Chapter 6: Awake

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Easley was in a beautiful state in the summer, ready for an artist to come along and paint it in vivid watercolour. It was a little farming town with a small centre, the focal point of which lay in its windmill which powered the grain processing facility and procured the day's breads. All surrounding were lush green fields and farm houses, with speckles along to indicate various flowers growing amidst it all; most frequently popping up were the yellow-headed dandelions. At this time though, they were white, puffy balls of seeds that would explode each time the wind blew by, flinging them around the air.

Grimsley was lying on his back staring up at the sky, little seeds brushing over his young face and tickling his cheeks. His blond hair was messed and his small red cap kept falling off his top and onto the ground. He pulled out the small pistol he kept by his side in its holster and examined it. He took an edge of his dirtied red jacket and cleaned off a smudge on the weapon, his gun the only thing he kept spotless. His black pants were old and stained, his jacket sullied, while his sidearm was gleaming.

He pulled his cap up over his eyes to block out the sunlight and started to drift to sleep. It was only just as darkness overtook him and his mind began to open up to dreaming that he heard the patter of leather boots running through the fields towards him.

When he heard them stop beside his head he blew his hat back with a whistle and opened a lazy eye to see his younger sister leaning over him. Her thin blonde hair dangled down around her face and was lit up by the sun above.

"What do you want Gretta?"

"Come on Grimsley, why are you sleeping out here? Aren't you supposed to be training with the militia?"

"Hawke was sick today, had a stomach ache so we were let off today." Grimsley was one of the most avid supporters of the local militia of fourteen young men. He normally trained everyday or was off patrolling the outskirts for enemy sightings. His sister did time in a local auto shop, learning to be a mechanical engineer at the young age of fifteen.

When she wasn't in the store she was at home in the barn at the edge of town where an old battle tank was stored, a relic from their deceased father who used to pilot it. Nobody around had a clue how to repair it to working order but it was suspected of being an old Goliath-killer tank built to bring down Goliaths and since there were no Goliaths ever coming near Easley nobody cared to see it restored. For the memory of their father though, Grimsley demanded it be fixed and Gretta was ready to comply.

"Then why don't you help Aunt Shauna at the farm? We can't leave her doing all that work alone all the time."

"She never wants any help. She's such a stubborn old lady. So I'm having a day off today to myself. Shoot me."

Gretta snatched the pistol from Grimsley and pointed it down at his crotch and shut an eye. "Give me a countdown and I'll do it."

Grimsley pulled his cap back over his eyes and pretended to snore. "It's not loaded."

"Umm excuse me?" It was a sheepish, soft, high-pitched voice that cut the moment between the siblings. Gretta dropped the pistol onto Grimsley's stomach and he sputtered in shock at the impact. "Oh I'm sorry, did I interrupt something?" Grimsley recognized only one thing about the voice: it was female.

He tucked the gun away and straightened his hat. He somehow flipped up onto his feet in a flash and was greeted by a girl his own age near twenty, with long, brown hair in pigtails and matching leather coat for travelling. She had on a hiker's backpack with a sleeping bag rolled up on top. Clipped to her right hip was a large tome of an ornate cover featuring woven golden silk and inlaid gemstones while on her left hand was a thin glove with the emblem of the church of Enia on it.

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