He was Almost Absorbed by the System

Chapter Forty Eight - Training from Dawn to Dusk

Willow lazed about on the wagon, which was loaded with firs and thick sapling trunks, whilst playing a pretty tune upon his flute. The flute was longer than the simple flute he still wore at his hip, to take account of his lengthening, slender fingers. There was little embellishments carved between mouthpiece and air holes and upon the base, but these carvings of flowers and leaves did little to detract from its playability and true sound. It was a beautiful musical instrument.

Three wagons journeyed south of the village, in a direction that Willow had not been before. The first held barrels of fruit and forest herbs, the last held some carcasses of fresh meat. The wagon Willow travelled upon journeyed in line between them, pulled by three sturdy stompers, guided by their handlers and protected by village warriors.

Willow had not wanted to be part of this journey, but his parents had given him no choice. As he had grown taller and even more graceful and agile, they were no longer able to control his antics and were increasingly worried over his excursions into the forest. Though there had been no reports of large predators, such as sabres lingering nearby, there were still many smaller ones, who would just as easily take a bite out of a child would the opportunity arise. And so he had been forced to join the wagons travelling to the caves and over forest villages whenever his father was chosen to guard.

Bored, he began to carve a new doll for one of his four year old sister's.

Suddenly the wagon halted. Willow came to realise that they had reached the forest edge. Just like the entrance to Slate's home, the ground here hardened into rock, but there were no cave formations rising from it. Long, sharp grasses and stubby little bushes had taken root in the few soft soil areas tucked between the rocks and stone. Waiting ahead of them, were a people like he had never seen before. They were skins were pale like carved birch wood or dark like old bark. Their hair was all sorts of muddy colours, but lacked the richness of a cave person. They wore weird, heavy looking clothes and held strange, bulky weapons. However, despite the wariness that rose within Willow, the elder warrior did not look fazed at all.

"Greetings General Chang Ju," the elder said, respectfully.

"Greetings Elder Spruce," a large woman stepped forward and bowed slightly. Willow stared at the female, for she was a person who required a long look. Her hair was matted, shaped and twisted like thick rope vines, to fall down her broad back. There was a relaxed nature about her stance, but her alert eyes indicated that this could change in a moment's breath. And also she happened to be the largest woman that Willow had ever seen.  Not fat, exactly, just large.

The elder glanced over her companions. "I see you brought young ones?"

He seemed to be referring to a young man, who appeared not much taller than Willow, though his features suggested that he was a few years older. His dark hair was a mess of curls upon his head and fell over his eyes, hiding them from view. "Trouble maker, more like it!" The woman claimed, slapping the boy harshly about his head.

"Ow! Mom!" The boy complained. The tall youth next to him hid a chuckle behind his hand, but others were more open with their laughter.

"Ah, you experience such hardships also," the elder chuckled as his eyes turned to gaze at Willow on top of the wagon. The boy crossed his arms about his chest, looking indignant.

"A parent just has to find the right thing to keep 'em occupied," the woman stated. "That's why my boy is joining the army!"

Willow tilted his head to one side, not recognising the word. The men with the large woman looked surprised, unable to stop their eyes from falling upon the short, slender youth. Their eyes filled with pity.

After a trade was negotiated and the wagon began to travel homeward, the boy finally asked; "Who were they?"

****

"Outsiders," Slate mumbled as Willow spilled all about his journey to the boy that dusk.

"Yes, that is what dad said," Willow agreed.

"Cave people don't talk to Outsiders," Slate advised him.

"Why?" Willow asked.

"Apparently they did something bad to us in the past," Slate told him. "Something that cannot be forgiven."

Willow tilted his head and thought about these words. "Hmm, okay, so if you won't talk to them, then neither will I."

Slate laughed, gently and reached to ruffle the boy's red hair. "There's no need to go that far." The sun had almost disappeared beyond the horizon, meaning it was Willow's time to leave.

"Oh, I have something for you, by the way," he smiled, shyly. He tied a bracelet of beads about Slate's wrist. The beads were mostly carved of wood, but there were two beads carved into snail shells made of soft green jade. Willow sped away blushing furiously, leaving the dazed Slate behind him.

****

At the age of twelve, it was normal for boys and girls of both forest and cave villages to take on an apprenticeship. Forest children had been watched and taught several skills since they were old enough to hold a knife, cave children tended to follow in their families steps, unless there was a good reason that they could not. Willow had already disappointed his father, being too soft of heart and distracted of mind to follow his path of being a warrior, but this was his own wish and not the wishes of the village, who were happy to accept a talented crafter into their midst.

Slate's grandfather was fuming. He had wisely held his tongue at the apprentice ceremony, where children were allocated to a master of their occupation, but he refused to hold back his words in private. "What is the meaning of giving my grandson to the barracks?" He demanded of the Chief. "That boy is a miner, like his father before him and I, his grandfather!"

"It was felt that he was better suited there," the Chief lied. He did not mention that his precious daughter had begged for him to join the hunters. When asked why, she had convinced him with the factual statement;

"You do not want your daughter wedding a miner, do you?"

The Chief offered a respectful and reasonable air; "Come now, Elder. As great a mining family as you are, the boy has only you now and you are getting on in years. Should something happen to you before he is of age, how will he fair? At least the Hunters always protect and care for their own."

Furious more that there was some truth to the Chief's words, he let the subject alone, but he remained vocal in his disapproval, even though it got him nowhere.

Slate moved into the barracks where the hunters stayed during daylight hours. A hunter was not just a man or woman who hunted on the outside for food, they were also the protectors of the village. They would guard caravans and they would kill underground beasts that threatened their homes. They used spears and swords made of iron and practice and train at fixed hours of the night. It was a trying time for Slate, whose free time had been dramatically reduced and found it more difficult to sneak out of the village than before.

****

"Ah! I had wanted you to carve us a better game," Slate lamented. "But now we have to make do with pebbles and a chalk drawn board. And worse, there is even less chance to play!" Willow giggled as he lay his piece, dark side up and flipped two corresponding pieces.

"You'd still beat me anyway," Willow mused, he had not successfully won one game since Slate had taught him the rules over two years past. He didn't mind though, it was still fun to play the game. He reached for the flute tied at his hip and began to play a sweeping song, that seemed a little melancholy. Not that he was unhappy at this moment, more that Slate's words were true; they managed to meet just a handful of times a week and much of that time was barely a few fleeting minutes.

Slate placed a pebble down, it's paler side skyward. It had taken him almost a year to find pebbles that could be used for the game, they were all shapes and sizes, with just two similarities, they were flattish, with one side darker than the other. He turned over pieces that were now to face upward light side thanks to his move.

"Ah, you won again," Willow mentioned, before continuing to play the tune.

"Yeah," Slate replied.