I posted this on the Happiness chat but whatevs!
CHAPTER 1: An Interrupted Picnic
Watan stood, patiently waiting, atop the knoll where he and his best friend would often sit, a small basket, woven from reeds, and very full, in his hand.
His other hand, lay lazily on his hip, a small blanket snug in the crook of his elbow. He sighed, exasperated, shifting his weight to his other leg.
He looked over the port-town of Fawrs, his home ever since he was little.
Small, bustling, full of crop-rich farms, trim stables, workshops, stores, and many a street-stand.
A hangar for the aircraft, with sliding sheetmetal doors, and steel-plated roof lay to the East, and a secure-looking, lsvish marina to the North, for the watercraft. To the South, right before him, were the aforementioned farms. A few watchtowers dotted the outskirts, mostly to the West. It smelled of rich, warm, damp soil and mortar.
He let out another sigh, as his name was called, by a sensitive, slightly whiny voice.
“H-how long have you been here?” Siegfried inquired, loudly, making his way up the knoll.
“Thirty minutes.” Watan pretend-deadpanned.
“I'm… So sorry, the Headmage held me back for extra lessons.” Siegfried stammered, coming in for a hug.
He wrapped his arms around the other boy. He had Siegfried beat by half a head in height, maybe a stone in weight. Siegfried buried his head in the other's neck.
“It's not like you to fall behind, especially in magecraft.” Watan pointed out. They broke apart.
“N-not behind… Ahead.” The smaller boy replied. “And, uhm how are you doing with technology classes?” He asked, shyly, averting the other's eyes.
“I, well, didn't go.” Watan acknowledged, waiting for tge other's reaction. Siegfried looked as if he were going to extend a hand, but withdrew it.
“Watan, you should've gone.” He chided, huffing with exasperation.
“I know, but I'm also ahead, so why not take a day off?” He set the basket down, waving Siegfried to the side to lay out the blanket.
He patted it down, and set the basket in the middle, before sprawling out on part of the blanket, feet crossed, and hands behind his head.
“T-that mentality might just be the death of you.” Siegfried responded, crawling onto the blanket and took a seat, neatly.
“Still here, aren't I?” The taller boy retorted, playfully.
Silence, save for tge sound of tge breeze whipping through the thick grass.
Siegfried digressed.
“So what's in your basket?” He peered at it, oddly.
“Oh.” Watan flicked it open, revealing thick, supple slices of bread, and some drippings, as well as two small white packages, and a bundle of leeks.
He reached for a piece of bread, as did the other, and they smeared the drippings on them, in silence.
Two pairs of blue eyes, Watan's like gas-flames, and Siegfried's like the sky, or sea, or maybe crystals.
“So um?” The smaller boy stammered.
“Go on.” Watan nudges.
“Those two packages?”
“Open one and see!”
Silence.
Siegfried hesitantly reaches, and opens one up, the white paper crinkles as he sets it into the basket.
“Honey tarts!?!” Siegfried joyfully collapses on Watan. “You sly fiend!” He takes a small bite, relishing the sweet, savory taste.
“I figured they were your favorite!” Watan flicks him lightly on the forehead.
“You figured well!” Siegfried said, starting to drop his meek demeanor.
A whirring sound caught their attention, and they glanced off towards one of Fawrs's outer roads.
It was a jeep, much like the one the Vulkyrian military issued Watan's father. With long, sturdy military-grade axels, large tires, and a sturdy, low-to-the ground body. Poking out from it's back end, was a long, clunky turret, with a purple lense at the end. The driver could hardly if at all be seen. The turret was un-manned, as the jeep was in the vicinity of the town.
“Mercenaries?” The boys said, in unison, looking at each other once more. Puzzled.
