Forced Military Service (Part 3: One Foot Forward)

The morning came gray and quiet, with mist curling low around the trees and dampening the forest floor. Greenbough never truly woke up with the sunrise—it eased into the day like a lazy stream, slow and unhurried.
 
Kaelyn stood at the edge of the village path, his travel pack slung over one shoulder and his boots damp from dew. His cloak was crooked—Mara had fixed it, then shoved him for standing still too long. A soft wooden whistle hung around his neck on a leather cord—Nireth had given it to him, carved from heartwood and polished to a shine. He hadn’t asked if she’d made it before or after their talk. It didn’t matter.
 
Their father hadn’t come to see him off.
 
A few villagers nodded as they passed, some with curious glances, others with polite half-smiles. Everyone had heard something, of course. Whispers move faster than wagons in Greenbough.
 
Ahiah was perched on a crooked branch above him, wings tucked tight against her sides, her bright eyes unblinking.
 
Ahiah: You don’t have to do this, you know.
 
Kaelyn: “I do. If I run now, he wins. And I’ll never learn discipline unless someone forces it into me with pushups and mud.”
 
Ahiah: I thought you liked mud.
 
Kaelyn: “I like mud when I fall into it dancing. Not when someone’s yelling in my ear about formations.”
 
She tilted her head, upside-down, amused.
 
Ahiah: You’ll miss your sisters.
 
Kaelyn glanced back down the path. Nireth stood near the woodshop, arms wrapped around herself, her face half-hidden beneath her hood. Mara leaned against the doorframe, trying to look bored. She failed spectacularly.
 
He raised his hand in farewell. Nireth waved delicately. Mara gave him a sharp nod and mimed “eyes on you” with two fingers. He smiled despite the lump in his throat.
 
Kaelyn: “They’ll be okay.”
 
Ahiah: Will you?
 
He started walking.
 
Kaelyn: “Ask me again after the third week of drills.”
 
Mist curled around his boots as he headed off into the trees. The village faded behind him, and the future stretched ahead—uncertain, structured, strange.
 
But for the first time in a long while, Kaelyn didn’t feel like he was running from anything.
 
He was walking toward something.