The Testament of Lukar

Chapter Five

In the days following their acquisition by Lord Nadik, Lukar, Petro, Thomas, and Adan found themselves adjusting to a new life on the estate. The air held the crisp promise of winter, a season unfamiliar to Lukar, who had never experienced the biting cold of Anodis.

One cool day, as the leaves fell from the trees, painting the ground with hues of red and gold, Lord Nadik ordered thicker coats and wool pants for the workers. Winter was on the horizon, and the preparation for the impending cold was evident. The sky displayed a tranquil, grayish-blue hue, and the ground beneath Lukar's feet felt hard and unforgiving.

Thomas and Adan helped Lukar fasten his new coat, their fingers nimble despite the chilly air. Lukar observed the trees' bare branches and marveled at the stark beauty of the changing seasons. However, his attention was diverted when he noticed Petro engaged in conversation with a woman servant, Keelan.

Keelan's warm smile and the twirl of her hair hinted at a rare moment of joy in their challenging lives. Lukar, despite the distance, could see Petro's rare smile, a sight that stirred curiosity in the depths of his young heart.

As Lukar approached, he couldn't help but notice the subtle change in Keelan's expression—a momentary flash of pity quickly concealed by a practiced smile. Petro, catching sight of Lukar, introduced him to Keelan, who greeted him with a warm "Nice to meet you."

Lukar, a bit shy but eager to engage, responded, "You too. Petro says you're good at cutting hair."

Keelan chuckled, "Oh, he does, does he? Well, I've had my fair share of practice. If you'd like, I can give you a trim. That hair of yours looks like it has a tale to tell."

Lukar, glancing at Petro for approval, found a nod of encouragement. "Sure, miss Keelan. I'd like that," he replied with a smile.

Keelan, still smiling, added, "Call me Keelan, no need for formalities. And you, young man, can call me Petro's favorite barber."

Petro joined in the light banter, "Well, I can't argue with that. Keelan's got a talent for making even the roughest heads of hair look presentable."

Lukar, grateful for the camaraderie, nodded. "Thank you, ma— Keelan. I appreciate it."

The prospect of a haircut, combined with the warmth of the new coat, brought an unexpected sense of comfort and camaraderie amid the changing seasons.

In the crisp air of the winter day, Lukar, Petro, Thomas, and Adan made their way to the shed to retrieve their axes. The task ahead was clear – gather firewood and clear the forest for new land to be tilled in the coming spring.

Lukar, unfamiliar with the weight and balance of the axe, struggled to find his rhythm. Adan, noticing Lukar's difficulty, approached him with a friendly smile. "Here, let me show you," Adan offered, taking a moment to share a piece of his own past.

"My father was a lumberjack back home," Adan began, his eyes reflecting a mixture of nostalgia and sadness. "He taught me the ways of the forest, how to respect it, and keep it safe. We had a bond with the trees, knew which ones were ready to fall and which needed more time."

Listening intently, Lukar absorbed Adan's wisdom. As they ventured into the woods, Adan demonstrated the proper technique, explaining the nuances of the axe's swing and the angle of approach. Lukar mirrored the movements, his progress slow but steady.

As they reached a clearing, Adan encouraged Lukar to try on his own. The trees he tackled were thinner, his strikes less forceful, but with each swing, he gained confidence. The rhythmic thuds of axes against wood echoed through the forest, blending with the crisp winter breeze. Lukar, immersed in the task, felt a sense of accomplishment as each tree yielded to his efforts.