“Report?” Captain Rhodes requested for last nights report from behind a small wooden desk that appeared to be on its last few years as it rocked side to side from any kind of weight put on from the Captain.

  “Around a dozen Saplings. They scattered throughout the town in search of food. It was easy pickings.” Fito was unsure why he was chosen to be here. To be the one to give the report to the Captain when there were others of higher rank than him. He wasn’t even a squad leader in the Escort Unit or the Guardsmen.

  “Casualties?” Captain Rhodes sitting in his chair writing continued his questions.

  “Two casualties. Both residents of the town. A woman and an old man.”

  “And from our side?”

  “A few were injured from our side but nothing serious.”

  “And the Blessed?”

  “Still get a little shaken from the noises but they are slowly getting used to it so far.” The image of the kids trembling in their beds with their ears placed over their ears was a sight that would make anyone sigh with remorse.

  “Has the Lieutenant finished with the preparations?”

  “They should be about done, but we have not yet received the list.” Captain Rhodes nodded, still writing and reading papers.

  “What should we do with the dead Captain? It appears there are no Sun Priests here.” Or guards. Or at least a small militia to guard the people.

  “Burn them. Find a clearing outside the town, we don’t want anything blocking their way on their return to the embrace of the Sun Deity.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Take the rest of the day off. But before you do that, send one of your fellow Daywalkers to fetch the list from the Mayor.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Fighting back the urge to say he wasn’t a Daywalker

  ***

  Fito left the makeshift office with a sigh. Grabbing the back of his neck, Fito felt the stress of a Nightwalker or a Nightwalker within the Escort Unit creep up on him. He didn’t want to do the daily reports. He didn’t want to come running when a superior called for him. And he for sure didn’t want to kiss the ground they walked on. He wanted to be free. He wanted to roam the world while also fulfilling his duties to the Creed.

  He wanted to be a Wanderer just like his Mentor.

  With his head in the clouds, Fito walked down the stairs to the first floor of the house-rented out for free for the Captain-where he found a group of Nightwalkers all laid down across the floor. A closer look allowed him to see the men had specks of blood on their cloaks they were using as blankets. A sign they were probably responsible for the deaths of the Saplings.

  Fito paused for a second and bowed at the snoring individuals before heading out the door.

  ***

  Once outside, Fito inhaled the fresh air before letting it out. Tilting his head up at the sky, Fito closed his eyes and welcomed the warm glow of the sun. He got lucky, none of the Saplings chose the tavern he was staying at as their dinner place. Instead finding it in the home of a widow and her child.

  Fito heard from his fellow Nightwalkers that the woman screamed for help and no one answered. No one but an old man with a cane.

  A brave man.

  Opening his eyes revealed the disdain in it.

  Probably the only brave man in his opinion.

  “Careful with them, Rookie.”

  A ruckus coming from the side where a carriage was being loaded caught Fito’s attention. Fito watched the Nightwalker apologise profusely at those around him as he picked up the fallen arrows. With each one picked up he would bow his head in apology.

  Rolling his eyes, Fito walked up to the trembling rookie to help. “Hey Seven.” Fito said as he picked up a few arrows.

  “Oh, don’t worry Fito. I got it.” Seven brushed back his dark silky hair, speeding up his movements after seeing Fito.

  “No, it's fine.” Fito waved his hands. “I’m free all day. Except for during the Ceremony of course.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Oh that's right. You watched over the Blessed.” With a face of realization he immediately reached for the arrows in Fito’s hands.

  Fito quickly dodged the reaching hands. “Ah, ah, ah.” Fito shook his head before sidestepping the rookie to drop the arrows in the carriage.

  “Fito, you must rest. You stayed up all night. You deserve a rest.” Seven wore a look of worry as he advised Fito to rest.

  Fito laughed after hearing this. “Did you not also stay up?”

  Seven wearing an embarrassed expression turned away with his eyes searching for something to pull him away from the conversation.

  After spotting Seven’s expression, Fito couldn’t help but ask “What's wrong?”

  Seven stole a quick glance at Fito, unsure what to say.

  “He fainted. The so-called Nightwalker fainted after spotting a Sapling.” A bald headed young man around his late teens laughed while explaining the events that occurred last night.

  Fito shifted his attention back to Seven who hung his head low in shame. Fito, not knowing what to say to comfort him, chose to give a small revenge in the name of the rookie. “Theo, stop laughing and head to the Mayor's office and tell him the Captain wants the list of kids attending.”

  “But I have to help supervise the Ceremony.”

  “And you won’t be missed. Go!” The blonde haired teen grumbled to himself as went in the direction of the Mayor's Office.

  “Thanks.” Seven wore a smile to accompany his gratitude.

  “No problem. Now let's go grab a couple drinks and a bite to eat before the Ceremony begins.”

  ***

  Mrs. Woods and old man Revus.

  The shrieking voice filled with terror now had a face. Gilbert watched the burning of the two individuals with a placid expression. Another day, another burial.

  The sad life of a Greenville resident.

  And from the mouths of those rare visitors who came in caravans, it was the same with every town or village like theirs. Secluded, separated by the rest of the world just like Greenville, with enough needs to barely get by. When towns or villages like Greenville were created, they were built to be self-sufficient. For the sole purpose of being a rest stop when things go awry. And even with that purpose they are rarely used. Barely even acknowledged.

  Gilbert shook his head to clear his thoughts and did a quick scan of the surroundings. He found around a dozen Nightwalkers with heads hung low, paying their respects to the deceased. A shock to him as he wondered why the Nightwalkers would send so many of their men to attend a funeral.

  A sniffle pulled his attention away from the Nightwalkers to the only remaining family member of the deceased. A boy around the same age as his daughter. The boy sporting short hair not even longer than a fingertip, hung his head low sniffling by himself. There were many rumors about how the boy lost his hair. Some believable, others questionable but all of them shared one factor in their stories and that was the boy was grabbed by those foul demons of the Night. The screams for help he remembered hearing last night was probably for him.

  Gilbert felt pity for the boy and it was made even worse once he heard from his daughter that he was one of the nicer kids. He recalled his reaction towards the screams from last night and felt a bit of shame creep into his thoughts before quickly stomping it out. To feel for someone would only make you more vulnerable. And he was already vulnerable enough.

  Gilbert noticed one of the Nightwalkers holding a torch, walking to the deceased individuals with a blank expression. Once he reached them, he bowed his head for a moment before tossing the torch on the pile of branches covering the mother and old man. Burning their bodies so their ashes may return to the embrace of the Sun Deity.

  With a pull from his tunic, Gilbert looked down to find his teary eyed daughter pointing at the bonfire created by the deceased. Gilbert nodded and grabbed Gretel’s hand to lead her over to the raging funeral pyre. Once near the father and daughter each threw a flower into the raging flames.

  A tradition. A tradition Gilbert didn’t mind following.

  It’s said that the Sun Deity favors flowers, so when you die, those who attended the funeral as a final favor to the deceased would give a flower to lost loved ones. In which the deceased will use on their way to meet the Sun Deity.

  Watching the somber funeral filled with around a few dozen people, he wondered how many would attend his funeral. Recalling his uncaring attitude last night, he looked down already knowing the answer.

  ***

  On the way home from the funeral, Gilbert carried his sleeping daughter in his arms, probably exhausted from the emotions she was carrying. To lose a friend was a horrible thing to experience. Especially at such a young age.

  Walking down the muddy streets, Gilbert couldn’t help but feel the sweat fall down his back from the sweltering heat. Gilbert looked up at the sun with a frown, annoyed that the golden Sun brought down so much heat even though they were halfway into Fall. Gilbert glanced down to see if his daughter was having the same troubles as him only to pause seeing his daughter.

  Gilbert's earlier annoyance at the glaring heat flaring down was forgotten as he watched his daughter’s peaceful expression with a sad smile.

  Once every now and then, there are moments when the feelings of regret from bringing his daughter into this cruel and ruthless world would choose to visit his thoughts . A fleeting moment of course as the feeling would quickly disappear the moment those beautiful green eyes reveal themselves and light up once they meet his plain brown eyes.

  Gilbert during his journey back home couldn’t help but notice the fervor of the town once he went deeper into the town. The noises and the bustle of the town gradually became louder the closer he got to the town center. Once he reached the town center he spotted blue banners with a golden sun in the center decorating the entire town center. The bustle of people surrounded him, all wearing smiles and letting out laughs.

  Gilbert felt as if the funeral he just came from never happened nor the incidents of the previous night. With such a ruckus, it wasn’t long for Gretel to wake from her nap in Gilbert’s arms to observe what was happening.

  Gilbert took in everything around with the flying sun kites and embroidered sun flags he had a feeling he knew what was happening. Gilbert immediately spotted a small stage carrying a pedestal in the center and immediately knew his hunch was right.

  Gilbert knew the dreaded day was here.

  The Blessed Ceremony.