A Failure

The air is filled with the sound of wooden swords clashing against each other, of boys grumbling because of the pain inflicted upon them by their training mate. Yet, none stopped acting; no one dares to stop moving or practicing even without much supervision.

Those who fell to their feet rise back up. All who felt pain held their scream. Each of them was recruits for future soldiers, fodder for their small country that is slowly threatened by external forces.

Around them were young girls who laughed at and humiliated them, encouraging them to work harder unless they wanted to join the gang of girls on their way to the academy.

Robin wanted to join the girls.

His breath was already short, his chest was having difficulty rising up. He was exhausted, had already fallen countless times. His training mate's eyes are calm as he waits for Robin to get back up. Seeing Robin resting and kneeling on the ground, not holding his sword as a blessing, for he doesn't want to hurt the great general's son.

Robin disagrees, he felt that his training mate had hurt him enough, and he couldn't do it anymore. Alas, as he remembered what his father said to him this morning, the little one forced his body to stand up.

He used the wooden sword he had picked up back from the ground as support, ignoring his shifting, hazy gaze.

Robin practiced the basics of swordplay, put on the beginner stance, and again challenged the opponent who had been waiting for him.

Even so, his opponent could see past Robin's poor acting.

From the shaky sword to the semi-conscious posture, he knew his opponent could fight no longer; he has no need to use any more strength.

Believing his assessment to be correct, the training mate looks around for permission to leave the circle, not finding it from the coach's stern gaze. He was forced to finish what he didn't start.

Robin was pushed down. Scattering the dust, He meets the comfortable darkness and fell asleep in his weariness.

In his sleep, voices strange yet familiar call out to him, trying to tempt him.

Yet, before he could hear their offer, "Your son is sick, Ether." The voice of his parents wakes him.

"Sick? He's exhausted, Arion. You made him work as if he wasn't human!"

"He wasn't!" His father replied, inviting Robin to take a peek, seeing his father's eyes glowing with blood as the man continued, "He is a man." With a strong emphasis on his last word.

"He's ...!" His mother stops when she finds Robin's eyes staring at them both, watching his young mind grow confused about the reason for his parents' debate.

Unlike his mother, whose face is full of guilt, his father looked away, as if telling young Robin that he didn't deserve to make eye contact with the father he wanted to make proud.

Silent fell upon them, freezing the incident like a chill, ready to split and separate them all as a family, but Robin's mother stopped it.

"Robin," his mother said to Robin, who didn't respond, "Come here, honey." The boy's busy trying to read the look of his father's face, which was eaten by the veil of night that had descended across the city, "It's time to eat, son. Your day must be tiring, right?"

"And that's why he's so weak," interposes Robin's father, inviting a sharp gaze from his mother before she finally gave up on the father and chose to persuade Robin instead.

The loving woman walked closer to Robin, lifted her dress a little so as not to be dragged on the floor that is dirtied by the feet of the people who brought Robin home to rest.

Arriving at little Robin, the woman knelt down and put on a maternal smile as she slowly and gently stroked Robin's blonde hair.

"Robin," the mother whispered softly, "Robin," directed Robin's hand to touch her braided hair, "Robin!" But Robin's attention only breaks when the mother insists, raises her tone, and finally catches the boy's eyes.

Managed to take Robin's eyes off his father, "How about dinner?" The mother asked softly, holding Robin's arms as a symbol of an invitation in which those invited could not refuse.

Little Robin nodded and looked into her mother's eyes, teary with confusion and fear at the loud voice her parents had raised to each other in their quiet house.

Unfortunately, "Mom cooked your favorite today, you know?" Robin's mother could no longer see that. The gentle woman had carried Robin into the dining room while lighting the lanterns stuck on the stone walls of their house.

His mother sat Robin in the boy's usual chair before putting the luxurious foods they usually only eat at celebrations at the dinner table.

Robin watched in silence, keeping one question in his mind, "Mother."

"Hm?" His mother responded.

"Where's father?" A question he only asked when his mother sat down, but his father is nowhere to be found near them.

For Robin, this is the first time they have not eaten as a family.

It was true that his father was extremely busy as the great general. Still, that man never once missed the opportunity to eat with Robin and his mother, even though he had to rush out afterward.

Therefore, Robin felt this was wrong. A feeling that was only amplified by the look on his mother's face, "Your father is busy, honey." And the woman's broken answer that is hard to believe.

However, little Robin could only nod. Knowing whatever his mother wanted to say can't be said, Robin chose to believe that there is a good reason behind it.

Seeing Robin nodded, "It's fine, Robin." His mother's smile returned, "Let us eat." As she invited him, "You know what we're celebrating, right?"

Robin shook his head, widening his mother's smile as she answered her own question, "We are celebrating the day where you will make us proud, dear Robin." Stroking Robin's hair yet again.

Robin finally smiled, holding his mother's words firmly in his heart as he chewed excitedly on the woman's delicious food that was cooked just for Robin.

And yet, Robin didn't finish it all, being careful not to overeat so that there was more leftover food for his father.

Robin knew very well that his father ate a lot, so he stopped eating after calculating roughly how much food his father used to eat.

Seeing Robin's actions made his mother asked, "Why did you stop eating, honey? C'mon now, eat more, will you? I know your day was tiring."

"But how about father ...?" Robin replied, a bit fearful to fight back.

Such a look on the young boy's face drew pity from his mother; it made the woman want to chase, beat up, and then drag her husband home to see how much love their child had for them both.

But not now, "... Robin ...." Now, "... I have set aside a special meal for your father." She must persuade her son to forget about that bastard for a little while.

The woman lied in an attempt to calm Robin down, making the boy ask, "Where?" With a sad expression.

His mother was stunned, confused before replying with another lie, "In the cupboard."

"There's nothing in the cupboard ..." Robin argued quickly in a whisper, finally exhausting the mother's patience, who hates his father for the moment.

"Robin!" The woman snapped, "Forget your father for a moment, okay?" Impatiently persuading Robin, "Today is only about the two of us. He will definitely eat out. " She continued.

Waiting in silence for a while, Robin, who tried to back away from his mother with every word she said, responded by shaking his head and pushing his plate away.

Realizing the results of her actions, the mother reached out, but it was too late. Robin climbed down and ran out of the dining room to his bedroom, for he would rather continue the sweet dream that invited him to nowhere.

What Robin left behind was his mother sitting in the kitchen, staring at the many meals she cooked in hopes of celebrating Robin's first day entering the military academy.

Something that they could no longer celebrate seeing the reactions of the two boys in the house, who were both immature and unaware of each other's situation.

There was a great desire in Demeter's heart to squander the contents of her table. Fortunately, her memory of Robin stopped her from doing that.

Her gentle son always seemed ill-suited to war, but that didn't mean he didn't have any talent in life.

Demeter was sure that her son would be a great warrior and different from the others because her son had the heart to use a shield to protect all who did not deserve to die.

And suppose her son really can't become a soldier. In that case, Demeter plans to send him to the university where she once studies.

A plan her husband would absolutely be against but didn't sound so bad to Demeter, who knew very well what her university was all about.

Sure, there are cooking lessons there, but the university's focus is to teach politics and diplomacy to young women to equate with the men studying at the capital's military academy.

Demeter could see the accomplished political would-be from their eyes, and she could see a caring light for the people in Robin's serene gleaming eyes.

The woman smiled with delusions that were starting to run wild—her son leading the troops with a large, heavy shield that could protect all of his soldiers.

Her son spoke passionately about the importance of well-being for all and how the aristocracy is a lousy system.

And so on, and so forth, until Demeter realized something and laughed out loud. So happy she feels that the burdens of all the troubles of today seem to float away.

Demeter realized she couldn't imagine her child hurting another creature, no matter what.

Her son would only protect his own soldiers, never kill enemy soldiers. Her son would just advocate for welfare for all and not death for kings.

In that realization, after her laughter, Demeter felt that she had understood her son.

The son that she kept thinking about while cleaning the dinner table to store the food in the cupboard per tiny Robin's wishes to feed his father.

Demeter's child is unique, unfit to be compared to all the other boys that are busy dreaming of war. Demeter is sure her son, even now in his sleep, dreams of peace, a victory for everyone.

But she's wrong.

Little Robin was dreaming of an old curse that had existed since the creation of the world.

Among the whispers that told Robin the totality of his desire was a secret that Robin was still not ready to accept, thus keeping the invitation hidden deep within.

However, Robin could already feel the pull. Dragging him to a place that doesn't exist, into a fight with dozens of other people. Houses burned, land razed, yet the war rages on.

Everything’s for entertainment, for the sake of a single wish.

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