Chapter 1: A Piece of Home

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     The sound of the steel breaking ground echoed across the field as a man worked a small plot of land. Siegfried Bähr, a young man of fifteen years with a head of thick, messy black hair dripping with sweat, and piercing deep blue eyes. His tanned skin proof of his work under the twin suns high in the sky, day in and day out. With a hoe in hand, he tore at the ground, readying it for seeding, a ritual he had played out for nine years. Despite the existence of faster, more convenient modern equipment, he had long since learned not to complain about the lack of said equipment to help him in the fieldwork; the old Boss, asleep in his rocking chair under the shade of an old tree at the edge of the field, had seen to that. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but let a slight smirk creep onto his face as he saw the Boss sleeping peacefully under the tree, his pipe somehow still smoking and in his mouth. With a few final blows, Siegfried finished his work tilling the field; the field wasn't too large, only able to sustain two or three families at most. But since only the Boss and Siegfried needed to live off of it, they could make a nice profit from its excess. Siegfried threw the hoe over his shoulder with a satisfied sigh and wiped the sweat from his brow. Quickly, he strode over to a small tool shed at the opposite end of the field from the Boss and placed the hoe in its proper place within. As he exited the shed, he stretched to the sky, looking to the suns for the time. He stood still for a moment, letting a gentle breeze wash over and cool him, before he took in his surroundings, readying himself for his next task for the day.

As he walked around the freshly tilled field, he looked down from the hill he called home. At the edge of the untamed forest, a cosy cottage, a bit of farmland, and a toolshed sat atop a small hill. From the cottage, there was a short, winding trail down to town. Once he reached the tree the Boss slept under, he peered down to the small town he called home. Lying before him was the small town of Burkhart, a quiet home on one of the main imperial highways in the kingdom of An-ox and a half-day drive to the capital of Alyd. It was a peaceful town with no more than twelve dozen families, an inn, tavern, smithy, and a few speciality shops. The town was mainly used as a trading and rest stop to and from the capital. Before Siegfried could get too comfortable, the bell tower on the town hall chimed out eleven times, jerking Boss awake. A quiet groan escaped Siegfried's mouth; his quiet morning was now ruined. Despite this, a new smirk did creep onto his face once again.

"Huh? Wazzat? Da ya wont sum?!" Still groggy from his nap, the old Boss shot up from his chair with fists at the ready, which shocked Siegfried a tad. After a second to gain his bearings, he looked to Siegfried, who was stifling his laughter from the Boss' outburst. "Curse da gods fer making us age. I'll tell ya boy; gettin' old sucks." A few puffs from his pipe followed as he stretched and began to get up. Standing was difficult for Boss, but he freed himself from the chair once Siegfried handed him his walking staff. Before Siegfried stood the grey and wizened old man, with life and passion within his calm, grey eyes. The Boss stroked his beard that reached his waist as he looked between Siegfried, the field, and the town. "'Ow lon' was I out? I didn' quite 'ear all da chimes of da bell."

"Only two hours or so; that was the bell for eleven. Have a nice nap, ya old coot." A mischievous grin grew across Siegfried's face as a slightly red-faced Boss hobbled up to the young man. "Now, now; don't get too worked up. Wouldn't want to agitate your left leg, now." Siegfried chuckled as Boss seemed to get redder as he reached him.

The hunched-over man looked up to the much younger man, and to the younger's feigned shock, the red drained back to a healthy glow for the old Boss as a smile appeared beneath his long beard. "Dat all ya got? I' gotten more bite from ticks in da forest den from your tongue, boy." The pair chuckled softly together for a moment before the Boss continued. "Ya got a lot ta learn if ya really wanna give someun a real good tongue lashin'."

With a deep, over-exaggerated bow, the young man snickered, "Of course master; truly, none could rival you in the art of the insult." Standing straight again with a bright grin, Siegfried turned to the side to let the Boss pass and then quickly followed behind him. "In all honesty, though; have a nice nap? I finished tilling the field while you were out."

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