That evening after the deliveries, Drake relaxed with Gigi in her room. He was furiously scribbling on a piece of paper. Drake was trying to capture the likeness of the people they had met on their delivery journey. She was reading her book on the bed, her head hanging off it, the book upside down and parallel to her eye line. Her long black hair dangled over the edge, caressing the floor with long silky fingers.

That was until a look of realization and panic swept across her face. Drake was confused, had he done something, had the book done something? Before he could ask, she whipped her head up and rolled off the bed. She landed expertly on her feet.

“Everything…okay?” Drake prodded.

“Yep, yep, of course, it is, why wouldn’t it be?” She said, dashing to her closet and throwing it open. Drake tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Well, you’re acting like the village is about to get attacked,” he put the charcoal down, “is the only reason I ask.” Gigi did not respond, she was too busy throwing things out of her closet. “Are you looking for something? I can help if you tell me what it is.”

“I’m trying to find my duffle,” she grunted.

“Is it gray with umm…brown stains?” Drake asked hesitantly. Gigi stopped pawing through her things and looked back at him.

“If this is another magic trick, I don’t have time,” she huffed. Drake pointed to the back of the bedroom door, where the bag slowly swung back and forth. Her ears twitched. “Sorry, thanks,” she said sheepishly. Then she stalked over and swung the duffle over her shoulder.

“Are…you going to tell me what's going on?” Drake asked, standing from the desk.

“Like I said, it’s nothing…if my mom comes looking for me…I don’t know, make something up,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Wait you’re leaving?” Drake asked with confusion.

“Yeah, Drake, I have a life outside of this house you know.” She made her way to the window and pushed it open.

“Wait!” he called out. She turned and shot him a look of annoyance.

“Can you at least tell me where you’re going?” he asked. Gigi frowned and chewed on her lip.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked, stepping toward him.

“I mean of course, as long as it doesn’t involve you getting hurt,” he said eyeing the stains on the bag. Gigi looked at the stains too and then back to Drake.

“Never mind, I shouldn’t tell you, men never get it,” she sighed.

“Can I help?” he asked with concern bleeding in. “Are you in trouble or something?”

Gigi’s eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted in suspicion.

“Yes, you can, prove I can trust you. Lie to my mother for me and we will take it from there, got it? Good.” With that, she turned back to her window and then leaped out. Drake moved to the curtains and watched her run out of eyesight.

Drake lingered on where she had been for a moment before turning away. The soldier supposed it made sense she didn’t completely trust him. He was keeping his own rather large secret from her after all. Drake tried to go back to drawing but found his mind kept going to Gigi.

He drew a few sketches of her but felt unsatisfied with the results. He tried to read the book she left. However, Drake needed help with some of the words. He grunted in frustration and put the book aside. He couldn’t focus, he wondered if he should just go to bed.

His thoughts kept drifting back to the duffle bag. He may not have been well-learned, but he knew blood stains when he saw them. Whatever she was doing, it was dangerous. Drake wished he could be there to help, whatever the problem might be.

She had gotten so suspicious when he had offered his help. Drake knew he had somehow answered that one wrong for sure. He wasn’t entirely sure what he had done though. After mulling it over he decided that he knew little and found only that he was tired.

Drake stood from the desk and went to leave. He swung the door open and began to make his way to the attic. Gigi had fixed up what seemed like a nice bed to Drake. It was far warmer than the campaign tents ever had been. In general, he liked the attic. For one thing, there was only one way in or out. When he slept, he could sleep toward the attic door and feel a little bit safer.

At Gigi’s suggestion, Drake had begun pinning his drawings that he was particularly proud of onto the wall. There was a small but growing collection above his bed now. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of the drawings made him happy, or perhaps it was the memory of hanging them with Gigi.

“Early night?” Came a curious voice from the other end of the hall. Drake turned to meet the newcomer. He saw Griselda walking toward him, arms crossed. She wore a mask of what appeared to Drake like deep suspicion. He supposed that was fair.

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“Oh, yeah, umm Gigi told me to tell you…umm…” he floundered.

“She didn’t tell you what lies to give me?” Griselda asked dryly.

“No she said to make one up,” Drake said with casual annoyance. Then his eyes went wide and he grimaced as realized his mistake too late.

Griselda let loose a small cackle. “By the spirits, you are an awful liar.”

“Yeah…I’m told that’s good?” He asked hesitantly. Griselda shrugged.

“Better than her bringing home a skilled one.” She put her hand on her chin and studied Drake. He suddenly felt very small, even if he was technically taller. “Why don’t you come with me, care for some tea?”

Drake brightened. “Yeah that sounds great,” he agreed. Griselda turned on her heels back toward the dining room and Drake followed.

“Here, take a seat,” she said, as she pulled out a chair for him. He sat down at the long wooden table, that had seen many years of use throughout thousands of meals. It reminded Drake of the permanence that his existence had always lacked. A disposable life for a simple tool. He imagined Gigi had eaten here with her siblings her entire life. He doubted that she understood what a luxury that was. He wondered if it was better that way, never to know.

A moment later, he was broken from his stupor by a mug of steaming tea being placed before him. “Thank you,” he said as he put his hands on the warm beverage.

“Find the table interesting do you?” Griselda asked.

“It’s just…so big.”

“Well we have a lot of mouths here,” she furrowed her brow, “didn’t they have long tables in the army?” She probed.

“They did, but I wasn’t allowed to sit with the other men,” he said, blowing on his mug. Griselda’s eyebrow raised.

“Why was that?”

Drake went silent. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry, Gigi told me not to tell anybody.”

“Boy, you live in my attic, rent-free may I add, not Gigi’s,” she said with finality. Drake smiled weakly as if a weight had been lifted. In truth, he didn’t like keeping secrets. They dug at him, the questions that he could see in people’s eyes that he just let pass because the truth was often dangerous.

“Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Why weren’t you allowed at the table with the others?”

“Well, it didn’t start that way. I guess the other men asked for me to be moved. To not cause a fuss I agreed.”

“What are you not telling me?” She dug.

“I am a soldier, you knew that though,” he said, looking at his warped reflection in the tea. “I should just show you, I’m not that good with words,” he said, almost to himself.

He closed his eyes and began to whisper. The lights in the room flickered. Drake began to gather the shadows, calling them to his palm. There they began to coalesce and warp into a shape. They molded into a crude form of a person, then it began to refine as if it were a piece of marble being chiseled away.

When he was done, he had rendered a small version of Gigi. He has drawn so many pictures of her it was an easy subject to make now. Drake made the puppet move, giving a punch to the air then it took a fighting stance.

Griselda’s jaw dropped. A moment later, the little shadow Gigi waved at her before it disbursed into inky smoke.

“What kind of wizard are you?” She wondered allowed. Drake laughed.

“I’m not a wizard, I don’t think so, anyway,” he said scratching the back of his neck with a tattooed hand. “Well, to be honest, I’m not sure what I am. The kingdom put these on me as a kid.” He pointed to the tattoos. “Ever since that day, I can call on the shadows to…well you saw.”

“Do not show this to my children,” she said conclusively.

“Yeah, Gigi said that too.”

“Smart girl, when she wants to be.”

Drake looked down at the table. “What do you think she’s doing right now?” he asked. Griselda looked surprised.

“Oh, you really don’t know?” she inquired. Drake shook his head no. “I hate to admit it but that makes two of us,” Gigi’s mother sighed. “She wants to leave so badly, I would let her if she has any sense on where to go. I don’t want her going off, without knowing…who she even is.”

Drake nodded, he thought he understood. “It’s a big world, full of bad people, easy to get mixed up with the wrong ones and for them to hurt you.”

“Are you one of those people Drake?”

“The bad ones?” He asked. She nodded. He didn’t say anything for a while and looked into his tea. “I think I was,” he felt something clench in his chest, “know, I was.”

“What makes you so sure you’ve changed?” She asked dryly. Drake met her gaze, her eyes big brown gems alight with the fire he recognized from Gigi’s. He knew he needed to answer this question, and that it was important to find the right words.

“I…don’t think I’ve proved that I’m not yet,” he said with a heavy heart. “But I will,” he said with determination. Griselda’s eyebrow raised in surprise.

“That would have been a good time to lie,” she said.

“I know,” he said with a shrug, “but I think it’s the truth.”

Griselda eyed him suspiciously for a moment longer, before sighing and sinking back into her chair. “Drake, what are your intentions here?”

“Like, what do I want to do?” he asked. Griselda nodded. “I want to do everything, everything I never could do under the king,” he said, putting his hands on the table, “I want to draw, explore the woods with Gigi, learn to bake, and do this festival thing Gigi’s been talking about, to drink tea with you,” he raised his mug, “I just don’t want to hurt people anymore,” he said with a defeated tone.

Drake could see Griselda take this in and after a moment, she gave a sad smile. “Your words, remind me a lot of someone else.” She looked at the war hammer on the mantle. Griselda laughed to herself and stood from the table. “Well, Drake the human, I hope you are the man you think you can be.”

“Me too,” he said to himself. Then he looked toward Griselda. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, ask away.”

“Was this bakery his dream too?” Drake asked earnestly. Griselda looked at the mug in Drake’s hands.

“How about we have another cup of something stronger, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, deal?”

“Can I just have more tea?”

“Ugh, you really are like him,” she said, shaking her head in mock disgust, “fine, wine for me, more tea for you then. Think of good questions, I want to be merry, we can see if we can get an answer out of Gigi when she gets home.”