which was a great many list of things the old veteran had picked up over the years aside from just swordplay and how to use a bow. All in preparation for the journey beginning tomorrow, one that would likely see him never return to Rosehallow.

"Go have a few words with Jaspar," Tobias said, "he is not nearly as calm as yourself."

It was true, the boy had no reason to be.

"Can we talk later? I have a few questions to ask you," Lukas asked, getting up from the hard, wooden box and wiping away the dust and mud from his breeches.

Tobias simply nodded. "I believe you know where to find him."

Lukas was already heading there, away from the hubbub of the clearing. He followed a well-trodden path to the outskirts of the town, where the village barn stood. The barn was a small wooden structure which housed all the crops harvested from the fields surrounding the town. Upon pushing the door open, the earthy scent of turnips and potatoes, freshly harvested from the field, flooded Lukas' nostrils with a wave of nostalgia. This barn held some of the few fond memories Lukas had of his childhood.

Jaspar was a boy of similar age to Lukas, one of the only in the village. Despite this, the two had shared little time together as Jaspar spent most his time tending the fields with his mother and two sisters, not caring for the training offered by Tobias. Lukas on the other hand was rarely seen in the fields with the other villagers, his time absorbed by Tobias' mentoring. Like every other child in the village, Jaspar's father had left to fight in yet another war with the non-humans in some far-off land, leaving his wife and children behind with no indication as to whether he was alive or dead.