watches me with her captivating eyes, as if I’m some sort of freak show at the fair—as if she’s expecting horns to suddenly pop out the top of my head. “This world is not an easy one to live in, Kate. I know it is difficult for you to understand, but none of these children fears what lies before them. They are eager for their opportunity to fight and help our people regain control of our home.”
Starving, I spoon a big bite of the stew into my mouth, chew, and swallow, before I speak. The warmth of the potatoes and sweetness of the carrots remind me of my farm and set my nerves at ease.
“Where I’m from, it would be unheard of for anyone under the age of eighteen to fight. Even fighting at that age was sad, but the world I live in is difficult, too. Earth is riddled with problems, but nothing as powerful as what’s happening here. Children there are expected to go to school to learn, and then to college to learn more, before going off into the world on their own. Although some do join the military early. But most have an easy life there.”
She hasn’t touched the food sitting in front of her. “Hopefully, it stays that way there, but here, most children are considered adults by the age of fifteen. Many of us choose to get married and have children before we reach our twentieth year. Otherwise, our race would die out all too soon.”
“Are you, Arland, or Lann married? Do any of you have children?” I ask before I can stop myself. The thought of Arland being married to someone makes me uncomfortable. Considering what we’ve shared in my dreams, I think my presence would make his wife uneasy … if she knew.
“No, but we are different.” Flanna’s eyes light up, and she pats my hand.
“Why?”
“Timing.” That’s all she says about their love lives, but Flanna doesn’t appear sad—not at all. In fact, she’s all smiles. “Would you like me to tell you more?”
Propping my elbows on the table, I rest my chin in my hands. “Please do.”
“Good. Well, Lann, Arland, and I
were
the only three with private quarters. In case you have not figured it out, we are the highest ranked soldiers. Arland has been in charge since his father left, ten years ago.”
“So, since he was fifteen, he’s been in charge?”
“Yes, and he is the youngest we have assigned to lead a base, and the best at containing the daemons.”
When he took over, Arland was a year younger than the eager soldier, Tristan. I picture Arland as a fifteen-year-old boy, giving orders to men and women, many of whom were much older than he was—which is still the case. It must have been hard for Arland and the soldiers under him. The fact he has run this base for so long, with so many reporting to him, means they have a great deal of respect for him. I’ve seen, firsthand, how they treat him when he enters and exits a room. They give formal bows, step out of his way while he walks, and rush around following his instructions. He’s not a stern leader. When giving orders, he doesn’t talk down to them like they are beneath him—he shows kindness and smiles. At least, that’s what I’ve noticed, so far.
“Wasn’t he ever afraid?”
“You have seen him. Does he appear fearful of anything?”
I laugh. “No, I guess not. How did he learn to fight the daemons?”
“He had no choice. We were just children when the early battles took place, but Arland seemed to have a natural instinct for killing them.”
“Is that why he was put in charge here? Because he was so good at killing and containing them?”
“Part of the reason is due to his strength and talent, but it is in his blood to lead—and he was anxious to take on the role from his prophecy … waiting for you. His father trained him for it before you were born, before they even knew what they were training for,” she says with a pointed look. “You know, I have never seen him sleep anywhere other than the room you are in, but since your arrival, he now sleeps in
Starving, I spoon a big bite of the stew into my mouth, chew, and swallow, before I speak. The warmth of the potatoes and sweetness of the carrots remind me of my farm and set my nerves at ease.
“Where I’m from, it would be unheard of for anyone under the age of eighteen to fight. Even fighting at that age was sad, but the world I live in is difficult, too. Earth is riddled with problems, but nothing as powerful as what’s happening here. Children there are expected to go to school to learn, and then to college to learn more, before going off into the world on their own. Although some do join the military early. But most have an easy life there.”
She hasn’t touched the food sitting in front of her. “Hopefully, it stays that way there, but here, most children are considered adults by the age of fifteen. Many of us choose to get married and have children before we reach our twentieth year. Otherwise, our race would die out all too soon.”
“Are you, Arland, or Lann married? Do any of you have children?” I ask before I can stop myself. The thought of Arland being married to someone makes me uncomfortable. Considering what we’ve shared in my dreams, I think my presence would make his wife uneasy … if she knew.
“No, but we are different.” Flanna’s eyes light up, and she pats my hand.
“Why?”
“Timing.” That’s all she says about their love lives, but Flanna doesn’t appear sad—not at all. In fact, she’s all smiles. “Would you like me to tell you more?”
Propping my elbows on the table, I rest my chin in my hands. “Please do.”
“Good. Well, Lann, Arland, and I
were
the only three with private quarters. In case you have not figured it out, we are the highest ranked soldiers. Arland has been in charge since his father left, ten years ago.”
“So, since he was fifteen, he’s been in charge?”
“Yes, and he is the youngest we have assigned to lead a base, and the best at containing the daemons.”
When he took over, Arland was a year younger than the eager soldier, Tristan. I picture Arland as a fifteen-year-old boy, giving orders to men and women, many of whom were much older than he was—which is still the case. It must have been hard for Arland and the soldiers under him. The fact he has run this base for so long, with so many reporting to him, means they have a great deal of respect for him. I’ve seen, firsthand, how they treat him when he enters and exits a room. They give formal bows, step out of his way while he walks, and rush around following his instructions. He’s not a stern leader. When giving orders, he doesn’t talk down to them like they are beneath him—he shows kindness and smiles. At least, that’s what I’ve noticed, so far.
“Wasn’t he ever afraid?”
“You have seen him. Does he appear fearful of anything?”
I laugh. “No, I guess not. How did he learn to fight the daemons?”
“He had no choice. We were just children when the early battles took place, but Arland seemed to have a natural instinct for killing them.”
“Is that why he was put in charge here? Because he was so good at killing and containing them?”
“Part of the reason is due to his strength and talent, but it is in his blood to lead—and he was anxious to take on the role from his prophecy … waiting for you. His father trained him for it before you were born, before they even knew what they were training for,” she says with a pointed look. “You know, I have never seen him sleep anywhere other than the room you are in, but since your arrival, he now sleeps in
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