Revolution

Chapter 2: Books

"You're going to get yourself killed."

These words were shortly followed by an exaggerated groan and quiet thud of a sword being violently thrown against the dusty ground. A small girl crouched next to it, cradling her head in her hands.

"I-It's too heavy." She sobbed, not daring to look up at the man, who arched an eyebrow and let out a harsh breath of irritation.

Her hands were badly blistered and raw from overuse. So much so that her tears burned into her flesh, but she withstood the pain and hid her face. She felt humiliated, for being weak. For crying. Her life was a constant cycle of training and she could not remember a day when her body had not felt like hellfire. Her muscles screamed with each tiny movement of her body and her body was littered with countless cuts and bruises. Recently, it seemed like everyone was always disappointed with her no matter how hard she tried. Especially the villagers, who were impatient with her slow progress. Even the crows that had gathered around her were laughing at her expense. She squeezed her eyes shut, ducked her head and prepared herself for a string of scorn and contempt.

But it never came.

Instead she was scooped up into the air and cradled into two large arms. She opened her eyes in surprise and saw that the man was carrying her, his eyes were focused on the path ahead and betrayed no emotion. Though many would have adverted their eyes from his steely gaze, she knew he was just putting up a front and wasn't as scary as he had lead everyone to believe. He might have been intimidating and demanding, but he was anything but cruel. Feeling relieved, Althea quickly wiped away her tears and even let out a small giggle.

The man stopped and gently put her down in front of house on the street that seemed slightly battered and unused. So it was to no one's surprise that the door almost crumbled when he tried to push past it. Impatient and excited, Althea weaved passed his legs and made her way into the room. Her breathing quickened with every second, and her eyes darted excitedly around the room.

The walls were lined with shelves and there were at least twenty books perched on the stands. Despite the run-down look of the room, the books didn't have a spec of dust on them. Althea gaped. Never before had she seen so many books in one place. Usually it was too expensive to ever own more than one.

In the spur of the moment, she hastily tried to reach for one of the stories, only to be impeded by a croaky screech.

"THIEF!"

Startled, she ran behind the man who had carried her and hid behind one of his legs. She angled her head and cautiously looked for the source of the sound. It was then that she saw an old man hunched over his desk, squinting in her direction. Suddenly, her momentary surprise was replaced with a sense of shyness and she hid herself completely from view.

"Relax, Zeb. We're here to borrow some books." The old man frowned at the mention of his name, sending a ripple of wrinkles across his features. He grunted and went back to shuffling his papers.

"What is Jasper Trodiare doing in my library?" The old man asked, his voice sounded rough and dry. Althea decided that if tree bark could speak, it wouldn't have been too different from this man's voice. He picked up his ink pen and started to scribble onto his papers, stopping occasionally to squint at his work.

"Like I said, we're here to borrow books." The chief retorted, making his way towards the book Althea had almost grabbed, floor boards creaking underneath the force of his boots as he walked.

"Isn't the little 'hero' supposed to be training?" He didn't look up from his papers as he spoke, but it was clear in his tone that he was mocking her.

"You know what they say, Zeb," Chief exclaimed, his voice hinting at the smallest amount of amusement, "knowledge and intelligence outlasts all forms of force." He walked back over to Althea and handed her the book, which she clutched tightly to her chest. The old man huffed with displeasure, but still didn't look up from his desk, even when Chief placed a coin upon his desk.

"The next time I see you, I expect the book to be in pristine order." He grumbled.

"Yes, sir!" Althea piped up. She knew the previous words weren't directed at her, still she wanted to let old man know that she would treasure the book and take responsibility for whatever happened to it. Upon hearing her words, his head jerked up from his desk and gave her a strange sideways glance that almost made her want to retreat behind the Chief again.

"Sir." He repeated as he broke out into a wild toothy grin, "I like that," then he turned to the other man, "bring her back anytime you like, I could use a little help around here."

"I'd love to, sir!"

The old man chuckled audibly and shook his head from side to side before flapping his hand and shooing them out of the room.

"He hasn't laughed in years," Chief told her as they walked onto the street, "it looked like his face was about to crack."

The girl skipping in front of him turned around and looked at him with all the seriousness of a seven year old.

"Papa, don't be mean!" She huffed.

The man shrugged his shoulders and gave her a guilty expression .They walked a while longer in comfortable silence before Althea turned around again.

"Did you mean what you said back there?" She asked, her eyes flashing with uncertainty.

"What did I say?" He asked, meeting her gaze.

"'Knowledge and intelligence outlasts all forms of force,'" she quoted, "is it true?"

He looked at her, his eyes strangely distant, as if he knew something she didn't.

"Yes, it's true."

Her eyes lit up at his response, her face the complete definition of innocence.

"Oh good!" She giggled, picking up her pace until she was out of arms reach, "because I never liked that nasty sword anyway."

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