dark and dismal, like death. He skidded to a stop in front of the apothecary and tugged at the wooden door.
Locked.
He glanced around aimlessly. The sun was high, beating down on him with its torturous rays, the road behind him packed with people. The apothecary should be open by now. He knocked on the door and waited. Nothing, so he knocked again, this time with a forceful thunk, thunk, thunk, and when that failed, he pounded at the door endlessly, as if his persistence would make any difference.
“It’s closed.”
Tobias stopped and looked over his shoulder. A man stood behind him, his face half-hidden beneath an unkempt, greying beard.
“What do you mean it’s closed?”
“I mean it’s closed,” the man said. “They’re all closed. Everyone’s closed.”
Tobias studied the door in front of him. “Why?”
“Today’s a holiday.”
“Yesterday was a holiday.”
The man shook his head. “No one works today. Sovereign’s orders.”
“For what purpose?”
“The pool. It’s today.”
Tobias’s back shot straight. “For the Sovereign’s Tournament?”
“No one works, so every man of age has the chance to enter if he so chooses.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“The door’s locked, isn’t it?” The man went to continue on his way, then stopped short, eyeing Tobias up and down. “The pool is stationed by the Ceres fountain. You know, if you’re looking to enter.”
“Why would I want to enter?”
“Just saying. You look of age, is all.”
Tobias didn’t respond, cursing under his breath, and the man scowled beneath his beard. “Here you are having just learned it’s a holiday, and your face is all sour. You heard me when I said you’re getting the day off, right?” He spat on the ground and ambled on. “I swear, the youth today, no gratitude.”
Tobias paid him no attention and glared pointedly at the locked door. Fucking shit. He trudged back into the thick of town.
The passersby were beaming, their smiling faces obnoxious given Tobias’s mood. Many young men talked amongst themselves, others madly dashed in one direction—to the pool most likely—and Tobias decided then that he hated every one of them. Go to hell. He moved slowly, his steps heavy, weakened by the weight of his own piss-poor attitude.
He reached the dirt road to his village, and as always, standing beside it was the all-too-familiar artist’s shop. Compelled by habit, he stopped in the center of the road and stared at its reddish walls, the thatched awning, and the tiny round window on the second floor. It seemed unfair to have to pass this place each day—a constant reminder of the past, adding insult to injury.
An arm wrapped around his shoulder.
“Tobias!” Milo gave him a squeeze. “I knew I’d find you here pining over your former dwellings. The look on your face, it’s like you’ve got your cock in a vise.”
“Shut up, Milo.” Tobias shoved him aside.
“Where are you headed?”
Tobias grunted. “Home.”
“Wonderful!” Milo took Tobias’s shoulders, steering him back into town. “Perhaps accompany me on a brief detour, yes?”
“To where?”
“The pool.”
“The pool?” Tobias tore himself from Milo’s grasp. “You stubborn ass.”
“Did you think I’d change my mind come morning?”
“I’d hoped you were simply drunk and stupid.”
“Stupid? Possibly. Drunk? Definitely. And yet I’m still entering.”
Tobias growled, grabbing Milo’s wrist. “Come on. I’m taking you home.”
“Piss off.” Milo ripped his arm free. “Just because you’ve severed your balls doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”
“You treat this like a game. It’s life and death.”
“Indeed. My life. This is my choice.”
“I won’t send you off to die.”
“Then send me off to win!”
“Oh, for God’s sake—”
“The decision is made,” Milo said. “I’m going to the pool. You can’t stop me.” He crossed his arms and held his chin high. “Now, you can either see me on my way, or we can say goodbye here.”
Milo was small and feeble despite a lifetime of laboring, but his large, hazel eyes were lit with the confidence of a warrior. Tobias was familiar with that look; it was one of conviction, and no amount of badgering would change his mind.
“I’ll see you off.” Tobias scowled. “Because you’re my friend. Not because I support your careless decision.”
“Good!” Milo led the way down the stone path. “I thought things were about to get tense for a moment there.”
“You’ve abandoned all reason.”
“And you’ve lost your optimism and your sense of adventure.” Milo stared ahead as he rambled. “It died in you on that fateful day.”
Tobias went rigid, frozen by the chill of Milo’s words. Milo glanced up at him, and his face dropped. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to prod at old wounds.”