The Rangers Descendant Book One: Destiny [COMPLETED]

1.2

 As time passed and I helped Grandpa more and more, we started to go to town every week or so. On this particular day, we were going to town on Sunday. The prince was coming through later this evening so as a result of a good day's work, this way Grandpa's way of thanking me for helping him as I do.

We arrived at the tavern, the One Way Bar, just before sunrise. The bartender at the time was Michael Rowe, an old friend of Grandpas.

"Hey, Rowe, how are you?" Grandpa yelled out, trying to get his attention as he chose his barstool. For years, Grandpa always sat up by the counter, Two seats from the end of the bar. He said the reason was because if someone was wanting to talk to you, it was possible to speak without everyone knowing your business. But if you know Grandpa, he was a very loud, bellowing man when he was with friends. Only when it came to his farm or family, and something happening with those two did he ever speak slowly and quietly... that was the only time he would be truly serious.

"Hey, Rookie, how are you?" Rowe smiled at him, coming over to place a glass and pour Blue Rose whiskey. Grandpa, when he was but a kid, had joined the army, eventually meeting Rowe who was his commanding officer for a time, before they eventually fought together.

"I see you brought the kid again. You helping your grandpa enough?" He teased me.

"Yes, today I helped him remove weeds, clean the shed... "I listed five to ten different activities before he stopped me eventually.

"Ok, Ok," he laughed "You earned your keep today." He said winking, pouring me some root beer.

Rowe especially makes his root beer, and since I was five, I have been drinking it every time I came with Grandpa.

As time passed, the talking slowly went from joking with me to talking to Grandpa about how the farm was, and if he heard from 'them' recently (I asked once and they became quiet back then, thus I knew it must have been a taboo and left it alone)

"No, not recently... last time..." he continued talking, eventually boring me into looking around.

From outside, it seemed as if this was but a tiny place, in one of the better parts of town. However, walking in, you would realize just how wrong you were. Be it from the steps which led downward slightly, to the area carved into the ground, making a much larger area. From around twenty to thirty tables, twenty-two barstool seats, and a large kitchen area, the place was almost always lively and was where everyone in town who was a someone usually met at. Each table had two bottles, a small menu, and some napkins on it(crude cloth, of course, since better quality is too expensive even for him.) Currently, only around a third or perhaps a fourth of the bar was full, none more, however. One man inside the bar though, in particular, caught my eye. No outstanding features other than the fact that he was a drunk, middle-aged man wearing darker clothing. He had brown hair and red eyes. To many this may seem outstanding, however around here, we see many different people from many different places.

"Hey bud, what can I get you?" Rowe yelled out to him

"Just some Red Ray Wine if you have any" Rowe looked at him funny, walked to the back, and came out with a very deep, dark red wine. Pouring the glass, and speaking some words of courtesy, Rowe walked back. After the order, the bar became oddly quiet.

"The seventh prince is about to come through with the girl he's courting." He said quietly, but with no one talking except in short bursts, everyone heard him loud as day.