The Fifth Soldier

“Pew, pew! You’re dead!”

The boy knocked over the deceased toy soldier with his hand and set the winning soldier atop a tall pile of sand.

“Hush now Myloe, the Crown’s Legion will be here soon.”

Myloe sighed, solemnly stuffing his five figurines into his leather vest. He shuffled his foot over his victory mountain of sand, evening its surface. His grandmother held her hand out towards him. With another huff Myloe pulled his plastic toy soldiers from his vest and placed them into hers. As Myloe turned towards the shops desk to take his usual seat, Alethea cleared her throat.

“But I…” Myloe faced his grandmother to object, but only half-heartedly.

“You know the rules.” Alethea voiced sternly. Myloe hung his head, shoved his hand into his vest and pulled out the fifth green toy soldier.

Alethea kneeled and pulled the loose floorboard covered in dusty sand from its place and let the ancient soldiers fall into the crawl space next to an old paper map of Earth and a worn deck of cards held together by elastic and missing the king of spades.

Several nights Alethea lay awake disputing whether keeping such treasures was worth the risk.

Alethea took her place behind the desk and clicked a metal band around her neck. Its effects were immediate. The wrinkles on her hands tightened, and the age spots faded, leaving her frail fingers full of luster. Myloe slouched with his elbows on the desk, his face resting in his hands. Alethea nudged him with her elbow as the front door of their shop opened. Myloe straightened up and began to welcome the expected guests as he usually had. But Alethea stopped him with a small touch to his shoulder. It wasn’t the Crown’s Legion.

A woman, dressed in a black skin-tight body suit, trimmed with Raven’s feathers, stepped dramatically across the threshold as though she were stepping over a pile of bricks. She wore a metal band around her long neck, but unlike Alethea’s, hers was black and studded with sparkling rubies that closely matched her sizeable burgundy bun. Alethea shifted uncomfortably, swallowing the dry spot that had choked her first words.

“Welcome to Used Once, Second for You, Ms….”

“Yasheirt.” She answered, sharply, as each long step she took clacked her spiked stilettos against the wooden floor. At the counter, she lowered her sunglasses, revealing dark brown iris’s almost the color of her pupils. She looked directly at Myloe and tapped a ruby on the side of her metal choker. A holographic face appeared next to hers. It was the King.

He began speaking.

“Congratulations Myloe P. Tharick. On behalf of myself, I’ve sent a special warrior to deliver this rare invitation.”

Myloe watched with wide eyes.

The King continued, “It is my understanding that you are turning 12 years old tomorrow.”

Myloe looked at his grandmother. She forced a smile and gave a nod. Myloe looked back at the King and nodded.

The King smiled. “It is also my understanding that you run a secondhand shop with your grandmother?”

Myloe nodded again. Alethea placed a quivering hand over Myloe’s to offer reassurance, but his remained steady.

The king pressed on, “Myloe, you possess a certain set of skills that my Legion could benefit from. Tomorrow, at noon, you’ll be sent for by four men. Bring nothing, you’ll be provided for where you’re going. Happy Birthday Myloe.”

The holographic King zapped back into the woman’s choker. She pushed her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose, whipped around and clacked back out of the shop, leaving the front door open.

Alethea sat frozen, as though, if she moved, she’d break into a million icy pieces.

“Grandmother?” Myloe asked softly.

“Myloe. Will you get the door for me, and watch for customers, I need to do something in the back.” She didn’t look at him but slid from her stool and disappeared from the counter.

In the back room, she detached her metal choker, and let it fall to the ground with a loud clank. She settled into a dark corner and let her tears pour down her lined cheeks. She wanted more than anything to be able to hide Myloe away in the crawl space next to the map and let him play with his toy soldiers until he grew tired of them. Then, maybe then, she’d be ready to let him go.

But an invitation from the King was undeniable. Running from it would mean death. Defying it would mean torture.

Alethea watched Myloe sleep that night. She stewed over everything she’d taught him, and everything she wouldn’t be able to. Come morning, Myloe would begin a journey that Alethea had foolishly thought he wouldn’t be chosen for. She should have prepared him, precautioned him. He will be trained to reinforce restrictions and execute ruthless repercussions.

This isn’t the life she wanted for him.

But there was nothing that could be done.

“You must be brave today Myloe.” Alethea said as she kneeled to Myloe’s height and buttoned up his vest. “Do you understand? Do you understand what is happening today?”

“I think so.”

Alethea began lacing up his shoes. “Do you have any questions?”

“Are you coming with me?”

Alethea gripped Myloe’s arms and gave him a long look.

“No, my love, only you have been selected.”

“When will I get to see you again?”

Alethea lowered her head, gripping the sobs in her throat before pulling Myloe into an embrace.

“Hush now, the Crown’s Legion will be here soon.”

The first two weeks were lonely. On the third week, Alethea pried the loose floorboard and set out the little army men; one facing another, another facing them, the fourth one behind a sand fort and the fifth… Alethea checked the crawl space again. She pulled out the map, frantically tossed aside the deck of cards, felt across the entire space, but the fifth toy soldier was missing.

Footsteps stomped across the floor.

“Looking for this?”