The Unassuming Son

“W-where… are your parents, little one?” said the young lad of sixteen summers. Words came slowly to him, each one caught behind another before finally escaping in a stutter. The child he was speaking to did not respond. She was so small he first mistook her for a child, though after a few moments, he judged they could be the same age. He was tall and stocky compared to others of his age. She stood there, watching him.

Sitting at the front of his small cart, he stared at her diagonally across from him. They were moving in different directions. When he saw no one else, he became concerned.

“W-where are you… going?” he prodded. Her only response was to squint, as if she could not see him even at this short distance. She glanced over her shoulder and then back to him.

He scratched his head, he was unsure what to do. He knew he could not just leave her here but going in the direction she was going meant a detour. Father would not appreciate yet another delay caused by Trevor’s wandering. He had to deliver these goods.

Careful not to startle her, he stepped down from the cart. He indicated the back of the cart with his hand, inviting her in. She glanced back nervously. The girl studied him intensely, trying to read his mind. She smiled and skipped her way to the spot. When he felt she was well seated, he nodded and hopped back on.

“I-I’ll take you… to Morvane.” He looked back to make sure she heard. She was facing the other way and didn’t say anything. It was the only thing he could think of at that moment. He turned the cart around and headed back the way he had come.

Trevor was calculating how much time this trip to Morvane would cost him. If they made good time, he could drop her off and leave immediately, making it to his destination before dark. It meant he would not be home until the next day. It had happened before, stoking his father’s anger. Sometimes his trouble expressing himself caused issues. One client had even beaten him for it. There was never any sympathy for his bruises, only blame.

“We-we’ll be there soon, “ he said over his shoulder. Her bopping straight black hair was the only response.

There was a scuffle behind him. He saw the young girl hiding in the hay, bustling all his wares, some almost falling off the cart. He stopped, frowning. At least a dozen riders were approaching from the road behind them. Maybe she was afraid, so he urged the cart onward.

The party of soldiers quickly caught up and forced him to a stop. They had Dunmere uniforms. Still, despite being reassured, he did not coax the girl out of her hiding spot.

“You! “ said one of the men, “have you seen a young girl run by on this road?”

“N-n-no, sir… I-I have not seen… any-anyone.” he responded nervously. “Boy, are you d-d-daft?” he mocked, getting a chuckle from his companions.

He shook his head, deciding to refrain from saying any more words for the moment.

“What is your name, boy?” asked the same man.

“T-t-trevor, sir,” Trevor responded.

“Damn, you can’t even say your name without stuttering?” replied his tormentor, his fellow soldiers still laughing.

Trevor said nothing, he had that familiar feeling growing inside him that made his heart race and his stomach knot. He faced these types of people daily.

“Well, T-t-trevor, you don’t mind if we check your cart?” teased the leader.

Trevor wished at that moment he could tell them no. That he could express himself well enough to convey all that he was feeling. All he could manage was a weak nod.

“If you disturb a single object from my cart, you will pay with your life.” The response came from Trevor’s mouth. Only his eyes betrayed his words. It was his voice, his words, his tone. He had not, however, intended to say them. The confidence with which each syllable was enunciated was frightening. No stuttering, no hesitation, no searching. The initial fear in his eyes turned to awe.

The man’s eyes went wide, not in surprise as he expected, but in fear.

“Yes, father,“ Trevor heard a man in the back say. “What?” asked the man next to the one talking to his father before kneeling, as if whispering to a lover, the words embarrassing to Trevor. Trevor heard yet another say, “No, Mother, please!”

Terror found them all. Some started darting their eyes from left to right. Others flinched continuously. One actually dropped his weapon. Another dropped to the ground sobbing.

“I understand, sir, you may go,” concluded the leader of the small group, addressing Trevor with the reverence afforded to a king.

Trevor led his cart away, watching the riders head back in the direction they came. Had his lips even moved? He looked toward the hay where the girl remained hidden. He was terrified.

Trevor tried to gather his courage as the cart rolled down the road. When he judged they had made it far enough, he stopped and got down from the cart. The girl’s head popped out when the cart came to a halt.

“L-listen, I need to know what… is going on?” He stood with his hands on his hips, indicating they would go no further. The girl did not seem concerned. She merely shrugged. That puzzled Trevor for a moment. He expected her to be terrified.

As he got closer to her, she gave him a suspicious look. Standing next to the cart, only a few inches from her, she continued to study him.

If she did not talk to him, how was he supposed to find out where to drop her off in Morvane. Did she even want to go there? His shoulders dropped a bit as he scratched his head.

“I-I-I really need you to… talk to me,” pleaded Trevor, was she mute? Deaf?

“Why are we stopped?” Trevor suddenly asked. He shook his head, he did not mean to say those words. He instinctively covered his mouth. It was strange to hear himself speak without hesitation, without stuttering.

“S-s-stop that!” he said, once he had lowered his hands. The girl laughed, he did not.

“D-d-don’t do that!” he raised his voice, almost relieved he could actually still speak on his own.

“I’m sorry. This is my only way of communicating with you,” he said. This time it was in a girl’s voice, one he thought he recognized but could not clearly identify. The words and the voice were more mature, not those of a child.

He frowned, his hand on the back of his neck.

“A-alright, so who… are you?” asked Trevor.

“My name is Lucille. I need to get to Morvane.” she answered through Trevor using the same girl voice as before.

Trevor felt strange. When she spoke through him, he felt violated.

“I-I don’t like… this. I thought you were mute or deaf, why can’t you speak with your own voice?” he said, his eyes pleading with her.

“I don’t… trust my own voice.” She shrugged, indicating with her chin just to resume their trek. She got comfortable in the hay.

Trevor could not reconcile all that was happening. How was this even possible?

“You don’t see that every day,” said a voice from the trees.

This time, both Lucille and Trevor were surprised. Trevor looked at Lucille to see if she was playing tricks, but her eyes told him otherwise.

A man slowly strolled out of the forest, approaching them. He paused.

“Do you always talk to yourself?” he asked, smirking. He had two scars crisscrossing his face, from forehead to chin, meeting in the center of his nose. It was an unsettling sight.

Trevor and Lucille remained silent and unmoving. The man turned before reaching the cart, taking a peek inside.

“I’d love a ride, any chance you would feel generous enough to let me sit in there for a while?” asked the mutilated man, indicating the cart.

“S-s-sir, we must… hurry,” replied Trevor. Lucille said nothing, her expression neutral after her initial shock.

“Lok,” replied the man, lifting a sack of onions.

“W-what?” said Trevor.

“You may call me Lok. Onions, I love them,” said Lok, nodding in satisfaction. He opened the sack to inspect them and he seemed unbothered with the smell as he took a whiff, Trevor’s nose wrinkled. Lucille also seemed unbothered as she studied Lok. Her face suddenly showed confusion. Or perhaps surprise. He put the sack back down. He settled onto the back of the cart, taking off his boots with a relieved sigh.

Trevor shared a look with Lucille. She did not betray her thoughts, so Trevor put the cart in motion towards Morvane once more.

As Lok rubbed his feet and toes, he took a knife out. That made both Trevor and Lucille pause, though Lok ignored them. He cleaned his toenails with the tip of the blade.

“Where y’all heading?” he asked. He had a strange accent.

“Morvane, “ replied Trevor, not seeing a reason to keep the information to himself.

“Eesh. Heard things were rough there, be careful,” suggested Lok.

“W-w-what about you?” asked Trevor nervously.

“The Reaches,” replied Lok, inspecting his work.

“T-t-those are farther south, near… Dunmere?” questioned Trevor.

“Yes, I was in Dunmere, had to take a small detour in these parts, going to cut my way south by the Golden Harp Inn,” shared Lok.

Lok looked at Lucille for the first time.

“No wonder you talk to yourself, “ he joked, hiding the gesture toward Lucille behind his right hand.

He continued to make small talk with Trevor, teasing Lucille from time to time about her non-existing conversation skills. When they were about an hour from Morvane, he bid them farewell, hopped off the cart while it was moving and disappeared into the trees.

Within minutes of Lok vanishing into the woods, they heard horses galloping. Lucille actually looked back in concern.

“How long before we reach Morvane?” she asked using Trevor’s voice. Even after having experienced the trick before, he was taken aback.

“N-n-not long,” answered Trevor. She could not see the city around the bend in the road.

“We won't make it. We need to get off the road,“ suggested Trevor’s girl voice.

“I-I can’t leave… the cart, Lucille!” replied Trevor in a panic. “C-c-can’t you just trick them again?” he added.

She shook her head.

“They will be ready for me this time, Trevor.” Her words still flowed through Trevor. She gave him a sad smile.

“G-g-go then, I will lead them… away,” offered Trevor.

She looked at him for a few more seconds and then darted off into the woods. She did not seem nervous at all, was she skipping?

The men surrounded the cart moments later. Trevor recognized them. They did not address him but instead immediately started poking through the hay of his cart.

“S-s-she left already!” he said to them, they continued to ignore him.

“S-she LEFT!” he yelled and one of them turned to him.

After a few minutes of searching, the leader removed something from his ears.

“Where is she, boy?” asked the man, alcohol on his breath. Liquid courage for their second attempt, Trevor guessed.

“L-l-leave her b-be!” replied Trevor. The man gave him a quick look, as if to evaluate him. Then he hit him behind the head, toppling Trevor over. It was not meant to hurt him. As he hit the dirt, he could hear the others laughing as they took wax out of their ears.

That feeling in the pit of his stomach was rising again. He looked up menacingly.

“Don’t be stupid, boy. Where did she go?” asked the leader from atop his horse.

Trevor rose to his full height, challenging the man that had struck him. The man raised his hand, prepared to strike, but Trevor instead leaned against the horse and grabbed the man’s waist, his head buried in the man’s lap.

“What the… let go you freak!” said the man as the laughter around them died out. Trevor had his arms wrapped around the man’s waist now. Years of working on his father’s farm had made him very strong. His victim tried to pry the grip free but failed. He hit Trevor on the back of the head but their grappling made it difficult to put any power in the strike. With one mighty heave, Trevor pulled the man from his horse, slamming him to the ground.

The others drew their swords as their leader hit the road hard. It was hard for them to get to Trevor with the cart and the riderless horse so they dismounted. The man beneath Trevor was not responding. He let go just as another soldier kicked him on his shoulder. Another kick from his left side as he tried to use his arms to protect himself. The third kick hit him in the ribs, robbing him of breath as he fell backward, his back now against the cart. Three of the men stood before him while another two dragged the body of their leader away to examine him.

“Did he kill him?” asked the one to Trevor’s left. No one answered.

“What does it matter? He struck Mertan. Kill the little bastard.” said someone from beyond his vision. He closed his eyes, preparing for a fatal blow, wondering how upset his father would be.

There was a sudden whoosh in his ears and then complete silence. He could no longer hear the men’s breathing, their leather creaking against their movements. He opened his eyes to the strange sensation and saw the men clutching their heads, hands over their ears. Their faces were frozen in a silent scream. Blood started to ooze from between their fingers as they collapsed to the ground.

He jumped up, looking around at the strange sight. They all collapsed, no longer clutching their heads. Sound returned in a rush and he could hear a thousand little details come back as well. The horse closest to him was neighing, his weight against the cart made the wood screech. A bird chirped to his right. Insects buzzed all around him. For an instant, he could identify every sound around him.

He turned, sensing Lucille before seeing her. Her mouth had been opened wide. She slowly closed it. He thought he saw a flash of regret. Then, she seemed indifferent to what had just happened and that frightened Trevor more than the dead men strewed all along the road.

“He will be coming for me soon.” Trevor still could not get used to her using his voice. The sadness did not come from her neutral expression. It came from the words themselves.

“W-w-who?” replied Trevor.

Her sad smile slowly became genuine.

“Trevor, I have an idea!” she said gleefully as she started skipping away. Her sudden change froze Trevor. She looked back, her smile even more radiant, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Come,“ she teased. She hopped and hummed her way into the forest, south, away from Morvane.

As she disappeared, he hesitated. He could not simply leave the cart and horse on the road. He led it quickly to a nearby small clearing and tied the horse there.

“N-n-now Jessie, you be a good… girl,” he said softly to the horse. Looking inside the cart one last time, he smiled and ran after Lucille.

He could hear laughter ahead of him and wondered if that was actually coming from her.

“Of course it is, silly.“ It came from his own mouth in a girl’s voice. He stopped and cocked his head as he realized she could actually hear his thoughts.

“Yes, Trevor, if you speak in your mind, I can hear what you think. Not from too far away though.” His own voice answered him. He suddenly felt her against him. Her head was on his chest and she gave him a brief hug before laughing and skipping away again. The moment was so brief he almost missed it. He did his best to hide his thoughts from her, but his beaming smile he could not suppress.

Trevor finally caught up to her. She had her back to him, sipping from a stream. She gave him a teasing look over his shoulder as he ran over. He drank in big gulps, making her laugh again. There was a big flat rock to their right and she made her way to it, lying against it so the sun could bathe her.

He stared, looking at her differently now. Her dark hair cascaded against the flat surface, her eyes closed against the beams of light coming through the forest opening. Her face was delicate against her tanned skin and her lips were full. He noticed her body heaving against her recent run here and he stopped himself, quickly looking away.

Despite her eyes still being closed, she smiled.

“Can we stay here for a while?” she asked. He wished he could freeze time.

She seemed peaceful, taking in the day. He finally built enough courage to join her on the rock, plopping himself clumsily next to her. He stole another glance at her before also closing his eyes.

It was a strange feeling, the sun on his skin. He was used to suffering the heat of the day in the fields and just wanting to be away from it. This was probably the first time in his life, the rays of the sun felt pleasant.

“L-l-lucille?” he asked, almost whispering.

A hmmm came from her throat and it was the most wonderful sound he ever heard. He let the sound linger a moment, trying to make sure he could remember eternally.

“A-a-are you… magic?” he prodded.

She peeked from one eye, before closing it again, the smile never leaving her lips.

“People call us witches.” He spoke the words for her.

Trevor opened his eyes, he did not think witches actually existed.

"Witches are born of witches and must sacrifice to gain, Witches are torn from witches and must all suffer from pain. Sight to feel, deaf to see, taste to smell, touch to hear, smell to taste while none are free. Some are born good to do evil but none become what they wish they could be. Deliver me, deliver me."

Trevor listened as the words came through his own mouth, despite never having heard them before. By the time the rhyme ended, it already felt strangely familiar, as though he could recite it a hundred times without forgetting a single line.

He thought about the touch to hear portion. What did touching have to do with Lucille’s hearing ability?

“The song isn’t really exact. Throughout time, witches have inherited different powers to different sacrifices,” she replied, giving voice to the question forming in his mind.

Sacrifices? That seemed dark. He wondered how many witches there were, no one seemed to talk about them as far as he knew.

“There are always five witches in the world at any given time,” she said through him again, a hint of longing in her voice.

That response prompted hundreds of other questions while Trevor’s mind started reeling. “Slow down Trevor, I can’t understand you,” she said, calming him with a touch.

“S-s-sorry,” was all he could say.

“Can we talk about something else?” she asked, a small convincing smile gracing her lips.

He nodded.

“Tell me about you,” she requested, turning towards him to give him her full attention.

He was about to speak when he realized he preferred to communicate by using his mind. No stuttering, no searching for words. She smiled at the thought and listened patiently.

He thought about his childhood on the farm. His father’s strong guidance, short temper, and heavy hand. Lucille found his hand without a word.

He remembered his mother, who passed from sickness a few years before, how she was sweet and caring. Lucille shared a sad smile with no other interruption.

He tried to show her his loneliness growing up an only child, no friends, no relatives to visit. Whenever he did have a chance to meet other kids, they made fun of him. She put her right arm around him and laid her head against his chest. He refused to even breathe for fear of making her move away. Something caught in his throat, his eyes stung and he finally forced himself to swallow.

Night had fallen like a warm blanket. She pointed to the sky without a word. The stars stared back and he thought he could stay here with her forever. He didn’t see her single tear roll down her cheek.

Trevor woke up suddenly. He had been plagued with weird dreams of children dancing and mocking, running without moving and some looming castle in the distance. He wondered if she knew his dreams too.

Lucille was already awake, cleaning up by the water. He caught himself staring at her and suddenly averted his eyes. He rinsed his face, smiling at her, thinking of wishing her a good morning.

She answered with a smile and a nod. They quietly made their way back to the road. Trevor was anxious about what they would find there. Would his cart and Jessie still be there? His father would be worried by now, if not about him, about the wares he was supposed to deliver. She grabbed his hand gently into hers, squeezing it. He looked down at her and she smiled, melting his concerns away.

They broke out of the trees to find the cart as they had left it. Jessie neighed at them in greeting.

“T-t-the bodies are gone?” questioned Trevor, surprised at the sight. There were still some small blood stains mixed into the dirt.

Lucille did not reply, simply looked around. She released his hand and his mood sank.

“He is here.” Trevor spoke in that now familiar female voice.

Trevor reverted to his inner voice. Who are you referring to, Lucille? She shook her head slowly, motioning for him to quiet his thoughts.

“Ah, Lucille, how nice of you to join us.” A man in dark clothes emerged from the forest, half a dozen men following. He glanced at Trevor before shrugging.

“We were coming to Morvane…” said one of the men in a girl’s voice. It did not match the one Trevor was producing when Lucille spoke to him. It was younger, more innocent.

The man leading the group did not turn to the man speaking. Instead he turned to Trevor, his gaze did not need any words to communicate his intentions. Lucille noticed immediately.

“No, Viktor, he is coming with me!” replied the same voice as before. That raised an eyebrow from the leader.

“Really? I doubt he will appreciate the company,” responded the leader.

He? Who? Trevor’s thoughts escaped him, but no answers came.

“I will deal with the Kinfather. Trevor saved me from the men chasing me from Dunmere,” replied Lucille using the same person’s voice.

Viktor’s face was partially hidden by shadows of his hood, but Trevor could see the smirk.

“Lucille, your defeat at Dunmere will cause significant delays…” said Viktor after a brief sigh.

“I do not answer to you!” she replied, using the leader’s own voice this time, causing his smirk to become contorted in anger.

“You dare use your dark vile magic on me?” he spat.

“Alexir, grab the witch would you?” asked Viktor in a fake pleasant voice.

“Of course, sir,” he responded as he made his way forward.

She shrugged, raised a hand to stop them, and shared a look with Trevor, before starting towards Morvane. Trevor could feel the tension, were they testing how far they could push Lucille before she responded in a violent way?

Trevor was allowed to bring his cart and horse. Lucille sat next to him as they approached the city. There were no travellers coming to or from the city and the gates were closed.

Lucille gave his hand a squeeze to reassure him as the great gates started opening. Alexir noticed and gave a snort.

As they passed the entrance, there was a smiling woman with light blond hair. Her belly indicated she was due to give birth soon.

“Welcome back, Sister,” she said. She remained standing, alone, following them with her eyes. Lucille glanced at her but had no other reaction. Trevor found her a bit frightening, a strange effect for a pregnant woman.

Trevor had been to Morvane a few times before. There was nothing really particular about it. Things were different this time. There were barely any people on the streets and those that were, were quick to move to wherever they were going. Merchants and traders had no stalls on the streets, people were crammed inside small rooms.

What is happening? People seemed… afraid.

Lucille gave him a look, but no other reassuring physical gestures. Their escort finally stopped at a building and ordered Trevor to remain outside. Lucille entered, beckoning him with a wave of her hand to wait for her.

He busied himself inspecting his cart. The leader of the men that had brought them here also went inside, but the other six remained around him, including Alexir. Trevor thought he heard a dog bark around the building.

He decided to sit on the back of the cart as he waited. The range of emotions over the past few hours was overwhelming. He felt wetness on his hand and he suddenly looked down. There was a brown dog sitting there, having just licked his hand. The guards ignored it.

“Whisper?” came a voice from behind the building.

“Where are you?” it repeated.

A young girl came from the far side of the building. She was obviously looking for the dog.

“There you are!” she said, jogging over. The guards ignored the girl.

She bent down to pet the dog, basically kneeling at Trevor’s feet.

“N-n-nice dog,” offered Trevor.

She looked up and smiled as she grabbed his collar.

“You need to leave right now. It is not safe here,” she whispered in a different voice than her own.

He hesitated. The suggestion caught him off guard. Not because he felt safe, but rather because he had not even considered for one second leaving Lucille. Since meeting her, this was his first moment alone. Danger had arrived with her, but now it felt more real without her reassuring presence.

“Elanora? Did you find Whisper?” called another young girl rounding the corner. On her arm was a soldier. She had an enchanting beauty to her, but her eyes were haunting. They were completely white.

From the opposite direction, Trevor noticed the pregnant woman arrive. She ignored Trevor and the gathering and entered the building. She paused on the threshold, looking at the blind girl and her escort.

“Hurry, Sister, he will not take kindly to having to wait. Already, Lucille has tested his patience.” She disappeared into the shadows of the building.

Whisper ran to his mistress, followed closely by the girl that had warned Trevor. As the man and young blind girl reached the doorway, the man holding her hand for guidance suddenly collapsed.

This caught the guard’s attention and they formed a ring around the small group to investigate. The warning from Elanora screamed in Trevor’s mind but he wasn’t sure what he could do. Alexir never took his eyes off Trevor until a guard fell. One by one, the guards started to collapse to the ground. The blind girl was moving swiftly between each of them, a light touch before they fell. Alexir was last as he tried to evade but wasn’t quick enough. How did a blind girl react so quickly and know where each guard was? Elanora looked at Trevor.

“GO!” she yelled. In contrast, Lucille used his words to whisper to himself. “Go, Trevor, go.”

Something in Trevor snapped. He did not want to leave Lucille but his instincts kicked in. He unhooked Jessie from the cart and mounted her. She was not a riding horse, but she could carry his bulky frame. He never looked back as he fled the strange scene.

Trevor knew he should keep his head down and concentrate on guiding Jessie to the city exit. He kept looking over his shoulder. Was it out of fear or to see if he could spot Lucille.

Lucille, I am so sorry, I am such a coward. He tried to make his thoughts as loud as possible even though he knew there was no such thing.

He could see the gates closed up ahead. Would they even let him go? There seemed to be a man standing there in the distance, dead center of the street leading to the gates. When he got close enough to recognize the man, he pulled on the reins. “F-f-father? What are you doing… here?” he asked, stunned.

His father simply stared back. How would his father even know he was here? How did he get here? Trevor knew this could not be real.

“Son, it’s ok, just think about all this for a moment.” His father beckoned him to stay where he was.

The hesitation was enough for guards to start appearing behind him. Did it even matter? It wasn't as though he could have escaped. As soon as the guards grabbed him, his father vanished. Trevor was not surprised. What he had learned from Lucille suggested this was likely an extension of that. Alexir’s smirk was infuriating.

As they returned to the building where he had left Lucille, one of the guards turned to Trevor.

“I’m sorry, Trevor,” the guard whispered. Trevor sighed. It wasn't her fault.

“Well, look who has decided to grace us with his presence,” said Viktor, standing in the doorway as they arrived. Trevor said nothing, having to finally release Jessie to the guards.

As they guided him forcefully into the building, Trevor tripped, landing hard. He did not have time to get back up on his own, guards lifted and dragged him forward to a room. They locked the door behind him.

“W-w-where is Lucille?” he yelled, banging against the door.

There was no one to answer. After a moment, he whispered to himself.

“I won’t be able to reach out soon, but I will be back.” He promised himself.

He was unsure how long he spent in the room. He had no window and only a few trips a day to relieve himself under heavy guard. Counting the meals, he guessed at least one week. The pain in his back and hips made it feel like a month. He did not see Lucille again or hear her speak to him, despite his mental pleas. He neither saw the pregnant lady or the blind one either. The one person he kept seeing was Alexir and his constant smirk of superiority.

A man brought him another porridge. Two guards stood on either side of the door.

"The next person who comes, go with them." The man deposited the food, his message delivered.

Trevor figured if she could speak through this man, she could hear his thoughts. Lucille, I don’t want to go. I have never felt anything like you before. I don’t think I can bear my life without seeing you again. If I leave, I promise to find you again.

He went over his thoughts a second time and seemed satisfied.

He did not have to wait long. The door creaked open and he saw candlelight cast a shadow on the floor.

“Follow me,” came a voice from the darkness. The candle’s light was not enough to reveal the person. It was a woman’s voice but Trevor knew that meant very little.

They met very little resistance. Trevor tried to be as quiet as he could but he was never really a nimble man. He followed without saying a word, that much he could do.

Lucille, why can’t you come with me? I could protect you, support you. I don’t think my father would welcome us to the farm, but we could escape far south. I don’t want to lose you.

“Shhh…” came the voice, sticking a hand out to stop Trevor. Trevor could now see it was a man leading the way after his shush had to be close enough to not make too much noise.

Ahead of them was a small patrol, city guards that seemed uninterested in their duty. Once they passed, they continued their trek. No one was out, not on the streets or even looking out windows. It was as though only ghosts lived here.

“That patrol will be leaving the city. Follow them when they pass through the gates,” murmured the man, pointing to six men in formation.

“W-w-what? How are…” Trevor started before the man cut him off.

“Just do as I say.”

Trevor wasn’t sure if this was Lucille speaking or the man himself but he nodded. As they shadowed the patrol and saw the gates open, his guide gave Trevor a shove into the streets. He quickly filed in at the back of the men.

One of the men turned around at Trevor’s arrival.

“Boy, what do you think you are doing?” He stabbed a finger accusingly at Trevor's chest. Trevor froze. Of course this would not work. He looked nothing like a soldier.

“He’s coming with us,” replied a man at the head of the small column. His accuser fell silent while he frowned.

“Is there a problem down there?” called one of the gate guards at the top of the wall.

“No. Speed it up, we don’t got all night!” yelled back the leader.

The small group kept a quick pace. Trevor did not have an issue keeping up but he did question what these men were doing outside the city walls in the middle of the night.

“We’ll make camp here,” said the leader to his men.

“Camp? I thought we were supposed to be on patrol?” protested another in confusion.

“Hunting is usually better during the day, what are we going to catch at night, owls?” said another.

Trevor decided to try and slip away in all of the commotion. He recognized Lucille’s handy work.

“Trevor, go right and just past some trees you should see the…” The words trailed from his mouth. His eyes darted from left to right, Lucille had never stopped speaking through him mid-sentence before. He knew something was wrong and started running. What was he looking for? Lucille, what am I looking for, he thought. They were in a forest, maybe it was a rock or clearing. He dodged trees as he looked for something that looked out of place.

Something hit him hard in the chest and he flew feet first. The impact knocked the wind from him as he fought to take a breath.

A few moments later a man appeared, dragging something in one hand, his sword in the other. Trevor rose to his feet, finally catching his breath.

Trevor’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the man clutching Lucille by her hair, dragging her around. He planted his sword in the ground to remove something from his right ear. It was Alexir.

“All this for a damn boy, pitiful,” he yelled at the unconscious girl in his grasp.

Lucille? Please, Lucille, wake up. His thoughts had no effect. The man before him closed the distance in a few steps, Lucille like a rag doll being thrown about in the man’s haste. He struck Trevor in the head with the flat of his sword. Trevor collapsed, cutting his hand as he caught himself on a sharp rock.

Alexir sighed and raised his sword. Trevor’s grip closed around the rock, as the blade fell. In one motion, he raised his back to absorb the blow. The blade cut deeply in his shoulder blade, but Trevor ignored the exploding pain. The momentum brought his own hand up and connected the rock to the side of his assailant's head. There was a loud crack and the attacker’s body fell to the side, releasing his grip on the sword and Lucille. Mixed with the blood was Alexir’s frozen smirk.

Trevor did his best to wake Lucille with no success. He gently picked up Lucille and started walking. Her breathing seemed steady and he could not see any visible wound that was threatening her life.

Please, Lucille, wake up. I don’t know what to do. He continued to walk aimlessly.

“Trevor?” he said suddenly to himself.

“L-l-lucille!” He gently put her down against a tree.

“Trevor, you have to go, even now they are coming. He knows we are here. I am in no state to defend you.” Trevor spoke in a groggy female voice.

No, Lucille, please. I can carry you, tell me where to go.

“I promise Trevor, I will find a way to free myself and find you.” She swore through his lips.

I can’t leave you, he thought with finality.

“We don’t have much time. They will kill you. Go.” She leaned in to kiss him. He closed his eyes against her lips, savoring the moment like nothing he had felt before. He felt her tears mix in with his. Then, it was over. She withdrew and pushed him away.

“Go!” she said, the shriek from her own lips. The sound put terror in him and he involuntarily got up and started running. He had never heard her own voice before. He could not describe it except to think it sounded like a nightmare.

He ran for so long, fear pushing him onward as his legs burned from the effort. He found himself at the entrance of an inn. He looked up and saw it was the Broken Wheel Inn. He entered, sweat covering his face and body. A man with a dirty apron looked up from the bar. No one else seemed to be around.

The innkeeper glanced up from the bar. "Hello, traveller."

“Good evening, sir, I was hoping you may have a spare room for the night?” The words flowed from Trevor’s lips without stutter or hesitation.

His words.

His sentiments.

His voice.