The dusty, and busy streets of Kilon, the capital city of Oryn, stretched before me, a contrast to the promises of wealth and opportunity.
I was born into the collapsing Kingdom of Pelonia that had been destroyed by a bloody civil war. My family's move to Oryn was fueled by the loss of my father and the desperate hope of a better life, yet that dream continues to remain a distant reality.
As I trudged through the narrow walls of our cramped two-bedroom flat, the weight of responsibility felt especially heavy. With my father's passing, I became the man of the house, working hard everyday to provide for my younger sister, Eliana and my mother.
Everyday is a battle, with juggling multiple jobs to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads, as my mother's job at a factory is not able to do that.
"Eliana?" I called into our dimly lit house, the lack of candles has been becoming more of an issue as it gets darker earlier now. I placed the small amount of mail I collected from the post office on a chair.
Eliana appeared from the dining room, and a smile formed on her face. She quickly rushed over to where I placed the mail and started sifting through what little we had.
"Any news?" I asked, watching her hopeful expression.
Her fingers skipped across the papers until they found a worn magazine, its glossy pages offering an escape into the world of the Royal Family. Eliana has always been fascinated by the monarchy, particularly Princess Odette, the future queen. Her fascination has always been slightly humorous for me but also concerning, as I knew I would never be able to give her a life like that.
As Eliana continued to read through the pages, lost in the world of the Royal Family, my thoughts drifted towards the people who ruled over Oryn. Though I wish no ill will towards the family, their extravagant displays of wealth served as a constant reminder of the wealth gap between classes.
I dug through what little mail we had, and found a small, pristine envelope from the mail pile, its perfection practically shining through our musty flat. The Royal Family crest was printing on the front, telling me it is from the castle itself. With slightly shaky hands, I carefully tore it open to not ruin its perfectness and also not make Eliana worried.
"Dear Louis Hillock," the letter began, "The Oryn Royal Army is accepting draft applications for our military." My heart quickened at the thought of this as it could be the way to lift my family from hardships.
Taking a deep breath, I read the requirements laid out to me. "You must be at least 18 years old and have at least 1 year of sword fighting or archery experience. "Perfect, I thought to myself. I just turned 18, about 4 months ago and before my father passed, while we still lived in Pelonia, he had taught me how to sword fight.
I quickly reached for a pen from a cluttered drawer and began to fill out the application, it felt as if I was committing to finally give my mother and sister the life they deserve.