The Iron Badger

Chapter 1

The Snowstorm (Part 1)

A path that one starts may never finish as they find a fork in the middle of the road—"

—Tara, the daughter of Rye, Masa

1

Before there were wereboars... Before I learned the truth about Mórrígan... And before I met and became friends with Charles, there was morning. It was like any other morning safe, warm, under a thick blanket sewn by my own mother's hand, keeping the morning chill at bay. Even though the days grew warmer, the sun in all its splendor rested not my window until the early afternoon, forcing me to stay under the thickness of the blanket.

Heavy into sleep with thoughts that flew with playful imagery known to most as dreams. Dreams of which I could not remember, even to this day I still can't remember them. But what I remembered was forgetting on what I was to remember: the day my father and his good friend Si were to journey out to the land of Ghee and Nod only for a day's journey. But still I laid in bed with a thick blanket, shutting out the world around me. While I slept, Mother and Father were already up making the most of the day. Father began putting on his armor while mother made breakfast like she always had done from the time I was born. Likewise, Father was usually first up and first to eat while Mother was the last to eat. I was the second one up and fed, then out doing chores until lunch. The time dinner rolled around I would began fetching water from the well, then help Mother prepare dinner, getting the table set for Father's arrival.

But the morning that I forgot to awaken was the beginning of odd happenings. It was odd for me to forget the morning when Father would leave. Most of the time I was excited to see Si at the door and watching Father wrestle with his armor as mother cooked over a hot stove cooking enough to feed a small army. If I was to find a reason for my forgetfulness, I would say it was the day before, when I spent the whole day with Father before his disappearance.

I remembered asking Father for extra training lessons, to go over things I had struggled with—but Mother of course refused any notions of having me being tossed about showing up with more bruises and scares on my face. She suggested that Father and I spend a day fishing instead.

Father and I adopted Mother's suggestion of killing fish rather than having me playing with sharp knives and fists to the face.

Then something quite remarkable happened. With our lines in the water and hours of bonding, we caught not one fish; instead, Father regaled me with stories before my time. He told me how he met Mother.

"Your mother was the fairest in all of Masa. I of course was much younger. I was with friends at the pub, and a few drinks in me. I was only a Honey Badger then, starting on my training as a warrior. At the table where the sun shone the brightest sat your Mother. I looked at her direction thinking none of it at first mind you. But your mother kept staring back, her eye moved not away from me. I saw dozens of men coming towards her table, but her eye strayed not from me. I did what any man would do in my situation. I ran out of the pub puking my guts up!"

I never laughed so hard. I laughed so hard that my sides began to split. Tears ran down my cheeks trying to catch my breath. "So? What did Mother do?"

"She came out and offered me a cloth to clean my face. On the cloth was her name stitched to it. I was embarrassed. She just smiled."

"First time drinking?" She asked me.

"So, was it your first-time drinking?" I asked my father.

"Aye, it was my first time. I had too much. And your mother was not any help either. Do not tell her this. But she caused feelings that I never knew existed. The main thing, Tara, is that you are here. And we have been together for a long time. Do me one thing, daughter. Promise me you will not take your youth for granted. Stay young as long as you can. It is a big and mean world out there. Mother and I are not always going to be around. Can you promise me that?"