3. Your Friendly Neighborhood

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Chapter 3

Your Friendly Neighborhood

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 Stade couldn't remember the last time he had felt so exhausted. His body was aching all over, his vision was failing him, and he couldn't think straight. All he wanted at the moment was to lie down and rest. Although he knew that his clothes were filthy and that his wounds still needed cleaning, the desire to close his eyes and sleep overcame him.

 He was sweeping the floor of their small barn, as he always found himself doing whenever he dreamt about that dreadful day. And here he was again, sweeping.

 It should have been like any other day after harvest when he and his father would travel to the Clan of Trade to sell the grain they grew from their small field. But it wasn't. Their father wasn't with them anymore. He was dead, killed like the other farmers who had attempted to defend their clan several months ago.

 So as Stade swept the floor of their small barn, he knew that no one else would take care of his family but himself. Although he was only thirteen at the time, he knew that he had to make the trip to sell their harvest. He was left with no other option then to take responsibility. He would never forget the time when he had reluctantly promised his father this just before his father picked up his sword and left.

 "Stade...Stade...Stade?" He heard a familiar voice say. He felt someone tugging on his shirt and he turned to see his younger sister, Prentice, looking up at him impatiently.

 "What is it, Prentice?"

 "Are...are you still going to the Clan of Trade?"

 Stade continued cleaning up the stable without answering. He waited a few moments before looking at Prentice again. But as he swept, he noticed that he wasn't sweeping the dirt floor anymore, but grass.

 Grass?Since when had there been grass in here? He thought to himself.

 Startled, Stade looked around.He wasn't in the barn anymore. He was in what seemed like a field, a grain field. He smelled a disgusting stench so bad that it made his stomach hurt. And the grass he was sweeping was an alarming shade of red. A sudden surge of panic seized him. Stade knew where he was.

 The grassy field was soaked with blood. The horrible smell that upset his stomach came from the hundreds of dead bodies lying scattered around the place. The scene as terrifying and horrible as Stade remembered.

 His ears were ringing. His heart beat faster and faster. When he looked at the nearest corpse, it turned toward him it said, "Stade," but instead of a man's voice, he heard his sister talking to him with the same annoyed tone, "Please answer my question."

 Stade turned around and found Prentice still staring back at him impatiently. The field was gone. There were no corpses anywhere and the dead body of his father was nowhere to be seen.

 Stade realized he had just finished sweeping the floor of the barn. He placed down the broom and let it lean against the wall.

 "Well?" Prentice said anxiously looking at him.

 "Prentice," Stade turned towards her to answer, "I don't have a choice."

 Stade looked towards the grain sacks stacked against the opposite wall of the stable and wondered what it would be like to travel all the way to the Clan of Trade alone. He sat down on the haystack and Prentice sat beside him.

 "I have to," Stade continued, "or else we wouldn't have enough money this year for our schooling and other stuff."

 Stade could feel his sister's shoulder touching his arm as they sat there together in silence. He turned to look at her and found her fiddling with her braids and blinking her eyes. Whenever she did this, Stade couldn't help but reply with a playful smile.

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