Chapter 65: Battlefield Reporter (1/2)

I'm Chalk, a battlefield reporter.

My job was to bring the latest and most truthful war updates to the citizens.

Wars were inevitably b.l.o.o.d.y and cruel, making my job dangerous and difficult.

Battlefield reporters were rare in this country since no normal human being would choose to enter in one of the most dangerous fields of work.

I, however, took great pleasure in my work as I've always wanted to be a soldier.

It was too bad that my background dictated that I'm unable to serve for any country.

Twenty years ago, Golden Sun and Black Eagle were allies.

Golden Sun was a magnificent empire whereas Black Eagle was still a developing one.

My mother was a nomadic herdsman living on the boundaries of Black Eagle while my father was a businessman traveling along the Silk Road.

The Black Eagle Empire, as its name suggests, was a nation known for rearing black eagles because only its land was suitable for raising large-build black eagles.

These black eagles have quality feathers, the best material for quill pens.

My father was in this very line of business.

He would pay exorbitant prices for the black feathers and transport them back to Golden Sun Empire.

The feathers would be processed and refined in Golden Sun. The factory would cut open the feathers' tube, remove the liquid in it, and sharpen it with a carving knife.

They would then drill a fillister in the center of the tip to prevent ink from flowing out when not in use.

A notch will be carved to allow the ink to flow smoothly from the top to the pen tip.

The tube will be filled with high-quality ink that could be used after cutting open the notch.

These superior quill pens were then sold to every corner of the empire.

Even in this technologically advanced age, having possession of such pens was a symbol of luxury and elegance.

It was also through this trade that my father became acquainted with my mother. He introduced her to this concrete society.

They gave birth to me but I was never interested in the feather business.

Father felt proudest of his achievements when he could lend his quill pen to people who needed one.

Nothing great lasts forever, of course.

The business was halted due to war between both empires.

The conflict arose from unevenly developed exchange-traded treasury bonds. Black Eagle was quickly gaining strength but Golden Sun was trying to suppress its progress.

After proposing 63 unfair agreements, Golden Sun Empire obliterated all kind feelings between both nations.

The war started and both nations cut off all connections.

The Silk Road became a dead road covered with corpses.

Because of her marriage to my father, Mother had no choice but to remain in Golden Sun.

She could only observe Black Eagle from afar and mourn the fact that she could possibly never see her family again.

I was still young during the second year of the war.

Father was thrown into jail for marrying an enemy.

The black feathers in the storehouse were all plundered and Father was even given the death penalty due to the large volume.

The quill pens which were once a representation of affluence became a symbol of betrayal.

Upon Father's death, practically none of his relatives approved of Mother because she belonged to Black Eagle Empire.

She could only suffer in silence as she raised me. She knew nothing else apart from household ch.o.r.es.

Most of the time, she was employed as a housekeeper and would fas.h.i.+on pens made from doves' feathers.

The art of making pens was the only thing Father had imparted to her before he left.

While other kids had new toys to play with and new clothes to wear, I grew up playing with the pens and sleeping on the feather pillows Mother made.

I eventually developed a fear of that feathery smell.

I was, fortunately, good in my studies. Perhaps it had something to do with the quill pens since Mom often reminded me that they represented Father.

I had no interest in writing and drawing, however. I was determined to be a soldier, only to realize later on that the army wouldn't accept me because of my ident.i.ty.

As such, I graduated from university and became a reporter.

When I first came to know about this unique profession, I jumped into it without any second thoughts.

It was a danger-filled career so I was easily accepted without being put through thorough checks.

I was a team with my photographer.

Mother disapproved of my job, but nevertheless, she would get my suitcase ready whenever I had a mission.

”If you meet the herdsmen, find the mojito tribesmen and tell them that b.u.t.terfly misses them.”

However, according to my knowledge, the nomadic herdsmen had moved into the village since the war started.