Afton struggled with all his might to cover Alistair with the quilt. (He had lost a lot of blood and thus, a lot of strength.)

Gah! The quilt... is so... heavy!

The door opened and Afton froze. It seemed time stopped, but his heart was beating faster than a bullet flies.

“Afton! P.sss. Here!” came a familiar voice. He relaxed so quickly that his stomach hurt.

Those kids... do they wish for death? They cower before the enemy and scare me without thinking!

The door closed quietly and right inside stood...

“Wison!” Alistair squealed.

Wison jumped onto the bed with them.

Now, the bottom-half of the queen-sized bed was doomed. (Wison had more wet mud on him than seemed possible.) Using it as a sort of trampoline, the two of them bounced up and down on the bed while Afton stared on in disbelief.

Here I was, thinking about how angelic Alistair was... Looks more like a mischievous puppy to me...

They made such a ruckus that it was a wonder no one came to check it out.

Wait a minute... How... did they get in here? Do the guards slack off that much or are they just that smart?

Afton turned to look at the two bouncing creatures...

Nope... Definitely not because they were smart.

“Afton! Tell us! What happened after we left?” Wison laughed, tackling Alistair.

“Yeah,” Alistair cheered, but then, as was his nature, he went on, “Wison came back looking as pale as death. I shan't mention Jazard. Wison must have dragged him half the way back! They stayed in bed crying until dinner.”

“No! I didn't! I got up right before dinner!” Wison protested, “Jazard got up at dinner!”

“Whenever they got up... I'm not so sure. But I'm positive that they told the most scary horror story of all times!”

Afton smiled inside. The big-brother-love swelled up in his heart as Alistair continued the narrative.

“Jazard shivered so horribly that he spilled more than half his whole bowl of soup! Wison got more people crying for a report than I ever got! It was hilarious. So much that I didn't know whether to be envious or amused!”

“Was... was I that good?” Jazard asked, blushing slightly.

“He told the tale with the best face ever! It was pure white! Could have passed for a ghost! The fear was evident in his voice as it shook the way only a first-hand horror could make a voice shake.”

Jazard began turning white, no doubt, because he had flown back to the night in that dreadful truck. Alistair opened his mouth, but the voice was that of Wison's.

“It was so terrifying... that my shivers could have caused an earthquake. The soldiers captured us, their hands felt as thick as tree trunks. There was no escape,” Wison said.

Clearing his throat, Alistair took over, “...as they were being dragged away from the hero lying asleep throughout the ordeal, their voices left them.”

Hmm...

“They were thrown into a dark, dungeon-like truck. Across them sat two figures with red eyes and another creature without a head. Imagine the horror of being forcefully deported from one's own land!”

“It's... it's more than a simple terror...” Wison said, turning whiter still.

“Imagine the surprise when their hero himself entered the truck, the touched hearts of the rescued when the hero says, ““Take me instead! They have done nothing wrong. Let these boys return to their homes.”” Would they not respect him even more?”

“I thought he was going to die,” sobbed Wison, flying back to the past.

It ended up that Wison sent the letter to the king, who, upon receiving it, immediately sent backup.

These group of soldiers... were the ones who brought him back.

“So, Afton, you haven't said anything.”

Afton ruffled both of their hairs and lay back down. (They didn't know about the wound yet.)

“Come on, Afton!” Wison cried, jumping upon his... left thigh.

“Argh!” Afton yelled, jerking forward and clutching at his left leg.

Pulling back the quilt, revealed the reopened wound and the bloody mess one playful pounce made.

“Afton... I'm so... sorry,” Wison whispered, guilt overcoming him.

Gah! The smell... it's so... Gah...

Alistair didn't stop to think. Rushing out of the room without further ado, he cried for help 'til he lost his voice.

****

Two hours and there isn't a single person who heard this? What's going on outside?

“Afton! Can you hear me?!” Wison screamed, though to Afton, it sounded as a faraway voice.

Afton nodded ever so slightly.

“You have to rest! Your body is shutting down! Do you understand, Afton?” Wison shouted. Afton nodded again.

Strange... What's going on? Strange... very strange... Are we even safe here? Strange... so strange... it's... cold. Very... cold. I'm... cold... frightened. Where's my locket?! Where...?

“Afton! Stop moving already!”

But... I need it. My locket...

Not heeding the warning, Afton fainted again...

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

****

“Where are you?! Come out, now, I'm safe. I'm alright... My little brother. Again... I lost my brother again...” a little girl ran through the forest, calling for him.

“Answer me! Please... don't be so stubborn now. I'm looking for you. I'm more worried than you can ever imagine. Answer me! Cry out. Say something!” she screamed.

Her dress was torn at the front-right hem, she had run out barefoot and they were cut by the crispy leaves that had fallen.

“Answer me... Say something!” she cried. Falling upon her knees near the bank of a lake, she broke down.

She looked at her reflection in the lake.... “Where are you?” she whispered, “I'm so worried... Are you hurt? How badly? Are you scared? By whom? Are... Is this all a bad dream? A nightmare? Will you appear when I wake up?”

A teardrop broke through the untouched surface of the lake and a snowflake followed soon after, floating lazily down to the lake. Another tear... another snowflake... Soon it was snowing, freezing up the lake, slowly but surely.

-Change scene-

A little boy opened his eyes just a little. Lying with a bed and quilt of leaves, he was so cold, so sad, so worried. Too much to even give up and die.

A little snowflake floated down toward him. It touched his hand with a natural warmth, as if reassuring him.

“Kaylie. You're alive. You're well,” he whispered through purple lips, “thank you. It's warmer now...” and the little boy closed his eyes, clinging tightly to the tear-drop-shaped locket.

So close... yet... so far. Lying in the ditch, if he had the strength to even look up, he'd see her. If she'd just looked down she would have found him...

But the little girl walked away, and the little boy lay unconscious.

****

Afton woke up feeling faint. Pushing the hair away from his face, Afton felt something hard and cold fall on his nose.

My locket?

He put the locket back on his neck and sighed. There were so many thoughts to sort out in such a short time. The terrible headache he had just made matters worse.

Where are they? It's so quiet? Gah... my leg's not responding to anything.

There was a little whimper from the side of his bed. Looking over...

“Alistair!”

The poor boy had a cloth in his mouth, his hands were tied behind his back, as were his legs.

Wison...

Wison was also lying on the floor in similar conditions, just with a little cut on his forehead.

“So... you're awake, little person,” soldier #2 sneered into his face. Ten or so other guards all had their pistols aimed at his head, ready to blast his brains out at the slightest movement.

Why does everything happen when I'm not conscious?

“Your name was Afton, wasn't it? Heh, whatever it is, you did a good job of scaring us all and wrecking our parade,” soldier #2 scoffed.

Another soldier spoke up, “Looks like he's a little impaired. Could it have been the work of one of those dear people when they lay in their own pools of blood?” he cried.

Soldier #2 cut him off impatiently, “Afton, where's the girl?”

Let me get this organized. Alistair shouted until he got their attention? Wison ran out and found... no no no, can't be. I still had it more than a day's journey away by truck. Oh... that's starting to make sense.

“The girl! Speak up or we'll blow the little kid's brain!” soldier #2 snarled, gesturing to Alistair.

“Ah. About the girl. If you blow his brains, I'll blow hers,” Afton retorted.

“Don't try to be cocky! Apparently, you don't know all there is to her! So... boy, tell me, where is the girl? Kill her, hang her, do anything you want, kid, I don't mind just taking her dead body.”

Thump thump... thump thump... thump thump... I can't protect Alistair. I... am an unlucky wretch.

“Will you still not talk?” soldier #2 cried, impatience rising, temper begin to boil over, “Bring the little boy here,” soldier #2 whispered hoarsely.

They dragged Alistair, whimpering and whining, over to face Afton. “Watch carefully,” soldier #2 said to Afton.

An icy cold shiver flew down his spine at an unbearable speed. This soldier... there was no sign of the friendliness he had seen in his eyes.

They take their job seriously... or that girl must be very... no, more than important. She must be vital to the victory of Chrision... Gah! My head is spinning.

The soldier took out a knife and began slicing the back of Alistair's hand down to the fingernail.

Sweat poured out from Alistair's forehead in streams. He was biting hard into the cloth and squeezing his eyes shut.

Afton could see Alistair was trying, he could see Alistair was hurting.

Do they not even have a sense of pity for these children?

Another wave of pain dashed through his head, he began blacking out. Afton closed his eyes to ease the pain...

Don't you dare... Don't you dare!

His eyes flew open and everyone could sense a sort of dark aura about him.

“Just you try,” he said calmly, looking soldier #2 in the eyes, “just you try. I dare you.”

Soldier #2 was slightly taken aback at such a sudden change in attitude, though he did quickly recover.

“Ah. I forgot to tell you what would happen if you play the game with me,” Afton said, still locking eyes with soldier #2, “I shall take my revenge upon you. I'll repay you ten thousand fold... if you dare touch one more hair on my Alistair's head.”

The dagger had slipped out of soldier #2 's hands.

He's safe...

Suddenly, the bed fell forward with such a force that Afton slid off and crashed into Alistair. With his arms around his precious little brother, Afton left again.

****

“Youw wa shadow. I'm a light!” the little, dark blue-haired girl giggled, pulling a short, little, dark-brown-haired boy.

“Shadows doan talk. Like you. De-ar so quiet, cold, and left behind,” the little girl explained.

“I will be your light from now on! When you're scared, just come to me. The light will put you behind and protect you. See? Wook at de moon. He's the light. He hugs you and puts you behind, protecting you,” she said, pointing at the crescent moon.

“I'm very very strong. So strong that you didn't see befoa. So twust me. I will protect you.”

****

“If you take one step toward any of them, I'll kill you. You know I'm capable of that.”

****

“Come now, what's your name?” the little girl asked.

The little boy already had his eyes to the floor and just shook his head.

“Wew. It's ok! I'll just be your sister until youw tell me your name! Being an older sister means ow'll protect you. That's juz what older sisters do.”

****

“You... you hurt a child. Have you no pity?”

“Kaylie... I... didn't know... you were here.”

“Then you should watch your tongue unless you don't want it anymore. And you should also watch your temper. If it blows too quickly, your head will too. I'll make sure of that.”

****

“So. If you truz me, take my hand.”

The little boy looked at her face shyly before looking down again.

“Come on. I'm not going to hurt you.”

Slowly. Cautiously. Nervously.

“I won't force you. Juz do what you want. Ow'll take care of you either way,” she said.

The little boy bit his lip, closed his eyes, and took her hand. He took a big step over his fears... to entrust his care into the hands of a little girl.

“Yay!” she squealed, hugging him tightly. Slowly, nervously, he put his arms round her too.

“Now let's go home! Youw my family now,” she announced, dragging him away...

****

“Hurry, Afton's awake!” Alistair whispered.

Wison was at his bedside in an instant. His cut had been cleaned and there was a white kind of paste on it.

Afton groaned and took Alistair's hands. The cuts were deep, though not bleeding any more.

“Who?” he whispered.

“Kaylie did it,” Alistair said, “she cleaned all our wounds and sewed the deep ones up. She even sewed your cut up.”

“Kaylie... where is she now?”

The two of them looked at each other sheepishly before looking at the floor, ceiling, practically at anything besides Afton himself.

Suddenly, they heard approaching voices outside. Alistair and Wison froze for a moment before dashing for the window.

“Faster, Alistair!” Wison whispered urgently.

“I'm trying!” Alistair whispered back, trying very hard.

“Hurry!” Wison urged as the sound of footsteps became clearer.

There came the knock... and then the opening...

The king beheld a somewhat strange scene. At first, he couldn't believe it and had to rub his eyes a little. But then...!

There were eight little fingers clinging onto the window sill but what was more astonishing, was the fact that there were a pair of legs slowly inching out of the window!

“G... ge... ge... guards!” he screamed, pointing a finger at the empty window.

A few attendants rushed to his side to see what was the matter.

“They... they came to assassinate our dear scout!” cried the king, jumping up and down in his excitement. If a passer-by were to look in, they would've thought the king mad. He was sweating now, not daring to take a step toward the window, yet pointing at a formless individual without saying a word. He looked as frightened as if he'd just seen a ghost.

The attendants turned a little pale. Some even sobbed, “The king... has finally lost it.”

Unnoticed by all, Afton sat on his bed paler as the sheets, fearing for the lives of his little friends, for theirs were the two legs and white fingers.