Jack Stockton's Story

The sun woke him as always, rousing him from the kind of sleep only those who worked from sun up to sun down could experience. He turned, throwing the rough spun wool blanket against the wall, his bed being in the left front corner of his small single room stone house.

Bare feet touched onto cold stone floor and hesitated for a moment, until, with a groan the young man pulled himself to his feet, hands braced against his knees, bones cracking and popping with every movement, every pop/crack, met with a satisfied sigh. He allowed himself one more languid stretch, before making his way across the smooth, gray stone floor to the hearth situated in the exact opposite corner.

He worked unhurriedly, gathering things together that were needed to start the day. A kettle came first, water set to boil, fire catching easily to the dry wood, the coals left from the previous night more than enough to ignite it.

While the water heated, he moved about his small home. Pulling on his pants, cursing slightly as the cold leather came into contact with his skin. A pair of well cared for wool socks came next, followed by obviously well worn boots, beaten on by age but still serving their purpose. Standing from the three-legged stool he used to put on the boots, he moved back towards the hearth. However, he did not go directly for the kettle; that was just beginning to whistle, but instead he stood on his tows and reached gingerly above the hearth, drawing from a hidden alcove a silver pendant on a leather cord.

A gentle smile of both nostalgia and wanting moved across his face for a moment, while he remembered his father telling him of his mother, the women who had given her life so that he may live his. She had, of course, died as he was being born. The pendant the only thing of hers his father had kept, and then passed to his son, on his death bed.

The sound of the kettle whistling in earnest tore him from his thoughts, and he shoved the pendant deep into his only pocket\ before moving towards the kettle, donning a pair of old leather work gloves as he went.

The kettle was hot. He could feel that even through his gloves, he grinned then, as he poured the water slowly into a bowl full of tea leaves, he enjoyed tea very much. Even if he did have to drink it from a bowl, he'd had a cup once, but he had foolishly left it sitting on his porch one evening, it was not there the next morning. He hadn't gotten around to getting a new one.

Leaves steeping in a bowl, the young man resigned himself to his work. The sun was full up, and the fields would not work themselves. Though, he mused, sometimes he felt it would be nice if they could. It would give him time to pursue things beside his obligations. Such as reading more on herbal medicine, or, perhaps even something frivolous like painting.

Being a farmer wasn't too bad he supposed, as long as the crops came in he would always have something to eat, he really couldn't gripe. He had a roof above his head, and a warm hearth. The people rarely tried to cheat him, no more than he would expect at least, honestly, sometimes he wondered if people thought if they argued with him on the price long enough, they could get the vegetables for free.

With a resolved sigh he pulled back the bolt on the door. Letting the sun spread in to the dark house, casting away the shadows, and revealing the motes of dust in the air.

The grounds were just beginning to steam as he stepped out, heading toward the makeshift shed where he kept his tools, it was a good day to turn the soil, and prepare it for the next season of planting. That thought in the forefront of his mind he pulled the hoe from it's resting place, giving it a quick once over, and nodding his head when he was satisfied it was in good working shape.

He paid the people walking on the road near his field little mind, and they didn't bother him either. His field would be in the shadow of the great wall for only a few hours, and it was his intention to get the lions share of the work done before the sun would be beating down on him, as a farmer he both loved and hated the sun. Loved it's ability to nurture crops, to help them grow, and loathed it for what it could do to a man who did not acknowledge its superiority.

He spent the morning breaking into sun baked earth, rolling it over and over until he was satisfied, few people stopped him as he worked, mostly to ask him when he would be ready to sell what he'd brought in, he turned them away, with little more than: “It'll get to the market when it gets there.”

Some, however, stopped his work trying to be sociable, to them he gave only marginally more time, only enough that he could not be seen as impolite, and never more than that.

As the sun rose to it's highest in the sky at midday, and he'd finished all but about half of what he'd set out to, he headed in, kicking dirt from his boots as he neared the narrow edge of his small porch, and leaning the hoe gently against the wall to the right of the door. His tea that had been steeping since the early morning, it was cold, and strong from sitting so long. Just as he liked it. He drank at it as he ate at a raw tomato. Wondering if this was all there would ever be for him. Plowing, and planting, raking and hoeing, it was a purposeful life, if not terribly fulfilling to him. The only times he felt truly alive were when he sat upon the highest point of the wall he could get to, staring across the water, across the trees, dreaming of what it might be like, wondering what there might be for him out in the greater world beyond farming.

He sat lost in thought for some time, until at last he looked down and realized all the tea was gone, and he'd eaten the tomato fully. There was still almost half of the day left, time he would normally have spent working the fields, but today was different. There was still time to prepare the fields he thought to himself, yes, he would take the rest of the day off. Go and get some new books, take some of his crops and trade for coin. Then he would buy more books, a waste his father would've called it, to him it was an investment, knowledge was power after all. No one, absolutely no one, respected ignorance. He would learn as much as possible to make himself as less ignorant of the world as possible.

<<<>>>

The marketplace was bustling as always, He could hear the old and young alike gossiping like fools, he had little time or patience for people like that, he didn't care much for small talk, time is money, and not something he enjoyed wasting.

He had easily made his way through the stalls, his destination squarely set in mind, the old man he was looking for would give him fair prices on all his goods, he always did. As he made it within seeing distance of the stall he needed, a shout of greeting was spoken to him, and he caught sight of the waving form of Old-man Thompson. Just the man he was looking for.

Old-man Thompson was a bear of a man, even taller and broader of shoulder even than the young man was, in his old age he still had the sort of vitality that was absent in a lot of men even half his age, he dressed in well spun cottons. A shirt, and fine breeches of it, both of obviously higher quality than anything the young man owned. His hair was fully grey, but he still had a full head of it at the age of sixty five. He was clean shaven, with bright blue eyes.

“Jack, my boy! Come to sell me some of your fine vegetables?” He'd said, voice friendly, if a bit loud. Jack took it in stride, used to his behavior, he'd known the old man since he himself was just a boy, tagging along with his father to make a sell.

“I have fifty pounds of corn.” Jack replied, voice somewhat weary from the days work, but still strong, while swinging the heavy wicker basket from his shoulder down in front of the Mr. Thompson, who gave it a speculative look, before nodding.

“I can give you a fair price for that.” He replied, going for a leather coin pouch attached to his belt, no haggling, no trouble, Jack was pleased with this outcome. Even more so when the old man gave him twenty five gold coins for the basket of corn. “Not enough?” the old man asked seeing the stunned look on Jack's face. “Okay, five more, but not a copper over that.” He then lay five more gold in Jack's hand.

“Honestly Jack my boy, you work too hard. Buy some books, take a few days off.” He continued, the young man could do little more than nod mechanically.

“Thank you, sir.” He managed as Mr. Thompson walked away. “Think nothing of it.” Was the reply before he was gone.

Jack left, a lift to his step as he made his way to the bookstore he frequented.

<<<>>>

The shop had not changed at all since the last time he was there. The same musty smell of old leather, and older paper, ink, and lavender. The source of the lavender scent the young woman before him, grinning at him, like she hadn't seen him last week.

She was a slight woman, pale, but not in a sickly way. Her skin naturally milky. Long golden hair falling around and framing her face, making the green of her eyes shine all the brighter. He dress was of fine make, yellow, with a floral pattern, and probably expensive, he dutifully ignored the way it hugged her every curve.

“Jack! It's been too long!”Her voice was light, but surprisingly strong for such a slight women, he was easily a head taller than her. He smiled back at her, eyes already scanning the multitudes of titles on the shelves, weighing in his mind the pro's and con of each possible purchase.

“Alice, good to see you.” He replied distractedly, drifting towards the shelves laden with their literary treasures.

He began piling books into his arms, anything with a titles that sounded interesting, hours passed like that, Alice watching him a small smile on her lips, and Him gathering book after book to the counter. Sometimes stopping and reading whole chapters before moving on, before he knew it the sun listing low in the sky, and Alice busied herself shutting up the store, finally satisfied with his selection, he moved up towards the counter, money already in hand.

“Find everything alright.” she joked, laughing even as she spoke. Jack found he liked the sound, even if he didn't know how to respond to it.

“I, yes, I think so.” He replied handing her the money for the books and bundling them in his arms, getting ready to head back home.

“I don't suppose I'll be seeing you anytime soon, judging by the size of that pile.” She was smiling when she said it, but something in her voice made him reply differently than he normally would have.

“Perhaps not for books, but.” He paused there. What would he say? “Yes, but?” He'd stepped in it now, nothing for it but to charge forward head first.

“How would you like to come sit on the wall with me sometime?” It wasn't much of an offer he supposed, but it's something he'd shared with no one else. Her answering smile, and subsequent yes carried him all the way home, and until he went to bed that night.

They decided to meet on the last day of the week, She'd said she would bring lunch, and he was excited for that. He had not had a home cooked meal in a long time..

He woke that morning with a lift in his step. Going about his morning ritual, while softly humming a tune he vaguely remembered his father singing to him. He had said it was one of his mothers favorites, not that Jack would know if it really had been or not, but that is what he'd been told.

The sun was rising higher into the sky, and normally he would have been at work already. This day was different however. A knock, and the soft scent of lavender drew his eyes to the door, and made his stomach clench. Odd that, he definitely was not nervous.

"Hello-" He said haltingly, stumbling somewhat over the words.

Then she smiled at him, and all nerves fled his body. "Good morning!" She replied brightly. "Ready to go?" She was wearing another dress, like the one from before, but this one was green, printed with golden ivy, and a wide hat of the same coloring. The green of the dress, and the gold of the ivy making her hair and eyes stand out. A basket was grasped by both hands.

"I- " He started, having to swallow heavily as the words got caught in his throat, She tilted her head to the side quizzically. The look too cute on her face, and he could feel heat coming to his face in his embarrassment. "Yes, yes I am ready." He said closing his door as he stepped out and began walking side by side. "Can I, that is to say. Would you like me to carry that for you?" Nodding towards the basket as he spoke those words.

"Please and thank you!" She replied, happily handing over what he assumed was their lunch for the day. Clapping her hands together, she leaned in to his view slightly. "I didn't know what you liked so I made a little of everything!" It felt like it too. The basket must have weighed a few pounds.

<<<>>>

It was only a short walk to the stairs leading on to the wall from his home. They made it there quickly, pleasant conversation carrying them easily that distance, they knew each other well enough their was no awkward silences.

"This is it." He said. Stopping at a spot near the middle of that portion of the wall, the lake clearly visible, with the sun playing across it's surface in golden lines, it played across her skin also. Making the alabaster almost glow in the sunlight, and the green of her eyes almost seemed to shine.

"It's beautiful~,"She breathed, her tone of voice made pride spread through him, and he replied grinning. "I'm glad you approve."

"Here, hand me that." She spoke, taking the basket from him and spreading a blanket on the stone surface of the wall. "This is the perfect place for a picnic. I can't believe I've never been up here!" She was happy, that by itself made the day for him. She set the varied dishes out onto the blanket, passing guards giving Jack envious looks every time they passed by. He could understand why.

"It's not too much is it?" She asked him, probably seeing his stunned face. "No-, no it's just, I am amazed." he breathed, chuckling out the last three words with a grin, as he set himself gently to the ground, facing the lake and the sun. She hesitated for a moment then, but finally settled right next to him, as close as decency would allow and began to serve them both. They sat like that, eating, and speaking occasionally, the sun still in the sky, the day beautiful for some time. Enjoying each others company, Jack basked in it all. He without even realizing it had been becoming a recluse, and it was nice.

So of course, something would have to ruin it.

He had been startled from his admiration of the beauty before him by the sounds of the horses, Alice jerked next to him, startled obviously not expecting the sound, at least not from outside the walls. They thundered towards his home, their numbers must have been in the hundreds, they acted as if unwary of the beast that lurked in the marshland, and all manner of creatures that dwell without.

"What-?" Alice said haltingly, hugging close to him in fear. His eyes narrowed on the group beyond the wall, food forgotten for the strange happenings. He was shocked when the governor himself made his way onto the wall, dismissing their picnic with a glance he turned his attention to the army at the door.

"A tenth? Are they mad!?" He hissed out voice a vicious whisper, he clenched his fist, eyes flaring in barely surpressed astonishment and fury at their gall. Alice looked at him in surprise at the harsh tone of his voice. He rarely spoke, and never in anger when around her, so it was little surprise. However, a tenth, that was utterly insane. He'd sooner burn his own fields and salt the earth, than allow their enemies to have it, better it be destroyed than taken.

The governor seemed to agree at least. He didn't bow to their demands, he felt a wave of patriotic pride then, so strong it made him grin, a moment later, his grin turned sour.

"People of Tonule, I wish no harm upon you. I offer this one and only warning; leave the wall or fall with it." The man had said, folly, idle words he had thought then. How wrong he would be proven in but a few moments. The Governor scurried past them, and he finally realized he had been holding Alice, dear beautiful Alice to himself since the disaster had begun.

"Sh-should we follow?" She asked. Voice a quiver in excitement and fear, her cheeks sporting a rosy flush from their close proximity. "Yeah, we probably should." He replied distractedly, the tips of his ears turning pink as he looked away from her, and began packing up her things, she moved to help him when one of the guards shouted, and his blood ran cold.

"It's frozen! The entire lake is frozen!" His head jerked sideways so fast, it was almost as if he had been stricken. Pupils dilating in primal fear at the sight of the now frozen lake, how could one man-?

"Run!" He barked at Alice, the minute he saw the man pointing at the wall, striding towards it. Dropping the teapot on the hard stone, shattering it, she came free from her shock at the sound, almost protesting. She was in shock, unable to move. So, he did the only natural thing, he scooped her up in his arms, she squealed at the contact, surprised, he was surprised as well. At how light she felt nestled their, and ran, ignoring everything around him.

He leapt from the last flight of stairs, Alice screaming in his ear as the wall turned cherry red, the heat licking his back, burning him, curling the hair on his body, even as he kept running, heedless of the aches in his legs from how he landed. Even as the heat stopped, and chill permeated the air, a groaning dogged his footsteps, he was convinced it was a great beast chasing them in his panic, so he did not stop, didn't heed the sirens call of curiousity.

That fact alone probably saved their lives. As with a roar of tortured metal, thousands of tons of metal fell upon the outer city in a wave, destroying everything in its path. He didn't stop until they were sequestered in Alice's shop, safe, for the moment.

Knightly! What do I care about knightly!? My home has been invaded, and the one that propagated it is standing in my favorite bakery as if they're were nothing more natural in this world! His fist clenched involuntarily, smashing the bread he carried.

His thoughts raged, he could barely control himself. He wanted nothing more than to lash out. To kill any and all of the invaders that he could, but he knew it was a fools errand. He would be taken down before he fell his second, maybe even before his first. He nodded harshly turning away on shaky legs, arms trembling in barely restrained rage. He made his way slowly back towards Alice's, his own home was in the shadow of the wall.

He remembered going there to see what he could salvage, and finding it ruined beyond repair, everything buried beneath tons of wall, his fields salted by the metal shards of the framework. Ruined, it would never take root again. He managed to salvage a few things. The rest would be safe, they needed to be dug out, everything of import he now carried on his person.

He shook the thoughts from his mind as he walked into Alice home. "I'm back.' He muttered. Walking further in he found Alice where he'd left her, laying in bed, for paler than usual. Shock the healer had called it, she hadn't been able to take it all, so she's retreated into her own mind. He sighed, shoulders folding forward in defeat. There was nothing he could do. He was no healer. She was in good care though. The healer came every few hours to check on her, and she would persist even if he were to disappear.

"What should I do?' He asked nothing in particular, his hand fisting in his hair as he sat next to her bed, the sun playing across her sleeping form making her appear like a sleeping angel. He dozed that day with a smile on his face. And he dreamed.

Everything was shrouded in mist. He was running, always running, He was unsure if he'd ever not been running, the swamps swept by him, he could hear unknown creatures lurking just out of sight. Run, run, he heard, keep running, you must, he stumbled, and tore himself on trees, things in the shadows bit at him, and he bled, but he kept running. He had to get there first. Where there was he wasn't sure, but he was being led there. Just a little further, a clearing ahead, sun coming through the trees, he could almost see-

He woke with a start, someone yelling in the distance. He could hear it through the open window. The dream fleeing from his mind as he cracked his sore back. Teach me to sleep in a chair that will. He thought wryly. Eyeing Alice, and touching his mothers pendant, where he was calm restlesness made itself known, as if he was needed somewhere, but he could think of nothing that he needed to do, but be here.

"What an oddity.' He muttered, before getting on with his day.