A rgon fondly dragged a brown rag down the blade of his short sword, cleaning it one last time before sliding it into the leather scabbard. He savoured the weariness in his arms after the vigorous workout. If he were permitted, he would stay in the backyard all day and practice with his sword. He loved the feel it made as it reached its apex then swung around as if a thousand horses pulled it.

But today was the last day of his study sessions and he had to collect his report. He had completed ten years of education at the nearby study hall and would soon begin his trade. His brothers wanted him to become a wainwright and join them in their business. As the youngest of the family, he felt obligated to do so, but Argon also had his own ideas. Since he was young, he had dreamed of enlisting with the Royal Army. Although the majority of the soldiers were human, dwarves made up a large portion, even those shorter than he. Height was not as important as skill.

Argon made his way across the yard and entered a building through the backdoor. The bottom floor was where his parents’ place of business, the Forest Bakery and Herb Shop, was located. His father, Gaven, older sister, Molly, and grandmother, Veneashia, were already in the kitchen baking bread for the day’s customers. He dwelled with his parents and two of his sisters on the second floor. The smell of morning ration filled his nose and he took the flight of stairs two at a time, following the aroma.

“I wondered when you were going to put that thing away and come in to eat.” His mother had watched him out the window as she prepared the ration.

Argon smiled, grabbed a biscuit and pulled a chair up to the table. His sisters, Kendra and Loran, were already seated. They had both finished their studies more than two years ago and were apprentices at the nearby dress shop. They often talked about opening their own shop some day.

“After today, you won’t have time to play with that silly sword,” said Kendra. “You’ll have to work like the rest of us.”

“My sword is not silly,” Argon defended. “And I already work. Don’t I, Mom?” Every day, he stocked shelves and ran orders for the family’s shop.

Mavie Winsby slid the bacon and eggs from the pan and onto Argon’s plate. “Of course. He is my best helper.”

His sisters giggled.

“Worker,” Argon corrected.

“That’s right, dear.” Mavie looked at her daughters. “He certainly does more work around the shop than you two did. You both were too busy staring at the boys. Now, you better hurry or you’ll be late. Ole Miss Purdy frowns on tardiness.”

Argon made a face at his sisters and plucked two pieces of toast off the tray in the center of the table. He broke the soft yolk of the egg on his plate and dipped a corner of the toast into the yellow liquid. His mother made the best rations.

Everyone listened when footsteps were heard on the stairs. Argon’s brothers, Joris and Edvard walked in and took seats around the table.

“Have you eaten, boys?” Mavie kissed each of her sons on the top of their heads. When they answered no, she added more bacon and eggs to the pan. It was nice having five of her seven children under the same roof if only for a short time. They were so busy these days with their own lives they seldom had time to come together for a ration.

“We came to see our future employee on his last day at the study hall,” said Joris.

Edvard, grabbed a piece of toast. “We expect you at the shop bright and early tomorrow,” he said.

Argon swallowed the yolk-soaked toast. He hadn’t committed himself to being a wainwright nor a wheelwright, the profession of his grandfather. Even he wanted Argon to work with him. Personally, he didn’t want to leave his parents shorthanded and had previously used that as an excuse for not accepting the other positions. “I might be a little late,” he mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

“Late!” Edvard pretended to exclaim. “The boy wants to be fired the first day.”

“Leave him,” their mother interrupted. “Argon is attending the celebrations tonight. I remember you boys going to your end of study celebrations. You didn’t arrive home ‘til morning.”

Edvard and Joris jostled each other back and forth.

“Remember Lily? Your date? She left with Gilson. I guess you weren’t her type,” joked Edvard.

“And you faired better with Sally? Seems to me she was a little bossy.” Joris rustled his hair.

“Now, now. No wrestling at the table,” said their mother.

“All right,” said Edvard, “you can be late tomorrow, but you’ll have to work twice as hard.” Joris laughed with his brother.

“And we better go,” said Loran. She and Kendra jumped up from the table. “Miss Purdy will be watching for us.”

Kendra grabbed one last piece of toast. “If we are late, she’ll be reminding us all day how important it is to be punctual.” She followed her sister down the stairs and to the outside.

“So, Argon, who are you taking to the celebrations?” Joris asked.

“I bet it’s that girl who comes into the bakery looking for that special cookie,” Edvard volunteered. “And you’re the cookie.”

Argon felt his face flush, but didn’t want to let his brothers get the best of him. Breckin Dole was a friend. She had started her education the same year as Argon, but was two years older. He thought she was beautiful, but she would never want to see him outside of school. “I don’t need a date. Torin and I might not even go. We might have better things to do.”

“Torin’s your date?” laughed Joris. “If that’s the case, I wouldn’t kiss him on the first outing.”

“Boys, leave Argon alone,” Mavie lovingly smacked Joris on the shoulder. “Argon is young yet and if he doesn’t want to go with a girl, he doesn’t have to. He’s not like both of you, dragging every girl from school through the door. Look at both you, you still haven’t united and I’m sure you have dated more than half the women dwelling in Maskil as well as a few strays.”

Argon looked down at his food. He knew his brothers were kidding, but did they always have to bug him about girls? They weren’t the most important thing in the world; swords were.

Edvard and Joris eagerly ate the ration their mother prepared. They wished they could visit every morning to enjoy it, but business had just begun to pick up and they wanted to be at the wagon shop early each day. When they finished, they washed down the food with a cup of tea.

“Have a good day at study hall,” said Edvard. He swatted his little brother on the shoulder as he passed.

“And good luck on your no-date with Torin.” Joris leaned into Argon’s ear and whispered so his mother could not hear, “I really don’t think he’s your type.”

Argon swung his arm to strike his brother, but Joris moved quickly to avoid being hit. He and Edvard laughed as they kissed their mother good-bye and went downstairs.

“Don’t listen to them, dear,” said Mavie. “There is plenty of time for girls. Those two were girl crazy - still are.” She cleaned the dishes from the table and prepared to wash them.

“I know, Mom.” Argon finished his breakfast and sat quietly for a moment. He wanted to tell her again that he wanted to enlist with the army, but each time he had before, she always looked concerned and he decided to put it off until later. “Mom,” he said softly.

“Yes, dear,”

“Would you be upset if I didn’t become a wainwright with Joris and Edvard?”

Mavie stopped washing the dishes. She knew what he was going to say. He had said it before and each time he did, dread filled her heart. “Did you want to join your grandfather making wagon wheels?” She hoped so, but knew it was futile.

“No,” he said.

“Do you plan on staying on at the bakery? We need another full-time worker. Your father and I are not getting any younger.”

“Mom.” Argon left the table and leaned on the counter next to her. “Mom, I want to enlist. It has been my dream.”

“Argon, you are so young,” his mother sighed. “Why don’t you wait until you’re older?”

“Would that make you happy?” He didn’t want to disappoint her. She was everything to him. He respected her opinion.

“Being a soldier is dangerous work. I would prefer it if you left that job to someone more experienced.” It seemed like she had been trying to talk her son out of this profession since he was a toddler.

“I can’t become experienced unless I complete the training. No one can. But I’m good with the sword, Mom. You know that. I practice every day. And I’m strong. And fast.”

“Argon, I’m just not sure how I would cope if you were . . .”

“Mom, I’ve grown up. You can’t protect me forever.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. “You taught me to always do what I believed in. I believe I can do this. It’s what I’ve always wanted. You know that.”

Mavie hugged her son. He was right, but she wished he was wrong. She kissed his cheek and smiled at him. “I know you are wise and strong. I know you would be the best soldier the castle ever had.”

A wave of relief flowed over Argon. She was going to agree with him. Wasn’t she?

“But you’re my baby.” She watched as he rolled his eyes. He would always be her baby, but sadly he was right. He was a man now. He was already taller than his father. Taller than his older brothers. “Argon, promise me one thing.” She studied his eyes, looking for the courage to grant his heart’s desire. “Promise me you will wait until the next waning moon to enlist. During this time, I want you to learn more about what is expected of a full-time soldier. I want you to think about the benefits and the drawbacks. Once the time has passed,” she paused, “if you still feel this is what you want, then you have my blessing.”

Argon lifted his mother into the air and swung her around. “Thank you, Mom!” He set her down and hugged her tightly. “Thank you. I will not let you down. I gladly make that promise. I will keep it. You will see.”

Mavie couldn’t suppress the smile. She loved seeing her son happy even if it was because of something she feared. It was what he wanted. Deep inside, she hoped before the moon waned, he would be busy working with his brothers and not thinking about enlisting. “Don’t forget. Not until the next waning moon.”

“Yes, mom. I promise.” He ran to the top of the steps and looked back at his mother and thanked her again. Flying down the stairs, he was soon outside and on his way to the study hall. He couldn’t wait to tell Torin the great news.

The streets of Maskil were busy this time of day and Argon ran and wove his way from his dwelling to the study hall. Several groups of students mingled outside, but when Argon didn’t see his friend, he entered the building. Not looking where he was going, he bumped into a group of girls near the first classroom.

“Sorry. Sorry. Excuse me,” he quickly said. His gaze fell upon Breckin Dole and he couldn’t help but stare as he continued down the hall. When he tripped over a chair, Breckin and the other three girls giggled. A little embarrassed, Argon turned his attention to where he was going. A short distance away, he found Torin.

“Where have you been? The class is about to start.” Torin, a dwarf slightly shorter than Argon, had been his friend for many years. The two often hung out together outside of study hall where other teens also gathered.

“I have great news,” Argon could barely contain himself. “Mom has granted permission for me to enlist with the army.”

“That’s your great news?” Torin grumbled. “Why do you want to hang out with regimental thugs? What about all the things we planned to do? I won’t see you if you’re on the training grounds all day and half the night.”

Argon thought Torin would be happier for him. He knew Torin had other plans, but still, it was all Argon had talked about for years. Torin knew how he felt about becoming a soldier.

“Listen, we have more important things to do,” Torin whispered. “Some of our friends got a hold of a barrel of ale for tonight. They need us to help transport it to the celebration.”

Argon was surprised. He had never drunk ale before and didn’t think Torin had either.

“Are you going to help us with it?” Torin asked.

Not wanting to sound like a regimental thug, Argon agreed. He hoped they wouldn’t get caught. It might look bad when he enlisted. He quickly turned when he heard Breckin’s voice. Years ago, they often played together, but in the past couple, she was preoccupied with her girlfriends and other boys. She seldom said anything to Argon, just smiled and winked now and again.

“The Scintillate Theatre is begging me to join them,” Breckin said aloud as she and her friends walked down the hall past Argon and Torin. “They are afraid I might consider the Kelip Theatre at Callaw.”

“I’m sure you’ll pass their examination,” said one of her friends. “You’re the best actor in study hall.”

“Pass?” quipped Breckin. “I’m a shoe-in.”

Argon smiled at Breckin. Her brown hair flowed over her shoulders and halfway down her back. He noticed her lips were painted with soft pink lipstick and her shirt was pulled tight across her chest revealing every curve. He had tried several times to ask her to accompany him to the theatre, but his tongue had always made him feel like a fool. He would give anything to attend the evening celebrations with her.

“Snap out of it, lover boy,” Torin pushed Argon on the shoulder.

The girls giggled as Argon lost his balance and crashed into the wall. He jumped up, glaring at Torin. “What’d you do that for?”

“Hey, Argon, can I talk with you a moment?” Breckin waved at her friends to continue on without her.

“Me? Ah, yes. Of course,” he stumbled over the words as if he were scraping his knees on rocks.

“Alone.” Breckin stared at Torin to see if he would get the hint. When he didn’t, she said, “Torin, be a nice fellow and get lost.”

Torin frowned at the girl, but when he didn’t get any help from Argon, he decided to leave. “I’ll meet you in the main hall,” he grumbled.

Argon nodded at him and watched him leave as if he could gather courage from it. When he felt Breckin’s hands gently direct him into a corner, he caught his breath and looked at her.

“Argon,” she whispered. “We’ve been friends for along time.”

“We have,” he agreed. “Years.” He wished he hadn’t worn his shirt with the long sleeves. The study hall was warm today.

“Do you have a date for this evening? I know it’s short notice, but I seem to be without one. I was wondering if you would do me the honour of accompanying me to the celebrations?” Breckin leaned close to his face until Argon felt her sweet breath upon his cheek.

Argon’s mind tumbled into a haze. His dream was coming true. The girl he had loved for years wanted to go to the celebrations with him.

“Well,” she whispered, her lips so close to his cheek he could have sworn they touched it. “Can I go with you?”

“Yes,” his voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. “Yes, I would love to go with you.”

“Wonderful,” she breathed, giving him some space. “I’ll expect you at eight then.” She winked one of her long dark eyelashes at him then ran to catch up with her friends down the hall. They giggled as she barged into their circle.

Still in a haze of wild excitement, Argon watched her bound down the hall. He hadn’t been that close to Breckin since they crashed into the creek bed as they slid down a mud slide. Her smell had changed since then. Instead of soggy dirt, she smelled of wildflowers on a hot spring afternoon. Maybe his brother was right and Breckin visited the bakery because he worked there. This was turning out to be the best day in his life. Not only did he have his mother’s permission to enlist, but the girl of his dreams was going to the evening celebrations with him.

Two boys walked by and looked at him strangely. Argon quickly wiped the smile from his face and nodded at them. After they passed, he gave himself a shake to loosen the muscles that had tightened when Breckin was near. Then he headed off to find Torin. His friend would never believe who he was attending the celebrations with tonight.

But Torin wasn’t happy for him. Instead, he complained that Argon and he had planned to attend together. How was he going to help get the ale to the celebrations if he was escorting Miss Prissy Pants?

“Don’t call her that,” said Argon. Torin always called Breckin that and he didn’t understand why. Was he jealous because Breckin had given him more of her attention over the years?

“Defending her already?” Torin spat. “The woman is poyson. If I were you, I wouldn’t take her.”

“You’re not me and I am taking her.” Argon crossed his arms as he listened to the closing ceremonies. They would soon be handed their reports and be on their way home.

“Fine with me,” Torin growled. “Just remember that I told you so. She’s poyson and will only make a fool out of you.”

“You’re just jealous,” said Argon, not looking at his best friend.

Torin chuckled. He wasn’t jealous of that torril who loved to show-off and snub everyone around her. He was upset because Argon was bailing on him this late in the plans. They had talked about the final celebrations for months and now everything was changing. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could find a girl to go with him, but he didn’t have the nerve to ask anyone. It had always been an unwritten rule; guys stuck together.

    * * *

Argon smiled as he clanked mugs with Breckin. She held the drink to her lips and drank down the last of the ale. Argon mimicked her movements, not wanting to feel inferior. Placing the empty mug on the table, it was promptly filled again by one of Breckin’s friends. In the three hours since arriving at Collin’s Recreation and Conference Hall, it felt as if his mug was never empty.

At the start of the evening, Argon enjoyed the banquet-style feast set out for the students and their guests. A little awkward at first, he ate his fill while trying to come up with intelligent things to say. Breckin always smiled and laughed at his attempts at making a joke, sometimes placing her hand on his forearm or shoulder. They were seated with her friends at a large table near the front. The few times he caught a glimpse of Torin, he was with a few of their friends. Argon smiled and attempted to ease the tension between them, but Torin simply looked away. Tomorrow, Argon thought, he would go to Torin’s dwelling and talk with him. They were good friends for too long to let this come between them.

After the food disappeared, the dance began. Argon was clumsy on his feet, but Breckin didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she giggled each time he made a mistake and threw her arms around him. He enjoyed the contact and after a few drinks of ale began to anticipate the hugs after every mistake. Once he thought she was going to kiss him right there on the dance floor, but she didn’t.

Now, looking at the full mug of ale, Argon sighed. It had been over an hour - or four mugs, however, you wanted to measure it - since their last dance. Each time he asked Breckin to dance, she giggled and said, ‘maybe the next one. I’m talking with my friends.’

Trying again, Argon leaned into Breckin’s ear and whispered, “would you like to dance?” Losing his balance, she caught him before he slipped from his chair.

“Maybe we should get some fresh air instead,” she said, smiling back at her friends.

When Argon stood, he became light-headed and would have fallen if it weren’t for Breckin holding him up. She positioned herself under his arm and wrapped her arm around his waist. “We’ll just go for a slow stroll through the garden to walk off some of the ale,” she said. To her  friends, she added, “we’ll be back in awhile. We need a little quiet time together.”

Argon liked the sound of that. He had been thinking about some alone time with Breckin all night. He also thought about getting away from that mug that kept filling with ale. As he fumbled his way from the hall, he realized he had drank far too much for his first time.

Following his date’s lead, Argon made his way down the few steps of the building and into the backyard where a lush garden grew. He had been here a few times in the past, but never with the girl of his dreams. His senses were somewhat revived by the fresh evening air, but not to the point where he trusted himself to run up a flight of stairs.

Breckin closed the garden gate behind them and led Argon along the path to the fountain. The warm breeze pushed her hair away from her face and he watched her, unbelieving any of the things that were happening. The drinks of ale made him unsure of his balance and he tried to walk straighter, so she wouldn’t see its effects. She was an experienced drinker and he didn’t want to look like he couldn’t handle his spirits.

Once at the fountain, Breckin plopped down on the garden bench and guided him to her side. He gladly sat, anxious to talk. As he tried to think of something intelligent to say, she wrapped her fingers around his hands.

“I’m nervous, too,” she said bashfully.

“Really?” he said, surprised. He thought she had been on many dates before and would be more experienced than him.

She giggled. “It’s just that I really like you, Argon.” Looking into his eyes, she slowly leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

Argon thought he would melt. He tried to return the kiss, but bumped into her chin. Was it the ale or was he truly awkward around girls? “Sorry about that.” He could feel his face flush and was glad dusk had stolen the light, so she couldn’t see.

She giggled again and said, “that’s okay. Let me help.” She held his chin still and kissed his mouth. With her free hand, she held the front of his shirt, so he couldn’t pull away.

By the time they separated, Argon was out of breath. His first kiss. It had come so fast he didn’t have time to think about how to hold his lips. He must have been good though from the look on Breckin’s face. Feeling a little more confident, he slid closer and put his arm around her shoulders.

“I was thinking,” he started, “we should meet tomorrow for the mid-day ration. I have some money saved. We can go the Hot Pot.”

“That sounds great,” she said. “But my mother wants me to help in the garden tomorrow.”

“I could help.” He sounded too eager. But what was wrong with letting his girl know he liked her. His girl. It had a nice ring. “I mean, I would love to help.” He leaned forward and smelled her neck. It was like a thousand roses had kissed it.

“Well, we’ll talk about that later.” She felt his head fall and asked, “you’re not falling asleep on me, are you? Maybe you drank too much ale.”

Argon sat up straight. He wasn’t going to let the ale ruin his first date with his girl. “No,” he said. “I was just smelling your neck.” He bit his lip. He didn’t mean to say that.

Breckin giggled and directed his face into her neck. “Well, then, smell away.” She kissed the top of his head as she ran her fingers through his dark blond hair. Then, with one hand, she fumbled with a button on the front of his shirt.

Before Argon realized what was happening, the front of his shirt was open and her hands were beneath it, caressing his bare chest.

Her hands sent shivers through his body and unfamiliar feelings surfaced. Before he could say anything, she closed her mouth over his and kissed his lips hard. He held her tight, so the ale and the flood of sensations wouldn’t topple him over. When he felt her hand on the button of his trousers, he gasped, but she held him firm.

Finally, she moved her lips to his neck and busied herself with trying to pull his zipper down the full length.

“Maybe we should take this slow,” Argon stammered feeling a little unsure if he could do the things her hands suggested.

“I’m not slow with anything.” She massaged his chest with her lips, sending messages to forbidden places. “Not with numbers. Not with reading or languages. And certainly not with you, Argon.” She filled his mouth with her hot tongue.

He gasped for air, as she roughly explored his mouth in places a tooth brush seldom wandered. Feeling his trousers slip to his thighs, he gathered his courage to be the man Breckin wanted. After all, he was 18 and had dreamed many times of a night like this with his girl.

“May I?” she asked, breathing hot breath into his ear as she sensually caressed his bare hips.

Argon’s body trembled as much from the cool night air as at the prospect of joining with Breckin. Normally, the male would request permission, but she was a woman who obviously knew what she wanted: him. “You may,” he whispered, his breath stopping as her hand slipped to the inside of his thigh.

He stood when she gestured for him to do so and he realized his boots were already off. The cool breeze whispered around his bare legs as he heard his trousers hit the ground. There was no turning back now. His hands awkwardly searched for her dress zipper, but try as he may, he couldn’t find it. He had undressed girls in his mind, but Breckin was the real thing. What would she think if he had to ask where the zipper was located?

The wood was cold on his skin as he sat back down on the bench. He allowed her to push his shirt off his shoulders. He wrapped one arm around her, pulling her close as he gently cupped her breast with the other. It was firm and the nipple pressed into his palm. He was surprised by how much he could feel through her dress. Sliding his hand down to her thigh, he wondered if this was an ‘over the head’ dress. If it was, she would be naked in seconds.

As he fumbled with the hem of the dress, Argon heard Breckin giggle. He paused. Was it his imagination or was he hearing others giggle, as well?

Argon pulled away from Breckin and through hazy eyes, stared at the faces surrounding them in the garden. His eyes focussed and he could see they were his fellow students, watching and laughing. They began to clap and holler. He watched as Breckin slipped from his arms, stood in front of the crowd and bowed.

Confused and still in an excited daze, he tried to make out what the voices were saying.

“You are amazing!” one shouted.

“You’re certainly going to make the theatre when they hear about this piece of acting! Turning a boy into a man before our very eyes! And then into a fool!” The crowd roared with laughter.

Argon swallowed hard. It was an act? Breckin had made a fool of him? She couldn’t have. She loved him. Didn’t she?

“Argon, chilly out tonight?” someone shouted.

Argon remembered he was naked. The agony of the prank found a home in his heart and he stumbled about gathering his belongings. The ale made him stagger and he dropped his boots twice before he got a secure hold on them. Not looking back at Breckin or the once hidden audience, Argon made a dash for the trees behind the fountain. He ran blinding for several minutes before tripping over something in the dark and rolling beneath a bush.

Evergreen needles and twigs dug into his bare skin, but he ignored them. Instead, he wallowed in the pain from within and the ache grew until he felt it would crush his ribs. Though he didn’t want them to, tears filled his eyes as the realization of what happened exploded in his mind. He would never trust another the way he had trusted Breckin. Was every girl ready to betray his trust as easily as she did?

Suddenly, he forced himself to his knees. He would run away, far away. He would go to Flasten, maybe onto Garabed. He would lose himself in strangers, so he wouldn’t have to face those who had witnessed his shame. He grabbed his clothes and forced them over his skin. Never again would he allow a girl to possess him and poyson his mind. He shoved his boots on and stood, tucking his shirt into his trousers. He would slice off the next hand that tried to unfasten them.

Argon staggered into the darkness, caring not where he went. After hours of wandering, he finally collapsed on a wooden bench near a store front. Exhausted and still suffering from the effects of too much ale, he lay on his back wishing he could erase this night from his memory. He allowed sleep to consume him not giving a damn if he ever woke.

Several hours later, Argon’s senses began to feel again. His head ached and he became aware of someone shaking his shoulder.

“Hey, you can’t sleep here,” said the distant voice. “Up and outta here.”

Argon forced his eyes open and the bright sun made him cover them again with his hand.

“Hey, kid, you gotta move before the Serg (Sarge) gets here.”

Argon sat up, shook his head and looked around. “I’m up. I’m up,” he said in a dry voice.

“Good.” The voice paused then said, “kid, you don’t look so good. Maybe you should get along home.”

Argon waved him away. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.” He looked up to see a corporal with the Royal Army standing over him. The human was dressed in a perfectly pressed blue uniform with a small yellow badge on the lapel. A short sword in a scabbard hung by his side.

“I will leave you as you are then.” The soldier turned sharply and entered the door next to the bench.

Argon stood and held himself steady as he stared up at the recruiting office sign.

We only take the best. Come on in.

A slight breeze rustled his dark blond hair and brought a refreshing breath of air into his lungs. This is where he belonged. Somehow, some way, fate had delivered him to the threshold. All he had to do was cross it.

~ The End ~