Styke was born to a slave woman in Aerndale. To spare him from a life in chains, she secretly entrusted him to her lover, Taran - a low-ranking soldier turned woodcutter. Taran, already weighed down by poverty, had married a prostitute who bore him a daughter, Nel. She left soon after the birth, leaving Taran to raise both children under one crumbling roof.
Wolnwood was always wet. A thin morning mist clung to the ground, and the air smelled of damp moss and old rain. Styke walked the muddy path toward the well, his boots already soaked through.
Herald was there first, sleeves rolled to his elbows, drawing water with a practiced rhythm.
"Morning," Herald said.
"Good morning," Styke replied.
A quiet moment passed-with roosters crowing in the distant and sheeps bleating.
Herald glanced back over his shoulder.
"You're the only lad left in the village now. Don't you miss your mates?"
Styke lifted his chin, trying to sound casual.
"Miss who?"
Herald raised an eyebrow, seeing right through him.
"Erin, Robert, Geron... oh-Geron especially. Heard he's a watchman in the capital now."
He smiled softly to himself, proud of the boy he'd seen grow up.
Styke's face tightened as he smiled.
"Ha! Pathetic watchmen. Hiding behind city walls while the Ashens burn village after village."
Herald poured the bucket into his pail and set the rope again.
"Watchmen don't fight outside the walls."
"Because they've got no balls," Styke snapped.
"Tell me then, lad," Herald said, "what's the duty of a watchman?"
Styke crossed his arms, pretending confidence.
"To bring peace to the people of Aerndale."
Herald snorted and gave him a playful smack on the back of the head.
"Oi-!" Styke yelped.
"Wrong. Their job is catching heretics and treasoners in the capital." He pulled up another bucket as he spoke.
Styke laughed-too loud, too forced.
"I knew that. It just wasn't coming out of my mouth."
Herald didn't bother calling out the lie.
"Anyway, it's mostly the Bloodshields who deal with those Ashen bastards."
Styke's expression shifted-pride swelling in his chest.
"I'm going to be a Bloodshield."
Herald slowly lowered the bucket back into the well. He paused mid-motion and turned to him.
"...Really? When?"
"Tomorrow morning. Nel's leaving for the capital too," Styke said with a smile.
Herald blinked-surprised, then warm.
The pail touched the water. Herald loosened the rope as he tried to let the water around the pail in.
"Aye... I heard your father tell me you two were planning to go. But I didn't expect it to be this soon." Then after a brief pause, he continued. "See me tomorrow morning before you leave. A lad shouldn't walk away from his home without a proper farewell."
"Okay," Styke nodded.
---
Styke entered the little hut with the water bucket on his shoulder. He poured it into the small wooden bucket near his bed. Then he heard Nel's voice from behind him.
"Aren't you going to bring back Mary today?"
Styke didn't reply. After a brief pause, she spoke again.
"Father's going to beat you if you don't. He's been very angry these days."
"Why don't you go and bring her back if you're nagging about it so much?" Styke shot back.
"S-S-She's not my sheep," Nel murmured.
"Did you say something???" Styke yelled.
"Don't blame me for not telling you if he beats you," Nel murmured softly.
Styke mimicked her tone mockingly.
"Quit muttering curses under your breath, Nel."
The sun was setting in Wolnwood under cloudy, dark weather, casting the village in a grayish-orange glow.
Styke lay on the bed, remembering the time their father fell face-first into the mud on a rainy evening. He burst out laughing. Nel looked at him, confused.
"What happened?"
Styke barely held his laughter as he tried to speak.
"You remember that rainy evening when father fell into the mud, face-first? He was yelling your na-"
They both burst out laughing.
"I really wish he falls today too," Nel added through her laughter.
Styke suddenly shot up in shock as he remembered something.
"Father's coming home early tonight?"
"Yes. He should be home by now."
"You!!! W-Why haven't you told me about it???" Styke grit his teeth in anger.
"He to-" Nel began.
Styke interrupted her.
"I just remembered I have to go to Herald's house. I'll be back soon!" He hurried out of the hut.
But as he stepped outside, he saw a man half-drunk and limping toward him. It was his father. Styke slowly stepped back inside.
Why is he so early? Why? Oh no. I'm as good as dead, he thought in a panic.
"Who is it?" Nel asked, curious.
"Shut up!" Styke hissed through clenched teeth.
Taran stepped inside the hut and sat heavily on a stool. He slowly looked up at Nel.
"Water."
"Yes, father," she said, standing and bringing him a glass.
Styke sat stiffly, staring at the half-open door, fingers tightly wrapped around his hands.
Taran stood up again and went outside to check the sheep shelter. Styke clasped his hands together, whispering prayers as he closed his eyes, begging God for a miracle.
Then he heard his father's voice.
"Where's Mary?". He yelled.
"You're dead, boy. You're dead. You're a dead boy." His voice grew louder and louder in anger by each word as he stormed inside the house.
Nel couldn't help feeling the humor in the air as she her brother beg for mercy.
The sun shone bright in Wolnwood as the night ended with rainfall soaking the already-damp mud.
Styke and Nel stood beside the wet road, waiting for their wagon. Herald and his wife-cradling their newborn daughter-had gathered to say goodbye. Nel's friends had come as well. It was unusual for Nel not to beg to hold the baby whenever Herald's wife was around. But she was moody today, staring at a lost lamb in the distant forest all alone by herself bleating for her flock. She couldn't help but feel a sting of worry as she recalled last night's howling wolves.
Styke stood proudly in his new clothes, his imagination full of hopes and dreams. Excitement ran in his blood. He pictured himself being knighted by the king of Aerndale.
The wagon arrived. Nel held her brother's arm and began praying. Styke closed his eyes and joined her.
"Oh, Almighty Lord, may You guide us through our journey with love, compassion, and warmth. Feed us our daily breads. Guide us through light in our darkest hours. Protect us from whatever evil is yet to come."
Nel's eyes filled with tears as she finished.
"Why are you crying?" Styke asked, irritated.
Herald noticed and put his arm around her shoulders.
"Ohoohooo, Nel! Don't cry. Your friends are laughing at you-look." He pointed at the girls smiling at her. One of them handed Nel a stone necklace as a goodbye gift.
"We'll be going to the capital every Sunday," Herald's wife said, cradling her baby. "And I'll always bring our little babe with us. Don't cry, okay?"
"Are you kids coming or not??!" the wagon master shouted.
Herald shouted back, "Coming, lad!"
He helped Styke and Nel load their bags into the wagon. A few of Nel's friends looked down as their eyes were filled with tears. All the villagers who'd gathered for the farewell waved and called out their goodbyes as the wagon rattled away down the muddy road.