Part Two

Sunflower

Hunter watched as Fields walked around the counter, moving to get a better look at Thomas. She said something that Hunter didn’t hear over the rolling emotions inside of him. He watched the reunion between mother and son, feeling something like bitter jealousy grow inside of him. As they hugged, Hunter felt a desire to leave, to run, to go, fill inside of him. So he turned away, leaving the crying woman and Thomas behind him as he walked outside.

The outside air was crisp, a stark contrast to the heat inside the bakery. He sat down on the front step of the stairs leading up to the front door, looking up at the rising moon and stars. The stars twinkled, looking far away from Hunter and his complicated feelings. They looked uncaring to the emotions inside of him, distant and cold from the events transpiring on Earth. Hunter looked down, staring at his clenched hands as he thought about the happy reunion happening inside.

He would never get that chance. He would never again experience a hug from his mother or from his father. They were dead and had been for years now. Nothing Hunter could do would change that fact, no matter how much he wanted to. Thomas, though, had the chance to reverse time, to meet his parents after years of thinking that they were gone forever. And Hunter found himself jealous of Thomas for that, and he also felt angry. Angry at himself for giving Thomas the chance, but also mad at himself for planning on not bringing Thomas here, never providing him the chance. Angry at the boy for experiencing something he would never get to have and angry at Thomas for being happy while he himself was upset. And underneath all of that, Hunter felt grief. He grieved for the fact that his parents weren’t here, weren’t here to hug him, to reunite with him. He grieved for Michael, a grief that only served to make even more angry, this time at the soldiers that had killed him.

It was a sea of emotions that left Hunter wanting to scream and cry simultaneously. It left him wanting to remove himself from his emotions and from what was happening inside the bakery, reminding himself of what he could never have. Instead, Hunter just clenched his hands tighter and closed his eyes, focusing solely on his breathing that threatened to leave him, focusing on calming his heartbeat that threatened to beat out of control.

“Hunter?” a voice asked.

Hunter whirled around, his hand flying to his side where he kept his knife, finding that Braya was standing behind him. She shut the door, blocking the sounds of the patrons inside the bakery. “Oh,” Hunter said, turning back around and moving his hand away from his knife. “It’s just you.”

Braya picked her skirts up, plopping down next to Hunter on the first step. “Are you okay?”

Hunter nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for asking, though.”

Braya frowned. “Are you really okay? If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

Hunter offered her a tight smile. “I know.” But he didn’t say anything else. He only met Braya a few days ago; he didn’t want to go to her about everything that was bothering him. And he knew that it was a lot for anyone, let alone a seventeen-year-old girl.

Silence lapsed over them, Hunter not wanting to talk and Braya seemingly not knowing what to say. That appearance was obvious to Hunter when Braya opened and closed her mouth several times, trying and failing to know what to say.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said after watching Braya do so for several minutes. “The silence is enough for me.”

“Is it, though?” Braya asked. “All it’s doing is letting you stay inside your head, thinking whatever you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” Hunter lied.

Braya raised her eyebrow, showing him that she didn’t believe him. “You’re always thinking about something, Hunter. So what are you thinking now?”

Hunter looked up at the stars, but they offered no help in giving him the words to politely ask Braya to let him be. They just twinkled, looking just as cold and distant as always. “Braya, I don’t know how to explain what I’m thinking right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be a coherent explanation; something’s better than nothing. And perhaps the words will come to you if you just talk.”

It seemed that nothing he said would deter the girl from talking about his feelings. He sighed, then opened his mouth to talk. “My parents died when I was younger. Thomas and I have been friends for a few years now and most of our conversations revolved around our background, which was the fact that we were orphans. Now, Thomas is in there, getting the chance to meet his mother, and I’m out here, still an orphan. And I know I should be happy for him, but…” His voice trailed off, not entirely sure how to explain his contradictory emotions about what was happening inside the bakery.

“But you’re not,” Braya finished for him.

Hunter shook his head. “But I’m not,” he echoed. “And I feel like a terrible person for that. My friend is getting something that he has longed for for years, yet here I am, feeling jealous of him and mad at him for doing something that I can’t do.”

“Hunter, don’t make yourself feel happy. Don’t try to push away the feelings you have just because you feel like you should be feeling something different. You’re not a terrible person, Hunter, for feeling jealous or angry. It’s okay to feel that way, just don’t act upon them.”

Hunter clenched his hands, feeling his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. Would she still say that he wasn’t a horrible person if she found out the real reason why he had decided to tell Thomas about his father, if she knew that he had initially planned on never saying a word to him about his mother? Would she still insist that he was good when she discovered his plan of using Thomas to get his revenge? Would she still be sitting here if she knew that his anger towards the Empire was already consuming him, and had been consuming him ever since his parents’ deaths? Would she still want to be his friend if she knew how desperate he was to avenge his parents, to avenge his dreams of becoming a Tascelan Archer, and to avenge Michael?

“Hunter?” Braya asked, grabbing his shoulder. The movement forced him to look up at her, but he quickly looked away as her worried eyes fell upon his. He was hiding things from her, things that, if she knew, she would run away from him. “What are you thinking now?”

He shook his head, knowing that he could never tell her everything. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he whispered, his words soft.

“Hunter, please, te--”

He pulled away from her, shifting his position so he was out of her grasp. Braya pulled the hand that had been on his shoulder into her lap, looking sad by his pushing her away. For a brief second, he regretted his action, about to apologize, but then he remembered that doing so would only lead to her pushing him to tell her about his plan to use Thomas, and he knew that he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that, not when doing so would lead to Braya leaving him.

“I told you what I was thinking,” Hunter said, still not looking at her. “What are you thinking?”

Braya didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, making Hunter think that she was still searching for a way to turn the conversation back on him. Apparently realizing that it was pointless, she answered his question. “My parents died when I was younger as well, during the Malin War. So I can understand the feelings inside of you right now.” Hunter scoffed internally, though he didn’t say a single word. She had no idea what he was thinking or feeling right now, and Hunter was making certain that she wouldn’t. “But I don’t want to talk about that right now. What I want to know is who Thomas’ father is.”

Hunter inhaled sharply, not expecting the conversation to take that turn. “Does it matter? He’s Thomas’ father, not yours.”

“Maybe it matters because I care about Thomas. Why doesn’t he live with Thomas’ mother?”

Hunter shrugged. “They had a falling out.”

“But why would Thomas be in a Malin orphanage instead of a Tascelan orphanage closer to his parents? And why doesn’t Thomas live with his father if his father is at the castle? He must be rich if he lives in the castle; surely Thomas could live a better life with him than at an orphanage.” Braya paused before adding, “It sounds like whoever took Thomas to Ridgecrest was trying to hide him.”

Hunter tensed. “What makes you say that?”

“Thomas said that your mentor mentioned that his father is a bad man. You also said that his parents had a falling out and they now live in different parts of the kingdom. What if the person who took him to Ridgecrest was scared for Thomas’ safety and decided to get him as far away from his parents as they could, maybe to protect him from his father? It would explain why Thomas lived in Malin and not in Tascela and why his mother didn’t raise him herself. After all, his father knew where she lived and maybe she didn’t want to move away from Northfield.” Braya paused before saying her next words. “If that is all true, then that makes me wonder: who exactly is Thomas’ father and what makes him so bad?”

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Hunter froze, shocked that Braya had deduced so much from the little knowledge she knew about Thomas’ parents. He hesitated, not sure if he should tell Braya the answer to her question. If he gave her the truth, she might be against the idea of taking Thomas to Castle Tascela. But he knew if he lied or didn’t answer her, she would only be angry at him later on when she discovered the answer to her question on her own.

His silence seemed to make Braya want to fill it. “I’ve been on the road for quite some time now and I’ve heard some rumors, rumors that fit in with Thomas’ story quite well.”

“You can’t believe everything you hear,” Hunter cautioned, wondering if her rumors were the same ones the soldier had told Thomas about, making him uncomfortable. If they were, Braya had a very good idea about the answer to her questions about Thomas’ father.

Braya shrugged. “That’s true, but I’ve learned that they carry some truth to them, especially the outlandish ones.”

Hunter laughed, trying to expel the worry he felt about the rumors Braya was talking about. “Outlandish? Does that describe the rumors you’re talking about?”

Again, Braya shrugged. “It could. The rumors talked about how Matheson Wells, the Aspayan Hero, is looking for a boy about Thomas’ age and a boy with characteristics very similar to Thomas. The more wild rumors state that the boy he’s looking for is his son. So now I can’t help but think that Matheson is Thomas’ father.”

Hunter shifted uneasily, again unsure of whether or not he should tell her the truth. “Really?” he asked, giving him more time to figure out how to respond to her.

Braya nodded. “Many people state that Matheson is a terrible person, which makes sense why someone would want to hide Thomas from him and why he isn’t with Thomas’ mother anymore.” She paused before asking, “Is Matheson Wells Thomas’ father?”

Faced with a point-blank question and feeling tired of the lies sitting within him and the things he was hiding, Hunter found it impossible to lie to her or continue deflecting away from talking about Thomas’ father. “Yes. He is.”

Braya’s eyes widened. Even though she had figured it out by herself and had plenty of evidence for it, she still appeared to be surprised by the truth. “Oh my God,” she breathed out. She looked away from Hunter, gazing up at the stars above them. “Oh my God.”

“You can’t tell a single soul about it,” Hunter said. “Do you understand me?”

“Why?” Braya asked, looking back at Hunter. “If you’re just taking him to Matheson, then why does it matter if I keep it a secret?”

“The issue is that people can use that fact to their advantage.” He didn’t mention his plan, knowing that he fell into that category of people. “Wells has made many enemies, enemies that would use Thomas as a way to get revenge.” Again, Hunter didn’t mention his own opinions about Wells, knowing that he was exactly the type of person he was talking about. “And, as you said, Wells has money. What’s to say that they wouldn’t kidnap Thomas for ransom?”

Braya’s face paled. “I didn’t think about that. Yes, I promise to keep Thomas’ secret.”

“Just until we get to Castle Tascela. Then, he would be safe at his father’s sides, with the castle walls and guards for protection.”

Braya pursed her lips, suddenly appearing worried. “Hunter, are you sure about taking him to Castle Tascela?”

This time, it was Hunter who shrugged. “It’s what he wants.”

“Yes, but is it the wisest decision? Thomas is blinded right now from his desire to meet his parents and he isn’t thinking clearly. His mother must’ve wanted to hide him from Matheson for a reason and I know what people have said about Matheson. Do you really think he should meet his father?”

Hunter paused before asking, “Braya, what would you give to see your parents again?”

Braya stayed quiet long enough for Hunter to face her, noticing the tears in her eyes. “Anything,” she said softly.

“Thomas is getting that chance. Why should we stop him from being able to achieve his dreams?”

“Hunter, it’s different. Many people dislike Matheson and consider him to be a bad person. What if he’s--I don’t know--abusive or something?”

Hunter felt a flash of fear run through him. “You don’t know that. You’re just grasping at straws.”

Braya shrugged. “It would fit with the things I’ve heard about him.” And, scarily, it made sense in Hunter’s mind, too, as he remembered Michael’s words about Wells a week and a half ago.

“A story about a bitter, failed apprentice who promised to seek revenge against me and the kingdom who he felt had turned their backs on him. And about a desire to take his son back, something that I will prevent with my dying breath.”

For all Hunter knew, Wells could still be filled with bitterness and still trying to find a way to seek his revenge against Michael and all of Tascela. For all he knew, it could very well be a revenge path intertwining with his desire to be with Thomas again, a revenge plan hinging upon the idea of using Thomas to fulfill it. And, for all he knew, Wells’ bitterness and anger could be directed upon Thomas when they arrived at Castle Tascela.

“Besides,” Braya continued, “there has to be a reason as to why Matheson is looking for Thomas now and not in the years that he’s been away.”

“Aspaya just took over Tascela,” Hunter pointed out. “Maybe he feels like now’s his best chance to find his son.”

Braya pursed her lips, seemingly not believing him. “Perhaps. Or maybe there’s a darker reason.”

“Like what?”

Braya looked away. “I don’t know,” she answered softly. She looked up at the stars, looking at the twinkling lights high above them.

Hunter looked up at the stars as well. “I understand what you’re saying and I considered it before coming here.” He was being honest; he had considered it and then pushed away the concerns, focusing instead on his desire to avenge his parents. “My mentor was very much against me telling Thomas about his father. But I still believe that Thomas should be given a chance to meet him. He should be the one to decide whether or not he wants to see Wells.”

“But he’s not thinking clearly!” Braya exclaimed, looking back at Hunter. “He’s blinded by his desire to meet his father.”

“So what?” Hunter asked. “If it turns out that he made a bad decision, he only has himself to blame.”

Braya glared at him. “That’s a bit unfair, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you be guilty, too? Wouldn’t you be responsible if Matheson hurts him, since you were the one that took him to meet his father?”

Hunter didn’t say anything, knowing that, if his plan worked, he would be a lot more responsible for things besides Wells hurting Thomas; he would be the one hurting Thomas. Instead, he decided to change the subject. “Why are you going to Castle Tascela?”

Braya blinked, appearing to be surprised by the change in topic. “Well,” she started, looking away, “I guess it would only be fair to tell you after you told me the truth about Thomas’ father.”

Hunter tensed, knowing that he hadn’t been completely honest; he had hid the true reason behind wanting to take Thomas to Wells. Appearing to not notice, Braya continued speaking.

“Like I said earlier, my parents died when I was younger. After their deaths, a family friend named Kaela took me in. She has two grandsons who moved in with her after their parents died in the Malin War. The older one, Jackson, is just a couple of months younger than me, and we were very close growing up. We did everything together, so much so that people thought we were twins, despite the fact that we aren’t all that similar looking.” Suddenly, her eyes misted over and she blinked back tears. “And then he turned sixteen. He was forced into the Aspayan Army, forced to help them take over Tascela. He used to write to us weekly--three different letters every time: one for Abuelita, one for me, and one for our younger brother, Jayden. Then, a couple of weeks after Aspaya won and Tascela became the Empire’s second tributary, they stopped coming. We have no idea if he’s alive or if he’s gone. All we know is that he was stationed at Castle Tascela and even that information could be wrong. I haven’t seen him in months and I don’t know what I would do if I found out that Jack’s dead.”

“So you’re going to Castle Tascela to find him yourself,” Hunter said.

Braya nodded. “Abuelita tried to ask the soldiers near our house about how we can find information about Jack, but they only laughed at her. She wanted to travel to Tascela herself, but it’s too far for her. Besides, she has to take care of Jay. He’s only eleven and he gets sick easily. Both of them can’t handle the trip to Castle Tascela. So I went.”

“What are you going to do once you find him?” Hunter asked.

Braya shifted, appearing uneasy. “I-I’m not sure.”

Hunter tilted his head to the side, feeling like she wasn’t being completely honest. Still, he didn’t say anything. They sat in silence at the conclusion of Braya’s words, both of them not looking at each other. The things that they had failed to say and the lies they had refused to admit or even comment on created a tension in the air. The unsaid words and dishonesty could one day destroy the tentative friendship they had built in the five days that they had traveled together, but Hunter found himself unable to change that, finding it impossible to broach the subject.

After a few minutes of quiet, the door behind them opened, admitting light and heat on both Braya and Hunter. Hunter glanced behind him to find Thomas shutting the door behind him, his face flushed. He was upset about something, but he didn’t say a word as he sat down on the porch behind his two friends.

Hunter watched as Thomas’ head looked up, taking in the stars above them. “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

And looking up at them, Hunter suddenly realized that they were. There were millions of them, each tiny pinpricks of lights twinkling in the inky blackness of the sky. True, they still felt distant and uncaring about him and his plights, but perhaps that was part of their beauty. They didn’t care about lies or unspoken words. They were far away from the emotions Hunter was experiencing, much in the same way he himself longed to be.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “They really are.”

Part Two

Sunflower

End