(666 A.C.)
After a month and a half, Rizen and Wanily reached a tenuous peace and something of a routine.
They'd have breakfast together in the morning, Rizen and Wanily and his mother. Sometimes Rizen would wake to find Wanily was already up and about, but other times Rizen would be the first one to rise and stalwartly ignore Wanily still slumbering in the other bed.
During breakfast, Rizen would usually remain silent while Wanily and Mom talked. Usually, at the start, they chatted about Mom's research, Mom explaining every minute detail of her experiments and readings from the various books she'd managed to get her hands on. Wanily listened to this with rapt attention, asking questions at regular intervals and nodding along to everything else. But, even his mother couldn't talk about her research forever, and soon, the two of them filled the morning with talk of everything and anything. Wanily, for the most part, shared tales of her travels, the people she’d met, and the places she’d been. Rizen wasn’t sure if half of what she said was the truth, but his mother ate it all up. If nothing else, her supposedly grand adventures made halfway decent noise to entertain him while he ate.
Once Rizen was done eating, he would begin the chores for the day. If Wanily was ready by the time he was, she would silently trail after him and follow his every direction without so much as a complaint or remark. If she wasn’t, she would usually find him after a little while and still help out.
Other than that, they stayed out of each other’s way. Rizen would claim the bedroom to write most evenings, sitting by the window with his journal and charcoal. He didn’t know what Wanily did with all her free time, but on the occasional trips he made to town, he’d caught her returning from the forest or just lounging around outside and playing with Ruffles. She must make the journey into town sometimes as well since more than one person had asked Rizen about her. Not that Rizen ever knew how to explain the situation. He was pretty sure half the people in town thought he was courting her, which was weird in more than one regard, but mostly because she couldn’t be older than twelve.
And Ruffles still didn’t attack Rizen. Hadn’t so much as growled at him or bared a fang.
Eventually, the new year came. Rizen splurged on some pork from the butcher and he helped Mom–and Wanily, unfortunately–roast it with apples. They shared the meal at the table, as always, and Mom and Wanily talked and Rizen ate silently, hating how normal it felt.
He was growing accustomed to Wanily’s presence. He just hoped he would just as quickly become used to her absence because she would be leaving when spring came. If not of her own volition, then because Rizen would kick her out.
He didn’t foresee it being an issue. Rizen didn’t like Wanily, and Wanily didn’t like him. They understood this about each other, and that was all that mattered.
Only a couple of weeks after the first day of the new year, Rizen found himself standing in line for flowers. He had still been buying one flower from Unnya–even though he technically had two women to buy flowers from now–but he couldn’t afford more than that before Wanily showed up. It was the latest scandal of town–besides the continued presence of the tribune and his men.
Rizen wasn’t sure why they were still in town or even what they were doing in the first place. They weren’t very close to the northern borders with Kra’xen and Vixx, and Lirende as a whole didn’t have much to fear from Oavale with the mountain range in the way. So what business did a tribune have other than bullying the local farmers into handing over their land to the Council?
Whatever. As long as it brought attention off Rizen, he would take it.
He moved up one in line, shuffling forward with his head bowed. That was, until he heard a young, female voice call out, “There you are, Rizen!”
He whipped his head up to see Wanily trotting down the road toward him, Ruffles on her heels. The townspeople around them gave her–but probably mostly Ruffles–a wide berth.
Wanily sidled up next to him, eyes wide and breathing hard. That wasn’t what alarmed Rizen, though. It was the fact that the fur on Ruffles’ back was standing on end, his haunches raised. Rizen almost feared for a moment that Ruffles was about to attack him, but he merely stopped beside Wanily, panting slightly and lip curled back over his teeth as he stared back down the road.
Rizen frowned deeply. “What’s wrong?”
Wanily gave him a sidelong look. “Do you actually care?” she asked lowly.
Rizen bristled. Whatever retort he was about to bite out died in his throat when he looked up again and saw one of the tribune’s men marching his way through the wake left in the town’s bustling throngs. The man–tall, green hair, two jagged scars framing his face–stopped when he caught sight of Rizen. His gaze flicked down, obviously toward Wanily, then lower, to Ruffles. He had his hand on the hilt of the sword at his hip, and there was something about his gaze that made the back of Rizen’s neck prickle.
Rizen curled his hands into fists. “Can I help you?” he demanded, raising his voice to be heard over the bustling of the town square.
The man snapped his gaze back up to Rizen. He removed his grip from his sword, haltingly shaking his head, and turned back the way he came.
People were looking at them. Rizen scowled down at Wanily before reminding himself sternly that people were looking at them. Rizen had to at least pretend to show Wanily some respect. “What did you do?” he asked much more calmly than he felt.
“Nothing!” Wanily crossed her arms, but despite the indignation in her voice, her eyes remained big. Her gaze was focused on where the soldier had disappeared back into the crowd. She tore her gaze up to Rizen. “Can I go back to the house with you?”
“Next!” Unnya called ahead of them.
Rizen hesitated, holding up a hand to her in acknowledgement, before turning back to Wanily and sighing, “Fine. But you owe me an explanation.”
Wanily sputtered out something in protest, but Rizen didn’t bother to listen. He stepped up to Unnya’s window. Unnya peered down at Rizen, before her gaze slid to Wanily, and finally landed on Ruffles. She tapped one finger against the wood of her counter. “Got the menagerie with you today?” Unnya asked.
Rizen forced a smile. “Something like that. Have you met Wanily?” He pressed a hand against Wanily’s back, forcing her to take a step forward. She was tense under his touch and trembling faintly. Rizen frowned and opened his mouth to say something–he wasn’t sure what–but Wanily beat him to it.
“Hello,” Wanily greeted. She smiled at Unnya, betraying nothing of whatever was going on with her. “I’m Wanily.”
“I got that,” Unnya drawled, but she was smiling. “Unnya, the local flower lady, at your service. You’ve been staying with Rizen and Peyra, right? How do you feel about the fact that he only gets you and Peyra one flower every week?” she asked, jabbing a finger at Rizen.
Wanily frowned. “Why is that a big deal?”
Unnya raised one brow at her. “Are you not from around here?” When Wanily shook her head, Unnya frowned. She opened her mouth, then closed it. “You know what? That’s alright. All you need to know is that someone here is not doing his due diligence.” She sent a meaningful look to Rizen.
Rizen sighed. “Can I just get my flower and go?” he grumbled.
Unnya offered a one-shouldered shrug. She turned and shouted over her shoulder, “Rizen’s usual!”
“So what is the deal with the flowers?” Wanily hissed to Rizen. “Is it a big deal?”
Rizen sighed. “To some people,” he said, more bitterly than he meant to, thinking of Mom and the way they went unmentioned every week. “Women are viewed as more sacred than men in Lirende,” he murmured in explanation. “Something to do with a purer love that is more like the love of Amera.”
“Why can’t people just be treated the same?” Wanily asked, sounding genuinely confused. “Nobody’s better than anyone else.”
Rizen didn’t have an answer for that one. Why, indeed.
He was saved from having to respond by Unnya thrusting a single tulip in his face. Rizen took it with a huff and stepped aside as Unnya bellowed, “Next!”
Wanily fell into step beside him as Rizen began the trek back home, Ruffles taking up their rear. The tulip felt as heavy as lead in Rizen’s hand. “What happened with that soldier? Why were you so scared?”
Wanily didn’t look at him. “I wasn’t scared.”
Rizen rolled his eyes. “Okay, so you were shaking for no reason, then?”
“I wasn’t scared,” Wanily insisted. “That soldier was just... making me uncomfortable. He was looking at me.”
“And people aren't allowed to look at you?” Rizen drawled.
Wanily stopped suddenly. Rizen stumbled mid-stride when he glanced back and saw the sheer vehemence on Wanily's face. “He was looking at me,” she reiterated. “And... saying stuff.”
A chill raced down Rizen's spine. “What kind of stuff?”
Wanily crossed her arms. Rizen saw it before as an act of defiance, but he saw the truth of it now. She shrunk down on herself, self-conscious. “You know,” Wanily muttered, barely audible.
Rizen shouldn't know, but he did. No one should be making the kind of comments Wanily was suggesting about a child. A girl at that. Who did that soldier think he was?
To not know their customs, he probably wasn't from Lirende. Menish and Ninall weren't very far–just across Yve to the south–so there were plenty of swordsmen and swordswomen around, thrown away by their countries and looking for coin. Lirende was more than happy to offer it to them.
It still made Rizen's blood boil. He might not like Wanily, but that didn't make any of this okay.
“Where?” Rizen demanded.
“I was going to buy a cinnamon roll,” Wanily said. “Peyra gave me some money. She said she wanted to split it with me, but I think she also just wanted me to go into town for a bit. So I left and Ruffles followed me and when I was getting close to the square, I noticed the soldier following me cause Ruffles was growling. I knew you were over here buying flowers so I thought...”
Wanily trailed off, and Rizen was glad for it. He didn't know what he'd do if she admitted to feeling safe with him–or at least safer with him than just with Ruffles. But it still hung unspoken in the air between them, and Rizen let out a sigh.
Wanily thought Rizen was a bad person. Rizen knew that–she said it quite plainly back on the day they took readings by the creek. But she still went to him for help. What was he supposed to make of that?
She was still looking at him, eyes too wide and earnest. He had to say something. “We'll go back to the house,” Rizen decided. “And you'll be staying there until the tribune and his men leave.”
Wanily frowned. “What? Why do I have to hide when that man is the one in the wrong?”
“Because he is an important solider to be traveling with a tribune,” Rizen explained very patiently, “and you are a random orphan. If he does anything to you, even with you being a young woman, he’d probably walk away with nothing but a slap on the wrists. That is, if you don’t just disappear and the whole thing is swept under the rug.”
Wanily gaped at him. Eventually, her gaze fell to her feet. “Is that..?” She trailed off again before she shook her head. “Okay. I’ll stay at the house from now on.”
Rizen let out a slow breath. “Thank you,” he said. Amera knew he didn’t need more things to worry about, but he wouldn’t hold this one against Wanily. It wasn’t her fault some men were pigs.
They continued back down the road to Rizen’s home. He stopped with her by the stall selling cinnamon rolls, keeping a lookout while Wanily handed over the money Mom gave her–money Rizen had given his mother from things he managed to sell, though he tried not to be upset about that.
Rizen didn’t see anything or anyone suspicious, and when Wanily had collected the sweet, they continued on their way. Rizen tried to plot out what to do while they walked. Should he confront the tribune? Tell him that his man was acting out of line? Should he tell Mom and try to let her handle it? She was head of the household and in better standing with most of the town than Rizen simply by virtue of rarely being around often enough to leave a bad taste in people’s mouths. Or should he just let it lie, keep an eye on Wanily, and wait until the tribune and his men had left town? Rizen generally wasn’t one to be confrontational. If he could solve this problem by avoiding this problem, he would happily do so.
Should he tell Mom though? What would she even do about it? Storm up to the tribune and demand he set his man straight? Make a fuss out of what was, potentially, nothing? But what if something were to happen to Wanily because he didn’t tell his mom? She could at least help keep an eye out. Rizen would just tell her to also let sleeping dogs lie. The soldiers couldn’t be in town for much longer anyhow.
They reached Rizen’s home without further incident, and Wanily was quick to head inside and go straight to hole up in the bedroom, Ruffles trotting inside after her. Rizen couldn’t blame her. At least with her safely burrowed under the blanket on Crizo’s old bed and eating her dessert, Rizen could worry about telling Mom and handling her reaction.
He swapped out the flowers on the kitchen table before he went and knocked on the door of Mom’s workshop. Then he knocked louder when he received no response.
That one warranted a response. “Is that you, Wanily?” Mom called.
Rizen tried not to be hurt that Mom thought it was the stray she’d taken in over her own son. After all, she had sent Wanily to fetch something for her–Rizen hardly ever bothered her while she was working.
“No, it’s me,” Rizen called back.
“Oh, Rizen! Hold on one second.” Mom sounded happy, at least. Though Rizen was certainly about to dampen that.
There was a clattering on the other side of the door, then it opened, revealing Mom in her wheelchair, smiling up at him. She motioned for him to move back, and he did so, allowing her to roll out into the kitchen and take her usual spot at the end of the table.
“Did you happen to run into Wanily while you were out?” Mom asked.
Rizen came around to sit at his usual seat at the opposite side of the table. He looked at the flower in the middle of the surface. Mom didn’t. “Yes,” he said carefully. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Mom’s face fell. She let out a sigh. “Rizen, I know you don’t like her, but I was hoping the two of you would eventually get along. I thought a peace offering might be in order.”
Bewildered, Rizen furrowed his brow. “You’re talking about... the cinnamon roll? I thought that was for you?”
“That’s what I told Wanily, but I was going to have her give the other half to you,” Mom said. “As much as you don’t like her, I don’t think Wanily likes you much either, so I wasn’t sure if she’d agree to my plan.”
Gee, Rizen wondered why Wanily didn’t like him. Was it being constantly rude to her or threatening her or just a general distaste for Rizen’s presence? The world would never know.
Rizen kept those thoughts to himself. “None of that matters,” Rizen eventually said, at a loss on how to address any of that. “Wanily–”
“It does matter,” Mom insisted, cutting Rizen off. She looked pained, suddenly, and Rizen already didn’t like whatever she was going to say next. “Rizen... I think Wanily should stay with us. Past winter.”
Like Rizen needed the clarification. “Mom–”
“I know she wants to learn magic. To–To go off in the world and find some old magic teacher that will show her the secret inner workings of the universe. But she’s awfully young to be doing all that. I think she should stay with us, at least until she’s a few years older.”
What about me? What about what I want? Rizen didn’t say that though, and this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have right now. Besides, there was no way Wanily would want to stay with Rizen after everything that happened. It was more than the fact that Wanily didn’t like him–she was afraid of him. And she wanted to learn magic. She wouldn’t let Mom get in the way of that.
“A soldier was following her,” Rizen said before Mom could get in anything else. “Making eyes at her and apparently giving lewd remarks.”
Mom’s eyes grew so wide they appeared to pop out of her head. “And you left her in town!?”
Is that the kind of person you take me for? Rizen almost asked. It burned on his tongue until he let out a slow, measured breath. “She’s in the bedroom,” he said with glacial calm. “I assume trying to forget what happened. So no, I didn’t just leave her there.”
Mom swallowed hard, audible even from Rizen’s place across from her. “I didn’t mean–”
“It’s fine,” Rizen said, not interested in listening to whatever she was about to say. “She came to me, and I wasn’t about to turn her away. I told her to stick close to the house until the tribune leaves town.”
“We should talk to the tribune,” Mom said. “His soldiers can’t be acting like that.”
“His soldier hasn’t done anything,” Rizen pointed out. “What is the tribune going to do?”
“We can’t just do nothing,” Mom insisted. “What if something happens to Wanily?”
“You–” Rizen stopped, biting his tongue hard to stop himself from saying something he shouldn’t. You didn’t care when things were happening to me and Crizo, he wanted to spit out. But he carefully wrangled that thought back and strangled it in a corner of his mind. Mom hadn’t known. Mom didn’t know. It didn’t matter anymore. “Nothing will happen to Wanily because she will stay close to the house. And Ruffles is smart, I’m sure he’ll stick around her as an extra precaution.”
Mom gave him a look that was a mix between skeptical and disappointed. “Do you want something bad to happen to Wanily, Rizen?”
The dark thing, forgotten for weeks now, fluttered inside Rizen’s chest, beating against his ribs. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he spat before his thoughts could catch up with his tongue. “I’m trying to help her right now, and you think I’m so terrible that–”
He cut himself off when he realized Mom was gawking at him, her expression laced with hurt. He immediately deflated, something itching and crawling under his skin. “I’m sorry,” he quickly murmured. “I didn’t mean–I’m sorry.”
Mom visibly collected herself. “No, you’re right, that was out of line of me. I–I know you’re not that kind of person, Rizen. But sometimes, you just seem like...”
She trailed off. Rizen was torn between desperately wanting to know what the end of that thought was and avidly hoping he never found out. Eventually, his cowardice won out, and he let it go. There was no reason for her to, but if Mom said Rizen sometimes seemed like his father, Rizen wasn’t sure what he would do.
Even if it was the truth.
“I’m going to keep an eye on Wanily,” Rizen said softly. “I wanted to let you know what was going on so you could do the same.” Rizen stood, calmly pushing in his chair and moving toward his room. Mom let him go, staring down at her hands clasped in her lap.
When Rizen entered his bedroom, he found Wanily sitting against the headboard of the bed’s frame. Ruffles was too big to fit on the bed, but he was trying anyway, his hind legs on the ground but his front paws and the rest of his body sprawled across Wanily’s lap. Wanily rubbed his ear with one hand, but her gaze immediately snapped to Rizen when he opened his door.
“Were you fighting with Peyra?” she asked before Rizen even shut the door behind him.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he muttered, heading to his bed and sitting heavily on it. He rested one elbow on his knee and pressed a fist against his forehead.
Amera, what a day. It wasn’t even dark yet either.
“Was it because of me?”
Rizen looked up at Wanily. She stared back, her hand laying still on top of Ruffles’ white head.
Rizen could say yes. He didn’t have to beat around the bush with Wanily. She was just a stranger living with him for a few months. Rizen hadn’t made any effort to get to know her–not before that day at the creek and certainly not after. He could hurt her, and it wouldn’t matter because soon she’d be gone and Rizen could move on with his life.
“Like I said,” Rizen murmured, “don’t worry about it.”
“Your mom loves you, you know,” Wanily blurted out suddenly. “A lot. She wishes you were closer. She’s told me so dozens of times.”
Rizen felt his hand drop away. When he was younger, he often felt like the world was too big for his words. All the things he felt and all the things he thought, they all faded away because he didn’t have the right words to express them. It was why, after he found that book in Crizo’s nightstand, he wanted to be a poet–to capture every experience he could with something as powerful yet flimsy as language. He never wanted to be at a loss of words–a loss of expression–again.
Now, though, he was once again bogged down in the reality of not knowing what to say.
He knew Mom loved him. In a distant but sure fashion, like how he knew if he traveled far enough, he’d reach the ocean. It wasn’t something he thought about often, but it was something he knew to be true. He hadn’t realized, though, that she cared about him much beyond that. Rizen was the boy who took care of things around the house while she worked and who also happened to be her son. That was all he thought she saw him as.
She wanted to be closer with him? But, did he want to be closer to her?
That was his mother. He loved her, he knew that much. But it was not out of choice that he loved her. He didn’t like her, he realized. Was that just him being vindictive because of things Mom didn’t know about and were outside of her control, or did he actually not like her?
He wasn’t sure, and that was as bad as not knowing what to say.
“Stick close to Ruffles from here on out if you go outside,” Rizen said instead of addressing any of that. “He’ll help protect you.”
Wanily pursed her lips. She obviously had something to say about Rizen’s sidestepping of the conversation, but she eventually let it go, turning back to focus on petting Ruffles. Rizen shucked off his boots and laid down in bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling.
Mom loved him. Would that change if he told her the truth about Dad and Crizo?
It didn’t matter. Rizen wasn’t going to tell her, Wanily would still be leaving when spring came, and things would go back to normal.
----------------------------------------
Rizen woke slowly, blinking his eyes open. His mouth was terribly dry, and his body felt as heavy as his eyelids. Sleep still clung to him, and it was a battle of will to sit up and stretch.
The first thing Rizen noticed was that it was dark. Barely any light filtered through the window. The second thing he noticed was that Ruffles and Wanily were gone from the other bed. Rizen hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He just hoped the two of them hadn’t gotten into any trouble while he was.
He got up and opened the door of the bedroom. Immediately, the soft tones of two voices carried in from the kitchen, and sure enough, he found Wanily and Mom sitting at the table, eating dinner. Rizen didn’t care to look what they were eating, and he didn’t pause on his way past them.
“Rizen?” Mom called from behind him. “Where are you–?”
“Out,” Rizen said. “The tavern.”
Just like your father, a voice whispered in the back of his head. He mercilessly stomped that voice out.
He opened the front door but paused, glancing back at Wanily. “Stay safe,” he muttered.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Wanily gave him an uneasy smile. “Okay.”
Rizen grunted and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. Ruffles was nowhere in sight, and he hadn’t been inside with Wanily and Mom. Hunting in the woods, then, perhaps? Rizen couldn’t find it in himself to care much what the cwn annwn was getting up to.
He was in a foul mood, he could feel that much. He didn’t want to hang around his house while that held true. Without any real friends in town, that left him either going to the woods or to the tavern, and it was too cold out to be traipsing around the forest at night. So, he would go to the tavern, buy something small to drink, and brood over his mug in the corner of the room. He hadn’t even grabbed his journal, not that he felt much like writing right now.
He made the trek into town. There was hardly anyone out at this time of night, and most people that passed him didn’t even bother with a greeting. Not that Rizen did either.
When he made it to the tavern, he stopped outside it and looked through one of the front windows. Inside, there were people inside sitting around the various tables, chatting, laughing, having a grand time sharing the company of friends. He even spotted the sheriff and the deputy off to the side, talking with and smiling at anyone that passed by them. There was a warmth permeating the building from more than just the roaring fireplace.
That dark thing in Rizen’s chest reared its ugly head. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like going in.
He’d already walked all this way, but he turned around and went right back. A stroll through the woods, surrounded by the chill of the winter, would help clear his head, hopefully. At least, maybe it would tire him out enough that he could just go home and go back to bed. Sleep off the storm cloud that was hanging over his head.
It was a little while until he was passing McLaney’s homestead and cutting across the fields into the woods beyond. Already, as he passed the edge of the forest and picked his way through the underbrush, he could feel some of the tension in his soul fading away. The woods had always been a sanctuary for him. Even after everything that happened.
Rizen stopped after about ten minutes of carefully making his way into the forest. He stood in the middle of the woods and just breathed. Breathed in the stingingly cold air smelling of dirt and must. Listened to the soft noises of animals scurrying in the brush and branches somewhere in the night. Scanned the spaces between trees around him, gazed up at the dark sky above him, lit with the light of a half moon and the inverted U-shape of the constellation Zom.
It really wasn’t all that late. Rizen would have to stay out here for a while yet if he hoped to get any sleep tonight.
Rizen let out a long, slow breath, watching it billow out in front of him in a white cloud and fade into nothingness. He felt better, he thought, but he would stay out for a little while longer, try to tire himself out. Laying in bed with nothing but his thoughts didn’t sound very appealing. He wanted to be able to go to sleep when he returned home.
He started forward again, and without thinking about, even moving through the dark, he found himself heading to the creek. Maybe not the best place to go if he wanted to improve his mood, but Rizen couldn’t find it in him to stop himself.
The creek was a place of endings for Rizen, after all. And for some reason, tonight felt like an ending. Rizen would blame Wanily for that.
Rizen moved around the trees, using the position of Zom to help orient himself in the darkness. He shouldn’t be all that far from the creek. But what would he do when he got there? Just sit around, in the dark, in the cold, waiting for the frenzied thing in his chest to calm?
Well. He didn’t really have any other ideas.
His fingers and toes were well on their way to being numb by the time the tiny clearing by the creek came into view. Immediately, Rizen knew something was wrong. There was something lying by the creek, something big and–if the way it rose and fell slightly at even increments–breathing. That was what really concerned Rizen. To find a dead deer or other creature left strewn about the forest was one thing. A wolf or their magical cousins could have done that. But, under the bare brush light of the moon, Rizen could tell the beast had a white coat and red ears and tail and was still breathing. The sound was wet, pained, and if the dark puddle surrounding the beast was anything to go off, Rizen understood why.
Rizen's heart shot into his throat. It–It had to be a different cwn annwn. That couldn't be Ruffles laying there in a pool of his own blood.
What could even take down a cwn annwn in the middle of their own territory?
Rizen flicked his gaze around the clearing, searching for any sign of a threat. Everything else was still, quiet. The only thing around seemed to be the dying cwn annwn.
It was probably stupid to step out of the cover of the forest and investigate. But if that was Ruffles, Rizen had to know. He had to try to help him.
He slunk out into the clearing, one careful step in front of the other, until he stood next to the cwn annwn. Kneeling down, he tried to take better stock of the situation.
It was definitely Ruffles, and Rizen felt his heart seize in his chest. There was a long gash running along his belly, bleeding sluggishly and spreading the puddle on the forest floor. Ruffles cracked his eyes open when Rizen knelt beside him, the red irises focusing on him as he let out a low, pained whine.
Rizen, at a loss for what to do, laid his hand on Ruffles’ head. “It's okay, buddy,” he murmured. “You're alright. I'm going to go get help, okay?”
Ruffles let out a long sigh of a breath, closing his eyes again. Rizen froze, terrified–but Ruffles was still breathing. He was still alive.
A place of endings, Rizen thought deliriously. But this would not be Ruffles' end. Rizen would get help.
But then, who could help him? He needed a potion or a mage that knew healing magic. Deputy Griff, he thought. The man had white hair–he might know how to heal. If nothing else, Griff could get his hands on a healing potion and Rizen could find some way to pay him back for it eventually. Anything to save Ruffles.
Rizen stood, his gaze still locked on Ruffles’ face, certain that the moment he turned around, Ruffles would take his final breath. The last thing Rizen wanted was for him to leave to get help and Ruffles to die alone in the woods on a cold winter's night.
Rizen took one uncertain step back. The moment he did, a scream rang through the woods. “Help!” The voice cried. “Help me!”
Wanily's voice.
Rizen froze. On the ground, Ruffles let out another agonized sound and made a sorry attempt to get his legs under him. His paws twitched, scrabbling in the mud created from his own blood.
Rizen forced himself to take a breath. Then another. Should he help Ruffles, his only and most steadfast friend since his brother left him, or Wanily, the stranger he never bothered to befriend? What was she even doing out here? If she got into trouble after Rizen told her to stay the fuck inside, shouldn't that be her own problem?
“Please–” Wanily, screaming again, but the sound abruptly cut off.
The dark thing hammered the inside of Rizen's chest. Whatever had attacked Ruffles had to be what was going after Wanily. Rizen would bet anything that it was the soldier from before. But that still didn’t answer the question of why Wanily was out here, and how the soldier knew she would be. Or maybe he hadn’t known and was just trying to remove Ruffles from the playing field so he could get to her, and Wanily’s added presence was just happenstance?
Rizen could walk away. He could go get help for Ruffles, claim that he hadn’t heard Wanily calling for help. What were the chances the soldier even let Wanily live after he was done with her? Rizen could leave her to her fate, and the thorn in his side from the last couple of months would be effectively removed.
He could leave, just like Crizo had done to Rizen. He might not be the one hurting her now, but he had in the past. Just like Dad.
But who did Rizen want to be?
Rizen glanced down at Ruffles one last time. Ruffles hadn’t lifted his head, but he looked at Rizen from the corner of his eye, panting slightly. Rizen wasn’t sure exactly how intelligent Ruffles was, but the way he looked at Rizen at that moment seemed imploring.
“Fuck,” Rizen murmured. Then, he was off, racing through the forest in the direction he’d heard Wanily’s cries sound moments before. “Wanily!” he shouted, maneuvering through the familiar landscape as easily as if it were daylight. “Where are you?”
“Rizen!?” Wanily’s frantic voice answered somewhere to his left. He took it as a good sign she was at all in a position to even respond to him. “Where–?”
Rizen veered in the new direction, leaping over bushes and vaulting over fallen logs. He was less familiar with this area of the woods and was eventually forced to slow his pace, keeping up a light jog instead and cursing every time he ran into a low-hanging branch. “Wanily?” he called again.
Something shot out of the darkness toward him, and Rizen just barely stopped himself from reflexively lashing out at the blur of yellow in the corner of his eye. Wanily barreled straight into him, threatening to knock him off his feet, and Rizen immediately grasped her shoulders, allowing her momentum to carry him back a step.
She was shaking under his touch, and when she looked up at him, her tear-stricken face crumpled. “Rizen,” she wailed, burying her face into the front of his coat, probably getting snot all over it, “I’ve never been so glad to see you.”
“What’s going on?” Rizen demanded, scanning the woods around them, searching for the threat. For now, he didn’t see anything, but it was also cursedly dark–he might not notice the danger until it was upon him. He quickly gave Wanily a once-over, but though she was disheveled and obviously distraught, she didn’t seem to be hurt. Small blessings, he supposed.
“I fought with Peyra,” Wanily whimpered. “I came out here ‘cause I knew Ruffles was out here and I thought I could blow off some steam. But Ruffles...” She trailed off, sobbing in earnest. She took a great, heaving breath, and continued, “That soldier, the one from before, he got him. And he was about to finish him off when I showed up, and then he started chasing me, and I was running and shouting for help even though I didn’t think anyone would hear me but–”
“Alright, alright,” Rizen said, drawing a step away from her–or trying to. Wanily clung stubbornly to the front of his coat and shuffled forward as he moved back. “We can’t stay here, then,” he said lowly. “We’ll go back to town, get the sheriff and the deputy. They’ll help us.”
He desperately wanted to know what Wanily and Mom had fought about when they seemed so chummy the rest of the time, but that could wait until later. Rizen couldn’t fault Wanily for not wanting to be home after a fight with his mother, and she had still tried to follow Rizen’s direction to stay near Ruffles. It had backfired, but she hadn’t been stupid about everything, which was what Rizen had been mostly concerned about.
“Ahead of me,” Rizen barked, gripping Wanily by the shoulders again and steering her until she stood ahead of him on the way back to town. That left his back exposed to the rest of the woods, but better him than her, he figured. “Start moving,” he snapped, when she just stood there for a moment.
Instead of following his direction, Wanily backed up, eyes wide and breath coming fast. “He’s there,” she hissed, pointing off somewhere ahead and to their right–blocking off their escape route.
But how did she know? Even when he squinted, Rizen couldn’t make out anything in the darkness.
Rizen almost demanded she tell him how she knew, but for now, Rizen would just trust her.
He pushed at her until she was behind him again. His heart hammered in his chest, and he racked his mind for what to do. The soldier had a sword. Rizen and Wanily were in the middle of the woods, and if they died out here, Mom probably wouldn’t even realize they were gone until the morning. He’d told Mom about the soldier, but that didn’t mean anything. It would be her word against the word of the soldier, and Mom might be a woman but the man was high-ranking. Besides, if the soldier was smart about it, Rizen and Wanily’s bodies wouldn’t even be found until he was long gone. And then what would happen?
In the end, though, the future plans of the soldier didn’t matter when he was trying to hurt them now. Rizen needed to focus, come up with some plan of attack. Otherwise, he was sure the only one whose blood would be spilled was his. And probably Wanily’s.
“He’s coming straight for us,” Wanily whispered, hands fisted in the back of Rizen’s coat.
“Where?” he asked. He still didn’t see anything.
“I think he heard us earlier,” Wanily continued, just as soft. Rizen was about to snap that she needed to answer his question when she pointed ahead of them again and said, “Maybe twenty paces out?”
Rizen swallowed hard. “We’ll try to circle around him, then,” he decided. “Just be quiet.”
He shuffled to their left, both trying to watch the ground to avoid stepping on any noisy forest debris and trying to keep an eye on the surrounding trees for any glimpse of the soldier. A glance back confirmed that Wanily was sticking close to him, moving just as slowly, so it seemed that she didn’t have some type of extraordinary ability to see in the dark. So how was she able to see the soldier?
Rizen pushed it from his mind once more. He could ask her later, when they weren’t in danger any more.
Rizen stopped suddenly, holding out an arm to force Wanily to do the same. Somewhere to their right, he could hear rustling and the scuff of leather boots digging into the hard ground. Rizen kept his breathing slow and steady. Next to him, Wanily gripped his arm, her breath stuttering and short but still, thankfully, quiet.
“I know you're out here,” Rizen could hear the soldier mutter. His voice matched him–slimy and low. “Come out, come out, little one. That boy with you won’t be able to save you. Maybe he’d even want to join me.”
Wanily made a tight, choked sound, clinging harder to Rizen’s arm. Rizen didn’t bother shushing her. He found himself moving before he even realized it, yanking himself from Wanily’s grasp and rushing forward, toward the direction the soldier’s voice had come from. The dark thing in Rizen’s chest felt like it had finally broken free, snapping through his blood like crackles of lightning and setting his soul ablaze in a way he’d never felt before.
Reason was not the driving force behind Rizen’s actions. But once he started moving, he didn’t stop himself.
Because Rizen had already killed one monster. He could kill another.
The soldier would hear him coming. He had a sword, and all Rizen had was his fists. But then, the trees of the forest would limit the effectiveness of a blade like the solider’s–he wouldn’t be able to slash at Rizen without risking the blade sinking into a tree trunk. Rizen could use that to his advantage.
Rizen didn’t let himself think about the future. He didn’t know what repercussions he would face from this decision. All he knew was that he wouldn’t let this man hurt Wanily–or leave this place and hurt someone else.
It wasn’t born of anything altruistic, really. Rizen could end this soldier’s life. His hands were already stained with blood. What was a bit more?
Between two trees, the man’s darkened silhouette seeped into sight, the sword in his hands glinting as he turned to face Rizen. Rizen didn’t allow himself a moment of hesitation. He barreled forward, twisting when the soldier’s arm moved. Quick as a viper, the soldier struck, aiming to stab Rizen straight through. Rizen threw himself to the side, his shoulder smacking straight into a tree. The soldier turned the stab into a swipe, bringing the blade in an arc toward Rizen. Rizen waited half a heartbeat before he lunged forward, away from the blow. To his left, the soldier cursed when his blade became lodged in the tree.
Rizen didn’t give him the opportunity to wrench the weapon back out. He used his momentum to tackle the soldier’s legs, bringing both of them down to the ground. The soldier cursed harshly as his weapon was ripped from his grasp. Rizen was on top of the soldier in the next instant. He aimed straight for the man’s nose, swinging his fist down.
The soldier wiped away Rizen’s attack with a grunt, pushing at Rizen’s forearm with his own. Rizen’s fist connected with the cold, hard dirt of the forest floor, and the next thing he knew was pain blossoming across his cheek when the soldier struck back.
Rizen let out a hiss of pain and tried again, using his other hand, to break the soldier’s nose. The soldier was too quick again, catching Rizen’s fist and twisting. Rizen cried out, but the soldier didn’t stop there. Using his momentum, he did something–all Rizen knew was that one moment, he was on top of the soldier, and the next the soldier was on top of him. The soldier rained his fists down, over and over. Rizen tried to block the attacks with his arms at first, but the soldier batted them away. Pain blazed across Rizen’s face and he felt something give under one of the soldier’s blows.
Through the agony, Rizen felt a wave of calm wash over him. He had tried. He had failed, but he had tried to kill the soldier. At least Wanily would be long gone by now. She could go to Mom and tell her that Rizen was dead, just like Rizen had told Mom Dad was dead. Slain in the forest by someone who would never face justice.
Wanily said Mom wanted to be closer to Rizen. She would never get that chance if Rizen died here.
Rizen tried to fight back, he did. Tried to get his fists around the ones battering him, but the soldier blocked him every time. Tried to flip the soldier over or buck him off, but while Rizen was stronger than some from the work he did everyday, he wasn’t as strong as a martially trained soldier.
Maybe it wasn’t even worth it. Maybe Rizen was better off dying and being remembered as a hero rather than the snappish child that killed his father.
Eventually, the soldier stopped hitting him. Rizen barely felt like he could breathe. Was his nose broken? He couldn’t tell amongst all the other pain. But then, a pain came lower, from his throat, the feeling of it being crushed. It was a feeling he remembered well, and Rizen thrashed, seizing the soldier by the wrists and trying to pry his hands from around Rizen’s neck. Above him, through the murkiness of Rizen’s swimming vision, he could just make out the soldier’s smiling face.
The arrogant find themselves in early graves, Rizen thought, unbidden, as the world around him began to fade away and his kicking slowed. As do those with hands stained. Who cares about the death of someone so plain? Is the world better off without their pain?
“You tried, boy,” the soldier’s sickly voice cut through the haze filling Rizen’s mind. “This is why you shouldn’t play the hero.”
All Rizen ever did was try and fail and try again, it seemed. But the soldier was wrong because this time, Rizen was successful. He gave Wanily a chance to get away from him. Rizen clung to the knowledge even as his thoughts began to slip away.
A spray hit Rizen’s face at the same moment the pressure from his throat disappeared. Rizen tried to gasp, but all he got was a mouth full of something thick and tasting of iron–blood. Was he bleeding?
Rizen spat it out as something heavy pinned down his body. Rizen blinked, inhaling sharply–or trying to, only managing to start coughing–as he stared into the glassy brown eyes of the soldier laid bonelessly on top of him. Rizen shoved his body off and scrambled back, tiny rocks and sticks digging into his hands, until his back hit a tree.
Just beyond the form of the soldier, Wanily stood, a bloodied sword gripped in her hands, its point facing the earth and dripping steadily.
Rizen wheezed, raising a hand to his tender throat and trying to make sense of the situation. His front was covered in blood, and he couldn’t tell if all the blood on his face was from the soldier or he was bleeding somewhere. It was probably the latter.
The sword fell from Wanily’s suddenly slack fingers, landing on the forest floor with a thump. Wanily stared at it, then the body of the soldier. Blood had begun to pool under his prone form from a stab wound that must have ran straight through his chest. A stab wound Wanily inflicted with the soldier’s own sword.
Wanily took in a deep, shaking breath. Her gaze snapped to Rizen. “Are you okay?”
Rizen tried to answer, but all that came out was a croak that sent daggers slicing through his throat. He winced and settled for a nod.
Wanily stared at him for another moment before nodding vigorously. “Okay,” she said. She looked to the body of the soldier again. Tears welled up in her eyes, glistening in the weak light of the night. “Okay,” she said again.
Rizen grimaced. Fuck. Wanily wasn’t supposed to–
It was supposed to be Rizen. He was already a killer. Wanily shouldn’t have to be one, too.
“We–” Rizen started, only to be interrupted by another harsh cough. He swallowed past the pain and resolutely continued, voice rough, “We need to get help. For Ruffles.”
Wanily nodded without tearing her eyes off the soldier. She didn’t move as Rizen climbed to his feet, steadied by a hand on the tree. He started forward and waited to see if Wanily followed. It took a few seconds, but eventually, she did, her wide eyes now trained on Rizen. He would allow her to stare this once.
He was a little turned around, but he was able to just make out the constellation Vessa peeking through the treetops and used that to figure out which way he needed to go to get back to town. He lurched into motion, using the trees he passed as crutches until Wanily ran up to walk beside him. She seized his hand and lifted it up to her shoulder, setting it there. When Rizen glanced at her, she nodded to him, and he let some of his weight fall on her.
She was crying, too, but Rizen tried not to think about that.
They trekked through the woods, the only sounds Rizen could register being his own labored breathing and a faint ringing. Neither or those were a good sign, but he just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The last thing he needed right now was to collapse and leave all the aftermath to Wanily. He wasn’t sure she would even be able to find her way back to town in her state–if she even knew how to get there and wasn’t just following Rizen.
Rizen didn’t speak. Mostly because of his throat but also because he didn’t know what to say. He hated it and hated himself more with each passing second, but what was someone supposed to say in a situation like this? He didn’t even know what Wanily was thinking, but judging by the fat tears rolling down her cheeks, it wasn’t anything good.
By the time they stepped free from the underbrush of the forest and passed the tree line, Rizen’s vision was swimming. He could barely make out McLaney’s homestead just a little ways away. Blinking hard, he forced himself to relax the death grip he had on Wanily’s shoulder and stopped.
“Rizen?” Wanily sounded worried. Panicked, even.
“Just–” he gasped, trying to focus past the pain in his throat and roaring all over his face. “Just give me a second.”
“Can you make it all the way into town? Should I go get Peyra?” Wanily’s voice was downright frantic now, and she gripped Rizen’s wrist so hard he could feel it compared to everything else. “Are you okay?” she demanded.
“We’re not getting my mother involved in this until we have to,” Rizen gritted out. He forced himself to start walking once again, and Wanily had to move with him or risk having him fall over. “I can make it. We’re getting Deputy Griff, and he’s going to go help Ruffles.”
Wanily suddenly disappeared from under Rizen’s hand, and he nearly toppled over, barely managing to catch himself. He shot a glare at her, but she glared right back. She took two steps away from him, fierce despite the way her cheeks were stained by tears.
“Sit down,” she said.
“Wanily–” Rizen started, but she made a sharp motion, silencing him.
“Sit down,” she barked. “I’m telling Peyra you’re out here, and then I’m going to get the deputy.”
Sitting down sounded positively wonderful. Rizen remained stubbornly on his feet. “We’re not telling my mother–”
“Why not?” Wanily demanded. “Why do you think–?”
“Rizen?” another voice sounded. Rizen started, whirling toward the source, heart in his crushed throat. He relaxed a fraction when he saw it was just McLaney himself, holding a candle in one hand and a wand in the other. He must have heard some of the screaming earlier–or at least Rizen and Wanily yelling at each other at the edge of his property–and had come to investigate. He approached the two of them warily, and Rizen tensed again when he asked, “Is that blood?”
Wanily looked to Rizen, clearly seeking his direction in what to do and who to trust. Rizen tried to take a deep breath, but it was more stuttering and painful than anything. “We need the deputy,” Rizen rasped.
“You need to sit down, son,” McLaney said. He rushed forward the last few steps separating them, setting the candle in its holder on the ground and tucking his wand away. He gripped Rizen by the arms and helped him lower himself to the ground. Rizen dropped the last of the distance with a grunt, landing hard on his ass on the stiff, grassy ground.
“I can get the deputy,” Wanily said. “Can you stay with him?”
McLaney nodded to Wanily. He had to have some idea who she was, even if Wanily had failed to interact with McLaney during her stay. “Be quick,” he said. “They’re probably at the tavern or at their station.”
Wanily nodded and raced to the road. Rizen watched her go through half-lidded eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. He desperately wanted to just go to sleep. Maybe never wake up.
What had he been thinking? They could have just snuck past the soldier but instead Rizen had fucked everything up. What did he think was going to happen? That he would actually be able to kill a highly trained soldier and just walk away from the encounter?
And now Wanily had blood on her hands, just like Rizen. She’d lost something that she could never regain.
She should have just left him behind. She should have just saved herself. Instead, Wanily had come back for Rizen’s pathetic excuse for a soul. Even after everything Rizen had done to her. After everything Rizen had done.
“What happened, son?” McLaney asked him gently, standing beside him.
Rizen wanted to press the heels of his hands to his eyes. He knew that would just make the pain worse. Already, he was pretty sure the area around his right eye was swelling. “One of the soldiers that came with the tribune,” Rizen rasped, “he’s been killed.”
“By you?” McLaney asked, no discernible judgment in his voice.
“He was going to hurt Wanily,” Rizen said, instead of answering him. “He was going to rape her and–and stuff her body in a log somewhere in the forest. Or he would let her live and she’d come back to us and he’d get to just keep walking around and go off and do it to some other little girl.” Rizen squeezed his eyes shut. “I hate her,” Rizen hissed, surprised by his own conviction. “I hate her, but I couldn’t let that happen to her.”
“Alright.”
“And–And I’ve already killed before,” Rizen continued, though he didn’t know why. It felt like the words were water pouring up out of him, and he couldn’t hold them all back if he tried. “I killed my father. I know you know. Everyone knows. Everyone except–but none of that matters because I thought this time–this time I could actually protect someone instead of just trying to help myself.”
There was suddenly a hand on Rizen’s back. He jumped at the touch, but it was just McLaney, of course, kneeling beside him now. “Breathe,” the man commanded.
Rizen became aware how fast his breath was coming. He forced himself to draw in a great breath, one after the other. His face was wet, and Rizen didn’t think it was just blood.
“I wanted it to mean something,” he whispered. “I wanted the blood on my hands to mean something.”
Instead, Wanily had to carry the same weight that he did. Rizen wouldn’t have wished it on anyone.
“Just keep breathing, son,” McLaney said, rubbing small circles into Rizen’s back. It felt wrong, somehow, but Rizen couldn’t deny that it was also extremely comforting. “It’ll be alright, you hear? You’re a good kid. Everything is gonna work out.”
Rizen just nodded. He didn’t trust his voice and his throat hurt anyway. That’s what he told himself.
It wasn’t much longer until the beat of hooves sounded in the distance and rapidly grew closer. Rizen, lulled into a half-asleep state, immediately tensed again. McLaney patted him on the back one last time before he moved to stand. Rizen tried to follow, but McLaney pushed down on his shoulder, a sure signal to stay on the ground. Rizen sent the man a half-hearted glare but did so.
It felt like an eternity and also like no time at all until the horse slid to a stop beside Rizen and McLaney. There were three figures on the horse’s back, the one in the middle significantly shorter than the other two, and the front one raised the lantern in his hand, casting flickering light over the worried faces of Sheriff Xyle, Wanily, and Deputy Griff.
Deputy Griff wasted no time in swinging off the horse, taking the lantern from Sheriff Xyle. He turned to Rizen. “Where is he?”
“I can show you,” Wanily said, pushing herself from Sheriff Xyle’s back and sliding down. Griff used his free hand to help steady her when she landed, and she nodded to him. She motioned him to follow as she broke into a run. “Hurry!” she called over her shoulder.
Deputy Griff started after her, the lantern in his hand swinging as he jogged to keep up with her. That left Rizen, McLaney, and the sheriff with only McLaney’s candle for light.
Sheriff Xyle swung off the horse, handing the reins off to McLaney and kneeling before Rizen. The man had a deep furrow between his brow. “I thought I told you to stay out of trouble,” Xyle said, taking something from his belt. Rizen half-expected him to produce some type of manacles, but Xyle just snatched one of Rizen’s hands and placed a small, glass bottle in his palm. “Drink up,” he ordered.
It took Rizen a couple of tries to uncork the bottle, but he eventually managed. He was mostly sure it was a healing potion, but at that point, Xyle could have handed Rizen rat poison and he might be inclined to drink it down all the same.
He brought the cold glass to his lips and swallowed the shockingly bitter liquid back. Rizen grimaced at the taste, but after just a few seconds, the pain in his face began to subside and his head stopped swimming. His cheek started to twitch as whatever had given beneath the skin knit itself back together. Even the pain in his neck began to fade. Everything still hurt, but it was a dull ache, like the blows were days old instead of fresh and fierce.
Rizen took a deep breath through a nose he felt like he could actually breathe through and it didn’t burn running through his throat. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gave the bottle back to the sheriff.
“How’s that?” Sheriff Xyle asked him, accepting the bottle and hooking it back to his belt. Rizen just nodded, not trusting his voice for reasons unrelated to his injuries. “What happened out there, Rizen?”
Rizen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What did Wanily tell you?”
“She said one of the tribune’s soldiers was dead and that your cwn annwn was badly injured.” Xyle stood. “She also said you were hurt pretty bad. So, I’ll ask you again: what happened?”
“How much do I owe you for the potion?” Rizen asked, looking down at his hands.
He wasn’t watching him, but he could hear the frown in Xyle’s voice. “I’m not going to make you pay for that potion, Rizen. I just need you to talk to me. Did the soldier attack you?”
“He told me the soldier was going after the girl,” McLaney supplied when Rizen didn’t reply. “Rizen stopped him.”
Sheriff Xyle grunted. “The tribune isn’t going to be happy,” he muttered. “Those mercenaries don’t come cheap, and they tend to ask for a lot upfront. But you did the right thing, Rizen.”
It didn’t feel like it, Rizen thought. They didn’t know the whole story. Rizen wasn’t saying anything, couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He should tell them the truth, that Wanily had to save him because he’d been so stupid. But it felt like his mouth was sealed shut.
McLaney said something else to Xyle, but Rizen couldn’t bring himself to focus on the words. He let the sound of their conversation wash over him without finding any purchase in his mind. He felt like his soul was drifting away, untethered from his body. He was still so tired.
It could have been a few minutes. Or an hour. But eventually, someone called, “Rizen?” He looked up, blanching at the person gazing down at him.
Sitting in her wheelchair, Mom watched him with unmistakable worry. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, and Rizen dropped his gaze to stare at them instead of her face. When did she get here? Had he really been so out of it that he hadn’t noticed her arrival? What was she even doing out of the house?
“Are you–” She started, then stopped, shaking her head. “Well, of course you’re not okay. What happened?”
Rizen slid his gaze to where McLaney and Sheriff Xyle were standing off to the side, watching them. Sheriff Xyle had the grace to look away, pretending to give them privacy though he was obviously still listening. McLaney didn’t put up any such pretenses.
Rizen didn’t stop himself from pressing his hands against his eyes this time. “Where’s Wanily?” he croaked. If he had missed Mom’s arrival, he might have missed the deputy and Wanily, too.
“Here they come,” Sheriff Xyle said, crossing his arms and nodding back toward the forest.
Rizen glanced over his shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight that met him. Wanily walked next to Ruffles with Deputy Griff flanking them, the group slowly making their way from the woods over to them. Ruffles’ white coat still glistened with red under the moonlight, but his ears were up and his steps sure–if slow.
He was alright. And Wanily walked beside him. She was alright, too.
No thanks to Rizen.
Deputy Griff stopped next to McLaney, but Wanily and Ruffles continued past him and the sheriff. Wanily plopped down right next to Rizen, folding her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. Ruffles sat on the other side of Rizen, sniffing at Rizen’s cheek with a cold nose. It shocked Rizen enough that he almost felt like he was waking up, his soul chased back into his body.
Mom was still watching Rizen expectantly. He almost told her that nothing happened. He had every intention of uttering those words, saying, Nothing happened, everything is alright, I’ve got it handled. Don’t worry, don’t worry, don’t worry.
Instead, he found himself saying, “I’m exactly the person you thought I was.”