40 Kindred Spirits

The absence of Rod at lunch made it painfully obvious where he was. Jacob's superiors would have their hands full with the do-gooder. Jacob smiled at that – the irritation of those military brass – as he wiped his hands into a cloth. The food they offered at the mess hall was terrible, but at least it wasn't all that messy. Jacob hated wasting mana on conjuring a water orb with which to clean his hands. Unfortunately for the general cleanliness of the military, most of the common-born soldiers didn't care much for smelling good or the like. The mages did, but then they lived in separate quarters.

Will had once spoken of how Delreya was better than places like Yoru because the common person had more equality with the mages. True as that may be, society was far from equality, even in terms of the modern Earth. Not even the five captains, each overseeing a fifth of the Fourth Infantry, had their own quarters at the fortification watching over Writha Pass. The mages, composing their own unit, each had their own rooms, no matter their rank. The lowliest mage lieutenant was favored over the captains, a shame in and of itself.

The military men knew not to display their feelings of injustice, their long careers having taught them that lesson. Jacob felt for them, but then they never showed him any mercy for his mandated servitude. The pity died that instant. Familiar soldiers, men from his platoon, walked around the mess hall, laughing among themselves. A brief flash of jealousy enveloped Jacob's heart, but he quelled it. Being friends with scum such as them, people who ignored the plight of others, was a friendship he didn't want. Rod was a good enough friend, and that connection was enough for Jacob. Once he was free, he could try to find a way home, to a place where he could just make friends with people over a shared bond of favorite TV show.

Jacob struggled to remember the last episode of his favorite show, lost in his thoughts as a small soldier walked up and bonked him on the head. "What's for food today?" Rod asked, peeking into Jacob's vision. Smiling at the boy's antics, Jacob motioned for him to sit.

"It's potatoes again, but we must've gotten a shipment of meat because they had some sausage," Jacob informed the suddenly salivating Rod. If positions were reversed, Jacob would be doing the same. But they weren't, and so Jacob took the opportunity to laugh at the embarrassed soldier.

When Rod next returned to the table, a tray laden with food in hand, Jacob questioned him about his home again. For as long as he'd known the boy, he'd been asking him about his origins. As if it were some great secret, Rod refused. Then, in an act of great hypocrisy, the boy turned right around and asked Jacob's. Ever since, they had made a game of this interrogation, seeing which would break first.

Tiredly, Rod sighed, swallowing a bite of potato. "Alright, fine, you win. I'll only tell if you do," Rod said, looking Jacob in the eyes, scanning for any hint of deception. Jacob, too well-versed in the art of lying to others and himself, all to avoid being burnt, lied without the boy detecting it. While he didn't necessarily want to lie, who would believe him when he said he came from another world entirely?

"My village, a small thing by Riverbank, was home to maybe fifteen families at any given time. It was a small community, and we rarely ever got travelers. One time, though, a wandering doctor visited us. Offering his skills, he got most of us to take this tonic, promising that it would render us immune to sickness," Rod said, his hands trembling as he relayed his story. "The bastard fed us poison. Once we were all asleep, bandits raided our homes and our farms, taking whatever they fancied. For the few of us that were awake, only death awaited them. When my family and I woke up again, my dad was dead and our home ransacked." Tears welled in Rod's downcast eyes. He finished the rest of his story in a whisper. "I had to join the military to get enough coin to send back home. Fifty coppers isn't a lot for a month, but it's enough to put food on the table. A military runner delivers it every two months."

Jacob crossed over to the other side of the table, wrapping an arm around the crying boy's shoulders. While he suspected that his origins were far from normal, hence his secrecy, Jacob didn't think Rod would have such a tragic background. It reminded him of what happened in Leafburrow. No matter where you went in this world, Death was never further than an arm's reach away.

"Do you remember the doctor's face?" Jacob asked softly.

"His eyes were beady like a rat's, and he was smaller than most people. Smaller than even me. He had the darkest hair I've ever seen in a Delreyan." The description tugged at Jacob, but he just couldn't place the description on anyone he'd ever met.

"I'm sorry, Rod. That's what happened to my home, too," Jacob said, calmly telling Rod what had happened in Leafburrow so long ago. Together, the kindred spirits talked, letting their anguish over their respective tragedies out. The other soldiers in the hall couldn't be bothered, and they left the social outcasts alone. Jacob was thankful for their disdain for the first time in his life.

When their tears dried up, Rod returned to the barracks to get some sleep before their next shift the following day. Jacob wandered up the ramparts of the fortress instead. As always, the three moons and the millions of stars illuminated the night sky. The one thing that had never changed was how wondrous that sight was, and Jacob greedily drank every sight of it up. Who knew when even that small comfort would be taken from him?