Hermetic ♕ harry styles au

one | helpful

Eden

It has been five days since I had last seen my father. He went out to fight in the war, in only one battle, and he never came back.

My mother and I worried for his safety. There were three reasonable assumptions to why he was not back yet. Either (a. He was killed in combat (b. My father was captured by the enemy, or (c. He was injured and was currently at the military's infirmary many miles from here. We were all hoping for the ladder.

Although, my brother, Jasper, had a different view on the situation. My brother believed that my father was taking his sweet time in getting home. He was neither injured nor taken, but instead, stalling. We all knew that if a warrior were not to return, the family would get a fighter's paycheck until he returned or was pronounced dead. Although it was possible, it was highly unlikely that my father would leave my mother so on edge for so long.

My mother was not too distraught, however. She busied herself with her job. She worked as a doctor in the next city over, and helped those who were caught in the crosshairs of the war. My mother was very skilled at removing shrapnel from the skin, and patching them up so well, that it seemed like there never was an injury in the first place.

Currently, Jasper and I were helping our mother pack first aid kits that we were going to deliver to at risk communities, which were positioned closely to the battlegrounds. They were the ones who were most likely to attacked by a wayward enemy soldier. Our family was willing to help the people that the government did not bother to protect.

In total, we made forty kits. We would be giving two to each household so that we did not have to return for at least another three and a half months. We wanted to cover enough ground, without having to back track so often. It would cause our supplies, which were difficult to come by, deplete quickly, and we could not afford for that to happen--both finically as well as morally.

It was a long walk to our destination. We never used any vehicles to get there because they would either be stolen, or damaged by warfare. The safest possible thing for the three of us to do was walk, not matter how long it took us. Jasper was always a complainer, claiming that his legs ached, and that his chest was burning from the excessive exercise. My mother and I easily ignored his whining, and continued to move faster.

"Stop going so fast, please," Jasper panted as he took a momentary pause to catch his breath. My mother and I just shook our heads. "Eden!"

"Enough with your grousing," I scolded my older brother. "Think of the less fortunate."

Jasper continued with his annoying protest. "How can I help them if I keel over dead?"

"Sometimes, I cannot believe that you are the oldest," I snorted to myself. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jasper glare at me.

"Trust me, I wish you were the older sibling," he confessed, causing our mother's eyebrows to raise. "Being the big, bad protector is exhausting sometimes."

I scuffed almost inaudibly. "Who said you were the 'big, bad protector'?"

"I did, considering that I'm carrying more kits than you."

Sometimes, my brother made me laugh. He thought that just because he was now the man of the house, he was our saving grace. Jasper was too consumed in preserving his masculinity, and believed that he was the only one who could protect the three of us. Well, he was sadly mistaken, considering that I was trained in mixed martial arts (thanks to my mother, of course). Being able to protect yourself, was the one thing that my mother stressed throughout Jasper's and my childhood.