**Please keep in mind, this story will contain graphic depictions of mature themes, most notably depictions of prejudice and death. Reader discretion is advised.**
[3790 words]
~Dream, farm worker of Orlan~
Five communities populated the Kingdom of Flor, but they did not contain equal portions of the population. Half of the Florean Kingdom's residents dwelled in Orlan, where a Tejan landlord supervised and collected property taxes from each neighborhood. My neighborhood's landlord, Sir Ernling, was also the father of my childhood friend Sapnap.
In the lush, quiet hills at the base of the Yukay Mountains, Teja exclusively housed nobles, politicians, and other political allies of the royal family. The prestigious community's geography and close relationship to kingdom law enforcement prevented surprise influxes of residents of other communities. As I hiked through Teja, I glanced behind myself occasionally for signs of followers, but I walked the lamp-lit streets alone.
Although the night air kept me from overheating, my breathing became labored as memory guided me along cobblestone streets past roped-off parks, empty carriages, sculpted hedges, and white-painted two-story wooden homes. Resisting the urge to sniff at the community's gaudy displays of material wealth, I adhered to the darkness away from lamp-lit pathways. My water canteen dangled from one numb hand, empty. My other hand's clutch on its stone knife had relaxed, but did not release the weapon.
Panting breaths, insect chirps, and rustling leaves filled the nighttime air as my journey neared its end. On foot, taking the long route from Orlan to Teja proved less risky than accompanying the panicked Orlanian civilians who permeated the business and market communities of Mingham and Hassee.
Within hours of losing their agriculture, I imagined the decisions my Orlanian neighbors might have made. Did some enter the kingdom's central Hassean marketplace in search of food to purchase? In response, shopkeepers would have raised their prices to profit off the buyers' panic. Other Orlanian residents at home must have gathered their belongings to search for new lands outside the Florean Kingdom. Another portion of Orlan's population may have hunkered down, woozy with disbelief as they faced the destruction of their livelihoods outside. Finally, other Orlanians like me travelled to other communities in search of food and financial assistance. Most pleas for help from the Mingham community would lead to rejection, for its merchants, traders, and businesspeople would have boarded their windows and doors in anticipation of the crowds' arrival.
Sighing heavily as I continued through winding Tejan streets, I fought the guilt consuming me. I wished my pursuit for assistance from Sapanp could benefit more people than my family alone. From a young age, I received comments remarking I was "capable" for an Orlanian, but my capability was essential. Years ago, my father disappeared without a trace; in his absence, the responsibilities of paying taxes and tending to the farm split between my mother and me. With an ominous shiver, I reminded myself I now did the same thing my father did before his vanishing: traveling away from home in search of help.
My family required money for food, taxes, and education for my younger sister Sandy. Sapnap would gladly donate money to support his childhood friend, but while a donation would be beneficial now, the possibility of famine meant long-term issues which a single donation would not solve. Instead, I planned to request a job opportunity. Employment would provide steady income, and the noble status of Sapnap's family would allow access to a larger pool of opportunities than I could enter without a recommendation.
A hill loomed on the horizon, where two oil lamps betrayed the single, massive house perched upon it: the Ernling residence. Situated between two fully-grown willow trees against a backdrop of wild spruce forest, the esteemed house occupied a sizable plot of land overlooking the valley below. Although darkness cloaked most of the house beyond the reach of the flickering oil lamps on both sides of the front door, an image of the building displayed in my mind: three stories, a cobblestone archway, a shed for the servants' quarters, and an air of regality rivaling the royal castle. If I had not visited this location many times in my youth, I would have trembled with intimidation at its monstrous presence.
Approaching the house's front door, my eyes fixed upon the narrow brick pathway snaking from the road to the front porch. Carefully I scanned each step for booby traps, a common defense mechanism for Tejan houses. Only when I looked closely at the waving grasses could I discern the hidden outlines of patiently waiting metal jaws: bear traps, intended to catch human trespassers.
Skirting the final bear trap laying in wait at the base of the front porch's steps, I climbed to reach the door. Initially I hesitated, worrying about my appearance. Like most Orlanian families, mine could not afford clothes; instead, talented residents of our community sewed outfits from rags. However, glancing down at my rags would impede my confidence in the possibility of negotiation. Ironically, financial help was most attainable when one dressed in clothing which implied they did not need any financial help whatsoever.
Lifting a fist, I knocked on the polished spruce door in a codified series of sharp raps, two heavy knocks midway up the door, then a vertical strip of five lighter knocks traveling upwards. Visually, the locations I knocked upon the wood formed the vague shape of human male reproductive anatomy. After the knocks, I called my childhood friend's name, "Sapnap! It's Dream!"
First, I heard nothing. Then, from inside the house, rapid footsteps thumped in my direction. Hooking my stone knife and water canteen into my twine belt, I felt my heart thrum with nervous excitement to witness my best friend for the first time in months.
Near the front door, dull orange light spilled from the glass window as someone parted a lacy white curtain to peek out. I met the person's gaze; their shaded eyes widened and thick eyebrows lifted with surprise. Immediately they unlocked the front door from the inside, then pulled it open.
"Dream, you're okay!" Slightly shorter than me but no less physically powerful, my childhood friend Sapnap launched himself toward me. We embraced. I clutched his shoulder blades, burying my face into his neatly brushed hair as he rested his chin upon my shoulder. I tried to ignore how gingerly he held me because of the scratchiness of my rags, but the admiration in his sparkling blue eyes did not falter when he receded from the hug. My friend rambled in a low voice, "I saw weird clouds in the valley for hours! What were they?"
"Locusts," I sighed heavily. "They ate our neighborhood's barley crops. They ate everything."
Sapnap swallowed, unsure of how to respond until he muttered empathetically, "I can't imagine what that must've been like." Glancing over one shoulder at the empty living area behind him, he ushered, "Here, come inside." Stepping back to allow my entry, Sapnap alerted the house, "Visitor!"
While my friend closed the front door, I cautiously shuffled into the house, purposely taking short, controlled steps and intertwining my fingers before my waist to appear less threatening when the rest of the family inevitably noticed my presence. Standing before the expansive living and dining areas, I could not suppress the astonished parting of my lips at the house's wealth.
A spacious interior reflected the house's rich exterior: decorated spruce doors, glass windows, closets upon every wall, a massive kitchen, carved wooden tables with tablecloths, high ceilings, framed oil paintings hung upon white walls, ornate bookshelves, and meticulously dusted furniture. I had never stepped foot in the kingdom's castle, so to me, this appeared the life of royalty.
"Who's visiting?" When heavy, booted footsteps and an aggressively deep voice indicated the arrival of Sapnap's father, Sir Ernling, I faced the floor with downturned eyes to express submission.
"He's with me," Sapnap explained, protectively stepping in front of me. "It's Dream. You remember him, right?"
"Your ragged little beggar friend is back?" Sapnap's father raised a disapproving eyebrow. "Pity. I thought you had grown apart."
"We don't meet much anymore, but yes, we're still friends."
"Why does he have a knife?" Eyes narrowed with suspicion, Sir Ernling gestured to where the weapon dangled from my twine belt. "He's got a hungry look to him, like those scrawny peasants pillaging the rest of the kingdom."
"For self-defense, probably. Right, Dream?"
Pursing my lips, I nodded.
Tension settled over the house. More footsteps echoed down the house's long hallway as my friend's sisters and mother hurried into the main living area to investigate the conversation.
"Hi, Dream!" Sapnap's younger sister, Liliana, recognized me.
"Good evening, Miss Ernling," I responded deferentially, keeping my gaze fixed upon the festive carpets decorating the floors.
"He's not wearing any shoes!" Sapnap's mother Lady Ernling noticed, her voice shrill with disdain. "He'll track dirt all over the house!"
"He'll be careful," Sapnap reassured sheepishly. Straightening his back, his voice was tight as he glanced at me. "Dream hasn't visited us in a year. I'm sure he had a reason for coming tonight."
"His reason had better be good," Sir Ernling growled. "Or I'll evict his family from their damn cockroach-infested house." Permitting me to speak, he demanded, "Tell us why you're here, Orlanian."
"Thank you for tolerating my presence, Sir Ernling," I began, heart pounding with veiled fear as his hostile presence approached. Sapnap slid to my side, exposing me to his father so I could defend, "I apologize for disturbing your family so late at night." Fully aware of the entire family of five watching me with mixed curiosity and caution, I explained, "Orlan has suffered a crisis: a locust swarm ate the crops we would have sold to raise money for our landlords. I humbly request your assistance with finding a new career with a salary which will allow my family to continue paying property taxes. If you help me, I promise to triple my family's monthly payments in return, for as long as it takes to regrow the barley fields."
"How long does it take?"
"Barley requires about four months to transition from seed to harvest, so my career would need to last at least that amount of time, but I would be happy to continue the job afterwards if I earn plenty of money for tripled property payments."
"I see." Rubbing his bearded chin between his thumb and forefinger, Sir Ernling considered my request. "Let's say the Ernling family agrees to arrange a position for you, and you triple your property payments. What do you plan to do with the rest of your salary?"
"I would fund my younger sister's education," I answered readily. "She is fifteen years old and the money would keep her enrolled in school."
"Education?" Sir Ernling scoffed. "What will she need school for when she's going to be a farmer like the rest of your family? No one needs to know about obscure literature or complex mathematics to grow crops."
Despite the anger surging in my belly at the insult, my voice remained level as I answered, "Literacy rates in Orlan are low compared to the kingdom's other four communities. Continuing her education would benefit her success later in life."
"Schools in Orlan are in terrible condition," Sir Ernling agreed grudgingly, but his dismissive wave indicated he had no desire to dedicate any resources to fix the aforementioned problem. "It's better if the kids drop out anyway."
"With all due respect, Sir Ernling, I disagree -"
"I tire of your presence, Orlanian," the man cut me off. Suppressing an annoyed huff, I fell silent as he commanded, "Sapnap, take your beggar friend outside while I consider his egregious request for a job."
"Yes, Father." Sapnap, who stood awkwardly by my side during the entire exchange, nudged my arm. Shadowed with concern, he murmured, "Let's talk outside, Dream."
Nodding, I followed my best friend. Although my words had been confident, my case strong, I could not avoid the pervasive thoughts accusing me of failure.
Sapnap closed the front door behind us as we exited the house onto the front porch. Muffled conversation emanated from inside the house as family members discussed my presence and request. They would say no, I realized, leaving my family unable to afford our property payments. We would face eviction, desolation, starvation. Involuntarily I quaked.
Sapnap noticed my distress, and placed a steadying hand upon my shoulder as we leaned upon the porch railing, overlooking the darkened hills and valley below. Crisp night air, although fresh, did nothing to calm me.
"Sapnap, you've offered me favors many times, and I usually refuse." I admitted reluctantly, "But I'm asking you for one now."
"Dream, you know I'm happy to help," Sapnap agreed. "But it would be way easier for my family to just give you money and send you on your way."
"I appreciate that, but money won't last. I need a steady source of income, and I didn't know anyone else to ask."
Sapnap admitted, "A job request wasn't what I was expecting, but it's not impossible. What career did you have in mind?"
"Honestly, I have no idea," I admitted. "All I need is a high salary, at least until my family can cultivate another barley crop in four months' time. Even if the job means I have to live away from them, I'll do it and send my salary back."
"Tripling your property taxes was a smart idea," Sapnap complimented. He asked pensively, "You realize the highest-paying jobs right now, without requiring much prior employment experience, are castle staff memberships?"
"Makes sense," I hummed my acknowledgment. "I could see myself working in the castle."
"My parents are close to the king and queen. They're political allies. If anyone could help you find employment at the castle, you found them." Crossing his arms over his chest as he scanned the dark landscape beyond the Ernling property, Sapnap considered, "You know, Dream... you might make a good guard."
"A guard?" I blinked. I had anticipated my friend to suggest gardening or food preparation, not a security position. However, I was in no position to barter or question his judgment. "Are there any open spots?"
"Yes, actually," Sapnap grinned. "Listen, I'll talk with my parents and see what I can do. I know how much you need this." The amiable smile left my friend's face as he mentioned the stubborn man, "You might want to stay outside, on the lawn, in case my father gets mad."
"No problem." Nodding with compliance, I receded from the front door, descending the wooden porch steps as Sapnap returned inside. Carefully stepping over the set bear traps, my bare feet returned to the property's long, soft grass.
Seating myself in the vegetation, I tucked my knees into my chest to wait. In the thirty minutes following my friend's promise to convince his parents to help me, I heard more muffled conversation. Despite my gratitude for Sapnap's willingness to advocate for me, my belly churned with uncertainty. Once the exhaustion from my journey began to drain my attention, the front door opened. Sir Ernling stepped onto the wooden porch; we exchanged wary eye contact. The man appeared almost frightened of me; whatever I expected him to say, his next words were not it:
"Distance yourself from my girls, you hear?" Wedging one booted foot in the doorway while leaning his weight onto the other upon the porch, the man's face twisted into a menacing scowl as he pointed a threatening finger in my direction. "Those ladies are my property, not yours."
Surprised, I held up both hands. Presenting my palms, I shook my head in an expression of innocence. A pang of sympathy hit me when, past the foreboding man, his adult daughters cast their gazes downwards in profound mortification. Finally, Sir Ernling purposefully rechecked the set bear traps lining the front porch before scurrying inside and locking the door.
Neither of Sapnap's sisters accepted me as their brother did, but they tolerated me: good enough for my mission. Dressed only in sewn-together rags, with plenty of freckled skin exposed along my arms, legs, and neck, I shivered in the dim light, preparing myself for a cold night's sleep beneath deep navy skies and twinkling stars.
Heaving a sigh to calm my frayed nerves, I lowered my hunched figure. As a gentle evening breeze rustled my clothing, ruffled my fluffy hair, and sent shivers up my spine, my figure flattened against the cool grass. Grass stems pricked my skin; fingers running through the lawn sensed tiny bite marks from where locusts chewed through tough plant fibers. On my back, I inhaled the musky scents of the earth below. A half moon glistened above, silently mourning the absence of its other half. I wondered what secrets lay on the lunar entity's dark side.
A short time passed before a quiet snapping sound echoed in my ears. My attention perked, searching the area for danger; wild dogs, deer, and pigs were not uncommon in the detached suburban neighborhoods of Teja, especially in the spruce forest behind the Ernling residence. However, a flicker of movement in my peripheral vision revealed the snapping did not come from an animal crunching through leaves, but rather from human fingers. Dangling from an open window, nearly invisible in the darkness, a female hand extended from the tiny, elevated window of a restroom.
Quietly, I lifted myself from the ground, eyes fixed on the hand as it slunk back into the window, before returning clutching a thin cloth blanket. Carefully skirting the barely visible bear traps hidden in the grass, I extended a hand to gently pluck the blanket from the woman's hand with a hushed, "Thank you."
Instead of responding verbally, the hand slunk back into the window, before returning a third time to press a tightly wrapped cloth napkin into my waiting hand. I recognized the woman's hand as belonging to Sapnap's older sister Alma. She could not speak given the risk of eavesdropping, but she concluded the gift-giving with a final snap of her fingers before silently closing the elevated restroom window once more.
Receding from the range of the bear traps again, I returned to the round spot of crushed grass which marked where I lay. Wrapping myself in the blanket, I layered the bulk around my head, neck, and shoulders. My feet would be numb tonight, but I would not suffer from hypothermia. Gingerly I unwrapped the cloth napkin, revealing a half-eaten turkey leg and discarded apple peels: leftovers from the family's dinner. Although another mouth had touched the food before me, I consumed the entire contents of the napkin, save for bones, before tossing the cloth into the bushes across from the house.
Frigid and dreading the future, my mind raced nearly too fast for sleep to overcome it. However, physical exhaustion and mental turmoil gradually weakened me. Limpening, I allowed my eyelids to flutter closed as I succumbed to sleep.
At dawn, after refilling my water canteen from the property's well, I received welcome news: during my rest upon the grassy slope of the hill behind Sapnap's house, Sir Ernling sent the family's messenger to the royal castle, with a letter recommending me for a castle guard position. Gripping my wrists as he bounced with excitement and gleaming eyes, Sapnap assured the career was one of an Heir Guard.
"An Heir Guard?" I frowned. Wracking my brain for information on the castle's guardian hierarchy did not produce any prior knowledge of the position. "What is that?"
"It's awesome, that's what it is!"
"I thought for sure your dad would say no!" I could barely believe the man's apparent change of heart. "How did you convince him?"
Sapnap hesitated, as if he intended to keep his methods secret. Saving him from answering, Sapnap's sisters Alma and Liliana dashed out the back door in classy white lace dresses.
"Father says you must wear a suit, Sapnap!" Alma huffed, gesturing to her brother's night clothes and sandals. "We're heading to the castle!"
"Already?" I croaked. They did not mean I would start the career today, did they? I was completely unprepared! Self-consciously, I spread my arms to peer down at my outfit, which was in a state of total disarray from sleeping in the yard.
"Oh, no, it's not for that!" Sapnap's younger sister Liliana explained with faint amusement. "After the locust swarm yesterday, the royal family sent an announcement across the kingdom: they're giving an impromptu speech on the castle balcony to address the kingdom subjects in person."
"To clarify," Sapnap added. "The royal family won't meet you personally yet. My father only sent the messenger a few hours ago. We still have to buy your outfit and armor."
Initially, I breathed a sigh of relief, then tensed again as the three siblings turned in unity to dash back to the house. Sensing my uncertainty of whether they expected my accompaniment, Sapnap called over his shoulder, "Wait here. I'll change into some manly clothes and then we'll go together!"
"Okay!" Surely Sapnap's parents would not allow their son to donate a suit to me, no matter if the fancy clothes could receive a washing afterwards. The dirt I carried as an Orlanian was not literal, but rather symbolic. Instead, I resigned to wait, turning to observe the kingdom's spanning territory as a distraction.
Beneath the sun, gradually rising beyond the snowy Yukay Mountains lining the horizon, the entire valley was visible. In the bustling center of the Kingdom of Flor lay the clustered Lunden, Hassee, and Mingham communities. Along the kingdom's outskirts stood Teja, whose hilly altitude sheltered its wealthy population from the commoners they irrationally feared and despised. Weaving through communities, glistening in the sunlight, was the Yuessay River, feeding the kingdom's wildlife. Drawing a deep inhale, I allowed my gaze to drift further, heart blooming with pride as I watched golden sunlight bathe the faraway lands of Orlan, glowing among agricultural fields.
Footsteps and the opening of a front door distracted my ears; looking backwards, I straightened as the Ernling family's five members tidied their suits and dresses. Each member easily skirted the bear traps lining the brick path off their property. Except for Sapnap, who elected to walk beside me into town, the rest of the Ernling family climbed aboard their family's carriage. As their horse-drawn vehicle departed onto the cobblestone road, Sir Ernling waved out the open window to his service staff, who silently promised to guard the premises until the family's return.
Sapnap practically bounced with excitement at our upcoming trip to the castle. Broad smiles lit our faces as childhood friends fell into step together, trailing the carriage's path into town. Marvelling at the distant castle in our sights, we prepared to witness the royal family's speech.