"Wait a second! He took the savage boy to his house?"

William's question breaks the flow of the story, reflecting his incredulity at Arland's decision. His tone is one of disbelief, perhaps finding it difficult to reconcile the risks involved with such a choice.

Another man from the group, perhaps more empathetic to the situation, slams his jack down on the table in response to William. "You don't have any children. You don't understand why he made that decision."

William's frustration is evident as he stands up, clearly agitated by Roy's comment. "I understand perfectly, better than you ever would, Roy. A kid with red fiery eyes? That sounds cursed to me. No wonder people are saying it was a demon that slaughtered everyone in that village."

Roy, in an attempt to defuse the tension, signals to Phillip to refill William's jack. "Just sit down and let the man finish the tale."

Acknowledging Roy's nod, I take it as my cue to continue.

⊱─━━━━⊱༻●༺⊰━━━━─⊰

Ingrid's reaction upon seeing us was immediate. The sight of her husband carrying an injured child spurred her into swift action. She rushed out to assist Arland, helping untie the boy from Arland's back and carried him into the house.

As I followed them inside, I couldn't shake off my skepticism about the entire situation. A nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach suggested we might have made a significant error in bringing the savage child into their home. But watching Ingrid and Arland, so focused on caring for him, I couldn't help but wonder if there was something I was missing.

"Randall, get us some water please."

Outside the room, I paused from fetching the water, standing near the door overhearing the conversation between Ingrid and Arland.

Ingrid adjusted the blankets and placed a makeshift pillow of chicken feathers under the child's head. "Arland, who is this boy?"

"We mistakenly shot him in the leg. We were aiming at a hog, but he crossed our path just as I released the arrow."

I hurried to fetch the water, aware that Arland would be waiting for it to help tend to the boy's wound. Upon my return, I was met with a scene that I failed to understand immediately. Both Ingrid and Arland were staring intently at something, their faces were filled with confusion.

Stepping into the room, I set the bucket of water down on the floor and looked at them, puzzled. "Is everything okay?"

"Randall, remember that injury I dressed in the cave?"

"Yes, it was pretty deep. It should've destroyed his heel."

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Ingrid, with a cautious hand, gently unwrapped the bloody bandages from around the boy's ankle. To our surprise, the ankle appeared completely healed, with no sign of the deep wound we had seen earlier.

My eyes widened in astonishment. I knew what I had seen in the cave; I had followed the blood trail from that very injury. "This is impossible. How could he have healed that wound so fast?"

The revelation stunned everyone in the room. It was a moment that defied explanation. The boy lay there soundly asleep, his breathing even and undisturbed. The rapid healing of his wound was something beyond the realm of normal human experience, and it raised a multitude of questions about who or what this child was.

"Randall, get me a few feet of chain and a couple of locks from the cellar. We might need to take some precautions with this child."

Ingrid reacted immediately to Arland's words, "You're going to treat him like a prisoner? Then why did we bring him here at all?"

Arland, surprised by Ingrid's emotional response, paused for a moment, the weight of her words clearly affecting him. Without a word, he stepped back and left the room, leaving Ingrid alone with her tears and the sleeping child.

I followed Arland outside, sensing the heavy atmosphere that now enveloped the house. Even though I fetched the chain he had requested from the cellar, I understood that Ingrid's maternal instincts and compassion would not permit us to use it on the child, no matter how mysterious or potentially dangerous he might be.

Standing outside with Arland, I could sense his internal struggle. The night's events had spiraled into a realm far beyond our initial understanding, leaving us both grappling with uncertainty.

"I should've listened to you. I had my doubts about him. I fear, I have brought a cursed creature upon us."

I couldn't let Arland shoulder the responsibility alone. After all, I had been there every step of the way, even helping him secure the boy for the journey back. "Arland, this isn't just on you. I was there too, and I helped you bring him back. We made this decision together."

The idea of using the barn's loft as a temporary solution struck me as a reasonable compromise. "Arland, what about the loft in the barn? We could use it for him. If he decides to escape, then there's not much we can do to stop him, but it could be a safe place for him for now."

"Thank you, Randall. I think your proposal is a sensible one. I'll discuss it with Ingrid and hope she agrees to the accommodation."

I stayed outside, giving Arland the space to discuss the idea with his wife. Curiosity led me to glance through the window, where I witnessed a poignant scene unfold between Arland and Ingrid. Ingrid's face was streaked with tears, and in a moment of intense emotion, she slapped Arland with considerable force. Then, almost immediately, she pulled him into an embrace, possibly signaling her reluctant acceptance of the necessity to restrain the child for everyone's safety.

Arland emerged from the house, carrying the child in his arms with a somber expression. Together, we walked towards the barn, as Arland handed the child to me, and I carefully carried him up to the loft.

In the loft, we arranged several hay bales to create a place for the boy to sleep, ensuring it was as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. The act of securing the boy was done with as much gentleness as the situation allowed, mindful of his injuries and the fear he must have been feeling.

"I will stay with him tonight, sir."

Arland nodded, handing me a pair of hatchets, a bow, and a quiver full of arrows. "If you feel like your life is in danger, don't hesitate to use this."

I took the weapons from his hands, giving me a feeling of regret. "let's hope we don't need to use them."

With Arland departing the barn, I found myself alone with the boy. Settling against a few hay bales, I held the bow tightly in my hands, ready for any unforeseen circumstances. The barn was enveloped in a quiet that was occasionally broken by the soft whimpers of the child, sounds that hinted at troubled dreams.