“I don’t care what was said, you were told not to take any action!”

Even with his voice echoing harshly through the woods and the rest of the rebels furiously avoiding his gaze, Aidben still glares up at Cyrus, as if the bigger he puffs himself up the more sense his argument makes. As one of the youngest and highly opinionated members of their little band of thieves, it was only natural he’d challenge authority. That didn’t mean Cyrus was going to go easy on him though.

“If you were really doing what you promised we’d be out there right now fighting the bastards instead of hiding here, waiting for them to kill us!”

Cyrus puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder and digs his fingers in just enough to make him wince.

“I am not leading a bunch of brainless street trash,” Cyrus says. “This is a revolution. We need to be one step ahead of them, and we need to think with our brains instead of our hearts. If you can’t do that, then you’re better off shooting sticks and shit with the other little orphans on the palace steps. Go see if they can use you as cannon fodder, I’m done!”

Cyrus wanders off to put out the rest of his ten million burning fires, but he’s distracted through it all, chewing the inside of his lip and wondering if he was too harsh on the boy.

I probably could have handled that better, he admits, sighing after triple checking their borders for the night. It was dangerous to be so close to Bastia, their guards ever on the lookout for Cyrus and his band of rogue villagers, but they needed to be alongside The Gold Road if they had any hope of intercepting food, weapons, and supplies before they reached the kingdom’s gates.

This is a war! Cyrus reminded himself for the thousandth time, I don’t have the luxury of coddling the rage of the poor hapless youth. They can fall in line or be lost in the fray…

Call him selfish, stupid, and mean, he was going to win this war for his people and he was going to do it soon. Cyrus had no more time for being nice.

It was on his way back through the forest toward their camp when he heard the first branch breaking. Then another, and another…

Whoever it was seemed to be taking a leisurely stroll through his territory, and well, he couldn’t have that. It would be unseemly for the local ruffians not to rough somebody up. He’d scare them off and maybe get a satchel of gold out of it for his trouble. All in a day’s work-

Except, when Cyrus stepped behind a tree in order to prepare his surprise attack, the sounds of movement stopped. Confused, he waited with bated breath for a while in silence, noticing the distinct lack of birds in the area, as if they’d all been spooked.

“What are we looking at-”

“Ah!”

Spinning, Cyrus just about collided with the man but managed to gain control of his limbs. The idiot had somehow been able to sneak up behind him and was just standing there, staring patiently, like Cyrus wasn’t about to rob him for all he was worth.

“You, you!” Cyrus huffed, taking the blade from his sleeve and using it to gesticulate as he caught his breath.

“You scared the hell out of me! Don’t you know it’s dangerous in this part of the forest at night?! Are you stupid?”

The stranger smiled brilliantly and for some reason, Cyrus felt his mouth go dry.

“You’re here,” the man said matter-of-factly. “Are you stupid too?”

Unable to think of a retort, Cyrus sighed deeply and brandished his weapon at the stupidly beautiful man, because beautiful or not, he was going to get robbed, it was just principle at this point.

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“Jewelry and valuables,” Cyrus motioned. “Come on, cough it up. I know you’ve got something on you, what with all that silk.”

Oddly enough, the stranger began to empty his pockets. Hmm, Cyrus didn’t think his rusty hunting knife was very imposing, but maybe to a lovely guy like this it wasn’t worth the risk. He probably had plenty of money wherever he lived, he might not even miss whatever Cyrus could get his hands on in order to feed his people.

The young man was more than happy to give over about a dozen pieces of finery, along with two money pouches. Cyrus weighed them in his other hand and hummed, about to stow his knife and be on his way with a warning, when the stranger blocked his path and said-

“What are you going to do with it? The money.”

Cyrus nearly rolled his eyes, but something in the man’s tone made him pause. He could choose not to answer. He could lie, or just run away…

“I’m going to buy food for my people and weapons to help them revolt against our tyrannical King. Why, what were you going to do with it?”

Again, shockingly, the man smiles.

“Can I see?”

Against his better judgment, Cyrus leads the stranger back to their camp, muttering about a dozen warnings that if he tries anything he’ll just get Cyrus’ knife in his back for his trouble. The crazy man follows him jovially, practically talking his ear off about his travels, and then when they get to the main clearing he goes very still and quiet.

Cyrus already has his hands full with the villagers approaching him with requests for help, and by the time he remembers he’s just led some random person into their midst, he looks over and finds said stranger on the forest floor, playing and roughhousing with the littlest children who still happened to be up.

That’s it, Cyrus thought to himself, watching two little girls putting pigtails in the man’s light blonde hair as he played pattycake with a young boy. He’s insane…

…and really fucking adorable, but that’s beside the point-

“Oi, you there! Stranger.”

“Solis.” The man says, without even looking up.

Cyrus blinked, stopping in front of him and the children and scowling.

“Excuse me?”

The man just smiled, “Solis. My name. Now, we are not strangers.”

Cyrus rolled his eyes, ready to just throw him out when he looked again and saw the little boy; Emry, was his name, already curled up and asleep in Solis’ lap. Despite himself, Cyrus felt his heart soften. The children deserved to get all the sleep they could. How could he possibly interfere?

The look on Solis’ face was one of extreme peace, like it had been his goal all along to befriend the children of the forest and soothe all of their fears. Cyrus was more than a little embarrassed to realize he was jealous, seeing others get that kind of no-strings-attached comfort when he was stuck fighting for their survival everyday.

Unlike the kids, his nightmares were never soothed, but oh how he wished a kind stranger would come into his forest one day, scoop him up, say; “Rest now, you’ve done enough. You’ve done well-” and that would be the end of it.

Throat tight, Cyrus was aware he sounded too hostile as he jabbed a finger at the man and barked-

“Stranger or not, you still can’t be here. Don’t you understand? We are in contempt of the King, he will kill you, and us if he finds us here!”

Solis just patted Emry’s back and thanked the two little girls for his new ridiculous hairstyle. They giggled and then hurried off to find their mothers. When Solis’ eyes at last raised to him, Cyrus found himself speechless at the amount of conviction in their amber-gold depths.

“And if I told you I could help? What then?”

Cyrus smirked, unable to stop from sizing the other up.

“Oh, my apologies Young Master! How dare I not see all the advantages of using your expert skills in my war. Please, enlighten me! What could you bring to our cause, besides bushels of gold and lullabies.”

To his surprise, the other man thought deeply for a moment.

“Do you not have a need for gold and lullabies?”

Cyrus was struck dumb and before he could regain his wits, several of his people approached him with inquiries and he was stuck once more with his millions of burning fires… the exhausted young man didn’t even realize that by the time he was finished for the night and had turned in to sleep a measly two or three hours, he’d completely forgotten the stranger again.

Ah, let him stay, Cyrus thought, already drifting off with a bone-deep tiredness that sucked him quickly into the murky hollows of sleep. Who am I to turn away one more lost soul? Let them all congregate here; fools, the lot of them!

Cyrus, a thief down to his very core, slept that night without a clue of the god in their midst. He couldn’t have known that this stranger was his long lost love, nor could he have known of all the ways in which this god would live to wound him.

If he had, Cyrus might not have slept as well as he did, listening to someone humming gently from beside the burned-out flames.