Dawn & Dusk, Falcon's Fall[Flashback Solo]

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Season of Spring, Day 40, 504 AV

Jonathon smiled brightly at the roof of the apartment. He was once again the second to awake; he knew his mother to be up already, there was no outwaking her on a hunting day. But it had become a game to get up earlier than Father. The 14-year-old leapt out of bed, dressing quickly into light clothing; it was starting to get warmer. Father and Mother's bed had only Father in it, of course, as far as he could tell: it was pitch- black in the apartment. They had failed to get the windowed apartment they wanted so much.

Jonathon opened the door into the hallway, bringing in a rush of torchlight from the corridor outside. Jonathon snagged a torch from next to the doorway, on the inside of the house, lit it, and attached it to a hook next to the door. There. Enough light to do things by, but not enough to wake someone up.

Jonathon checked the wall, right above th dresser. The hooks that usually held Mother's bow and arrows, knife, and knapsack were empty, covered only in the soft glow from the torch. Jonathon smiled brightly to himself; Mother had gone out. Now they would get a good supply of fresh meat for the first time this spring. Rushing down the corridor, he set off for where he hoped she would be.

Jonathon was right; Mother was in the place she always waited at for her hunting party. They always assembled at that spot; at least, when Mother took charge. Many a time had there been when Mother had to go meet in some seedy tavern or by the city gates. Jonathon waved brightly at Mother, but she took no notice for a second; her eyes were downcast and thoughtful.

She finally noticed Jon's energetic waving; her face swiveling towards him. Her mouth didn't smile, but her eyes did, and Jonathon always watched the eyes. Electric blue. Not like Jonathon's golden eyes; apparently those had come from his grandmother on his father's side. The red hair was from mother, though; deep crimson.

Jonathon walked, trying to contain his energy, to the spot where Mother leaned against the wall. For some reason, there was something about Mother that made being energetic and overenthusiatic impossible in her presence; like joy on the day of a funeral. Nice simile, there, Johnathon. Or a metaphor? Or something else? I should listen more in school. Mother was dressed in her hunting clothes; light, mobile clothing with some leather pieces interspaced throughout, protecting one shoulder, the thighs and upper legs, both forearms, and one piece on the left shin. It all looked ragtag and randomly dispersed, but Mother knew what she was doing with the armor she had. Mother's bow was in her hands, and she was always careful not to lean against her quiver.

Mother finally broke a smile at Jonathon. "Hello Jon... I see you woke up early. Again." The slightest hint of amusement broke into her voice. Jonathon grinned. "I try not to miss hunting days, Mother. After all, it's the first hunting day of the season." Which was odd. They had stockpiled so much meat during the winter that they needed none until practically halfway through spring. For some reason Mother worked best in the winter. Maybe she'd teach Jonathon that trick someday.

Mother's smile faded, and she was back to her melancholy. Mother hardly ever was serious and stately when talking directly to Jonathon, but she had an air of regality around her, something that affected all nearby, like she was a queen and all the men and women around her were her statesmen, her pages, her soldiers, her nobles... Affected all, but his father. He was the exception.

Mother spoke again. "You know, Jon, your getting good at the trade... you can shoot a bow better than the average 14 year old, and you're barely that." Jonathon straightend and smiled at the praise. "Maybe I'll take you along on one of these trips... Perhaps the next, or sometime in the fall." Jonathon nearly gasped in delight, but restrained himself. He pushed all his happiness into one shining smile. "Thanks, Mother." Mother seemed content with his reply, but perhaps a little sad, too. She was always a little sad.

For a while, they stood there, content to watch the morning start. Mother heaved a sigh as a pair of people, a man and a woman, strided up towards their spot. Even at this hour the streets were busy, but Jonathon easily picked them out as the hunters Mother would be going with. Mother's smile had gone, and only melancholy was apparent in her voice. "Jonathon... I may not be back for a while on this one. It's big. Huge, even. The stakes are high, but we can pull it off. But I'll be gone for a long time. I don't know how long... but don't expect me back for a while." She slipped something out of a pocket and into Jonathon's hands. Then she smiled one last, golden smile, and she was gone.

Jonathon watched as she met with the hunters, and they set off for the city gates. Jonathon stared a moment, then rushed off down a side alley. Twisting and turning through the light crowds, he found himself within minutes at the front gate. It was busy, but Jonathon could just make out her scarlet hair in the distance. Jonathon looked into his hand, still holding Mother's trinket. A glass pin, simple, yet refined. It was perfect, except for one little flaw in the middle.

"Bye Mom..." Jonathon grinned. Another hunting trip had begun. And maybe on the next one, Mother would take him along! How crazy was that? Jonathon rushed back to his apartment; Father would be waking up soon, and he didn't want to miss breakfast.

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Jonathon rushed back into his apartment, ran directly towards his nightstand, and slipped the trinket into a safe spot. The trinket symbolized Mother's promise for them hunting, in some obscure way. It was also the only thing Mother had ever given personally to him as a gift, and Jonathon didn't want to hurt it.

Jonathon looked around the room for the first time since entering it, and saw that father was already awake. His hair was very dark red, darker than dried blood, and lay down flat on his head. He emitted a sort of peaceful, scholarly air that was almost the exact opposite of his wife and Jonathon's mother. His face was turned away from Jonathon, observing the single torch lighting the room.

"Hmm... The wood they made this out of is rather strange... But it burns well. Intresting." Jonathon called Dad once, twice, thrice. When Father was intrested in something, it took a lot to bring him out. "Father, father... Father!" Jonathon's father jerked out of his trance. "Eh? Oh, Jon. Break out the food, would you? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" He grinned mischeviously.

Jonathon opened up the pantry and pulled out two hunks of bread, as well as 2 largish strips of meat. Him and his father gorged on the food. "Ah, Jonathon, did your mother say anything about when she would be back?" Jonathon shrugged. "She said something about it being a big hunting trip. Said it would take a while." Father grinned again. "I figured. First hunt for the season! It's gonna be big." Father ripped off a hunk of bread and stuffed it into his mouth. It took a while for him to chew it all down. "I hope she doesn't bite off more than she can chew, though..."

Jonathon's father had always been a bit worried about the dangers associated with Mother's job. Every other trip she came back with some new wound; a bit here, a deep scratch there. Sometimes she came back so wounded she had to stay in bed a day or two. Luckily Father was good at treating the average wound, although the doctors around Syliras were kept busy at our household...

Father finished off the last of his food. "Well, she'll be back someday. We'll just wait till then. I have to be getting to that accursed job of mine..." Father left the room, still munching his bread.

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Season of Spring, Day 49, 504 AV

Jonathon sat in apathy, staring at the opposite end of the room. A none-too-perceptive man might think the child was gazing at the door; they would be wrong. Jonathon stared at the section of wall beside it, where three hooks hung above a small dresser. The dresser's top drawer, still a bit open, was empty, like a nut cracked open for it's sustenance and left to rot as shards. That drawer used to contain hunting clothes; the hooks, bow, arrows, and knapsack.

Mother had been gone for nine days. The longest she'd ever been gone was three and a half, during last winter, when she was forced to hole up from the frost. Nine days was too long. Much too long.

The door to the apartment opened, and Jonathon's heart leapt into his throat with burning, radiant hope; but it was only Father, come back from work. He closed the door softly, making the only light cast from a torch to Jonathon's left. The shadows flickered across the walls as man and boy faced each other.

Father averted his eyes first. "Jonathon..." The voice had no tone to it, so different than his usual mischevious tone. "Jonathon. Don't... don't..." He sighed and lifted his green eyes back to Jonathon's unwavering gold ones. "Don't... lose it." Jonathon finally blinked. He had not expected this bit of advice, but Father always surprised him. "Don't... break it either. The trinket. Okay?" Jonathon's hand slowly lifted to the glass pendant around his neck.

Once again silence reigned. This time, it was Jonathon's eyes cast away, towards his neck, and Father's that shone through. "Don't break down. I know you can keep your cool. You may be a man, but you're more like your mother..." This also was a surprise. Until today, Jonathon always likened his attitude, carefree yet somehow with a focus and a purpose, to Father's nature. But it was his mother he always talked with, he always trained with. His father influenced him so little compared to her.

"So... Don't let it destroy you. Don't let your despair flood your mind, don't let it destroy your sanity, and most importantly, your soul. Without you, we both die." Father stood silently as Jonathon curled up against the wall of his bed, pendant in hand. And then, Father leaned against the dresser, slowly sank down... and rested his head in his hands.

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Season of Spring, Day 50, 504 AV

Jonathon sat in bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't see it. He couldn't see the hand in front of his face; the only source of light was a slight, low, and darkish flickering of a torch glowing from the crack between the door and the floor. It was the middle of the night, yet Jonathon could not sleep.

What was he going to do? He couldn't cope with this. He felt so inadequate... So much responsibility. He couldn't handle it. What could he do? He felt lost, he felt afraid, but worst of all, he felt hope. That flickering, lingering, tickling flame of tiny, inextinguishable hope down deep within him, telling him it will work out, Mother will come back, Father will pull himself together, it will all be all right.

Jonathon didn't believe the flame. It just added more to his misery.

He rolled onto his side, away from the door, and curled up beneath his blankets. Who am I? I am no one. I have no skills, but the ones Mother taught me. But I can't hunt! I'm too young. I couldn't hunt a mouse. I have no other helpful skills and talents; and the gods know my father won't be able to support the both of us. I will have to get a job. But how?

He felt the darkness, already all around him, start to invade his soul. Jonathon held it back, the only way he thought might work, to make himself feel adequate: "My name is Jonathon DuFraine. I am 14 years old. My mother is lost, dead, missing. My father is useless. I have only the skills of a hunter, but I have two hands unafraid of toil. I have the ability to make this right. I only must use it. My name is Jonathon DuFraine. I am..." Over and over he chanted, spinning the pendent between his fingers...

[Jonathon DuFraine]

Season of Spring, Day 50, 504 AV, Late Morning

Jonathon moved a bit in his chair. Around him, as if built to make him feel inadequate, was the spacious Employment Office. It was immaculate, and a smiling woman sat facing him. She always smiled. It didn't ease Jonathon much, though. He had seen that smile before, from grownups trying to look sympathetic and uplifting simultaneously and failing miserably.

"But, where are your parents, Jonathon?" Jonathon slowly placed a hand to his neck, rolling the pendent he found there between his fingers. "Dead. Dead, okay? Well, one is dead. I have to feed the other one... I need a job, and I don't care which one it is. Get me one." Jonathon couldn't make his voice very threatening, but it sounded all right, for a fourteen year old.

The woman bit her lip. "I... I believe I read somewhere there was a law against child labor or something..." Jonathon's eyes flashed. "Damn the laws! I have to get a job, and if you won't provide me with one, I'll be forced to turn to the darker side of this city." The receptionists' worried look smoothed. Whatever the knights had to say about child labor, it was better than a new criminal on the streets.

"You win kid. I'll see what I can find..."

~~~~~~
Season of Spring, Day 57, 504 AV, Late Afternoon

Jonathon blew a heavy sigh, standing outside his place of employment. In his hand were a few mizas, nothing much. But it just might pay for enough food for him and his father. Just... maybe.

Cheer up, Jonathon. You won't starve to death. Things will be all right. Jonathon had ignored this little optimistic voice since the day it dawned on Jonathon that Mother would not return. But now he listened to it's drivel.

It's a good day. Yes, indeed it was. Indeed it was. Jonathon stood watching the sun begin to set in the east, and he felt for the first time a modicum of peace enter his soul. It was a good day, today, and if he can live through the pain now he could forevermore.

Jonathon took a deep breath and fingered the pendent under his shirt... and put it back where it belonged.

~~~
FIN

[Templar]

Jonathon: Tracking: 2 – Observation: 2 – Rhetorics: 2 Lore: Breakfast, the most important meal of the day! – The pain of a missing mother – Calming one self – Determination – Additional Notes: Short and to the point. Good job! If you feel I was unfair with my xp award, feel free to contact me!