Archer

1: Whispers of Baron

I point my short dagger at the man's throat. "Now give the woman back her money."

"Y-y-yes sir," he rambles and hands a leather money pouch back to the woman with her little boy. Then he runs. The boy looks at me like I'm his hero.

"Thank you, sir," the woman thanks me gratefully. "That was very kind of you." I nod. I'd rather not call attention to myself, but I couldn't just watch them be robbed. Before I leave, the boy tugs my cape.

"Mister? Are you a knight?" I laugh and ruffle his hair.

"Nah, just a traveller passing through."

"Well, we are thankful regardless," the woman insists. "It isn't everyday you find someone who will defend a complete stranger. Personally, I think what you just did is more than the real knights ever have." I nod.

"Have a good day, ma'am." As I pass through the town of Mythril, I hear the hushed whispers:

"There are more metal orders than ever. All from Baron."

"What could they possibly need all this Mythril for? Are they going to war soon?"

"Their King has been building his military."

"Baron easily has the strongest military in the world already though."

I shake my head to myself. Don't get involved, I tell myself. It's disturbing though...

I wonder how they're all doing... A harsh laugh escapes me. They probably never even noticed I left...

I notice part of my bowstring is frayed, so I stop in the smithy's shop. "Lumen! Good to see you, boy! Why do you need?" I slide my bow over his counter.

"I need a new bowstring." He nods.

"I'll be right back." He leaves and comes back a little later. "Do you want me to put it on, or do you want to do it?"

"I can do it myself. Could I have an extra string?"

"Of course." He gives me the string, and pulls another out of a drawer. "66 Gil." I give him amount and turn to leave.

"Lumen, wait."

"What?" He passes a scroll to me. "During the last pickup of Mythril, some Baron soldiers stopped in. They said they're looking for strong young men as recruits. They said that if we send some recruits and continue our trade agreement, Mythril will be safe from any future issues. I just thought I'd tell you." I tuck away the flyer.

"I don't think I'm interested."

The Smith nods. "I thought you'd say that. If you change your mind, they'll be taking the new recruits to Baron the next time they pick up the metal. So, in a few days."

"Thanks anyways."

What could the king of Baron possibly be doing that he needs to recruit from other nations?

I toss on my cot, unable to sleep. For years, I've slept in an old hut on the edge of the village. Less chances of anyone discovering my identity that way.

In a corner, my belongings are neatly stacked should I have to run. Not that I want to. I spent years moving around until I found Mythril, my ideal place. It's quiet, safe, has nice people, and people won't ask about a random traveller who's decided to stick around.

I can't help but think about Baron though. It's where I was born. It used to be my home. Until I ran away.

I was sick of being invisible to my mother. I was always second best to my sister. It only became worse after Father died.

They're still your family.

But they don't give a damn about you.

How would you know? You left years ago.

Please, a mindset that strong will never change.

Back and forth, my mind argues with itself. I take out the paper.

Attention all strong-bodied men:
The nation of Baron asks your assistance! We need men capable of necessary skills. We need:
Swordsmen
Weaponsmiths
Black Mages
White Mages
Lookouts
Soldiers
Pilots
Engineers
Sailors
Archers
And more!
If you believe you have what it takes, join Baron's forces!

Propaganda. Still, I could go in as an Archer...

▪▪▪

"Recruits for Baron's Army here!" A man dressed in red armor shouts while other soldiers drag loads of Mythril onto the airship. Despite arguing with myself, I packed up my few belongings, and here I am now.

Most of us here are about average height or taller. It makes sense in a way. Most of the jobs in Mythril demand that the workers be small. The miners have to be able to fit down the narrow shafts. Before, I did the odd jobs here and there. Jobs like delivering goods, cleaning up after the chocobos, or assisting the butcher. I'd hunt wild game to sell every so often, but out of everything, I did the most work with the butcher. At one point, I used to be afraid of blood. I don't even flinch when I see the animals are slaughtered anymore.

The man in red armor finally gets to me in the line. "Name and age?"

I'd rehearsed my identity for the past four years. "Lumen, eighteen." He looks quizzically at me.
"Surname?" I shake my head.

"Don't have one." He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't. He moves out of the way to let me on the airship and begins the process with the next recruit.

By the time he's finished, there are nine of us the airship. There weren't many of us here to begin with, and its only natural that some would change their minds, or be rejected. The two red haired Auburn twins sit on a bench with their friend, Ashton Wheeler, the wheelwright's son. Five other men are also on the platform. I stand apart from them, by the wheel. A Red Wing soldier comes aboard and starts the engine. We're in the air.

I've never flown before. When I left Baron, I convinced a merchant to take me on as his assistant, and he took me with him to Eblan. I left him there, and stowed away to Agart. Mostly I've traveled by sea, foot, or Chocobo. With the view though, I understand how people learn to love the sky. Everything looks so small, and you feel free.

"Have you ever flown before?" The soldier asks, tearing me away from my thoughts.

"Never." He chuckles.

"I was like that on my first flight too. Isn't it amazing?" I nod. He looks at the bow over my shoulder. "An Archer, are you?"

"Yeah..."
"Good. We can never find enough archers who know what there doing. I have a feeling that you do though." When I don't respond, he asks, "so what's your name?"

"Lumen."

"Well, I'm Biggs." He points to the airship flanking ours. "My partner is the man flying that airship. That's Wedge." I nod.

Biggs goes on about life in the Red Wings, and how good their captain is. "Who is the captain?" I interrupt.

"Lord Cecil. He received his Dark Knight training from the King himself."

So Cecil really did become a Dark Knight. And he's a lord captain now as well...

"We are approaching Baron!" A soldier shouts. "Prepare for landing!" As the airship descends, I see the town outside the castle. I'm coming home.