Song of Seven

Song 2: Memory and Emptiness

The grizzled warrior was jostled awake by his young hunting partner, Kellard. When Axel sprang up out of the bed like a striking serpent, the boy took three steps back towards the door of the modest bunkhouse quarters. Axel wiped the crust of sleep from his bloodshot eyes and focused on the leather-clad hunter who had retreated backward in shock. Axel ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, reaching for the flask he had tucked inside the straw mattress.

"You slept all morning, old man." Kellard crossed his arms, lowering his head and sighing deeply,  he felt a personal shame at the state of his partner. The disappointed Kellard set his hunting bow down against the wall and leaned into the door frame, watching Axel take sizable swallows of his flask. "...and you're hitting the flask early again." 

The old man swung his legs over the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands and rubbing haggardly at his stubble, trying to wake up enough to get a sense of the time of day. Inside, he struggled with the burdensome stone of shame pressing itself into his temples, or maybe it was the hangover. Nightmares and memories had haunted him once again during the night, and his relief was easily available from the stock of alcohol that was kept in the bunkhouse for the hunters and workers. "Why are you here?" the hungover Axel cleared his throat as he stumbled around the room to grab his hunting gear.

"Uh, to hunt? Same thing we've been doing every day for a week..." Kellard replied with confusion, raising a questioning blonde eyebrow. He took a moment to grab a ragged shirt off the dusty floor and threw it over to the bed where Axel was piling his clothes to get dressed. 

Axel shambled awkwardly around the room, hitting his knee against the bedside table in his half-inebriated state. Through gritted teeth and a groggy morning voice, he grumbled out, "No, I mean... here. In this place. Sanctuary."

Kellard huffed in disbelief, as though the question were complete gibberish. "We're doing this now? I thought we kept things... professional? You weren't talking before, and I didn't ask about you when we were out there in the woods."

Axel sighed and sat on the edge of the bed to catch his breath a moment, "Ah hell, just humor an old dog would ya? Tell your damn story."

Kellard shrugged, trying to play off as nonchalant but the reality was that he didn't want to open up about his past either. "Where else would I go? My family was old blood, here long before the Vayans came." The boy scuffed the tip of his boot against the floor like a kid caught doing something wrong and unable to stand still for his lecture.

Slicking back his hair and setting his wide hat back atop his head, Axel looked over at the boy through unfocused eyes, "That ain't a story. Lots of old-blood folk adapted to the new ways. It's been generations since those lands were... uh, civilized." The veteran pressed the boy further. His answer may have had some truth in it, but Axel knew that plenty of people lived perfectly fine lives under Vayan rule. Many thrived. The Vayan empire wasn't all bad, and most people who ran from it or tried to escape the rule of law were either deeply religious, criminals, or those with magical talents that didn't want to be watched by the Mayjarchy. 

The boy grew defensive and attempted some humor to deflect the uncomfortable question, "Maybe I'm one of those old shamans or witch doctors." His eyes scanned the room, trying to avoid Axel's gaze and looking for something that would change the subject.

"Could be. But, you ain't." Axel didn't take the bait. He wasn't letting this go.

There was a long pause, and both men knew that Kellard needed a moment to get his story out. Axel let the moment hang in the air, grabbing the rest of his gear, getting his clothes and hunting leathers sorted out and suited up. He stopped a moment at the bedside table, seeing the flask still sitting there and knowing it still had some liquor inside it. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he resolved to leave it behind. Bruth needed everyone here to work, and Axel certainly wasn't going to be in his finest hunting form if he was drunk. Stringing up his bow and slinging it over his shoulder, Axel stepped forward to stand in the doorway next to the boy and pulled his hat lower over his face.