Parallel Crossroads

Chapter Two

(Iris's POV) 

    Dandelions. Sweet cherry blossoms and bright yellow narcissus lined the pathways, but the dandelions always popped up in the middle of the grass regardless of the other flowers. They were a weed, yet they only seemed to add to the beauty of the place. 

    The courtyard was in full bloom and the Whitewater River was flowing faster with freshwater from melted ice on top of the mountains. Soldiers were training a few blocks down in the arena where we held all kinds of games and ceremonies. 

    "Iris!" a hand tapped my shoulder gently, snapping me out of my trance, "What are you doing here, you're supposed to be getting ready."

    "Ready?" confused, I looked at the servant hoping she'd catch on.

    There was a loud cough behind me and my father strolled out with a smirk on his face. "Just like your mother...always forgetting," he sighed, "Your first scouting mission is today, you're 18!" 

    I gasped, finally remembering. Every teenager has a rite of passage on their 18th birthday. They get to scout the territory next to the Whitewater River in order to monitor the Cortes to make sure they don't try to cross our border. 

    The Johnsons aren't nearly as strict when it comes to border patrol- if you'd like to then go ahead. There's a mandatory one once a week but other than that, it's just birthdays and volunteer assignments for the new recruits. 

    "To be fair, I've got a lot on my plate," my Dad chuckled as we made our way to the river path, "I'm 18, in like 3 years I'm taking over the Johnson Clan!" 

    "Which is why you need to follow traditions," he reprimanded jokingly, "Your mother would be so proud of you! Almost as much as I am!" 

    "Thanks," we walked in silence the rest of the way. Mom wasn't just a mother to me, she was like the Godmother to the entire Johnson clan. Always sending off the new soldiers on their first missions, savings goodbye to the teens on their way to fulfill their rites of passage. 

    A few moments later we arrived at the arsenal where we geared up for combat. If we ever did see a member of the Cortes clan, it was our duty to protect the border no matter the cost. They were ruthless, according to the rare few who had fought and survived a border brawl, their skills outmatched ours but our teamwork seemed to do well against them. 

    "I doubt you'll see a Cortes border patrol, they don't like this time of day," my Father explained, seeing my worried face, "It's way too hot, their gear is heavy and, even if it's efficient, it doesn't help with the heat or the speed at which they can move." 

    "So if I see one, run?" I joked. 

    "No, engage and call your team," he replied, deadly serious, "They can still shoot a moving target better than our best sharpshooters when you're with the team get yourselves into a tree or somewhere well-hidden." 

    "...Well, it's not like I'll see one anyway," I murmured, grabbing my gear. 

    The Johnson uniform is pretty simple. A bulletproof vest, bulletproof pants, hand and shinguards, a helmet, and some gloves. Right before I left, my father gave me a pin with the Johnson Seal on it. He said:

    "If you get lost, this will tell people where you're from and you'll be returned here, do your best and get back safely," then he pulled me into a tight embrace. He was on the verge of tears. my mom would've been so proud and amused. 

    I was released, and Dad gave me a final wink before I had to go. My team gave several shouts and hollers, cheering as we ran off to the Whitewater River. I didn't know this at the time, but that day would turn out to be the best day of my life. It would be unlike any other day, it would be...different.