Ben was dreaming. Child Ben loved the woods, nobody bothered him in those. There were no mean kids in the forest, and animals didn't make fun of orphans. The little Boy was going to show them. He would bring a big, fat rabbit and everyone in the village would love him, even the nasty old crone with her stick. But all parents did that to bad children so it was fine, she was only trying to be his mom. Ben nodded to himself, confident in his bounty, meat would make everything alright. He resumed his way towards home, through thick bushes and big trees, smiling at his good fortune. The sound of people screaming in the distance startled him for a moment. Then he began running towards a small rise.

Tiny Ben was now staring in horror at the view in front of him. Downhill and a hundred paces away, his hamlet was infested with men he had never seen before. Men dressed in metal and carrying ugly weapons, treating the villagers roughly. Thick smokes were rising from homes and the scent reached Ben's nostrils. There was something else in the smell, something scary the boy didn't recognize. A few kids were lying on the ground unmoving, a red liquid covering their bellies. Women had their clothes torn and the intruders made them scream. A few familiar faces were trying to run away frantically, chased by the mean foreigners. Ben didn't like the villagers much, but he felt bad for them all the same. Surely they didn't deserve this.

It was night now, and the boy still stood in the same place. He has been there for hours, crying and scared, while all the bad things had happened. He had wanted to run to his home and help everyone, but his body had not listened. Little Ben felt terrible about his cowardice, and that didn't help with the tears. The dangerous men were gone now, so were the fire and the screams. Gathering his nerves, he took a few tentative steps towards the horrible scene.

Through burnt down homes and an ominous silence, the little boy wandered slowly, fighting his fear. He jumped in fright when a loud crashing noise relented in the night. A house’s roof had come down, it was the carpenter's. There should be survivors, Ben told himself, they couldn't possibly be all gone. He wished to see someone, anyone, even the big kid who bullied him so often. There he was, Ben almost shouted in glee, recognizing a face in the rubble. He drew closer to the other boy, what was he doing lying on the ground? It was no time to be resting. He swallowed hard, took the tiny hands in his and pulled. Ben fell on his butt together with his load, before screaming in fear at the sight. Where had the big kid's legs gone to? Ben felt his stomach turn, and he vomited.

The boy had now grown up a little, and he was angry, so very angry. It had been a couple years since his home was attacked, and rage had been his sole companion. There were a lot of men around him but those didn't count, he had seen what they could do. Ben regretted the mean old woman with her stick, she had never hurt him as much as his new companions did. They beat on him as well, but sometimes they did other things, things Ben didn't understand. He thought those were supposed to be done with a woman. The mercenaries he had joined might even be worse than the ones who came that terrible day. But they fought for the other side, so the boy gritted his teeth and endured the pain stoically. Soon, he would be old enough to hold a spear.

Ben was a teenager. He was standing in the middle of chaos, mayhem like he would never have imagined before. From all directions, bodies pressed against him, screams of rage assaulted his ears, blood was splashing over his face. He had peed his pants his first time in such melee. The second once had not been much better, for he had stood frozen with fear. But now he knew what to do, if he ever wanted his home back and the pain to stop. It was hard to distinguish friends from foe amidst all the madness, but it didn't matter. He had no friends, not anymore. All the men around him were like the ones who came to his hamlet that horrible day, they were evil. So Ben grabbed his spear and stuck. Red was fogging his vision but he kept going. Again and again, ignoring the screams and the guts, he stuck his lance. It felt right.

Climbing atop a tree was now an older boy, almost a man. He could see ahead the one thing that had kept him going, the reason he had endured years of abuse and violence. Ben's village stood proud in the middle of the forest. Houses had been rebuilt, and no signs of its dreadful past could be seen anymore. One more battle, just a single more, and he would be back. He wondered how many had survived, would he recognize the other kids? They had probably grown up now. For the first time in years, the angry boy smiled a little with the expectation. Soon his nightmare would end.

Ben fought better than ever. Maybe his enemies were not the same ones from back then but they stood in his home, they needed to be gone. His spear was flying from one foe to another, Ben didn’t need to think, he just followed the bronze tip. His body was trying to tell him to stop, but he ignored it. Wounds would not matter later, when it would all be over. It was different than other battles, the rage was not a red haze this time, it grew a bright, intense white. It boiled from Ben's gut and spread everywhere. He pierced anything that came into view. His arms gave up after a while, but that didn’t stop the boy. He still had teeth. After a while, someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him off a man’s throat.

Sometime later, Ben was in the middle of his village, surrounded by a dozen corpses. This was when it happened all over again. He stared, wounded and powerless, as the mercenaries did what they always did after a battle. They killed, raped and plundered. For the second time in his life, Ben watched in horror as his home was ripped apart. And once more, the only things he could do were to scream and cry.

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The following year went in a whirlwind of agony and self-hate. How could he have not seen it coming? He had known what kind of men he had been following. He had not done anything to save his home the first time and hated himself for it. This time had been worse, he had even helped with the destruction. He was an aimless, empty shell now. Pointing his spear where he was told during battles, bearing the beatings silently the rest of the time. There was nothing to live for, only pain.

But one day, the pain stopped. Ben didn't really pay it mind then, it didn't mean much, just a small respite. No abuse came on the morrow either, surprisingly. But after a third evening without suffering, Ben began to wonder why. Using his voice for the first time in a year, he asked questions around. There was a new camp follower they said, a whore. Women were scarce in the Wilds, the ones Ben usually saw were either dead or running away from soldiers. Curious, he started following her. She seemed annoyed by it, so he kept his distance. The mercenaries preferred to abuse her instead of boys, he realized. Ben felt grateful towards the whore, but it was her behavior that astonished him the most. She smiled, laughed and joked with the men. She cursed even worse than them. The woman did all that despite the bruises, cuts and broken teeth she received. She was his savior, an angel who came down to save him. Her name was Mae.

****

Ben woke up from his dreams on the floor of a small, dusty room. A tiny window shone some morning light on the stone walls. He was in the criminal's hideout, the one brown coat used near the docks. The young man turned his eyes to the bed and found the whore there, scowling at him.

"What? Ya still pissed?" He asked drowsily. Mae kept glaring. "Who cares about yer Parkhat anyway? We'll find him when yer not sick anymore." He yawned.

"Don't you tell me what I care about! You cunt spawned little shit! Tree humper, bird-sucker..." Ben watched the show for a while, smiling like a child. "Ah! You must be happy now, to have imprisoned me here with a friggin’ doctor."

"Don't like the bastard. Smells funny." Ben observed as he sat up on the floor.

"That's how proper doctors smell, idiot bumpkin. Well, I like him at least, he has good drugs. So don't you go and friggin' stab him." Mae warned him.

"Now Mae, why woud I do such thing?" He frowned.

"Oh i don't know, why? Maybe one day you decide you can't stand him and he disappears. Like back in the Wilds, with some of my clients." She pointed.

His younger-self had understood some time after they had met, that she was not as strong as she seemed. Ben had seen the look in her eyes sometimes, when she thought no one was looking. Evil men had been hurting his angel, she had needed help.

"Folks die durin' the war, happens all the time." Ben shrugged.

"Strange that, after I get a nasty bruise, they'd find the culprit lying in the forest. With friggin' bits chopped off." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Plenty of mean beasts in them woods. Do right nasty things to corpses, those sure do. " He nodded to himself as he said so.

"It happened every friggin' time Ben. Don't play dumb with me." He gave her an innocent look, and she rolled her eyes.

He had been surprised back then. Once finding his resolve, facing his former tormentors had not proved so difficult. Younger Ben saw them as terrifying giants, and the abuse as something inescapable. In the end, they reacted the same as everyone else when you stuck them.

"I heard the hood and his thugs talking, they seem worried about Chaffaud. Something big is happening, it ain't good I can tell."

"Aye, aye. Ya told me already." Ben shrugged.

He couldn't see how the two of them could do anything about it. He had realized since a long time, that a lone man could not protect a whole village. A single woman was enough damn work. Cleo had apparently decided she didn't need his help and it was a load off his shoulders, he tried to convince himself. But how would the Lady provide for herself? Couldn't she at least tell him where she lived? Ben worried about the girl, she attracted problems like Gravelroy did with filth. Damn trouble, you found some at every corner these days. Ben wanted to go back to the Wilds, trouble was simpler to deal with over there.

"Maybe the Lord wants to overthrow the Parkhat. I fear for Gravelroy if he does, he's a friggin' cunt, I tell you. I have to protect the city from him, Ben." Mae seemed really anxious about it.

"What you have to do, is listen to the damn doctor and sleep! Damn stubborn woman! What is..."

The door opened suddenly, interrupting them and revealing Brownie. A couple thugs followed behind, looking ready for a fight. Their boss was not wearing the hood inside, Ben noted, his face was as boring as tailing him had been. He was closely shaved, with dark eyes and chestnut hair. He also seemed furious.

"You should knock, before entering a woman's room." Mae protested

"Where are they?" He cut her off angrily. Ben was surprised, Brownie had seemed so calm before, even in a situation involving lots of knives.

"Dunno what yer talkin' 'bout." He frowned.

"I believe I have been more than generous with the two of you, so you should understand my displeasure. My employer had been through the scrolls you procured and he believes some are missing." Long coat said in a hard voice.

"Gave ya all I got. I counted them, as many as I took from Chaffaud's." Ben shrugged.

“Do not lie to me.” Brownie interrupted. “There is nothing in them which explains…”

"That little cunt!" Mae exclaimed. Both men turned to her in surprise.

"Ya mean she..."

"Shut up Ben, you've messed up my plans enough as it is." She interrupted him, before composing herself and turning to Brownie. "It seems our associate has kept something from us, the most important letter, I assume. If your boss is willing to show himself then..."

"Don't you try to negotiate again, whore! You will find the letters, right now. I don't have to describe the consequences if you fail." The coat shouted and the henchmen growled from his side.

"Dunno where to find her, but we have a meetin'. I'll go and get the damn scrolls." Ben answered. "I need a sword. If more of Chaffaud's bastards show up, I don't wanna fight them with a knife."

"Don't give him a weapon. He'll make an even bigger mess of things if you do." Mae objected.

Ben ignored the rest of the conversation and left in a hurry. Cleo had betrayed him, but that was far beside the point. She had put Mae’s life in danger. The woman thanks to who he had stopped fighting like a rabid dog, the one who had taught him to care for his own life. He began running, anger boiling inside him.