Daxton - Episode 22
The 5th Compass | Tales of Stonehaven [1,229 words]
Daxton is the first book in the 6-book series, The 5th Compass, which takes place in Stonehaven. Released in serial form, two episodes each week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The audio version is coming in the future for paid subscribers only. Visit the table of contents for a list of previously published and upcoming episodes.
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Daxton ran away, leaving his best friend with the hag. Barton stood to follow him, but the hag reached out her hand and stopped him. She knew Daxton needed some space to realize there was no other way. And as he ran through the trees, he felt freedom in the air. Upon the main road, he saw some men wearing the royal colors on horseback. He stopped running when he saw they were pulling a wagon which carried multiple men from the village. He supposed they were the men who thought they were above the law and attempted to hide from what the king considered was their duty; to serve him. They were required to take up arms but chose to hide, got caught, and now were being paraded through town. Let everyone see who the cowards were.
Daxton couldn’t stand to watch them, especially as he saw how close they were to his house. He continued his sprint, this time avoiding the main road. Upon entering his house, his mother and father were sitting at the kitchen table deep in discussion, which they ceased when they heard him enter.
“Daxton, son, we wish to speak with you,” his father stated, but his son ignored his request and proceeded to his room. His father followed close behind and watched as his son started throwing clothes in a satchel. “What do you think you are doing?” he asked.
“I am leaving, what does it look like? I am not going to join the royal army and fight for this king or any other king. I am going to find my mother. She needs my help more.”
“I am afraid we cannot let you do that, son.” Ephraim stood in the doorway and used his massive size to block Daxton’s ability to leave his room. “I will not have a son of mine running like a coward. It is your duty. Did you learn nothing of how to be a man? Real men do not run away from their responsibilities.”
Daxton stopped packing and looked at his father. For the first time, he noticed the obvious differences between them. Differences he never paid much attention to before now stood out and gave him a pain in his stomach he tried hard to ignore. First it was Ephraim’s build. He was broad shouldered from all the heavy lifting he did over the years working on the farm. Then there was his height. Daxton was closer to his mother’s height and build so he figured maybe he took after her instead, but now that he knew the difference was because there was no blood relation between them, he couldn’t stand the sight of his father.
“Real men do not lie either. I am going. And I am not your son, so stop calling me that.” The words cut like a knife and even as he spoke the words, Daxton regretted saying them. Ephraim’s eyes turned to ice before him and he knew those were words he could never take back. Before he could make any attempt at repentance for his hurtful statement his father turned on his heels and walked away from his son. It would be the last time, in a long time, Daxton would ever see him.
Daxton stayed in his room to finish packing and slung his bag over one shoulder. The only items he left out on his bed were the compass and sword. A part of him only wanted to take the compass and leave the sword behind. He knew just carrying it may cause him to fight along his journey which could lead to killing and he did not want to be a murderer. He had his bow and arrow and he much rather rely on them for protection. But the sword was a gift which he believed belonged to his mother. He wrapped the belt around his waist and fastened it. He would have to take his chances that it would not need to be used.
The entire time he packed he never once wondered what Barton, or the hag must be thinking of him running away like that. Although, a part of him expected Barton to have tried to stop him or at least have run after him. Was he being hasty in thinking he could go it alone to find his mother? Should he have taken up the hag in her offer to help him if he did this one crazy thing for her? These were all questions he would normally have discussed with his best friend but from now on he would have to learn to rely on no one. He had to believe he was doing the right thing and leaving his friend behind would be the best thing he could’ve done. Barton did not ask for this and he shouldn’t be expected to commit an act that might see him hanging from the gallows.
Daxton raced down the narrow hallway and he grabbed his bow and arrows from where he always left them, near the front door.
“Were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?” The voice of his mother caught him off guard, so sweet and innocent, and yet the once soothing sound cut his heart even more than his father’s. Daxton did not want to turn and face her. He knew what he’d find, and he would not allow her to guilt him into staying. He straightened his back and remained perfectly still. “Won’t you even look at me before you go?” He could not remember the last time he disobeyed his mother. Did he want the last time he’d see her to be disrespecting her? She was not his birth mother, but she was the only mother he’d ever known. He at least owed her one final look and one final goodbye.
He turned to find her still sitting at the table, right where she when he first walked in. The afternoon sun coming in through a window caught her auburn hair and again he was reminded of the differences between them. How could he not have noticed them before? How could no one else, not even Barton, mention anything? True, they were the same height and both rather thing, but those are common features one could find with anyone. Daxton looked at her now, searched her face in the sun, hoping to find something, anything, that would tell him she was his mother. All he saw now was a stranger he thought he knew.
She could tell by the way he stared at her what he was doing. She hated herself for not being his mother, for not giving birth to him. And yet, all the time she spent raising him it felt to her as if she had. But the way he looked at her now, like a stranger, she knew all she had done to raise him was not nearly enough. She was not his mother and no amount of tears would change that. She remained stoic through his stare and didn’t flinch when he uttered this parting word, “Goodbye,” and opened the front door to leave for good.
On the other side stood General Corwinn with two of his men behind him. In the distance, Daxton could just make out the wagon he saw not too long ago on the road.
“Going somewhere?”