Twisted Choices

Chapter 40

Hero's eyes darted to the doorstep. Mrs. Yale winced next to him at the mention to someone she cared for. His soldiers, oh god, he can even tell their names. His cadets, his soldiers that he trained so well.

They were looking to arrest him.

They held up a piece of paper, and Hero could read it with his superb eyesight.

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

PREVIOUS GENERAL PERSSON

LAST SEEN LEAVING THE NORTH KINGDOM WEARING THE ROYAL MILITARY TRAINING OUTFIT, AS SEEN BELOW

25K EMERALD AWARD

Motherfuck.

They had a picture of him in the exact same training outfit. The blue shirt with 'ROYAL MILITARY' at the back, and the logo in the front with his own name below. He was standing in position next to the soldiers he trained with, as some sort of batch photo. He wore the required black pants, with the polished combat boots. The gloves used for weaponry grip were on his hands, and his previously long hair was tied in his same old ponytail. He had his eyes back then too.

Mr. Yale stared at the poster and just said gruffly, "Can't help you fellas. Have a good day."

He tried to shut the door but was stopped when one of the soldiers slipped a boot through the door to stop it. Hero would have been proud of how stern they were if not for the situation he was in. The soldiers barged in, and Mr. Yale fumed silently. He stood protectively behind his wife and Hero. The soldier holding the poster turned to Mrs. Yale, and asked about Hero.

She shook her head with a hate-fueled smile. They turned to Hero, and looked him up and down. A few of them snickered at his height. Hero looked unamused, and his hand was itching to discipline them. To show them who he was, and how disrespectful it was to mock a superior. His hand curled into a fist as he inhaled deeply. He stared straight at the soldier, his soldier.

The soldier looked taken aback with how familiar the anger in those blue eyes were.

He did not move his head and said loud and clear, authority laced in his tongue. "No."

The soldiers lurking behind snapped up and went to stand at attention. Hero realized his mistake. He had said no several times in his military time to soldiers who complained. Everyone was familiar with his commanding tone, and when that tone was heard, even if soft, everyone would snap at attention, ready to salute him if he passed by. Only if it was guaranteed that he had left the perimeter, would they resume their duties.

All eyes went to Hero, and the soldier spluttered, "I-I, s-sir-what?"

Hero cleared his throat and spoke gentler. "No, I have never seen the monster other than in the papers."

Mr. Yale looked puzzled. The soldiers who were now in position shivered at the familiar voice. The soldier who held the poster blinked. Hero caught the recognition in Mrs. Yale's eyes.

The soldiers nodded dumbly and stumbled out, muttering an apology to the Yales. Mr. Yale shook his head and properly wished Hero good luck on his travels. Mrs. Yale insisted on seeing him to the porch, so she guided him out alone.

Hero found himself in a motherly bone-crushing hug with Mrs. Yale. He raised his head, and saw her looking at him, as if she knew.

"Please be safe out there, dear. If you see them again, keep going and keep jumping from village to village. Make sure you don't leave any evidence, or a pattern."

Hero's eyes widened. "Do you know who I-"

She grinned. "Of course. And don't worry, my dear. I don't blame you for anything."