nmyworld

The twilight outside and burning lamps inside cast eery shadows on the walls of the small dining room where a middle aged man occupied one of the modest chairs surrounding a dining table stacked with food. The sun had just set at his back and the day was rapidly transforming into night.

Looking at the table top with hungry eyes, the man called out “Tuulen! Hurry yourself, I’m famished!”

The meal laid out before him consisted of a basket of fresh baked breads, all different colors, textures, and tastes, a plate of boiled eggs that were halved and stuffed with a meaty paste, and a plate with boiled fish circling the boiled veal which occupied the center of the plate. Such a meal was fit for kings and generals, but never for a farmer and his son; a burden was most likely to be lifted from someone’s shoulder that night.

“Coming, father,” yelled a slightly annoyed boy. In came walking a boy in his teenage years. His dark hair was still wet from his bath as he sat down in the chair on the other side of the table as his father, Jimitty. He looked over the lamp and smiled at his father who still stare at the food he prepared with hungry eyes but with a touch of pride.

“Wow! You cooked a feast,” said Tuulen as he look down at the food his father prepared for them, “if we don’t finish it, can I give it to Rex?”

Jimitty gave his son a look that hinted sorrow and replied, “Fine with me, as long as you eat thrice your fill. I don’t cook this much or this well for Rex.”

Jimitty managed to let out a smile from his troubled face, grabbed his fork, and loaded up his plate with a slice of bread and hunk of boiled veal. Tuulen followed suit but grabbed a few eggs, proclaiming them his favorite dish. In silence, they ate their feast until neither of them could stomache another bite.

It grew cold as the sun fell behind the mountains that surrounded their home so Jimitty stood up to light some of the other lamps in the room.

As he stood up, the silence was broken by Tuulen. “I’ll get the honey,” he proclaimed excitedly.

“Sure,” said Jimitty.

Tuulen scooted out of his chair and walked towards the large cupboards to his right.

“But there’s,” Jimitty hesitated, apparently apprehensive of what he was about to say. He stumbled on words for a few seconds as he lit a wall candle and watched Tuulen grab a small jar from the cupboard and close the door. “There’s something I need to ask you.”

Tuulen sat the jar of honey on the table and looked up at his father. “I knew there was a reason for the fancy feast,” he said with sorrow. He sighed, apparently aware of what Jimitty was about to ask.

“I know I said that I would never leave home again, but I’ve been summoned by the emporer himself to help fend off the horde of the barbarians that threaten our very lands.”

Slowly sitting down in the chair, Tuulen stared at the jar of honey. “You fought them before and returned to mother and I a hero amongst the people,” said Tuulen. “You are old, you have done your duty. Why can I not fight? I’m old enough.”

“You are my son. You fight in no battles. I am uneducated and the sword and shield are all I know. History will forget people like me, but history never forgets those who create civilizations,” ranted Jimitty.

Tuulen had a brief glimpse of what it would be like to be the creator of a lawful society where the people worked together in harmony and equality. “I do wish to become a scholar, but what were you going to ask me?”

Jimitty looked down at his feet and leaned against the wall. “Now that your mother is gone, I want you to decide on what you want to do.” He walked over to Tuulen and sat down in the chair to Tuulen’s side. “To tend to the home and manage the field or to enter into the Academe. These are your choices.”

Tuulen looked up excitedly into his father’s eyes. Nervously, he grabbed a slice of bread, pour a little honey on it, and took a bite while staring outside into the darkness.

(note: I will continue this one day)