First a real quick preamble. First, this story contains no sex scenes. It's mostly setup for later installments. Later ones will have sex, or will at least contain scenes with intimacy which heavily imply that the characters have had sex. I haven't fully decided yet. Also, this chapter is going to be an emotional gut punch, at least that's the goal. If that bothers you, you have been warned.
Home is Where the Heartache is
I lived on a small farmstead with my parents, just on the outskirts of the village. It wasn't anything special, but it was home.
I came home around mid-morning, after checking my traps. I set my pack near the door, and found Mother in bed. She had been ill for almost a week. In that time, she had been growing gradually weaker.
Her voice was a no more than a whisper. "Sebastian, why are you home so early? Did your hunt not go well?"
"The traps were empty. Game keeps getting scarcer. I may need to start ranging further out if we are to survive."
"Don't worry. We'll be fine. No matter what happens, we're still family. I believe in you and Thomas."
Thomas was my father. A small, wiry man, with brown hair, brown eyes, and a face that seemed to hold a permanent scowl. I could never shake the feeling that he didn't like me, but I couldn't see why. I would ask Mother, but I couldn't get a direct answer. I wasn't disrespectful or lazy. I just couldn't figure it out.
Mother had another coughing fit. They were getting worse. Recently, I started seeing blood on her sleeves, and handkerchiefs, despite her best efforts to hide it. I quickly brought her a cup of water. I tried to pretend not to notice, but I decided that I couldn't just let it go today.
"Mother, how long have you been coughing blood?"
"Hmm? What are you talking about Sebastian?"
"Mother, please don't lie to me. Cecilia has been washing your handkerchiefs. I've seen the blood. I just want to know how bad it's gotten."
"You know, she's a lovely girl. I know her parents approve of you."
Cecilia was the butcher's daughter, and my dearest friend since I was nine. I had given it thought, but the blight had pushed such thoughts out of my mind. Perhaps I should ask sooner rather than later. With her blue eyes, chestnut locks, and rounded features, it would surprise no one if she were married off to some merchant's son.
But I would not be distracted from my question. "Mother, please."
She turned her head away. "A few days now. Its been getting worse."
"You're not going to get better, are you."
She shook her head. "I don't think so." The words hit me in the gut. Until this past week, I hadn't even conceived of a world without Mother. Now the realization was undeniable.
"Listen, Sebastian. Brie, the butcher's wife, was over here, and I had her write my final instructions in a letter. I asked her to keep it until I... until I die."
"Mother..."
"Shh. Please let me finish. I don't have much time I have left. I want you to take care of everything. Your father has enough troubles without adding me to them."
The crops had been blighted this year. We barely had enough to pay the taxes, much less enough to live on. I had been hunting and trapping for months, but there never seemed to be enough. Despite the deprivation, I was 19, so well past my prime growing years. I was a solid six foot one. Prior to this year, I was built like a tree, but since the blight, I looked more like a stick. My green eyes were framed by slightly sunken features, and the dark brown hair I had inherited from Mother was starting to thin a bit.
Another coughing fit from Mother broke me out of my reverie. She had stopped trying to hide the blood. I couldn't help but wonder if she even had that much blood left in her veins. She was starting lose color, and her eyes looked dead.
"Mother? Mother?!"
"I'm still here Sebastian. I'm still here."
"I don't want you to go."
"Listen, I know this is hard. It's going to get harder. Just know that I love you more than life itself. Please, live well for me, my dearest boy."
"Mother? Mother?! Mother?!!"
A Grave Matter
Cecilia found me weeping by Mother's bed. She had her mother in tow. Ever since Mother had gotten sick, Cecilia's mother, Brie, would come visit and help Cecilia with the house and keep Mother company. I heard Brie cry out in pain, though it didn't register at the time. Cecilia rushed to me and held on like I was going to fly away.
Mother wanted her grave to be on top of the hill a few miles from our house. I started digging her grave myself. I stabbed the shovel into the ground, again and again. Father didn't seem interested and that meant that the responsibility fell to me. A few of the townsfolk came to offer their sympathies. One man was less than welcome in my book.
Father Augustine resembled a man, but under the skin lay a snake. He was portly, with long, thin gray hair, and eyes that contained the avarice of a demon. He was the only man in the village who got fatter during the blight. It was like the man had made it his mission to make my life as miserable as possible. He always seemed to come up with the worst things to say. When I caught my first rabbit, he opined on the reasons why eating meat would lead to moral degradation. When I failed to catch anything, he would ask me how my family would survive without meat. He would also leer at Mother whenever Father wasn't looking. I could see in her face that she hated it, but whenever I brought it up, she would tell me to pretend like I hadn't seen it. Now that Mother was no longer here, I was sure that I would end up killing him. Many's the time I wished I could strangle him with his own belt.
Father Augustine licked his chops as he began to speak. "Good evening, Sebastian. Such a shame about your mother. She was always such a pious woman."
"Yes, she was, Father Augustine. What can I do for you?"
"Oh no, I should be asking that. I came to offer a sermon for the sake of your dead mother."
Just looking at his face fuels my hatred. Why couldn't he be the one to die in her place. "There is no need. I will give her eulogy, and then bury her."
"Well, if you're sure. Such a shame though. I'm sure your mother would have appreciated one last sermon."
"Perhaps, but I swore to her that I would take care of this."
I should have told him that he could take his sermons and his false sympathies and shove them down his throat. He was right about one thing. Mother was a very pious woman, ever since I could remember, she never missed a sermon. Sometimes I would ask her why, but all she would ever say was that "we all need God's forgiveness."
The cleric turned to speak with some of the townsfolk who were arriving to pay their respects. Cecilia and her family were among them. Her mother was distraught. She and Mother had become very close after her son died. Cecilia's father was holding his wife while she wept. A good man to be sure. On the rare occasion that I had game to sell, he would insist on paying full price for it. Cecilia was at her mother's side, doing her best to comfort her. Mother was right about her. In these parts, where tragedy could strike without warning, that kind of character was more valuable than gold.
Cecilia broke off from the rest of the her family to talk to me. "Seb, I'm so sorry. It's hard to believe that she's gone."
All I could do was nod. I was about to speak, but the words got caught in my throat.
She embraced me tightly as tears flowed from my eyes. "If you ever need to talk, don't hesitate to come to me."
I shook my head. "I don't want to burden you with my grief."
"Don't say such things. What purpose do friends serve, if not to share the weight of our grief."
I nodded. Mother always said that. She always made the effort to offer her time to those around her, to her own detriment sometimes. When Cecilia's mother lost her infant son, it was Mother who spent hours of her day consoling her. She even made food to take for their family.
"He's right, you know. A boy's grief can lead himself and those around them to terrible deeds. Lest we forget that the first necromancer was found raising his own sister from her grave."
Cecilia glared at Father Augustine. "A boy doesn't take it upon himself to bury his mother. Only a man can do that. And isn't written that we of the faith should take it upon ourselves to console the aggrieved? If I recall correctly, the boy in that story was all alone and shunned by his village, long before he tried to raise the only other person who loved him!"
Father Augustine looked shocked, but quickly rebounded. "Of course you are correct Cecilia. Sebastian is now a man, free to make any mistakes he may." With that, the cleric walked away. Maybe this time he would stay away for good.
Cecilia took my face in her hands and turned me to face her. "Don't listen to him. He is only bitter because his own mother left him on the churches doorstep."
The church managed most of the orphanages. Many orphans would be inducted into the clergy or the paladins. It certainly was possible that Father Augustine was one such orphan, though I found it hard to believe that he would be such a menace if he was. More likely he was some nobleman's son, not in line for inheritance, and so relegated to the church or some other pursuit.
She spoke, drawing me out of my mind. "Now, I need to go back to my parents. I'll come visit you tomorrow."
I nodded again, and went back to digging. A few of the men tried to help me, but I waved them off. This my responsibility, and I would do it myself. The grave was finished a short time later. I gave my eulogy, somehow managing to remain composed with tears in my eyes. Father was there, and yet not. I would glance at him occasionally, but he never showed the slightest interest in me. He would glance at the grave, the coffin, even Father Augustine, but never me.
I lowered Mother's coffin in the grave. Some of the townsfolk came to offer a prayer and throw a handful of dirt on the coffin. The butcher and his wife came forward to do the same, while Cecilia came over to me and gave me a handful of dirt to throw. The rest of the townsfolk came and went. I spent the rest of the evening filling the grave.
Midnight Revelations
Mother can finally rest. It must be midnight by now, though no one can be sure, since tonight is the new moon. I fell upon my bed, caked in dirt. Mother would be furious that I was in bed in such a state, but I was too tired and defeated to wash in the river. I should sleep first, and perhaps, the world will be better in the morning. I welcomed sleep in the hopes that unconsciousness would relieve my pain, though it was not to be.
My dreams are fraught with peril. I saw my father, and that damn cleric, conspiring to kill me. I woke up in a cold sweat. Of course it's absurd, my father wouldn't kill me, would he? Surely not, but something was pulling me out of my bed. I must know. I slowly opened my door, and crept through the house. Surely I'm merely sleep deprived, and am not thinking clearly. I can see a dim light coming from the woodshed. I can hear hushed voices from inside the shed. I think it's Father's and I can hear that cleric.
