1 Dirt to Dirt

Billowing plains sprawled out into the horizon, golden wheat and lush green crops of all varieties accompanying the swollen hills. On one of these myriad hills sat a young child, a boy around the age of 9. This boy seemed pretty average in all regards except for his radiant, blue eyes that were accented well by his dark, brown hair that was approaching black in darkness.

He was merely laid out on the hill, using his hands as a pillow while the soft cushion of wheat comforted his body.

The golden sun in the distance illuminated the crests of the hills, the luminescent rays shining through the wheat and painting dynamic pictures with shadow as its ink and the other hills as its canvas. The boy laid atop a hill thoughtfully pondered matters unbeknownst partially to even himself while appreciating the natural artwork on display.

He wished not to go home; home is where some of his worst memories resided. Home is where… Home is not preferable. The fields are much friendlier. The brisk, sempiternal breeze was always a pleasure and the soft comfort of wheat stalks left his mind at relative peace.

The boy slowed his breathing to a tranquil, rhythmic beat, and eventually fell asleep out in the fields.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw nothing but the bountiful stars strewn across the sky, almost as if someone had thrown them like a pocketful of sand. While viewing these gorgeous accents to the night, the boy sighed wistfully and felt the faint sting of tears come as his vision blurred slightly.

The melancholy of his immature life dragged his spirits down deeply. He wished for nothing more than to forget his hardships and put his full effort into reaching the great sky above.

"The stars… can I view them myself someday? Or will I never reach the top?" The boy laughed in a bitter manner and slowly got up off the ground while wiping the tears from his eyes.

As the child started to walk down the hill and go home, he stopped momentarily to take one firm look back at the sky and the stars within it.

Soon after setting off, he saw a small house in the distance made of simple materials like sod and maybe a few other more luxurious ones as accents, but those were only there to satisfy his parent's greed; no one visited their house to show off to.

The boy approached in a slightly hesitant manner, sighed, and opened the front door while announcing his presence.

Inside, there were scarce amounts of light, just the faint residue of the main candle in the living room-cum-kitchen. To his dismay, the child smelled the ever-present reek of alcohol seeping in from the main room as well.

"Oi, kid, where ya been at these past few hours, eh? I coulda needed ya a few hours back, ya know?" A gruff, slurred voice resounded out from the main room.

The boy sighed and made his way towards it while responding, "Sorry Pa, I fell asleep while working the fields. What did you need me for?"

"The fucking plow broke again!" The shout was followed by a bottle smashing against the wall after flying barely past the kid's face.

SMASH

The boy felt his chest tighten and took a breath before turning the corner to face his father. The man looked like a typical middle-aged farmer- dark, tanned skin, a gruff beard, and a face riddled with sunspots.

"I'm sorry. Want to me to help fix it tomorrow?"

"Nah, no need now. Got your poor ma to help me out. 's all in the past. But ya can take this here and go get me some more booze from the Ackerlands." The older man handed off a strange leaf after taking it out of his pockets.

The child received it and inspected it casually before pocketing it. The leaf was a strange off-white color and had sporadic, jagged edges all around its circumference.

"Dave'll know what to do. You're a big kid now, Saiph. 9 now, is it? Only two more years until you can follow in your sister's footsteps. Your sister is the hope of us Glendoveers, ya know? She's the one who'll bring us to greatness one day. But jus' in case, ya gotta get into the Academy too, Saiph. Ya gotta take care of me and your ma, kid. Ya gotta. If-"

"Pa, I get it." Saiph interrupted his father's drunken ramblings. "I gotta go to the Ackermans' place, yeah?"

"And get my scotch! Like I said, you're a big kid now, Saiph, so you gotta do these things for your old man. You know-"

"Pa."

"Alright, kiddo, hurry home."

Saiph nodded and hurried out of the house, glad that he got out of the scenario without too harsh of a punishment. He considered taking his time a bit but hurriedly decided against it, lest he incur his father's wrath.

Thus the young Saiph started jogging down the poorly-lit dirt path interwoven between the bulging hills. He roughly knew of where his destination was but hadn't been there in a few months.

Dave Ackerman was something of a family friend. He and Saiph's dad would usually meet up a few times a week, but Saiph himself seldom came with. He did wonder what his dad and Mr. Ackerman would do that often, but the few times he had brought it up his dad has quickly shut him down, so Saiph still didn't know after all these years.

While jogging down the path, Saiph often tripped or stumbled due to the poor lighting and steep slopes ever-present in the fields. There were only stars in the sky here, so no radiant moon to illuminate the ground led to some issues for Saiph. He had once heard in passing that the human hub of the Tower, Veritate, had a plethora of massive moons all competing for space in the day and night sky alike, but Saiph himself would have to travel there himself to confirm such rumors in two years, something he very much looked forward to seeing.

The lone figure reached his destination after about 20 minutes. There was a dim light radiating out from one of the windows of the house, catching Saiph's eye and drawing him over. After confirming that this indeed was his destination, Saiph knocked lightly on the front door. His wait soon ended once the door opened partially and a soft, feminine voice called out from behind it.

"Who goes there?"

Saiph was confused as he did not recall there being a woman under the age of 35 in the house, but quickly shook it off and muttered, "I, um, I'm here for my pa…"

"What was that?" the soft voice asked.

Saiph cleared his throat and announced, "I have my pa's leaf for Mr. Ackerman."

"Ohh… okay. I'll get my daddy for you." The door closed and Saiph heard faint footsteps moving away from him.

After a moment, the door opened fully and Saiph saw a middle-aged man carrying a basket full of liquor bottles step through the doorway while announcing his presence.

"Heya, Saiph. Ya out doing your old man's chores these days?"

"Um, no- no sir. This is the first time my pa has asked me to do something like this." Saiph wasn't quite used to direct contact with adults other than his parents and worried slightly that he would make a fool of himself.

"Aheh, yeah I suppose so. It's about time ya grew up a bit and started doing adult work. How old are you now ya now?"

Saiph was quite confused why being an errand boy would be 'adult work' but responded to the man's question.

"I'm 9, sir."

Mr. Ackerman smiled slightly and held out his hand.

"All right, kid. Enough chit-chat. Where's the leaf?"

"Oh, uh… It's right here," Saiph responded while pulling the leaf out of his pocket.

The man received the leaf and took a deep whiff. He frowned slightly and turned around so he could hold it up to the faint candlelight from inside the house.

"Did ya hafta carry it in your damned pocket…?" he asked with a slightly dejected tone.

"Um, did I do something bad?" Saiph asked. He was quite worried that he had messed things up on his first go, even though he had seen his father take it out of his pocket in the first place, on top of watching Saiph put it in his pocket as well. His chest tightened slightly and a faint sense of trepidation crept into his psyche.

"You stupid fucking brat." Mr. Ackerland spat and slapped Saiph hard across his left cheek. The child tumbled backward and fell down onto the ground while instinctively moving his hand to soothe his cheek.

"Tell your dad to never pull this shit on me again. Do it to someone else. Now get the fuck out of here. I swear to the Heavens above if he wants to waste profit and stupid shit like this again I'm cutting him off." The harsh words coming from the man's mouth were finally ended by the slamming of the front door.

Saiph laid still momentarily before tearing up and bawling.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He heard faint shouting from inside the house and hurriedly scampered away while grasping his now-swollen cheek. He didn't even bother to check if Mr. Ackerman had left him any scotch to bring back to his father.

It hurt. His cheek felt like it was bursting at the seams. Saiph was sure that there would be a horrendous hand-shaped bruise branded to his face for the next few days but didn't care, because it hurt.

Saiph was bolting away from the house as fast as he could but the tears in his vision on top of the dim night sky forced a misjudgment of the terrain, causing the child to trip and slam hard into the ground. He could feel two abrasions rip into his skin- one at the knee, the other his elbow.

Anguish and despair reaped Saiph's soul and took over his being. He considered just jumping off a cliff and ending his miserable existence then and there.

"No, no, no! I am going to reach the top of this cursed place and see the stars for myself!" The lone child screamed into the night.

Saiph bit his tongue and consciously took off some of the pressure from his teeth, lest he cracked them from biting down so hard. He tried to focus a bit and vaguely knew of where the river that ran through the valley was. He impatiently bolted towards it, dreaming of the cool pleasure it could exert on his screaming wounds.

After a slightly treacherous journey and a few more scrapes and bruises, Saiph leapt into the cool river water fully clothed. The river worked its miracles and Saiph felt much better as a result, but the two deep gashes he had and blistering contusion on his face still burned, just not as much.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. Saiph wanted to give up- close his eyes and never wake up. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. That would mean his dad would win. In a moment of clarity, Saiph perceived what had transpired tonight and felt the fire of anger burn in his heart.

His dad had set him up. What 'without too harsh of a punishment'? His dad was clearly furious with him and just didn't want to beat him himself.

Saiph sighed and submerged his face into the water after taking a deep breath.

His dad had known that carrying that leaf around in a pocket would ruin it. There's no way he wouldn't.

Saiph growled while underwater.

His dad must have realized that incurring even more of Saiph's ire now would be pointless, for he was moving on to the Academy soon, potentially, and would bring his father benefits with that transition.

That must have been an idea he had while he was sober, though. If he was hammered he wouldn't have the foresight to care about that.

Saiph felt a wave of exhaustion overcome him and gradually crawled out of the river. He tried to look around for something to lay up against to no avail, so he just fell over on the sandbank.

It hurt. Most of his skin where he was slapped could have easily been dead as far as he knew. Saiph wasn't used to such cruelty even from his own father. Still, the power of exhaustion overruled the pain in this scenario and Saiph felt his mind wander in and out of consciousness like a deranged, twisted fever dream, back and forth between agony and nothing and agony and nothing and then, suddenly, it was dawn.

Saiph gulped slightly and felt a raw scratch at the back of his throat and tongue. He rolled over and slowly got up like a rusted golem before waddling back over to the river, falling in face-first. The exhausted child inhaled the water, some of which went to his lungs, some to his stomach.

A few sputtering and coughing fits later, Saiph was out of the water and back on the road home. He wasn't sure if his father was going to punish him any more than he already had, but he was starving and wanted his face tended to by someone.

The child reached his destination and entered the house without knocking or a word. He walked inside, walked past his father who seemingly hadn't moved overnight, and went straight to his parents' room.

"Ma?" he called through the door.

"Yes, honey?" A voice responded through.

"Hey, don't go bothering your mother after what you made her do yesterday," Saiph's father interjected.

"I hurt my face last night. Can you take a look at it?" Saiph said, ignoring the protest.

"Of course, sweetheart. Come in."

Saiph slowly opened the door and saw his mother lying in the bed with a blanket partially covering her. His parents' room wasn't decorated at all, it was really just a single bed and a window.

The boy walked up to his mother and hugged her tightly.

"It's okay, sweetie. Just don't be so late next time and this won't happen again." His mother said while reciprocating the hug.

"I won't, Ma. I won't."

"Now let me see what happened."

Saiph let go and let his mother inspect his face.

"You got hit pretty hard, huh? Well, it'll be okay. You Gotta Stay Positive. Just don't get into any fights with the neighbors and you'll be fine. Ahaha." She chuckled slightly at her own joke. There were no kids around Saiph's age within walking distance.

"Thanks, Ma." Saiph walked out of the room and started to head towards his own.

"Oi, kid, where do you think you're going? We have a long day ahead of us. Go get your tools."

Saiph froze up and then sighed wistfully.

"Only a couple more weeks," he muttered to himself before turning to his dad and replying, "On it."