The Son of a Soldier

Chapter One: Good Bye, Old Friend

May, 838

If you're reading this, I consider this a major breach of privacy, and you should be ashamed of yourself. I should probably start at the beginning, after all this is kind of my life's work isn't it? My name is Mihael Klein. As I'm writing this, I'm eleven years old, but if I'm as committed to this as possible, I probably won't be by the end. I know, it's a bit morbid for a a "little" boy to acknowledge his own death, but I feel it's best to come to terms with it sooner rather than later.  This is a strange way to use a notebook, I know, but think of this less as a notebook and more of an... investigative journal. Yeah! That sounds way cooler. Um, well, anyways, I should probably tell you what I'm investigating, shouldn't I? This is where things get personally, so this is your final chance to leave if you aren't supposed to be here. Are you gone?...Good. So, this is my investigation into trying to find my dad.

I knew something was wrong from a young age. I would go to play in the streets with the other kids, and something just... wasn't right. I wasn't a sissy, or bookish, or anything like that. It just seemed like the other boys were... more than me? I couldn't see anything wrong, there were no physical differences between us, but that was the thing. There was something different between us. As odd as it was, it was because I didn't have... a dad. I never knew my father. I never had someone who could toughen me up. I had my mom, and I'd be lying if I said she wasn't enough, but there were certain things she just couldn't make up for.

Flash Back:

"Ow ow ow!" I swung my leg out in pain, accidentally bumping mother in the shoulder.

"Mihael! You need to sit still! How am I supposed to clean you up if I can't touch you?"

I sniffled, my leg stinging from the exposed skin underneath. "But it hurts mama!"

Mother clicked her tongue. "Honestly, I knew you shouldn't've been rough housing with those Meier boys, just look at you." Mother lifted my chin gently, "If you want to be a little man, I'll let you go. Maybe you can see if the other kids are still outside." Mother rises from in front of me and begins to walk away.

"What the-"

I pulled on one of her blond braids, a pout still on my face. Mother looked surprised for a moment, but then her face melted into a smile. "Ah, you maybe a little man," she lightly pulled my wrist from her hair, "but you're still my boy."

Mother then embraced me, holding me close, and a tear fell from my eye. "Ow." Our giggles were carried over the roofs of Mitas as the sun set.

Back to Real Time:

Mom doesn't like to talk about dad. Ever. she only ever mentioned him if she happened to slip up. From the time I started trying to find him, and the time I've started writing in this journal, I haven't been able to find out much of anything about him. It's almost as if he never even existed. But obviously he does, or at least did. So that kind of pushes me on, you know? I obviously don't have much so far, but I will keep you posted.

I closed the leather cover of the notebook onto the pages, and slid the book into the open drawer of the desk. I glance down through the floorboards and see mother has already drifted off to sleep and was snoring peacefully in her bed in the corner. I shifted my weight in the chair and rest my head in my hands. I yawned as my eyes slowly started to close.

"Goodnight, mom." I punctuate my sentence with another yawn. Good night, dad.

"My goodness Mihael! Were you up here all night?"

I woke up with a start to the shouting of mom and the rapid shaking of my shoulder. "Ah!"

I jolted upwards and promptly fell out of my chair, landing at mother's feet.