Book 2 Season's Change Spring's Revenge

Part 4 Day One

The tall and lanky red-headed young man sat quietly in his cell lost in his memories. His bare feet hung over the edge of the tiny cot as he sat prepared to stand but his memories, both bitter and sweet, kept him bound to the rickety thing they called a bed. A smile, soft and sweet, lit his eyes as he recalled the day he first met his only friend.

He had just walked out the door of his class when he heard, "Your mother made you drink yak's milk when you were a baby because she didn't want to touch you."

"Yeah, you look funny. Does your head hurt all the time Flametop?"

"Why are you so pale?" He had yet to make it to the practice field where the blades instructor waited for him. "You sure are ugly. I bet your Da if you have one, was a mountain man." His father was indeed from the mountains to the east. He didn't react to the insults. There was no sense in adding wood to the fire. The walk to the practice field was a long one. It would take them around several corners. Which meant, once they were around the first one and out of the line of sight from their previous instructor the pushing and shoving would begin.

If he was lucky, he wouldn't wind up in a mud puddle with extra bruises he knew he didn't deserve. He was simply different from the other boys in his class, actually, he was different from every boy in the town. His fiery red hair, pale skin, and blue eyes put a target on his back for the ignorant, mindless, and ultimately cruel children that he was forced to learn with. His lessons came hard and way too often. He was taught nothing but cruelty and rudeness, but he was neither cruel nor rude. He discovered the hard way that others would rather watch him be mistreated than intervene on his behalf. He often went home covered in mud with scrapes and bruises that the other boys didn't get while training because they were not different. "Hey, Hey! Firefart. I'm talking to you!" He had let his mind wander; it was best not to let it stay around while the instructors were not watching. He felt rough small hands on his shoulder and a shove from behind. He left his shoulder loose as it was pushed forward so he could stay on his feet. "You sure are ugly. No girl is ever going to touch you. Hell, I bet even horses run when they smell you coming." He knew the owner of that voice, but it had been so long since he looked up from the ground around the ones that were harassing him that he had forgotten what the rotten boy looked like. That voice belonged to one of the older boys. The boy, a couple of years older, was much bigger than he was. "Hey! Hey you. Look at me when I am talking to you." He knew better but he stopped and did as the older boy had commanded. He didn't really have a choice. The boy was older than him and three classes his senior. He had to. "Yup, just as ugly."

He felt the foot behind his before he saw the boy move and even though he knew what was going to happen he was powerless to prevent it. The older boy pushed both his shoulders back effectively hitting him in the process and knocking him backward. As he stepped back to keep his balance the foot behind his feet tripped him and he fell flat on his back to the cold, wet and muddy ground. A chorus of laughter erupted from the bullies that had circled him. His face was splashed with mud as the boys all stomped and kicked the soggy ground around him. "Nobody likes you, Firehead. You may as well go back to the nine where you came from, demon spawn." At least the ground was soft. He resigned himself to his fate. He was the only red-headed boy in all of the city, likely the whole kingdom. He lay in the cold wet mud, rejected by his peers.

The truth was he did not know his father. His mother told him he died at sea before he was born. All the kids said his father ran off with a yak when he saw the fire in his only child's hair. "Demon Kissed," they called it. He rather liked his hair; he didn't see anything wrong with it. "There's nothing wrong with having red hair." He mumbled out loud as he sat up.

"No, there isn't. Are you okay? What happened? Why are you laying in the mud?" Was the owner of that voice joking? Was he serious or was he just stupid?