Jaalin hauled the bucket of water from the well, cold, spring water sloshing onto his feet and the soft, bright grass. He carried the bucket along the little dirt path, past fields of young wheat and delicious smelling corn. A great mastiff came bounding up from a farmer's cottage, his tail wagging and tongue hanging out of his head. The dog bounded up, nearly knocking Jaalin over, who just laughed and scratched the dog behind his ear. Jaalin continued on his way, passing under the wall that encircled the town where he lived; the trading town of Kingsford. He looked up as his leather boots plodded on the cobblestone street, he saw the King's city of Anverd, the great city and capital of Anveria, sitting on the hill some miles across the plains from the town. He sighed, that was where he was going in just two days to become a page in the King's Army, later to become a warrior, a great swordsman perhaps. Horsemen clattered past on errands for the King; merchants were setting up there stalls with colorful wares from all over the Eastern Continent and even from far away Keir; a cohort marched past, going to the Ethleden Marches no doubt; children an about in the street as men and women did business together and the elderly strode about or sat on the steps to houses. Jaalin kept walking, out of the town and to a farmhouse on the other side. It was a comfortable place with a wooden fence and a gate, a heavy oak door led into the house and a gravel path led up to it, there was an aged barn and a small yard in front of the house. The villa itself was made of good lumber and had two glass windows watching the paved road to Anverd. Jaalin's mother was by the fire, feeding the hungry flames logs from behind the house. Jaalin walked past his baby sister, who sat on the floorboards playing with wooden people. His father must be in the barn tending to the cows, chicken and pigs. His grandmother must be upstairs sewing. Jaalin thumped the bucket on the wood of the floor as he lowered it down. His mother looked up from the growing fire and smiled at him.
"Thank you, Jaalin. Once this dry spell is over you shall be able to draw water from the well down the road. Ail and Faranagan are helping Father in the barn, so I think you can rest this evening."
"Excellent! The other boys are going to practice with their swords in the town green!"
Jaalin dashed up stairs to get his practice sword. He stopped in front of the mirror hanging just inside his parent's open bedroom, it was a marriage gift from his father to his city-born mother. Jaalin saw a lean young man with tidy dark brown hair, even darker brows, blue eyes like the sky at noon, a strong nose, a pointed jaw, and wearing a fine tunic and trousers tucked into leather boots. Jaalin was pleased also with the progress of his whispery beard; he would have a full one hopefully in a year for his sixteenth birthday. Many of the girls in town seemed to hope for a proposal from him in a year too. Jaalin stepped into his room, floorboards creaking, and went past his simple bed to the shelf holding his most valued possessions: the straw blob-man his sister had made for him; the rock he was sure had sapphires in it; the arrowhead he had found in the woods, which he was convinced was Archaic Sakaedian; the knife his father had given him when he was ten, though right now it was on his hip; and his practice sword, he didn't have a real sword yet. Jaalin took it, strapped it to his belt and ran down stairs and out the door. He jogged along the stone road to the green, he could see the other boys already gathering there. He ran faster and had just reached them and was about to greet his friends when a klaxon filled the air. His heart sank, he knew what this meant. He and the boys and all the farmers walked along the road to town, meeting everyone else at the town square. Jaalin looked up at the statue of Lord Theith, founder of the fortress of Kingsford. A distant humming filled the air and after a minute Jaalin could see a number of black shapes speeding down the road to town. The humming grew louder and the shapes larger until Jaalin could make out a company of men riding those flying carts. They stopped in front of the gathered town, the company of armor-suit wearing soldiers dismounted their hover-bikes, faces hidden behind metal helmets and glowing blue eye-slits. The insignia of the United System Governance was emblazoned on the bikes. Captain James retracted his visor, the different parts sliding back into his suit, to reveal his clean shaven face. Lord Dryan Laa pushed forward through the crowd, accompanied by foot soldiers.
"What is it, Captain? As you probably already know, we are going through a drought, Durandian troops are gathering in Ethleden Pass, and we've lost several mines due to floods in our silver mines. Captain James snorted.
"Don't worry, We have our eye on Duranda."
Jaalin doubted that they really cared though.
"The Interplanetary Congress has issued a order for more recruits for the Navy. The recruits shall be from all worlds of the USG, including Ceres."
Jaalin and everyone native to this world called it Belfas, but the invaders called it Ceres. Jaalin thought it was one of their gods or something.
"The Navy Recruitment Office has compiled a list of young men from the Anverian sector of Ceres. Please step forward if your name is called." a blue image sprang up in front of his face from a light on his suit's forearm. It was a list.
He barked out names of men Jaalin knew, he stood there as he saw Suril the blacksmith, Horst, and Thene the warrior. And suddenly,
"Tal, Jaalin."
A visible wave rippled through the crowd, eyes were turned toward Jaalin. He took a stumbling step forward when his father pushed his way through the crowd.
"Wait, Captain, he just a boy, not yet sixteen! You can't expect him to be useful... up there." Aar, Jaalin's father glanced up to the sky as he said the last part.
"Mr... Aar, the USG Navy has need of able-bodied young men. It's nothing, just someone to change the plasma fission cells in a battlecruiser's engines and to sling arc-torches to repair ships. He'll be learning valuable skills and serving his nation. Besides it says here he is to become a warrior to your 'king'. Heres his chance."
So without a chance to say goodbye, Jaalin was taken by the soldiers away from everyone he had ever known; his family, his friends, his chance to be a swordsman, and the town of Kingsford. A great transport ship descended from the clouds, it's silvery metal hull gleaming the sun, the United System Governance crest visible. It hovered above the rooftops of the town square, the townsfolk watching in silent anxiety. A circular hatch opened on the bottom of the craft and an eerie blue light shot from it. Captain James motioned for the other soldiers to follow him as he walked into it, and disappeared. The faceless, black greatcoat wearing, soldiers formed a line, each guiding a victim into the blue light. Jaalin was last, as he was pushed nearer, his reluctant feet dragging on the stones. He shut his eyes as the tunnel of blue was just a foot away. He clenched his teeth expecting some horrible, strange sensation. But when he opened his eyes he was standing in a sizable metal room with metal seats lining the walls. Men from all over Anveria filled these seats; simple men wearing tunics or robes or blacksmith aprons. They were all snatched from their homes and families by the USG troops just like Jaalin. Jaalin was shoved into a seat by a soldier, who then walked past, through a metal door, which closed behind him. The men were left alone as they heard the thrum of the rockets as they flew up through the sky. Jaalin felt queasy at the thought of all that empty void beneath the thin layer of metal.
These metal-wearing strangers had come to Belfas some decades ago, appearing in the sky with their great metal boats and longships. People from across the Western Continent worshiped them as gods, but the magus at Anverd told the citizens of Anveria they were a race of men from a land in the Far North. The kingdom of Felfeiran welcomed the newcomers with their advanced technology and worshiped them. But there was a coup in Felfeiran, the new king demanded the invaders leave his kingdom. He then prepared for war when they did not. It was terrible, Jaalin had heard first hand accounts of it, a little ship flew over Felfeiran's capital with the royal army inside and cannons arrayed on it's walls. The little ship opened it's hull and a great, brilliant red column of fire shot down from the opening, destroying the city in one hit. Even after that the USG only came again, to every kingdom and empire except possibly the Three Great Powers, to tell them their world, Ceres as they called it, was now a USG world. The common folk weren't impressed. But the USG had never come and taken young men away. Jaalin wondered what was going to happen to him as he sat there in lonely misery; the ship jumping into a wormhole as it cleared the atmosphere. James voiced came from a speaker on the ceiling.
"We'll be arriving at Parvati at 0745 hours."
"Thank you, Jaalin. Once this dry spell is over you shall be able to draw water from the well down the road. Ail and Faranagan are helping Father in the barn, so I think you can rest this evening."
"Excellent! The other boys are going to practice with their swords in the town green!"
Jaalin dashed up stairs to get his practice sword. He stopped in front of the mirror hanging just inside his parent's open bedroom, it was a marriage gift from his father to his city-born mother. Jaalin saw a lean young man with tidy dark brown hair, even darker brows, blue eyes like the sky at noon, a strong nose, a pointed jaw, and wearing a fine tunic and trousers tucked into leather boots. Jaalin was pleased also with the progress of his whispery beard; he would have a full one hopefully in a year for his sixteenth birthday. Many of the girls in town seemed to hope for a proposal from him in a year too. Jaalin stepped into his room, floorboards creaking, and went past his simple bed to the shelf holding his most valued possessions: the straw blob-man his sister had made for him; the rock he was sure had sapphires in it; the arrowhead he had found in the woods, which he was convinced was Archaic Sakaedian; the knife his father had given him when he was ten, though right now it was on his hip; and his practice sword, he didn't have a real sword yet. Jaalin took it, strapped it to his belt and ran down stairs and out the door. He jogged along the stone road to the green, he could see the other boys already gathering there. He ran faster and had just reached them and was about to greet his friends when a klaxon filled the air. His heart sank, he knew what this meant. He and the boys and all the farmers walked along the road to town, meeting everyone else at the town square. Jaalin looked up at the statue of Lord Theith, founder of the fortress of Kingsford. A distant humming filled the air and after a minute Jaalin could see a number of black shapes speeding down the road to town. The humming grew louder and the shapes larger until Jaalin could make out a company of men riding those flying carts. They stopped in front of the gathered town, the company of armor-suit wearing soldiers dismounted their hover-bikes, faces hidden behind metal helmets and glowing blue eye-slits. The insignia of the United System Governance was emblazoned on the bikes. Captain James retracted his visor, the different parts sliding back into his suit, to reveal his clean shaven face. Lord Dryan Laa pushed forward through the crowd, accompanied by foot soldiers.
"What is it, Captain? As you probably already know, we are going through a drought, Durandian troops are gathering in Ethleden Pass, and we've lost several mines due to floods in our silver mines. Captain James snorted.
"Don't worry, We have our eye on Duranda."
Jaalin doubted that they really cared though.
"The Interplanetary Congress has issued a order for more recruits for the Navy. The recruits shall be from all worlds of the USG, including Ceres."
Jaalin and everyone native to this world called it Belfas, but the invaders called it Ceres. Jaalin thought it was one of their gods or something.
"The Navy Recruitment Office has compiled a list of young men from the Anverian sector of Ceres. Please step forward if your name is called." a blue image sprang up in front of his face from a light on his suit's forearm. It was a list.
He barked out names of men Jaalin knew, he stood there as he saw Suril the blacksmith, Horst, and Thene the warrior. And suddenly,
"Tal, Jaalin."
A visible wave rippled through the crowd, eyes were turned toward Jaalin. He took a stumbling step forward when his father pushed his way through the crowd.
"Wait, Captain, he just a boy, not yet sixteen! You can't expect him to be useful... up there." Aar, Jaalin's father glanced up to the sky as he said the last part.
"Mr... Aar, the USG Navy has need of able-bodied young men. It's nothing, just someone to change the plasma fission cells in a battlecruiser's engines and to sling arc-torches to repair ships. He'll be learning valuable skills and serving his nation. Besides it says here he is to become a warrior to your 'king'. Heres his chance."
So without a chance to say goodbye, Jaalin was taken by the soldiers away from everyone he had ever known; his family, his friends, his chance to be a swordsman, and the town of Kingsford. A great transport ship descended from the clouds, it's silvery metal hull gleaming the sun, the United System Governance crest visible. It hovered above the rooftops of the town square, the townsfolk watching in silent anxiety. A circular hatch opened on the bottom of the craft and an eerie blue light shot from it. Captain James motioned for the other soldiers to follow him as he walked into it, and disappeared. The faceless, black greatcoat wearing, soldiers formed a line, each guiding a victim into the blue light. Jaalin was last, as he was pushed nearer, his reluctant feet dragging on the stones. He shut his eyes as the tunnel of blue was just a foot away. He clenched his teeth expecting some horrible, strange sensation. But when he opened his eyes he was standing in a sizable metal room with metal seats lining the walls. Men from all over Anveria filled these seats; simple men wearing tunics or robes or blacksmith aprons. They were all snatched from their homes and families by the USG troops just like Jaalin. Jaalin was shoved into a seat by a soldier, who then walked past, through a metal door, which closed behind him. The men were left alone as they heard the thrum of the rockets as they flew up through the sky. Jaalin felt queasy at the thought of all that empty void beneath the thin layer of metal.
These metal-wearing strangers had come to Belfas some decades ago, appearing in the sky with their great metal boats and longships. People from across the Western Continent worshiped them as gods, but the magus at Anverd told the citizens of Anveria they were a race of men from a land in the Far North. The kingdom of Felfeiran welcomed the newcomers with their advanced technology and worshiped them. But there was a coup in Felfeiran, the new king demanded the invaders leave his kingdom. He then prepared for war when they did not. It was terrible, Jaalin had heard first hand accounts of it, a little ship flew over Felfeiran's capital with the royal army inside and cannons arrayed on it's walls. The little ship opened it's hull and a great, brilliant red column of fire shot down from the opening, destroying the city in one hit. Even after that the USG only came again, to every kingdom and empire except possibly the Three Great Powers, to tell them their world, Ceres as they called it, was now a USG world. The common folk weren't impressed. But the USG had never come and taken young men away. Jaalin wondered what was going to happen to him as he sat there in lonely misery; the ship jumping into a wormhole as it cleared the atmosphere. James voiced came from a speaker on the ceiling.
"We'll be arriving at Parvati at 0745 hours."
