Part Two

Sunflower

That excitement stayed inside of Thomas, fueling him the whole five days it took to get to Northfield. It only grew when he, Hunter, and Braya stood in front of a family business, the sign above reading Snow Goose Bakery and depicting the same bird from his medallion. With its growth came sudden nervousness, causing Thomas to stop right in front of the bakery, making it impossible to walk through the door. Doubts came crashing down on him, flooding through all of his thoughts.

What if she didn’t like him? What if, upon meeting him, she found that she didn’t love him as much as she had twelve years ago? What if she wasn’t everything that Thomas imagined her to be? What if the five day journey, a trip that he had to break the law to partake in, a trip that took him away from everything and everyone he knew, a trip that had started with Michael’s death and led to soldiers chasing them out of Ridgecrest, was all for nothing? He clutched at the snow goose medallion under his shirt, desperate to know if her words from his memories were true, but too scared to find out that the opposite was, in fact, reality.

“You ready?” Hunter asked, stepping up to stand next to Thomas.

“Yeah,” Thomas replied. “I’m fine.” With that, Thomas pushed away his fears and doubts, walking through the door of the bakery. Inside, the smell of baking bread and pastries flooded Thomas’ nose. With it being after dinnertime, the room was filled with customers, all enjoying desserts at the bakery. Thomas made his way through the crowded bakery, heading for the counter in the back. He waited impatiently in line, the lady in front of him taking a long time to order a cake.

Thomas could feel Hunter shifting next to him. He had his hood on, hiding his face from sight. Braya had hers on as well, her eyes flicking around them, watching the other people in the bakery. Finally, the lady got her cake order put in, stepping to the side to wait for her cake to be made. Thomas stepped forward, waiting a few seconds for the lady behind the counter to stop bustling around.

“How can I help you?” the lady finally asked, flicking her curly black hair away from her face. Her green eyes looked up at Thomas. Suddenly, she stepped backward, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. Then, she blinked, returning back to normal. “Forgive me, but you look very much like someone I used to know.”

Thomas nodded in understanding. Remembering Michael’s dying words, he looked identical to his father. It made sense for this woman to be surprised by that if she was his mother. “Are you Kathleen Fields, ma’am?”

She nodded. “Yes. Do you need something from me or are you just here to order something?”

Thomas froze, drinking in her looks. This lady, with her black hair and green eyes, was his mother. Her hair fell halfway down her back, the curls not as tight as his but still clearly present. Her eyes were the exact same shade of green from his memories, though in-person, they felt warmer and more welcoming. The only similarity they seemed to share was their pale complexion. Realizing that he was staring, Thomas started talking, fumbling over his words. “Can I--we,” Thomas corrected, gesturing to himself, Hunter, and Braya. “Can we speak to you in private?”

Kathleen looked over at Hunter and Braya, both of them still with their hoods on. Hunter nodded while Braya gave a little wave. Then, she looked behind them, to the room filled with customers. “I’m afraid I’m a little busy right now. Can y--”

“My name is Thomas,” he blurted out, interrupting her. “Thomas…” he broke off, not sure which surname to use. Eventually, he made his decision. “Hayes.”

The color from Kathleen’s face drained, leaving her pale. She steadied herself on the counter in front of her, staring at Thomas like she had just seen a ghost. “Thomas?” she asked, her voice soft and barely able to be heard over the din of the bakery. He nodded, blinking away the tears that came to his eyes. Kathleen walked around the counter, stepping closer to him. “Oh, sweetie,” she whispered, tears coming into her own eyes.

She brought a hand out almost hesitantly, like she wasn’t certain of what she was doing. It was shaking, another sign that the emotions flooding through Thomas were also currently flooding through her. Kathleen’s hand finally came to rest on Thomas’ cheek and the tears that she held in thus far came running down her face. Thomas felt his own tears falling as he looked into his mother’s eyes. They were filled with love and happiness, chasing away any and all doubts Thomas had. Thomas and Kathleen stood that way for less than a moment, her hand resting on his cheek, until they somehow fell together, hugging tightly to each other. She smelled of fresh baked bread, a smell that filled Thomas’ nose, making it impossible for him to smell anything else. He closed his eyes, tears falling off of his face as he hugged his mother for the first time in twelve years.

Sometime later--Thomas didn’t know if it was hours or simply just minutes--they broke apart. Abruptly, Thomas realized that Hunter and Braya had disappeared. “Do you know where my friends went?”

Kathleen frowned, glancing around them. “I don’t know. They’re probably somewhere in here, though. You can catch up with them later. For now, how about we talk? I’m certain you have lots of questions for me.”

Thomas nodded, still looking around for Hunter and Braya. While he looked, he was dimly aware of Kathleen calling for another worker to cover the counter.

“Thomas,” his mother said, pulling his attention away from the bakery and onto her. “Come.” She took her hand and Thomas let her pull him upstairs, heading into what seemed to be the master bedroom. It was a simple room, furnished with a double bed pushed up against a nightstand--which had a vase with a singular flower in it, its purple petals falling like a skirt around the flower head--a dresser stuffed in the corner of the room, and a chair situated in front of the window. Kathleen gestured for Thomas to take the chair while she sat down on the bed. Upon sitting down, he glanced outside, spotting a little boy climbing a tree while his father looked on in the dim light of the rising moon.

“Happy belated birthday,” Kathleen said, drawing his attention away from the boy and onto her. “You’re sixteen now, right?”

Thomas nodded. “Thanks. And, yeah, I’m sixteen.” Thomas felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment as he fumbled for another conversation starter. Here he was, meeting his mother for the first time, and he had no idea what to say. “I didn’t know you would keep track of the birthdays.”

Kathleen blinked away the tears in her eyes, seemingly hurt by his words. “Of course I would, sweetie. I’m your mother; why wouldn’t I?”

Thomas looked away, not sure how to answer that question. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “Maybe for the same reason why you would give me up?” As soon as he said those words, he wanted to take them back, swallow them and lock them away forever. Kathleen inhaled sharply, blinking several times and leaning away from him. “I’m sorry,” Thomas said. “I-I shouldn’t have said that.”

Kathleen shook her head. “You’re well within your rights, Thomas. Forgive me for creating this situation.” She sighed, looking away from Thomas. “I did what I did because I love you. I wanted to protect you, protect you from him. So I did the only thing I thought I could: I let you go.” Tears were falling down her face again, but she didn’t seem to notice them, continuing to speak while they fell. “I think about my decision constantly, but even now, I know I would do it all over again if I have to. I would do it in a heartbeat.” She looked back at Thomas, staring intently into his eyes. “I love you, Thomas. I really, truly do. Ever since that day, I’ve thought about you every second of every day, wondered about your well-being whenever I did. I--”

“Why?” Thomas interrupted. “If you love me, then why did I grow up in Malin and not here? You said you did it to protect me, but from what? Who’s ‘him’?”

Kathleen looked away, a far-away look in her eyes as she stared out the window. She appeared to be lost in the past, memories washing over her. When she looked back at Thomas, her voice was soft.

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“I won’t lie to you, Thomas,” she said. “Your father is not a good man. He has anger issues and, when they flare up, he can get aggressive, even violent.” She blinked as sadness began to overtake her features, tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes. “Ever since I first met him, I noticed how his emotions could drive him at times, making it almost impossible to reason with him when he got emotional. But I shoved all those experiences away and I ignored them. And, one day, I realized that I couldn’t do that any more. I realized just how terrible he was. He left soon after that, bitter and filled with rage, promising that he would be back, back for you. Those were the last words he ever said to me and they scared me to death, Thomas. The thought of him turning his anger on you, the thought of him taking you away, the thought of you experiencing first-hand his violent nature…” Kathleen broke off, a haunted look in her eyes. “I can’t even bear the thought of that ever happening.”

“So you let me go,” Thomas concluded, his voice soft. Finally, he understood now why he had to be raised in a different kingdom by someone other than his parents. With that understanding came an inability to be angry at his mother for doing what she felt had been necessary at the time.

His mother nodded sadly. “So I let you go. I asked a friend of mine to take you to Ridgecrest in Malin, hoping that there would come a time where I could meet you again.”

“Michael, right?” Thomas asked, remembering the man’s words five days ago. “That was the person you asked to take me to Ridgecrest.”

Kathleen blinked, seemingly surprised that Thomas had known that. “Yes, actually. Do you know him?”

Thomas nodded. “He was the one to tell me how to find you. How did you know him?”

Kathleen blinked. “He never told you?” When Thomas shook his head, she said, “He was your father’s mentor. He was learning to become a Tascelan Archer, just like Michael.”

Thomas stared at his mother wide-eyed, shocked by what he was hearing. His father was hoping to become an archer, studying under the same person Hunter was. It was something that he hadn’t been expecting. “What happened to him being Michael’s apprentice? Why did he leave?”

Kathleen looked away, blinking back tears. “He failed his final exam, taking with it his chances of ever becoming an archer.” She shook her head. “But I don’t wish to dwell on the past anymore.” Thomas deflated, feeling like their conversation had finally given what he had always wanted: a glimpse into the family he never knew he had. “Did Michael bring you here?” she asked, sounding excited at the prospect. “Where is he? I would like to see him.”

“He’s dead,” Thomas replied blankly, looking away from Kathleen to stare at the floor beneath him.

His mother gasped, sounding shocked. Based on her and Michael’s words, they had been close friends. If that was true, it would make for her to be hurt by the idea that he had passed. “Dead? How?”

“The soldiers killed him. They were trying to arrest my friend and I.”

“Arrest you?” Kathleen exclaimed. “Why?”

Thomas ran a hand through his hair, not quite entirely sure how to answer that question. “They were arresting me because of the Enlistment Act. I don’t know why they were trying to arrest Hunter. Probably because he was helping me run away from them.” He paused before continuing his story. “Hunter fought them, but ended up almost dying. Michael showed up at the last minute, saving him. In the process, Michael was severely injured.”

“I-I--” Kathleen stuttered, speechless by Thomas’ story. “I don’t know what to say. Is your friend, Hunter, okay?”

Thomas nodded reassuringly. “We’re all fine.”

Kathleen exhaled, seemingly relieved. “And thank God for that.” She went quiet, staring off into the distance, appearing to be lost in thought.

After a couple of seconds, Thomas broke the silence. “Michael also mentioned that you’re married and have another son.”

Kathleen blinked, coming back to reality. “He was correct. My husband, Henry, helps run the bakery with me. About seven years ago, we had a son named Petrus. If you want, I can take you to meet them.”

Thomas nodded emphatically. “I would love to meet them.” He stood up, following her back downstairs and to the backyard, the area that Thomas had seen from the window. The man he had spotted earlier was standing in front of the tree the boy had been climbing, looking up.

“Henry!” Kathleen called, walking to the tree. Thomas stayed near the door leading back inside, not wanting to intrude on the scene in front of him. The man turned around, his hazel eyes filled with happiness as he looked at his wife.

“Hey, Kathy!” he called back to her. “I thi--” Henry broke off as he noticed Thomas standing on the porch. Immediately, his face clouded over, making it hard to see what he was thinking. “Who are you?” he asked him.

“Thomas Hayes, sir,” he replied, watching the shock cross over Henry’s face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fields.”

The man shook his head. “The pleasure’s all mine, Thomas. My wife has told me all about you.” Thomas blinked, not certain what exactly Kathleen could tell him if she hadn’t seen him since he was three. “And, please, you don’t need to use all these formalities with me. Henry’s just fine.” He hooked an arm around Kathleen, pulling her into a hug. “How’s the bakery?”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Kathleen replied, hugging Henry back. “How was your day?”

“Good, actually. Petrus and I went fishing.”

“I heard about that. Did you catch anything?”

Henry sighed. “Unfortunately not. Petrus kept scaring away the fish because he got bored.”

Kathleen tsked. “That boy. He has little patience for everything.” Then, a small crease appeared on her forehead. “Where is he now?”

Henry huffed then used the arm not around his wife to gesture to the tree behind him. “Your son is currently in that tree and won’t come down.”

Kathleen chuckled, craning her neck upwards to look at Henry. “My son? Don’t you mean our son?”

“No. When he’s difficult, he’s your son, not mine.”

The ease in which they spoke to each other only served to make Thomas feel like an outsider and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not certain of what he should say or how he should act. “Is he stuck?” he asked, wanting to help in retrieving Petrus from the tree and wanting to be included in the conversation.

Henry looked at Thomas, blinking as if he had forgotten Thomas had been standing there. “Pardon?”

Seeing the man’s confusion and beginning to think that he shouldn’t have spoken, Thomas rephrased his question. “Is Petrus stuck in the tree?”

Henry shook his head. “Petrus is fearless,” he said, sounding dismissive. “He loves being up high.”

Kathleen huffed. “Don’t I know it. He scares me to death with how high he likes to climb.”

Henry laughed. “He’s insane. I think he would rather be a bird than a boy.”

“Of course I would!” a voice called up from the tree. Thomas looked up to find the boy he had spotted earlier staring down at him. His eyes were the same color as his father’s, filled with happiness and joy. His hair was filled with twigs and leaves, but that didn’t hide the fact that it was the same shade as Kathleen’s hair. His eyes alighted on Thomas’ and he frowned in confusion. “Who are you?” he asked, not unkindly.

“Come down,” Kathleen said. “And you can properly meet each other.”

Not needing any further requests, the young boy scampered down the tree. He was obviously at ease with being up high, not showing any of the fear that Derrick had a week and a half ago. Making it to the last branch, Petrus leaped off, jumping the last couple of feet to land lightly on the ground.

“Hi!” he said, a little breathlessly. “Who are you?”

Thomas crouched, letting him be on the same level as the little boy. “Thomas. Who are you?”

“Petrus,” he said, as if Thomas should already know that. “Why are you out here?”

“Petrus, don’t be rude.” Kathleen brushed her son’s hair, trying and failing to remove the twigs and leaves from his hair. Watching the love in her gesture, Thomas felt a lump in his throat grow. He never experienced that with Kathleen and he never would experience that with her. She had removed any chances of that happening when she had decided to leave him at the age of three. True, he now understood why she had done what she had, but that still didn’t negate the many things he had missed experiencing with her.

Thomas stumbled back, his stumbling steps unnoticed by both Kathleen and Henry. Kathleen continued talking to Petrus, but Thomas didn’t hear her words. “I’m going to go find Braya and Hunter,” he said, walking back into the bakery. Neither his mother nor his step-father called after him.

In the bakery, the air was stifling. The place was still crowded and there was little room to walk past the other people, making him feel claustrophobic. Thomas pushed past them, clearing a path to walk through the front door. And there, on the front steps of the bakery, were Hunter and Braya, sitting quietly and staring up at the stars.