IMPERMANENCE

six years ago

Dagger

One day after Dagger's fifteenth birthday, he was sent to war.

The following morning, before the generals came to collect recruits, he was awake even before he heard his brother's trembling voice. He'd been awake all night long.

"Keep your eyes closed, Dagger."

The command from his brother was stern and left him unable to protest. Dagger obeyed and kept his eyes scrunched closed. The cold hit him hard as his surroundings barely began to register.

"Please, don't take him! He's only just come of age. We will give you anything—" A pleading voice swarmed into the bedroom. Viola's voice.

The cold air he had awoken to shifted into comforting, familiar warmth as he felt his brother's body hover closer to his own. His brother's body could only save him from so much.

There was a loud smacking sound followed by a small yelp— Viola.

It caused him to impulsively jump out of bed, shoving his brother out of the way in the process. Before he could take any further steps out of the bedroom, his brother took hold of Dagger's entire body with one arm while the other slammed over his mouth. His face stung from his brother's slap, and his eyes were practically bulging out of his head, aching to get a word out. A swarm of panic soared through him as he fully understood what was happening.

"Let me go!" Dagger mumbled beneath the palm of Ronan's hand.

"Quiet," Ronan snapped. "Don't you remember what I told you about soldiers who act out of line? Do you know what they'll do to you if you so much as breathe incorrectly?"

Today was the day of the draft.

All men ages fifteen and beyond were to fulfill their legal duties to the Crown and serve in the army when called for. As Dagger lay awake restlessly the night prior, the thin walls around his small cabin allowed him to hear everything occurring outside. The nobles and their children had escaped the village in the early hours of the morning to avoid the draft. The Generals would hardly notice the missing numbers of men, it was unlikely if they cared. They were adamant about collecting those who couldn't afford to pack up and leave the village, Dagger and his family being one of them.

His older brother, by five years, Ronan, had already served in the army previously. He had fought in a lower scale conflict. He was documented, the generals knew of him. There was no chance of him being able to escape.

Dagger had just turned fifteen yesterday. There was no escaping for him, either.

Lesser villagers had two options: join the army, or flee. Those who couldn't flee either accepted their fate or died by dishonor in protest of the draft.

Dagger didn't want his caretaker, Viola, to pay that price.

If his brother had served and survived, then he could too. There was no point in attempting to latch onto false hope. Dagger took his panicked thoughts and filed them into the depths of his mind, and broke free of his brother's grasp. He stumbled out into a run before his brother could attempt to grab him again.

"Dagger!" he heard Ronan hiss from behind him in warning.

When he entered the small living space of the cabin, he found his caretaker barely conscious on the rough floors. Her body stirred as she attempted to hoist herself up. Blood oozed from her nostrils. In front of her stood two generals from the Empire of Gunther. Their attention turned to Dagger immediately, eyeing him up and down, and twice again after that. Their expressions were blank with coldness in their dark eyes. Their builds were far bigger than that of his brother. They were relentless warriors. He hadn't expected any lesser ranked men to retrieve the enlisted.

These men evoked fear, and when you weren't afraid, you were punished. They come around every few years to collect new members, or whenever the Emperor of Gunther decides to invade newer territories. It's how the kingdom had survived. Constantly expanding with no remorse. Their kingdom colors; the deepest of blacks and a muted green reflected those ideals. The Emperor was becoming impulsive and had no plans of slowing down. Once one territory was sacked and rebuilt, he began enlisting more and more men in preparation for the next. To the Emperor, to these generals standing in his home, Dagger and his brother were seen as numbers. Necessary, but not needed. Useful, but not important. Easily replaceable, but not easy enough if they attempted to defect.

His brother stumbled behind him, assessing the situation as fast as he could. Any signs of resistance or fear would result in at least twenty lacerations for them both, Ronan still had his scars from years before. They were lucky these generals were kind enough to give their caregiver only a broken nose. He could feel Ronan's burning stare behind him instructing him to leave his caretaker be, or they would all end up with lacerations.

With the way these generals looked into his eyes, Dagger didn't think their behavior mattered. They'd give him twenty lacerations just because they could. Ronan stiffened his stance and pulled himself together. Dagger kept his chin up, forcing himself to not glance down at his caretaker. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a streak of red dripping from her nose as she looked up to Ronan and Dagger.

Show no weakness, his brother had warned him.

Besides that, they had never fully discussed a plan for when the generals would inevitably come and take them. Survival was most important, there wasn't time to plan or worry. The Emperor would never send word prior to a draft, especially not in a village as small as Dagger's.

Thus, when the generals came, you had no choice but to surrender yourself.

Ronan made it out alive, Ronan made it out alive, he had to keep telling himself.

The concept of life in the forgotten villages of Gunther was anything but promising. He found no enjoyment in struggling every day to survive. There was nothing to work or strive for. If you lived in the provincial Guntheran villages, the odds of you rising your way out of them were slim.

What he wanted was for his caretaker, Viola, to be alright. She was getting older now, too old to perform the hard labor that put food on their table every single night. She had sacrificed so much for Dagger and his brother. Leaving her with nothing when she had given them everything and more was what Dagger feared most.

There was no time to gather personal belongings, he held none of sentimental value anyway. The army would supply you with everything that you needed. Above all else, the constant invasion of nearby lands and the expansion of the Guntheran kingdom kept the army wealthy. The meals Dagger would be eating while deployed would be better than what he ate here in the village.

The generals growing agitated with every wasted minute spent in the village continued rounding up the remaining eligible men. Dagger's stomach began to settle down, though he couldn't handle looking back towards the cabin. He shut out Viola's quiet sobs as she watched him and his brother get led away. Saying good-bye was not something he could handle when he couldn't guarantee his return. His brother lightly brushed his back, silently guiding and comforting him.

Dagger would have preferred to have gone alone.

That way he knew Viola would be cared for in the event that he didn't return. The odds of Dagger surviving were hard to calculate. They were given no information on what exactly they had been drafted for. Some battles lasted days, weeks. Some didn't require any fighting at all, Ronan had told him. Only the presence of Gunther's army could leave weak nations surrendering.

Until then, he'd have his brother train him. He'd build muscle and learn strategy. He'd always been told he was a fast runner, maybe now he could finally put it to use. He'd climb the army ranks, hopefully giving them both a slightly higher chance of survival. Somehow, they would both emerge victoriously. He tried not to remain too optimistic for the sake of his young heart.