Aer Born - First Draft

2: To Lort

Very few paid any notice to the two Turkfel boys as they left their home. Only the Tambani, Rache, worried about them as they headed out. She hoped they would grow up, and one day visit to tell her they were well, but she also knew that it was a harsh world -- and she wondered how long they would survive on their own.

#

Winter had felt like it would last forever to Hector, and even celebrating his eighth birthday didn't break the monotony. He and Aron never went back to their shack, instead staying at the midwife's home throughout the long months. Aron didn't appear to care much for leaving his home and spent most of his time in front of the fire. While Hector worried about how long it would take to reach Lort, the younger brother would occasionally shout for his attention. Aron kept saying the fire went blue, but Hector hadn't seen it and so didn't believe him. He was tempted to tell Aron to stop lying, but didn't want to sound mean. Besides, if Hector couldn't find something to be excited about, there was no reason to stop Aron from doing so.

As spring arrived, Hector wanted to visit the shack. He wanted to get his slim rod, so he could break into the Craftsman's home, but also to see Marie. He'd always imagined dead people to look like the old ladies in the village, but Marie hadn't looked anything like them. Marie had looked just like she always did, if blue. He realised that maybe she'd been dead a long time, and was just going through the motions when she left their home. It didn't make him feel any better.

Though Hector had managed to convince Rache to let him and Aron stay and extra two weeks, hoping to get into the Craftsman's home for some leather. He wanted to stay even longer, but when a merchant from Hestfort arrived, so did the time for them to leave.

"Please, Rache," Hector begged, as the midwife packed food into a satchel. "At least to the end of the month."

Rache paused from her task and straightened to look down at the boy. "Cannot. Money is sparse, food little. You both need go."

"I can hunt!"

"From farmer?" Rache barked a laugh. "No. Lort new home."

Hector roughly rubbed his eyes. He didn't want Aron to see him crying; he had to be tough, now. He had to be strong and protect his little brother. Rache sighed and reached to pull Hector into a hug. She rubbed his back as he sniffled, and his tears dampened her smock.

"You be all right. You strong -- you both strong. Aron will help you."

Hector coughed, surprised that she would say something so silly. "Aron? He's not yet three."

Rache pulled back and stared at him intently. Her gaze made Hector uncomfortable, but he didn't dare turn from her pale eyes. There had been a few times when the large Tambani had looked at him like so. Each time she'd spoken with utmost seriousness. Hector stayed quiet as he waited for her to speak.

"Aron strong -- stronger than you know. Give him some time, protect him, but don't be surprised if one day he protect you."

Hector smiled, his eyes still watery. "He's more likely to be the death of me, what with his love of fires."

Rache patted him on the head, before turning to continue packing the bag. "That blue fire he so loves won't hurt him."

#

Aron groaned as Hector shook him again. The younger boy pulled the blanket tighter to his body and curled into a ball. He heard Hector sigh.

"Come on, Aron," his brother said, his voice pitched but clear with irritation. "We have to leave. The merchant is waiting."

"But still morning," Aron bit back.

"Come on."

Aron yelped as Hector tore the blanket from him, and he rolled onto the prickly straw beneath. He jolted upright and glared at his brother. Hector just stared at him, his eyes pinched with amusement. Aron grumbled as he slowly stood, swiping the straw from his clothes. He stomped around Hector to look out the open door, glaring at the sun peeking above the forest. The merchant saw him and waved. Aron ducked back, hiding. He jumped as Hector clapped his back.