The Wiekts HART

- A Chance -

Hart Wiekt didn't know how much longer he should lay there on the dirty road in the border of Elesia and Proscris and in between the fast-leaving life and the waiting death. He didn't even know how long he had stayed there, not moving, not doing anything, except waiting for the life to drain from inside of him. He had long ago forsaken the chance of coming home alive. Now, as he lay there, barely breathing, he started to think that death was a welcomed opportunity. However, the rain that had fallen so hard a moment ago suddenly stopped and the sky cleared. It was a complete mockery to the state he was in. For the sky to be so bright and blue while his life was bleak and grey and starting to leave him, it was the final straw that triggered his tears to flow. It was a hopeful gesture from every deity up there, but it was what crushed his hope. It all seemed impossible to even think of. The odds were against him. He knew his body. There was a very slim chance of his battered body survived the wounds that the war brought upon it. In the end, he knew that there was no chance after all.

***

The following days after the big announcement from his father were eerily quiet. No shouting, no protestations, no complains whatsoever from Elydite. Deep inside, Hart knew that the war that his father mentioned as his way to glory would bring nothing except defeat and shame. He also knew that he would not come out unscathed from it. He was not a trained soldier. He made weapons, yes that was true, but that was it. He only made them, but he never used them in battle or even for simple practice. It was more of his brother's expertise. But Thoar was still 16. He would never be allowed to join the King in this upcoming war. Hart was the oldest and as the oldest son of this family, it was his duty to bring honor and glory to this family, just like what his father said. This war would be cruel and bloody but this was his chance to bring the name of the Wiekt family even higher than before.

"Elydite..." called Hart softly. His wife didn't respond.

This was the last day in the period given by the King for all of the men in his kingdom to report to the nearest post. They must report in order to fulfill their duty as a citizen of Proscris. They must report in order to join the King's army. This would be the day where Hart finally decided what he was going to do. Seeing the odds, this would also be the last day that Hart would be able to see his wife for an undetermined period of time. On this pivotal morning, they were going on their daily routines just like any other day. As if everything was normal. Everything was the same. They were bustling around their small kitchen, preparing things for breakfast and for work. The fire roaring, outside the birds were chirping happily, as if absolutely nothing was happening.

"Elydite, please, talk to me," pleaded Hart. He was preparing to go to work for probably the last time, and Elydite was preparing his breakfast for probably the last time. But his wife wouldn't talk to him.

"Elydite, please," said Hart. This time, he stopped her from setting up the table for their breakfast. He grabbed her hands and tried his best to look at her eyes. "This is the last day that we'll meet."

She pinned him with a sharp look. She wrenched her hands out of his grasp and turned back. Inhaling and exhaling, trying desperately to calm herself down to no avail. She started to sob despite her best effort to stop herself from losing herself.

"What would you like me to say?" asked Elydite.

"Nothing. Anything," answered Hart.

"No matter what I said, you will always follow your father."

Hart sighed. "Elydite..." he also had this debate inside his mind. He had just started to love his wife. Even though they didn't get married because of love, but now, he was starting to be really content with her, and he was beginning to love her. But he'd followed his father his whole life. It was not easy to suddenly stop doing so. And there were also the social repercussions that his family would suffer from his actions. It was much more complicated than it looked. He put his hand on his face and said, "It's complicated."