I ran.

I didn’t know what else to do. I saw my opportunity and I had to take it. I knew he would be after me the moment I slipped away, I could hear him barreling down the street behind me. If he caught me he would… do it all again to me. I was too bone-thin to put up anything more than what could be called a pitiful effort of resistance. My ragged clothes barely clung to my body, the marks of his “kindness” running up and down my body. I could feel the chill night air bite into my flesh, the cobblestones digging into my feet with each and every step. But with my heart pounding, with terror and the faintest sliver of wildly driving hope, I was able to ignore the pain even as I cried out with each little cut and jab.

Everything before me was cramped houses and twisting paths. I ducked this way and that, squeezing through cracks and twisting my way through buildings. Some part of me knew it would be no good. He knew this part of town too well, and no matter how hard she tried, she could only hope to make it to the open streets. Maybe there a guard would see her and what had been done to her. Maybe they would take pity on her, taking her somewhere, anywhere, other than the cramped little basement she’d been stuck in ever since her brother left. 

I managed to make it to an alleyway, one that if I made it around the bend, I’d reach lantern-lit streets. My heart soared, even as my foot cut itself on shattered glass. I cried out, smacking my face against the earth as I fell onto a filthy path. I felt something crunch in my nose, even as my skull snapped back from the force of the impact. I didn’t see anything for a good few moments, the shock of pain surging through my body. When I came back to, I felt tears streaming down my cheeks, blood and snot pouring from my nose, and spat out bits of my teeth. But I had to go on. I was so close!

“What have you gone and done to yourself now, girl?” an alcohol-addled voice snapped.

I turned on my back to see him, Halfor, stalk forward. He was a thickset, filthily bearded man, his supposedly once battle-worthy body bloated from constant indulgences. His hair was dark and scraggly, his red face and jowls quivering from the effort of having managed to chase me so far. Faded scars and indecent tattoos dotted his stinking bulk, one of his meaty hands clutching an iron rod worn down by use. Despite my pain-addled state, I flinched at the sight of the device. 

“Papa, please,” I begged, falling into the voice that had occasionally managed to placate him. “Don’t-”

“Oh, ya think you can go and tell me what to do?” he snapped, holding himself up with menace. “You charge out of the home I work so hard to maintain, and for what? Bodil woulda never forgiven you.”

Despite my situation, I felt icy fury wrap its grasp around me. Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was exhaustion from my flight, or maybe I was simply just done enduring everything the bastard had put me through. Instead of trying to further placate him, I snapped, “Mother would’ve carved your jewels off if she saw what you were doing now.”

Only when I said the words did I realize the horrible mistake I had made. Shock only briefly registered on his face before his features became dark with anger. He lumbered towards me with a terrifyingly slow pace, knuckles white around the rod. I tried to back away, to crawl back to my feet, but I didn’t have the strength for either. 

And I knew he was going to kill me.

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With that realization, I closed my eyes. There was nothing else I could do, besides whimper helplessly and whisper, “Help me.”

I could hear him thunder forward, his heavy footfalls slamming into puddles and wet rock. But just as he got close enough for me to smell the reek of foul meats, cheap liquor and poor smoke on him… nothing happened. Was I dead, and just hadn’t realized it? But no, the grave couldn’t hurt this much, could it?

Hesitantly, my heart thrumming with fear, I opened my eyes.

And I saw another bit of metal had intercepted the rod.

“What seems to be the issue here?” the mild-mannered question emerged from quite possibly the strangest man I had ever seen.

He was clad in a robe of beautifully pale feathers, wrapping his body up like a cloak. He was only a little taller than Halfor, but much thinner. But instead of being as stick-thin as myself, he was lean, lithe, more like a tightly bound rope than a strand of thread. And he was strong, strong enough to hold back the rod with the silvery sword held in just one hand. There was something quietly furious in his shining, pale eyes, though I felt… calm with him here. The anger emanating from this man seemed more to be on my behalf than anything directed at me.

It was a strangely comforting sensation, one I had never experienced before.

“Piss off, birdie,” Halfor burped. “Give me and mine the privacy a family deserves.”

The stranger’s eyes regarded me for a moment. I could feel him noticing my scars, my bruises, and I could almost feel the rage pouring off him. 

“And what sort of man treats his own child this way?” the stranger asked, still in that deceptively mild tone. “This doesn’t seem to uphold the familial values that warrant such discretion.”

Halfor snorted and took a step back, still keeping the rod raised “She ain’t of my blood, but she’s mine all the same. The whore mother up and died, leaving me with the brat and her brother.”

Sune, I thought to myself, closing my eyes.

“I see,” the stranger said coldly. “Regardless, I think your duties as a ‘father’ have come to an end. I will give you this one chance to walk away now.”

Rage roared behind Halfor’s eyes. “And who are you to be giving me ultimatums? Back away, thin bones, and I won’t leave you in a puddle of your own piss.”

“Last chance,” the stranger replied, anger finally colouring his voice.

In response, Halfor shouted at him, spittle flying in a burst. He charged the stranger, rod raised high.

And less than a heartbeat later, he was dead. 

I blinked, shock temporarily forcing back the pain. I had barely seen the stranger move. Yet in but a moment’s fraction, Halfor was lying on the ground without a head. 

“How?” I whispered, seeing that disgusting cornerstone of my life suddenly… gone.

“Child,” the stranger said, kneeling down. “Your condition is grave. You are starving, bleeding, infected, have a broken nose, and shattered teeth. I can heal you, but I will do nothing but by your will. Will you allow me to help you?”

Groggily, I nodded.

He put a gentle hand on my forehead, and I felt warmth flow through my body. It banished the pain, faded the scars and bruises, closed my wounds, banished the constant itches and headaches I’d been having for the past year, and made me feel more… peaceful than I had in a long time. But the effort also seemed to further exhaust me. I felt the nearly undeniable urge to fall into a deep, comfortable sleep. Comforting darkness began to settle on my vision, and I began to drift off into unconsciousness.

The last sensation I felt was being gathered up in someone’s arms, the ease of which I was being carried almost strangely comforting. The last thought I had was of Sune, gone for so very long.

Where are you, brother?