Choice
August 973 (Noxus calendar)
The hustle and bustle of the docks gradually faded into the distance. Draven walked along, counting the few meager copper coins in his hand, a rare smile of satisfaction on his lips.
For the entire day, he did not cause any trouble and obediently followed his brother to move goods at the dock.
Despite his aching back and sore waist, this was the first time in two months that he had actually earned money.
Darius didn't speak; his injury had long since healed, leaving only a gruesome scar on his arm.
"That should be enough to buy three days' worth of black bread," Draven muttered, stuffing the copper coins into his worn-out pocket. "If only I could make a few more trips."
Darius glanced at his brother, sweat trickling down his rugged face. "Be content. You're lucky you didn't cause any trouble today."
Draven was unaware, but Darius knew perfectly well that the value of that little bit of money was rapidly diminishing. Just two weeks ago, a single copper coin could buy two loaves of rye bread hard enough to knock a dog unconscious, but now, vendors were generally only willing to give one, and even that loaf seemed smaller than before. The prices of all kinds of grains had almost doubled, even the cheapest beans had increased significantly.
Prices in the city skyrocketed like a burning sailboat, but wages for porters at the docks remained as stable as nailed-down planks.
As the two were walking, an unusual commotion came from the direction of the main street, and many people were running towards the central square.
"Have you heard? The conscription order!"
"Really? Where did they hit?"
"It seems to be in the north... or the south? Anyway, it looks like war is about to break out!"
"Tsk, I wonder how many more people will die this time..."
"But for us, this might be a great opportunity to get ahead!"
"What chance! It's a chance to die!"
"Really?" Draven asked curiously, standing on tiptoe to look around.
Conscription? Darius paused in his tracks. He recalled the rumors he'd recently heard at the docks: several sailors said the Noxian army had achieved a great victory in the north, capturing the important town of Lungmen, and the war might be spreading south.
"Brother, let's go take a look!" Draven said, then plunged into the crowd.
The two brothers squeezed their way into the square with the flow of people. The usually empty square was now crowded with people of all ages and genders, mostly poor people like them.
A middle-aged man, dressed somewhat respectably and representing the inner city's elders, stood on a makeshift wooden platform. His voice booming, he explained the situation: Lungmen City in the north had been captured by the Imperial Legion, and Besilico could become the next Lungmen at any moment. To defend their homeland, Besilico was conscripting all eligible residents. The age limit was twelve years and above, entirely voluntary, with priority given to men.
The proclamation made no mention of pay, rations, or spoils of war; it contained only the dry phrase, "For the glory and survival of Besilico"—a statement that seemed utterly powerless in the face of hunger and rising prices.
The conscription was like a child's game.
The people below the stage were buzzing with discussion, their expressions varied. Some young people were excited, rubbing their hands together, seeing the war as an opportunity to change their fate; some middle-aged people had furrowed brows, worried about their wives and children at home; and many more, like the Darius brothers, were poor people who listened in silence, their faces numb from years of hardship.
Draven listened intently, his eyes shining, seemingly captivated by the vague notion of "glory." Darius, on the other hand, listened calmly, his hand unconsciously reaching for the few copper coins in his pocket. For him, war and glory meant a more unpredictable future and an even heavier burden of survival. He tugged at his brother's sleeve: "Let's go, there's nothing to see."
The two brothers walked one after the other into the alleyways of the slum. The air here was always mixed with the smells of mold, urine, and a faint stench of blood.
Since the Black Rat Gang incident, the residents of the slums in the north of the city have been looking at them with a more complex gaze—a mixture of fear, disgust, and a hint of barely perceptible awe.
Eight teenagers took on two, resulting in five deaths and three injuries. Such a feat was enough to strike fear into the hearts of people on the streets of the slums.
"Have you seen enough?" Draven suddenly yelled at a few children peeking out from the end of the alley, waving the coins in his hand triumphantly.
The children immediately scattered and ran away like frightened mice.
Draven continued to plan how to move more packages of goods tomorrow when he looked up and saw a fat figure peeking out from the alley entrance.
It was Aunt Martha, who lived in the same shantytown, a woman known for her gossip and petty greed. She always avoided the Darius brothers, as if they carried the plague.
For the first time, Aunt Martha approached them with a fawning smile on her face, carrying a small basket covered with a faded cloth.
"Hey, Darius, Draven, just got off work?" Martha rubbed her hands together, her eyes darting over the two brothers. "Look at all that sweat, you must be exhausted."
Darius frowned slightly and nodded in response. Draven was much more direct: "Aunt Martha, just say what you need to say. We have to get back."
Aunt Martha chuckled twice, "Look at you, can't you come see me for no reason? Your parents passed away early, I watched you grow up, and I love you all like my own children..."
Draven interrupted her impatiently: "Come on, old lady, last time I stole—borrowed—half a loaf of bread from you, you scolded me for a whole week. Just say what you want to say, stop beating around the bush."
Aunt Martha's smile froze for a moment, but she quickly recovered: "Oh my, children have such good memories! That was so long ago. I'm here today to share some good news!"
"Joy?" Draven raised an eyebrow. "What joy could you possibly have for us?"
"It's not my happy occasion, it's your happy occasion, it's Alice's happy occasion!" Aunt Martha finally got to the point.
"What does this have to do with Alice?" Darius sensed something was amiss. "Explain yourself."
Seeing that she had finally caught Darius's attention, Aunt Martha hurriedly said, "Here's what happened: There's a farm family living by the moat outside the city. They're not rich, but they have a few acres of land and raise two cows and about twenty chickens!"
Darius interrupted with a frown: "So?"
“They had a daughter who was eleven or twelve years old. A few days ago, she went to play by the river and unfortunately fell in and drowned,” Martha said, making a regretful expression.
"Huh?" Draven thought she was crazy: "What kind of happy occasion is this? You can get a seat without giving any money just by bowing?"
“Oh dear, child, let me finish!” Aunt Martha waved her hands anxiously. “Yesterday, when the farmer went to town to sell his produce at the market, he saw Alice and thought she looked a lot like his deceased daughter. She was so thin and small, it was heartbreaking. He said his heart was breaking. So he asked around and eventually found out about her here. He wants to adopt Alice.”
The air suddenly froze.
Darius and Draven's smiles slowly faded, and the two brothers exchanged a silent glance—Alice had completely forgotten her trauma earlier, and these days she had started riding around in her little car to play with other children her age in the neighborhood again. With Lark around, they felt comfortable letting her run wild, but they never expected to encounter something like this.
Seeing that the two remained silent, Martha eagerly added, "That man was an honest farmer. When he talked about Alice looking like his deceased daughter, he cried his eyes out. His wife was squatting by the stall, also crying for a long time, unable to speak. It broke my heart to see him like that!"
She paused, observing the brothers' expressions, and continued, "He didn't take her away for nothing! He said that to thank you for taking care of Alice for so long, he'll bring you a pound of eggs every week when he goes to the market!"
Darius suddenly sneered: "What did he give you?"
Aunt Martha was flustered, her eyes darting around: "What good is it? I'm just worried about how hard it is for you two brothers. Darius, you have to support your younger brother, and also the children's brides of both of your brothers..." She glanced in the direction of the brothers' shack, "It's one thing to support the older one, at least he's normal, but the younger one isn't very bright, he can't even walk, he's so skinny and small, I'm afraid he won't be able to give birth when he gets pregnant—his bottom is too small."
Draven clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles turning white.
Aunt Martha, oblivious to Draven's change, continued her rambling: "A pound of eggs a week! That's enough nutrition for several of Quelletta's children! And the children will have something to eat when they grow up! Besides, the farming family won't mistreat Alice. I've heard from the surrounding families that the couple treats their daughter very well. They never let her work in the fields, so her hands don't even have calluses. She gets eggs and milk every day, and her body is as fair and tender as the young ladies from the noble families in the inner city!"
"Shut up!" Draven finally snapped. "How much did you get in return? Huh? You want us to sell Alice for eggs? Do you think we need your eggs? We've been doing just fine all these years, we can support ourselves!"
He became increasingly agitated as he spoke, taking a step forward as if to strike. Aunt Martha recoiled several steps, her face pale with fright: "What are you saying! I'm doing this for your own good! For Alice's own good! It's better for her to go to the farm and live a better life than to suffer hunger and cold in this slum with you! You two brothers are barely making ends meet yourselves, yet you're eager to raise a crippled and mentally challenged little girl—she's nine years old and can't even remember your brothers' names!"
"For our own good? Bullshit!" Draven roared, raising his fist to punch Martha.
Just as Draven was about to pounce on Aunt Martha, Darius reached out and stopped his brother.
"Brother!" Draven turned to his brother in disbelief. "You're really thinking about this?"
Darius didn't look at his brother, but calmly said to the terrified Aunt Martha, "I'm sorry, my brother was too impulsive. We need to think about this and ask the family for their opinions."
“Of course, of course. You two discuss it properly, and I’ll come back for news tomorrow.” Aunt Martha felt like she had been granted a pardon. She backed away while muttering, “Drauss is so reasonable... Think about it carefully, a pound of eggs a week... I’m doing this for your own good…” With that, she turned and walked away quickly, as if afraid that Draven would catch up with her.
Draven abruptly shook off his brother's hand, his eyes filled with shock and anger: "What do you mean? You really want to consider it? Trading Alice for eggs?" His voice trembled with rage, "I thought you would at least..."
Darius didn't answer, but instead grabbed his brother's arm firmly and practically dragged him home: "We'll talk about it when we get back."
“I won’t go back! Unless you promise me you won’t send Alice away!” Draven struggled, but Darius was much stronger than him.
"Stop joking, Draven." Darius's voice was weary. "This isn't as simple as you think."
"What's so complicated about it? You just think Alice is a burden and want to get rid of her? Let me tell you, no way!" Draven practically yelled, attracting several neighbors to peek out of their windows.
Darius stopped talking, but forcefully dragged his brother back to their hut and pushed the door open.
Alice was sitting on the edge of the bed telling Quiretta about where they had gone that day when Quiretta saw the two brothers enter, their expressions grim. She stood up and asked, "What's wrong? I could hear you two from afar. Draven got into another fight?"
Alice happily held up the two pieces of bread she was holding and handed them over: "Big De! Little De! One for each of you!!"
Draven flung his brother's hand away, took the bread, and angrily sat down on the grass mat in the corner to gnaw on it, ignoring everyone.
"Nothing serious. Have you eaten?" Darius sighed, closed the door, took the bread, and asked, "Where did this bread come from? Did you do someone's laundry today?"
Quilette keenly sensed that something was amiss, but still replied, "Alice said she was playing at the market, and a vendor gave it to her."
Draven, who was in the corner, spat out the bread in his mouth and threw the remaining half onto the table.
The atmosphere that night was unusually somber. Even Alice sensed something was wrong, quietly eating her bread in small bites while occasionally stealing glances at the two brothers' gloomy faces.
After dinner, Quilette coaxed Alice to sleep. The little girl seemed particularly tired from playing outside that day, and soon curled up on the straw mat and drifted off to sleep.
After confirming that Alice was asleep, Darius finally spoke and whispered what Aunt Martha had said during the day.
Before he could finish speaking, Draven jumped up: "I disagree! Absolutely disagree! Alice is family, and no one is getting rid of her!"
"Keep your voice down!" Darius snapped. "I didn't say we absolutely had to send her away. But this is an opportunity; we should at least find out about that family. If they're a good family, Alice could have a good life there..."
"Good days?" Draven scoffed. "You think a pound of eggs a week is enough to buy you off? Dude, I never knew you were this kind of person!"
Darius's face darkened: "Draven, watch your words."
"Did I say something wrong? You'd abandon your family for petty gains? That's not like you, brother!"
The word "abandon" seemed to touch a nerve with Darius, and he stood up as well. The two brothers faced each other, the atmosphere tense and ready to fight.
"Not like me?" Darius said in a low voice. "Then tell me, what kind of me is like me? Is it the one who works hard every day to support the family? Or is it the one who cleans up your messes everywhere? Draven, tell me, what kind of me is like me?"
Draven was taken aback by the question, but quickly retorted, "So you think we're a burden? You think you can't afford to support us and want to give us away?"
“That’s not what I meant! But you can’t deny that if they were truly a good family, Alice could be living a much better life than she is now! She’d have eggs and milk every day, and wouldn’t have to go hungry or cold…”
"So what?" Draven's head drooped. "You can give Alice up for adoption today, can you abandon me tomorrow? I've always been a burden to you, haven't I?"
Silence reigned in the shack. Quileta looked at the two brothers uneasily, hesitant to speak.
"I won't abandon you!" Darius roared. "Draven, you're my brother, and it's my responsibility to take care of you! But you have to admit, you haven't contributed much to this family. Even Queleta can earn a few coins by washing clothes and mending fishing nets, and what about you? What can you do besides causing trouble?"
These words were like a knife, piercing Draven's deepest wound. His face instantly turned pale, and a look of hurt flashed in his eyes.
Quilleta finally couldn't help but speak up: "Darius, don't say that. Draven, he..."
"Shut up!" Draven suddenly turned to Quiretta. "Don't think I don't know about you and my brother cuddling and spitting your tongues out! You're pregnant, aren't you? That's why you two are in such a hurry to get rid of Alice!"
These words struck like a bolt from the blue; Quileta's face instantly turned bright red, and Darius visibly panicked as well.
"What nonsense are you spouting!" Darius's voice stammered unusually. "Where did you learn all this gibberish!"
Draven, however, became even more convinced of his guess: "Didn't I tell you? No wonder you wanted to send Alice away, you were afraid that with another mouth to feed, you wouldn't be able to afford to raise your child!"
"No, that's not true!" Quiretta was so anxious she was almost in tears. "Draven, how could you think that!" She tugged hard at Darius's sleeve. "Explain yourself!"
But Draven wouldn't listen to any explanations. Seeing his brother and Quiretta's panicked expressions, he became even more convinced that his guess was correct.
"You won't sell Alice!" he roared, rushing towards the sleeping Alice, pulling the little girl out of the blanket, and running away.
"Draven! Stop!" Darius shouted and chased after him.
But Draven had already rushed out the door. Alice, startled awake, groggily wrapped her arms around his neck and asked, "Draven? Where are we going?"
Draven didn't answer, but simply hugged her tighter and ran even faster through the narrow alleyway.
At that moment, Draven felt as if he had returned to the night his parents had just passed away, feeling lonely, fearful, and as if the whole world was abandoning him.
As night deepened, a boy ran through the streets of Besilico carrying a little girl, his older brother calling anxiously behind him. But the distance between them grew ever wider.
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