To dream

 The summer heat had begun to wane, the days crossing from July to August. Training had become much easier as a result, especially so on a cloudy day like this.

Hugo took a step back as he parried his father’s thrust, the wooden spear veering off course into the ground. It was a perfect opportunity to counter attack, his opponent left completely open with no chance of defending himself.

A slight lag in thought caused the opportunity to slip through his fingers. Rucio recovered his bearings before quickly raising his spear to protect himself from an attack that came just a second too late. Unable to stop his forward motion, he ended up running into his father’s spear with his stomach, the older man’s greater reach leaving Hugo’s weapon just a few inches short of making contact.

Hugo staggered back, clutching his belly. He took a few unsteady steps before emptying his lunch into the nearest bucket.

His father’s usual over-the-top laughter turned into a horrified yell as he ran over. “O-Oi, that’s the bucket we use to wash you idiot.”

In spite of his words, the man didn’t attempt to stop him, instead patting Hugo on the back in comfort. It was too late to save the bucket anyways; he’ll just have to scrub it clean later.

“What was that, Hugo? Running in like that. You haven’t made such an amateur mistake in years.” Rucio dropped his persona for once, genuine concern coloring his voice. Hugo didn’t give an immediate answer, instead taking a few moments to recompose himself. His father handed him a waterskin, from which he took a gulp to wash down the bile before finally speaking.

“N-nothing, father. Just a little distracted today.” He heaved out before leaning against a fence. Rucio raised an eyebrow.

“Is it related to the merchant? You’ve been like this ever since you started riding with him.” Hugo instinctively moved to shake his head before stopping himself, Rucio appeared to have noticed his hesitation.

“He’s not mistreating you is he? You don’t have to keep going with him if you don’t want to, it’s not worth the coin.”

“No, it’s something else…” His words trailed off. His father took a seat next to him after a few moments.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“...”

The silence was answer enough.

The pair sat there for a few minutes, simply staring beyond the horizon. The rush of the river nearby always served to calm his mind, something about the chaotic yet ever consistent sound of flowing water putting his thoughts at ease.

Down the river it flowed, his concerns and his worries, allowing him to empty his head of pointless thought, that he may no longer suffer the burden.

“...”

“...”

“...”

The tranquility was interrupted when a drop of water landed upon his nose. More soon followed.

“Let us return home, triumphant after a day of hard training!” His father slid back into his jovial tone just as easily as he dropped it. Hugo couldn’t say which was his actual self.

The walk back home was peaceful, the only sights worth note being the occasional villager scurrying back home due to the sudden rain. The pair didn’t bother to hurry, Hugo liked the feeling of light rain, and his father was unwilling to go ahead first.

The two were met with a towel the moment they returned home. Mother began to fuss immediately.

“I told you two that it’ll be raining today! Look at you, drenched wet. You could’ve at least tried to stay dry.” There was a tiny frown on her face as she alternated between the two of them, wiping their hair. Althea’s voice remained soft in spite of her words, which made her chiding all the more impactful.

They simultaneously pointed a finger at each other.

“Father was the to who forced me out today—” “Twas was Hugo who refused to hurry in the face of—”

She flicked water at their faces, making sure to aim for the eyes. “Yes yes, it was both of your faults. Get changed already.”

Ellyn charged in with a basket full of clothes at that moment, herself also drenched. Once again, mother began to fuss.

“Who taught you it’s a good idea to do laundry on a cloudy day? I told you it’ll rain today.” His sister placed the basket of clothes down before pointing an accusatory finger at him and father.

“It’s their fault! I wouldn’t have to do laundry every day if they simply—” Her words were interrupted by Althea rubbing a towel over her head.

“Yes yes, we agreed it’s their fault already. That does not excuse your lack of wisdom.” Rucio and Hugo quickly scurried away to their respective rooms to avoid further scolding, as gentle as it was.

Twas not a good idea to earn ire from the ‘Lord of the house’—a title given to the family member with the most common sense.

With his sister being a vassal to mother and with father’s mere presence deflating Hugo’s mental capacity, there was currently no challenger for the position—meaning Althea handed out punishment as she saw fit.

He still felt the embarrassment of being forced to work all day in one of Ellyn’s dresses. Never again.

Just as he was finished changing, Ellyn entered their shared bedroom.

“Mother’s in one of her moods again.” She said before plopping down onto her bed with a crestfallen sigh. She suddenly turned towards Hugo after a moment of silence, eyes practically begging.

He attempted to look away, though the tiny room meant it was impossible to get his sister out of sight. The desperate look in her eyes only intensified.

“...Fine, I’ll hang the laundry up.” With a glee of happiness Ellyn retreated under the warmth of her sheets, white hair and golden eyes disappearing from sight. One had to wonder who the older sibling was at times.

By the time Hugo left his room, Althea had already begun to set up a thin rope over the fireplace. He silently took the other end before tying it to a shelf a few meters away. One by one, they began to wring the water out before hanging it over.

His mother spoke up after a while.

“What’s been plaguing your thoughts as of late?” Hugo instinctively shrunk in on himself, even if he knew there was no point in trying hide or run.

“I’ve just…been thinking about the future, I suppose.” He couldn’t help but lower his voice, even though there clearly wasn’t anyone else listening.

“Girl trouble?” She asked, amusement clear in her tone.

He couldn’t help but snort in response. “You know it’s not.”

Althea hummed in mock distrust. “A yearning for adventure then?”

“I don’t do adventures; I like my peace and quiet. I’ve just been wondering what I’ll be doing for a living in the future, I don’t know much in spite of how much work I do.”

She playfully pulled on his ear, Hugo let out an ‘ouch’ in spite of the lack of pain. “That’s practically the same thing. No one finds their calling without seeing the world first. You need an opportunity to try something in the first place before you decide whether you like it or not.”

The words held truth, like any other advice given by his mother, yet he couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t applicable to him. What opportunity was there to see the world when you were trapped in a village?

Some were simply born luckier than others, and he wasn’t counted among those who could go off and do whatever he wanted. Neither in his first life, nor in this one. He should simply be glad to have been born into a loving family this time. Unlike…

Althea flicked Hugo on the forehead. “‘There’s no point in bothering then, since I won’t get such an opportunity’. That’s what you’re thinking, right?”

He didn’t question how she knew, he had long learned that his mother was simply that perceptive. “Yeah..”

She chuckled. “You’re always such a pessimist. Do you know how your father became an actor?” He shook his head in denial.

“He was performing by himself in the streets, playing a small tune on that old gittern of his as he told a tale about the Knight of Speyer. I happened to come across him and pitched him to our theatre’s director, and Rucio ended up joining as a narrator before eventually becoming an actor.”

Hugo frowned. “That’s just luck then, if you hadn’t come across him then he would’ve remained there, still a lone bard on the streets.”

“Perhaps so, yet it was because your father continued to perform on that street for months on end that I finally saw him. He placed his bet and awaited lady fortune, even if he hadn’t realized it at the time.” The final piece of clothing was hung, a warm fireplace crackling below. Althea turned towards him with a small smile.

“Your father could’ve settled for becoming a simple farmer, but he took a risk instead to reach his dreams. You can’t hope to be lucky if you don’t take a chance.” She held him by the side of his head before placing a quick peck on his forehead.

“Dinner will be ready in an hour, please set the table.” She headed towards the kitchen, leaving him by his lonesome.

His mother’s words held wisdom, they always did. Yet it still felt as though it wasn’t applicable to him. He wasn’t his father; he wasn’t like Orin. He had neither the courage nor the talent.

Besides—

‘Those kinds of dreams aren’t applicable to us. Your old pa can’t afford to send you to school’