A young, blonde girl held the hand of on older man. Opposite them stood a man, equipped fully in knight’s armour. A deep frown spread across his face as he looked down at the girl.
‘Five years, huh…’ He sighed deeply as he looked to the old, and grey haired man. ‘You’ve started a family, I see. It’s a shame you didn’t have a son. I’m sure he would have been a great asset for the army.’
The old man nodded solemnly, the girl’s hand slowly slipping from his. Despite his sad look, the girl was the most agitated.
A few years later, the girl held a sword in each hand. The same old man stood in front of her, a defeated and tired look in his eyes. Unlike before, this time he was leaning heavily on a cane.
‘Alice…’ He took a slight step closer, but she stepped away. ‘You must stop… This is not what you were meant to do.’
Her grip tightened on the swords. ‘You’re wrong… I was born to fight, and this is what I want to do. I won’t let you say otherwise, even if you are my Dad.’
He shifted slightly, hanging his head low. ‘This won’t be easy. No one will want you to do well. This… It’s not ladylike… It’s not safe.’
She snarled, turning her back to him. ‘Do you think I care?’
A brown haired teen sat alone, his back leaning against a broken, crumbling wall. In his dirty hands, he held half a loaf of bread, which he couldn’t quite get himself to eat. But, as his stomach rumbled yet again, he took a slow bite. He scrunched up his face as he chewed, it was disgustingly stale.
Another boy around the same age, maybe a year or two younger, approached him. He held out his hand, palm up, on which a single gold coin sat.
‘Take it.’
He obliged and quickly took the coin out of his hand, inspecting it closely. Realising that it was in fact real, he looked up to the boy in a mixture of gratitude and confusion. He bore an overly contagious smile, and was dressed in fine clothes. Despite this, he slid down onto the floor next to him, holding a hand out to shake.
‘Julian.’
He took his hand, a smile forming on his face. ‘It’s Oliver… Thank you.’
‘I can stay?’ The older one questioned, his mouth hanging open in shock. He stood in a large and well decorated hallway, and his ragged clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb.
‘Yeah. Well, it’s more a deal than a charitable action. You train to be a knight and you can stay… What do you say?’
‘Of course it’s a yes.’ He bit his lip in an attempt to hide his excitement. ‘I’m in your debt.’
‘Relax.’ He laughed, patting him on the back harshly. ‘You’re my friend, not my bodyguard.’
The finely dressed boy from before stood in an elaborate room. A large table sat in the middle, and an even larger map covered it. Even though the table was surrounded with chairs, the only other person in the room was his father. He stood tall and with a strict look on his face, a demeanour he normally saved for official matters, not his family. And while the map he towered above normally held strategic plans, this time something different sat upon it, a single gold coin.
The man’s lips began to move, though no sound came out. The boy looked up to him, trembling. The memory began to waver, as it slowly faded back to the darkness.
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