Three boys gathered at the edge of the woodland, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. The moons bathed the village in dim hues as they eagerly awaited the return of their friend, the one who had risked capture to secure a bottle of wine for their celebration.
Soon enough, the sound of hurried footsteps cut through the air, and the prodigal boy emerged from the path, his breath still heavy from the encounter with Master Ta. He held up the coveted bottle with an exhilarated grin. The others cheered, celebrating their friend's bold feat.
Walking back to the huts, the boys shared the spoils, passing food from hand to hand, laughter mingling with stories of narrow escapes. Each boy went on their own mission, risking crossing fates with a lashing. One boy, his eyes bright red with mischief, leaned closer and whispered, "Guess what? Our master caught me sneaking around the cellar, but he let me go!"
"No Way!" A boy with green eyes shocked, mouth full of cheese.
"I told you! He is loved and favored." Said a brown-eyed boy leaning close to smack the back of the wine thief. "If it were me, I would have had two lashes in the back before a word was even said." Leaning away from him, he continued, "But you are special. You know the right words to say every time." He pauses for a moment. But his curiosity breaks his closed mouth to an open smile. "What did you and Master Ta talk about?"
The boy looked at his friends, his red eyes burning with energetic passion. "We talked about how we must stay friends and share in nights like this. Also, we should all be Hunter." He gave a bright grind at the end of his words, along with a head jest. "But we are the future protectors of the village. The future soldiers of the army!"
The brown eye boy goes to grab the bottle out of the cellar thief's hand. "I call for a toast!" Each boy takes out a leather pouch, holding it out in front of themselves, eager for their taste of Man Hood. (So, they believed). "Loyalty above all," the boys said together, raising the pouches, pulling it back to their lips for their first experience with a man's drink.
The Masters of this world has lived for many years. Mastering mind and body. They have senses that normal people do not have. With a heavy resistance to many things from prolong exposer to the battlefield. Pyro Wings is a drink they seek out. Not for its taste but for its potency. Enchanted to smell like normal wine it is about 99% alcohol, and they drink it like juice.
The boys so excited for this moment, didn't think twice about showing off to their brothers that they are the manliest by chugging down the shot in one go. Each boy covered the pouch with their lips to give the drink full access to the tongue and throat. The liquid spared no space, using gravity and the force of the toast. The drink spread its wings for the naive youth. Blue, brown, and green eyes join their brother's as their eyes turn red.
The red and blue-eyed boys' reflexes barely kicked in only taking in half of the Pyro shot. The rest was spat at each other. The drink hitting both of their eyes as they fall coughing and wheezing in pain. The green-eye boy had the weakest tolerance with a strong sense of taste. The moment the liquid touched his tongue everything he ate beforehand had return to the outside world. The brown-eyed boy so filled with prided he swallowed it all. Now it didn't stay long in the stomach. Just like the green-eyed boy the drink was returned to the ground from where it came along with company. The boys toke some time on that dirt path. Rolling on the ground, regretting every thought of following the Master's recommendations. This goes on for at least a good 30 minutes before they could recover their bearings. Well, whatever is left of it.
"I just can't wait to get out of these huts." Red, blue eyes stare at the lantern in the middle of the hut, made out of straw and mud, while lying on a bed of straw. He continues, "This is where we stayed ever since we were 8. We only saw the Masters and the Officers. I miss the nursery. I miss our caretaker."
"And soon, we will be able to see them again!" After finishing the last cheese, the red, green-eyed boy tells his friend. "We will be able to see whatever we want. We will have our names-"
"And titles!" Stumbling on top of his bed, red brown eyes hid in the dark. "We will all be soldiers! Protectors of this v..v..village! The Masters will never be able to make us Hunters!" He falls face first into the straw.
"Naming is tomorrow. We need to sleep. Goodnight, everyone." Scarlet turned to crimson as the lantern was turned off.
The boys lay in their beds, seeing themselves as defenders of the weak, rising above their current stature to become beacons of hope. The prospect of newfound authority and camaraderie ignited a fierce determination within them, propelling them forward on this shared path.
The boys made a pact to face the challenges that lay ahead together. They swore to support one another and lend strength and courage in times of doubt. Their imaginations intertwine with the rhythm of the night. In the midst of their dreams, they caught glimpses of a future where they were more than just the boys with no names—a future where they would leave an indelible mark on their village, forever altering its destiny.