Azazel_E

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Earl barely remembered the early years of his childhood. He could recall vague memories of his parents; his father’s broad back as he left early every morning, his mother’s kind but tired smile as she looked at him between making breakfast.

They lived in a small home in a big city, the capital. Too small a home for three, and eventually four, people. He remembered walking to the market, his small hand tightly held by his mother, and wondering why they had to squeeze their lives into one room when there were so many large buildings around. Where other boys his age boasted of one day slaying dragons, living in a big house was his first dream. His mother had laughed and praised him for being practical.

The memories after the birth of his sister, Anna, were much clearer, starting from the first time he held her tiny hand. He’d marveled at the soft creature blowing spit bubbles in his mother’s arms, astounded to learn that all people, even heroes like Dunn the Dragon Slayer, started off as the same helpless babes. His mother told him that babies represented the endless potential of the future, so it was the duty of the older generation to protect them. His duty was to protect his sister, so she could have the chance to grow into the next Harvest Hero, if that’s what she was meant to be.

It meant a lot of work. Often, he would watch his sister while his mother handled chores for the house or worked for a little extra money for a couple of days during the week. He never minded. One day, he would be a man and a man had to look after an entire family. One little sister was good training, like apprentices did smaller jobs to learn the ropes of a craft before they could be paid for their service.

Thinking of his responsibilities as training injected levity and fun into a stark life. He gloated to himself that he was becoming more skilled while his ‘friends’, children who lived nearby and played on his street, wasted their time training a mockery of swordsmanship with long sticks.

They couldn’t change the ‘pee rags’ of a baby without making her cry. They cried when they scraped their knees and tore their clothes while Earl had already learned how to sew. They pestered their parents endlessly for treats in the market while Earl learned his mother’s recipes. Women’s work, they said to deride his efforts when his bragging occasionally escaped his thoughts, but he saw it as more training to take care of his future family. They’d have to eat. The most the boys laughing at him could do was put hard loaves of cheap bread on the table but he could make hearty meals that would keep them hale and healthy.

His father recognized his efforts and brought his son to work, cleaning the large houses he admired. He learned about many tools as he polished silver, organized cluttered closets, and straightened out gardens. His knowledge increased further as his father extended his service to businesses, Earl picking up precious knowledge from the artisans and crafters.

His father even paid him for the work, a single copper. Earl responsibly saved most of the coins, as a proper savings could be the difference between life and death for families with their fleeting incomes, but when he did splurge, he bought toys for Anna, her excitable personality meaning she broke many of them.

His ‘training’ continued after his parents death; his frail mother to a sickness, his chronically exhausted father to the hand of an irate noble for reasons Earl didn’t understand. It turned his struggle to survive on the streets of Summer Spire with a toddler too young to understand their circumstances a game, framing a strange hell into something familiar.

He did his best to find warm, dry places for them to sleep, as a man had to put a roof over his family’s head. Stealing food from inattentive vendors was just like shopping with his mother, except without his mother and her coin purse. Running errands for the cutthroats in the capital’s slums was work, despite the many dubious circumstances and consequences, so he did his best to be professional.

His dedication paid off. His father always told him that that for people like them, with no talent or background, dedication was the only way to change their lives for the better. And he was right. Earl was noticed by a moderately successful group of roadmen, successful enough for him to be envied by the other boys in the slums. Most boys his age would serve as cannon fodder, having little skill, but he was put in safer ambush sites and given preferential treatment by the bosses. Simply because he made himself useful.

Bandit tore their clothes often and could hardly afford the expense of new clothes every week. Earl had the best hands with a needle. Bandits also wanted to eat good food and he learned to make decent meals from the barest scraps he could get his hands on. The men appreciated him and looked out for him, Anna as well by association.

He did his best to do his job well. Even the parts he didn’t like. Killing was…horrid. A man needed to be able and willing to defend his family so he did what he had to do. They didn’t ask him to fight often but he followed through when they did, earning their trust and more benefits.

Then, his dedication bestowed on him the greatest blessing of them all. One day, he caught the attention of his current employer, Lady Lourianne Tome.

She brought him to a big house, like the ones he always admired. He still had to work hard but he earned more money than he’d ever seen, not that he had much of a use for it. All of the servants were provided for more than satisfactorily. Even better, he was important. He wasn’t the invisible boy quietly sweeping the halls. He was the estate’s steward. People listened when he spoke, shopkeepers greeted him respectfully when he introduced himself. Not even his father had managed to increase his status.

He and Anna had their own room with more space than they could ever need. They ate good food, fresh food, several times a day. It was almost enough to make him forget the many nights he went hungry, having to choose between feeding himself or feeding his sister.

Best of all, they had a family again. A very strange family, but a warm one that looked after them well. No matter how hard he tried, Earl could never provide a safe place with people he could trust. That Anna could trust. He was glad someone had before it was too late.

Earl wasn’t blind. While she could be a sweet little girl, he saw the way his sister’s mind deteriorated in the face of their harsh life. He worried for her but it was all he could do to keep them alive.

Anna had changed dramatically since Lady Tome took them in. Under the guidance of Geneva, though he was not to call her that outside the house. The strange woman with skin the color of ash and a wiry tail tipped with the shape of a leaf had frightened him at first. However, he’d grown to respect and trust her unconditionally.

She eased his sister’s fears, quelling the constant rage and rampant violence Anna seemed unable to control. Once again, she was smiling with carefree abandon she hadn’t possessed since their parents passed, given the freedom to play like any other child. Earl’s gratitude for that alone would be enough for him to happily devote himself to his lady for the rest of his life but she deigned to give him more.

Geneva was no mere servant. In truth, Earl didn’t know what she was. He knew she possessed vast knowledge of every subject he could imagine. Under direction from Lady Tome, she shared that knowledge with him. Everything he needed to be the finest steward in the kingdom…and much more.

So much more.