Seize a day
Do we even realize how lucky we've been?
It was still sometimes hard to believe, when he opened his eyes and woke from the trance, in a soft bed, under the moderate bedding, alone. At those times, he let his eyes wander on the ceiling, picturing it as a some kind of map of an unknown world; how the cracks in the plaster were roads or rivers of the wide, unexplored land.
Valdor wasn’t sure, if his mother had realized how far exactly they had come. They were not living in a one room apartment with several other people anymore. No one was coughing, no babies crying or drunken people causing a ruckus. This bed, in this moderately-sized room was his, and his only. It wasn’t, for some other standards, anything luxurious, but for him it was everything. The small kid in him was still almost shocked, when he could just spread out and lie there, and still be covered by the bedding. His dirty and thin quilt, back then, had been smaller than the napkins of some noble house. But he hadn’t known any better, so he hadn’t much complained about it.
The constant hunger had been worse, those tiny sharp teeth always gnawing his guts. It had taken him ages to learn out of the habit of constantly stashing food into his pockets when he had the chance, and more often than not he still gave in to the urge; but now he usually tried to do it with something that wouldn’t stain or crumble, something easy to carry around, and not trying to fit a partially eaten roasted rat into his tunic’s pocket like when he had still been a kid. Now it was often sweets, nuts, seeds, and roots, just something small and easy to stash and snack on when he got hungry. He really liked sweets. Maybe because he had never been able to get those as a kid, and they still were quite expensive compared to ‘normal’ food. But it was his guilty pleasure to buy some chili toffee or hard candies and just eat them one at time, letting them to melt in his mouth, savoring the taste.
Of course, life in the poor part of the town had been rough, and not everything still was a walk in the park now when they had more money, nice property and even the rooms and beds for everyone of the family. Although, the streets had taught him with many important things; he wasn’t a picky eater, and he could easily trance anywhere. Long missions didn’t make him flinch, as he slept in a distant cavern full of glowshrooms just as well as he would have been in his own bed. He adapted quickly to changing situations and Valdor liked to think himself quite good at balancing himself in the middle of the group. He tried his best not to cause any trouble to anyone, and be useful, but not too excellent so he wouldn’t step on someone’s toe and cause envy. He tried to be trustworthy, but not too cocky. It had played out well in the long run, and as far as he knew, he had no enemies. At least not in the military, which felt more like his family than the one he was born into.
The Family Bloodworth wasn’t a big name to begin with, and even when they had gained some wealth, they were still small, and Valdor knew it. It didn’t bother him though, as on the mission it didn’t matter that much if you were a nobleborn or not; it mattered if you were able to keep yourself and your comrades alive. And that he had done well, too. He was, in a silent way, proud of himself. He was happy of his life as it was now. The job he had was inspiring and meaningful. He didn’t aim to be a general, and some have said he lacked ambition when not pursuing rising in the ranks more efficiently. Valdor usually just smiled and turned the question around; He would humbly say he would be very happy to serve under more skilled leaders like the one who had posed the question and bow his head. That usually did the trick and he didn’t need to explain things further.
He just was content where he now was. Valdor knew that nothing lasted forever, so he wanted to take the most out of it while it lasted. Waking up early didn’t cause him any troubles either, when he knew he would head to the Barracks, to see his comrades, which of most he could even find the nerve to call friends. Of course people would view him differently, than he them, but Valdor liked to think that it was more beneficial to make new friends than enemies. Sometimes, of course, you just couldn’t avoid making people upset, but that, luckily, happened only rarely.
Valdor wasn’t sure, if his mother had realized how far exactly they had come. They were not living in a one room apartment with several other people anymore. No one was coughing, no babies crying or drunken people causing a ruckus. This bed, in this moderately-sized room was his, and his only. It wasn’t, for some other standards, anything luxurious, but for him it was everything. The small kid in him was still almost shocked, when he could just spread out and lie there, and still be covered by the bedding. His dirty and thin quilt, back then, had been smaller than the napkins of some noble house. But he hadn’t known any better, so he hadn’t much complained about it.
The constant hunger had been worse, those tiny sharp teeth always gnawing his guts. It had taken him ages to learn out of the habit of constantly stashing food into his pockets when he had the chance, and more often than not he still gave in to the urge; but now he usually tried to do it with something that wouldn’t stain or crumble, something easy to carry around, and not trying to fit a partially eaten roasted rat into his tunic’s pocket like when he had still been a kid. Now it was often sweets, nuts, seeds, and roots, just something small and easy to stash and snack on when he got hungry. He really liked sweets. Maybe because he had never been able to get those as a kid, and they still were quite expensive compared to ‘normal’ food. But it was his guilty pleasure to buy some chili toffee or hard candies and just eat them one at time, letting them to melt in his mouth, savoring the taste.
Of course, life in the poor part of the town had been rough, and not everything still was a walk in the park now when they had more money, nice property and even the rooms and beds for everyone of the family. Although, the streets had taught him with many important things; he wasn’t a picky eater, and he could easily trance anywhere. Long missions didn’t make him flinch, as he slept in a distant cavern full of glowshrooms just as well as he would have been in his own bed. He adapted quickly to changing situations and Valdor liked to think himself quite good at balancing himself in the middle of the group. He tried his best not to cause any trouble to anyone, and be useful, but not too excellent so he wouldn’t step on someone’s toe and cause envy. He tried to be trustworthy, but not too cocky. It had played out well in the long run, and as far as he knew, he had no enemies. At least not in the military, which felt more like his family than the one he was born into.
The Family Bloodworth wasn’t a big name to begin with, and even when they had gained some wealth, they were still small, and Valdor knew it. It didn’t bother him though, as on the mission it didn’t matter that much if you were a nobleborn or not; it mattered if you were able to keep yourself and your comrades alive. And that he had done well, too. He was, in a silent way, proud of himself. He was happy of his life as it was now. The job he had was inspiring and meaningful. He didn’t aim to be a general, and some have said he lacked ambition when not pursuing rising in the ranks more efficiently. Valdor usually just smiled and turned the question around; He would humbly say he would be very happy to serve under more skilled leaders like the one who had posed the question and bow his head. That usually did the trick and he didn’t need to explain things further.
He just was content where he now was. Valdor knew that nothing lasted forever, so he wanted to take the most out of it while it lasted. Waking up early didn’t cause him any troubles either, when he knew he would head to the Barracks, to see his comrades, which of most he could even find the nerve to call friends. Of course people would view him differently, than he them, but Valdor liked to think that it was more beneficial to make new friends than enemies. Sometimes, of course, you just couldn’t avoid making people upset, but that, luckily, happened only rarely.
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