The next morning, Jon stood in the field outside his house, staring at the three targets he had set out in front of him. They were old cups that had lived in the corner of his room, set up on small stools spread out the yard in front of him.

This was a familiar sight to Jon. Sometimes, after a stressful day, or even just for fun, Jon would wake up extra early and shoot things for target practice.

Not that Jon needed to practice aiming. It was more for speed, as Jon had nearly mastered both aiming down the barrel and shooting down the hip.

If he could even say mastered. He never talked to anyone about it. He didn’t know if he was better or worse. He just knew that he practiced until he was the best at doing what he wanted to do.

Which was shooting. He quickly raised the gun to his hip and pulled the trigger. The shrapnel incinerated the small porcelain cup as it flew off of the stool.

Yes… Jon knew it would work. It was one of the only things in his life that did. He wasn’t even a violent person. His older brother had shown him how to use it once, and it had excited him enough to keep using it whenever his dad was too occupied to stop him.

Jon checked out his father’s blunderbuss. It was getting old. That didn’t mean that it worked any less, although, occasionally, Jon could swear that he heard a rattle somewhere inside when it moved.

The design was simple. The barrel was as long as Jon’s forearm, with a large flare on the front. It was connected by a hinge to a chamber, which was a large space for dumping gunpowder and whatever debris you could find lying around. Sure, there were bullets in the house, but Jon didn’t want to drive his father mad by using all of them up.

He stuck to using old antiques that Farmer Dan had given to him whenever they had returned to the Apartha Townsend.

Once he shot the other two targets, he dug a hole into the ground with a shovel before sweeping all of the shrapnel into the ground and covering it.

Every time, Jon would wonder if he had dug a hole deep enough. And every time, Jon knew that he would never know the answer because he wasn’t very good at figuring it out. So he simply finished covering the mess as always before picking up all three of the stool and walking back into his home.

His heart nearly jumped when he opened the door and his mother was sitting patiently at the table.

“You’re awake,” he said. He had always woken up early to avoid disturbing his parents. His father snored loud enough where Jon felt safe setting up his targets with enough distance between them and the house.

“Yes, I’m awake,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Jon became worried. He assumed she wanted to talk about the test the day before.

“...I…”

“You can put the stools down, first,” she said. “And the gun. Take your time.”

Jon listened to his mother, putting the stools in places around the house where his father could easily ignore them. He then returned the blunderbuss to its place in the corner of his house.

He came back to the kitchen table and sat down.

“How was it?” she asked.

“...Fine…” What could Jon say? That he passed this time?

“You’re going away tomorrow,” she noted.

“I always go away.”

This was true. Every so often, Farmer Dan, a family friend, and surrogate brother to Jassiter would bring Jon with him to help peddle whatever crops Dan had decided to grow from his farm.

He grew what Jassiter had referred to as, “unnecessary crops.” Jon had tried to ask his father what those were, but Jassiter reminded him that Jon would probably forget what the crops were, which Jon totally agreed with.

“I know, but… I feel like we never make an event of it, you know?” Vel shrugged. “Like a going away party, or something.”

“I’ll be back in a few days.” Dan never stayed in the Townsend for more than a few days. Jon was becoming even more anxious. What could his mom be asking of him now?

“What’s with that look on your face? You’re not in trouble.”

Jon didn’t believe her.

Vel chuckled. “Oh, Jon…”

She stood up and walked over to him before giving him a big hug.

What’s happening? Jon couldn't take it anymore.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally.

“It’s you I’m worried about,” she answered. “I know you try hard doing the test, and I know your father is pressuring you, but it’s more him than you…"

“He passed the test,” Jon said.

She let go of him and sat back in her chair. “He did. But he’s not you.”

“Everyone else…” Jon began to think about his siblings.

“I don’t care, Jon, they’re not you.” Velvet crossed her arms. “You are special. You’re just the type of special that isn’t needed here.”

Jon didn’t know what to say. “Okay…”

“What I mean to say is, I’m gonna make sure Jassiter is extra nice to you this time. You guys have had a hard time communicating, and I think it’s time for you to figure this out… now.”

As if on cue, Jassiter walked into the kitchen from his bedroom, yawning and scratching in indecent areas while entering the room with his always half-buttoned overalls.

He stopped at the sight of the kitchen table. “Oh… Jon…”

“Sit down, Jass,” Velvet said.

“But-”

“Sit down.” Velvet’s tone was decidedly more stern this time around. Jon almost felt bad for his father, if not for the fact that his mother was going to force both of them to speak to each other.

He should have known something was wrong.

Jassiter muttered some things under his breath, not daring to say any of those words too loud in fear and respect for his life. He took a seat at the table.

“I’m baking more lavabread,” she said. “So feel free to talk it out.”

Both Jassiter and Jon watched Vel leave with silent gasps on their faces.

They turned to each other.

“...Jon…”

“Dad.” Jon looked away ashamed. He was sure he failed the Farmer’s test a third time. He had purposely avoided his father the whole day by wandering around the outside of the house until it was dark, then rushing in to eat his dinner while Jassiter was still getting ready for the next day.

“How was the test?” Jassiter started.

“Fine.”

Jassiter’s eyebrows furrowed with disdain. “Of course.”

“What did we talk about?” Velvet called from the other room.

Jassiter sighed. “What I mean to say is, how are you?”

Jassiter was speaking in the same patterns as Jon’s mother, and it made Jon uncomfortable.

“...I’m fine…”

“Just fine? Not like, ‘very fine, or-”

“Jassiter!” Jassiter quickly sat up straight from his wife’s call.

“I’m glad you’re fine. I’m fine too. I guess I should talk to you about the council.”

The council. Jon knew mildly about the council. He knew that they controlled everything that went around the farm. He knew that they didn’t like his father. He knew that they also didn’t like Farmer Dan. And that was it.

Jon didn’t know why. His father was a great farmer. He would help the other farmers, who would often come to his doorstep for some advice. And if his father didn’t know it, chances were, it was about a particular type of crop, and Velvet would know the answer. Jon knew that his mother had taken the farmer’s test late in life and passed it on her first try. He felt ashamed that he couldn’t match up her standards.

It was worse with his father. Every Time someone came to the house, Jon would shift out of sight so that they didn’t have to ask if he had started helping out with the farm work yet. Not that he talked to anyone anyway.

And now, Jon was going to learn more.

“...As you may know,” Jassiter said, “the council is not very fond of our family.”

“Or Dan,” Vel added.

“Or Dan… but… they still expect our family to contribute to the rest of the land.”

Jon’s eyebrow raised. He didn’t see what was new about this.

“...It was hard for your siblings growing up,” Jassiter said. “I think them moving away was the best, because… because…”

“He’s worried that they will pick on you,” Vel finished. “Which they won’t.”

Jassiter’s eyebrows scrunched together again, but now, in sadness.

“It’s a godsend that they all seemed to have picked up from your mother and left the farm… but I’m afraid that they will pick on you if you don’t seem to contribute anything.”

This didn’t make sense to Jon.

“But they’re gonna pick on you anyway,” Velvet said.

“Not that…” Jassiter shook his head. “I think I pushed away your siblings too fast, and that I expected you to follow them, but you didn't. And now, you’re stuck here with us, and… I apologize…”

Jon didn’t like this. His father was apologizing for Jon’s own inadequacies?

“It’s my fault,” Jon said.

“No, it’s my fault.”

“It’s mine.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you-”

“You didn’t push me at all.”

“But your siblings-”

“They’re not here.”

“I know they’re not. But you’re here.”

Jon heard that last bit of resentment from his father’s voice. There it was. The disappointment,

“I’m going to get ready to leave,” Jon said. “I’m sorry… about the test.”

He stood up. “Sorry, mom.”

Jon didn't understand people very well, but he knew his father well enough to know that he was still sad about Jon’s unwillingness to commit to anything.

Jon went upstairs and spent the rest of the day in bed.

The next morning, Jon made his way over to Farmer Dan’s house. He gave a big hug to his mother as she kissed him on the cheek before leaving.

“Bye, Dad,” Jon said.

Jassiter waved weakly. “Bye, Jon.”

Jon walked out into the field and set off. He had memorized the route to Farmer Dan’s house by now. Much like the school, Jon could have asked for a wagon ride, but he preferred walking. It gave him a lot of time to himself that wasn’t at the house.

He thought about the same weary looks the teacher gave him when he started digging in the wrong spot.

He thought about the approving nods that the teachers gave him when he used the blunderbuss.

“Ever thought of being a mercenary?” Farmer Tech asked.

Jon had shaken his head. He didn’t want to hurt people.

He even remembered the raised eyebrow of Farmer Ciri when he returned his written test.

“Good God, Jon, I think you got it perfect.”

Jon didn’t even remember what the answers were. He just followed the shapes that he remembered from the last test.

Now, he traced the river until he broke off from it to walk more inland. Already, Jon could see the land changing. Due to Farmer Dan’s peculiar crops, his land was colored with all sorts of purples and yellows and blues. Jon definitely knew that the council, and even Jassiter, would faint at the sight of such disorganization.

There was also a strong smell that Jon had never known what it was. Maybe his mother could tell him at one point.

After stepping through the colors, Jon was at Dan’s door. Somehow, the house had looked as lazy as Dan was. It seemed to shift to the side as it rose into the air.

Jon knocked.

“Is that Jon? Coming!” After some shuffling, Dan opened the door.

Dan was the opposite of his father. Although both were tall, Dan was wiry and had an incredibly friendly face underneath a large straw hat that he wore almost all of the time. Jon found it curious that despite having a mop of sweaty hair, Dan always wore a hat, while his father often showed his bald head with a sort of silent pride.

“Howdy,” he said with a grin.

Jon looked past Dan’s shoulder. There were several things on the floor that would have driven his father crazy. Jon didn’t have that many things, but he still enjoyed the freedom that Farmer Dan seemed to exhibit. With no kids or wife to hound him, he could do whatever he wanted.

Jon had even thought of asking Dan to move in with him, but he was afraid that it would encroach on Dan’s and Jassiter’s relationship. Dan was kind enough to let Jon come with him on his peddling trips, and Jon was afraid to ask for more.

“I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Dan said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Jon said.

Dan nodded smoothly. “Cool. Give me a moment.”

He shut the door. After some time, the door opened again, and Farmer Ciri had stumbled out from the door.

“Oh… hello Jon,” she said.

“Hi.” Ciri was one of the proctors from his exam, and she taught occasionally at the school. Jon didn’t know why she was there.

“...keep this a secret, alright?” she asked.

Jon nodded.

“Thanks. Good job on the test by the way." She patted Jon on the shoulder then walked away.

Jon wondered about her kindness. He hadn't had worked anymore harder on the test than he did the other few times, but he appreciated the kind words as much as he could.

Farmer Dan stepped out a moment later. “I’m good."