The child didn't move. Wariness showed in his face still, but there was something else there as well - a bit of hope perhaps? Indeed, his presence here reflected hope, as well as need. Were I him, I would have run immediately.

"Are you alright?"

I was shocked to hear his voice - I could understand his words. Apparently misunderstanding my silence and looks, the boy walked away. Disappointment slowly grew in my chest, only to change again to confusion, pleased confusion this time, when he reappeared. He had some sort of bowl, carved roughly from what appeared to be half of a fruit, and a handful of what I was hoping was the interior of that fruit. He came back, and sat next to me. Without speaking again, you lifted up the bowl, and placing his other arm around my shoulders he did his best to lift me up. I strained my back muscles as strongly as possible to help him, and together we got me sitting up, and sipping water. He then lifted the handful of fruit towards me; I could now see that it was resting in pieces on what appeared to be a few large leaves. I ate.

Thank you friend.

This time it was the boy's turn to twitch in surprise; the fruit twitched out of his hand, and I could see that his feet moved in order to get him ready to run away.

Please stay. I mean you no harm. I am sorry I didn't respond earlier - that was quite an experience for me, and to be honest I didn't expect either for you to still be here, or to be able to understand you when you spoke.

"You... you aren't a Rhoner then master?"

My heart sank at being called master.

I am not a Rhoner my friend; indeed, I don't know what a Rhoner is. And please, don't call me master. I would rather be your friend.

Shock blossomed on the child's face as he looked, oddly enough, at my ears.

"How can you not know what a Rhoner is mast... sir? And... you are a master. Your ears..."

Understanding was growing in my gut, and making it sour.

I am not sure what I am child, but I am certainly not from here. I don't want you to be subservient to me. Please, call me Theo.

"I... I'll try. Theo."

I sighed, and sat up a bit more. I needed to get up and make sure I could still stand. As I pushed off the ground the child lifted up behind my shoulders without me asking him to. Gratefully I leaned on him and began walking a bit - he lead me downhill, until we were next to a quietly running creek. With his help I knelt by the creek, and reached out to cup water and wash my face.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

I froze.

The eyes that looked back at me looked familiar, but the face had changed. Wrinkles, small enough to belie old age, but deep enough to show pain ran through it. A wild beard grew unkempt on the chin. How had I not noticed a beard on my face? I touched my face... It felt strange, as if it was a mask. As memories flooded up, the whisper of Stephanos echoed in my mind.

"Shush child. Let the memories pass. Your face was earned, and you will remember the earning one day. For now, accept that it is new - just as you are new. You are no longer the bullied child you see yourself as. You are a man. What type of man you are remains to be seen, and also to be chosen."

Brushing away some tears, I stood again, and ignoring the child, walked slowly to a tree whose roots grew strangely above ground, but left a hollow space, almost like a chair. I gently lowered my aching body into the depression, and looked back at the child. He still hovered nearby. Hope seemed to have grown on his face, but the worry was still there, and I could see now that every moment I passed in silence grew that worry just slightly larger.

Well then, what is your name child? (It felt strange to name him child - he must have been only a few years younger than the age I was... well... whenever it was I had met Stephanos. Or, at least the child appeared to be that young. My own age sank back down on my mind heavily.)

"My na.. I... I..."

He didn't seem too upset; he wasn't crying. He simply looked... confused. Was he trying to remember?

"Trellen. My name is Trellen."

Why did you hesitate so Trellen?

"I haven't used my name ever since..."

Now his face had fallen, and small tears glimmered in the corners of his eyes. I hesitated to hug him - both for my own sake, and for the his. Who knows what his few years had held. Then again, given my youth, if I felt the desire to open my arms to this child and comfort him, perhaps he desired to be comforted even more. I compromised by opening my arms, but not drawing him in. He dove towards me and knocked my back into the roots hard.

Easy Trellen! I began to say, but I could hardly hear myself over his wails. This child may have endured much, no, certainly had endured much, but he also had a vulnerability I could not remember ever being present in my own solitary existence.

I held him for a time. Perhaps an hour. I wonder if his cries expunged more of his own sorrows, or mine.