They were quiet in the carriage. Indenuel waited as Tolomon stared out the window.

“Are you going to lecture me about leaving other men’s concubines alone?” Indenuel asked.

“No. Martin did a better job. And, hopefully, far more effective.”

Indenuel sighed, then looked out the window, seeing people out on the streets again. In fact, it was a lot of people. “What are they doing?”

Tolomon kept his eyes on the group. “They recognize your carriage.”

Indenuel frowned, feeling a growing dread. “What?”

“These people are desperate for information and have had days to concoct wild stories.”

Indenuel shifted in his seat. “Do I have to talk to them?” There must have been something in his tone that made Tolomon glance over in concern.

“Indenuel!” someone called.

He winced, bowing his head, too scared to look out the window.

“Just remember the story. It was two marked individuals. You defeated them on the day of the devil,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel’s nod was quick and jerky. “Right.” He stared at the bench across from him, the material soft and a deep red. “Of course.” He took a few quick breaths in succession. “Are we… slowing down?”

“What news!” someone cried.

“Tell us what happened!”

Indenuel’s feet pushed against the floor of the carriage, waiting to run but having nowhere to go. Tolomon slid toward the center of the carriage where Indenuel was looking. In a quick movement, Tolomon dropped the privacy screens on the two windows. “Indenuel, look at me.” Indenuel honestly tried. He was starting to panic. The carriage slowed to a stop, and there was a group of people right outside, beginning to clamor. “You are alright. They are just curious people looking for news. They are not going to hurt you.”

Indenuel nodded. Yes. People looking for news. But he wouldn’t tell them the truth. He couldn’t. The High Elders were right. The devil appearing at the Cathedral of the Savior’s Coming and possessing the Warrior himself would be too much for the public to handle. Just like the death of God was too much. There were so many lies to keep for them. He was becoming the thing he despised most. A liar and a hypocrite.

The carriage rocked, and Indenuel was on the bench, his back smacking the carriage roof as he swore under his breath. People clamored about, asking their questions so loudly he couldn’t differentiate what they were. No one could see him, but that didn’t matter.

“It’s alright. The carriage will get moving soon. Sit down,” Tolomon said.

He didn’t realize he was on the bench, his back continually hitting the carriage. “I can’t do it. I can’t talk to them,” Indenuel said.

“You don’t have to. Understand? It’s alright.” Tolomon took a hold of his arm. “Sit down. I don’t want you to fall.”

Indenuel couldn’t stop breathing. Of course he couldn’t stop breathing, or else he’d die, but this was different. This was the erratic breathing he couldn’t control.

“I.. I should. I can’t. I need to.”

“The guards are controlling the crowd. We’ll be on our way soon. Back home.”

Indenuel nodded until the carriage rocked again. Rocked by people outside grabbing it, pressing against the privacy screens, people screaming for answers. Indenuel slipped, trying to back away from where the carriage rocked, but it was coming from both sides. He wasn’t safe. They were going to kill him. His chest tightened and he forgot how to breathe.

“Tell us the news!” someone screamed.

“You’re nothing but a son of a whore!”

He gasped, sucking in all the air as he tried desperately to escape, but there was nowhere to go. He was in his small hut in Mountain Pass and the mob surrounded it completely. He could tell because of the torches they used. He could practically smell the smoke from here.

“Was it the marked individuals!” someone screamed.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Murderess! You will bring the devil himself down on you and your child!”

Indenuel began to sob, covering his mouth so no one outside could hear him. Couldn’t let them know he was afraid. Andres would eat him alive if he knew.

“It’s alright,” Indenuel said, ramming himself against the door of his hut to keep them in. “I know your innocent, Mother. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Your mother is gone.” He promptly ignored Tolomon’s voice, straining against the door to keep the mob outside.

“Where’s Matteo! The twins! Are they alright! Are they safe?”

“They’re at school. You’re in Santollia City.” Tolomon’s voice was strangely calm considering there was a literal mob outside.

“Was it the marked individuals!”

“We’ll burn your house to the ground!”

Indenuel covered his ears, smelling the smoke from the torches. It was so hot in here. Had they already started burning the hut?

The rain started immediately, pelting the top of the roof.

“Shh, Indenuel. You’re safe. You’re fine. You’re in Santollia City,” Tolomon said.

He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t safe. Indenuel couldn’t tell where he was. In a small carriage being bombarded with questions he didn’t want to answer, or in his hut in Mountain Pass, hearing the screams of the mob that wanted to kill Lucia for being innocent of a crime the village wanted her to be guilty of.

“You’ll suffer in Hell where you belong, witch!”

“They’re going to kill her! They’re going to kill my mother!” Indenuel said, even though part of him knew she was already dead. His corruptive powers begged to be used. He could cause pain to ripple through the crowd, the tree branches could grab people and force them to leave him alone.

“Listen. Do you hear that? The horses’ hooves. Feel the movement around you. We’re moving again.”

“You will pay for this, you bitch!”

Indenuel let out a gasp, then a steadying breath. “Andres?”

“Andres is gone,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel took a few more breaths. “I killed him.”

Tolomon hesitated. “Yes, you did.”

Indenuel opened his eyes, facing the back of the carriage. It was moving slowly, the privacy screens flapping in the wind, some of the rain hitting his face. He was shaking far too violently. “He won’t bother me anymore.”

“No. No he won’t.”

Indenuel at once became aware that Tolomon had pinned his body in a tight hug, squeezing his boy hard enough to keep him from thrashing about. Indenuel’s feet dangled off the bench, far too exhausted to move. Tolomon held onto him, Indenuel’s head pinned to his shoulder. Indenuel’s cheeks were wet, his breathing still erratic. Shame trickled through his soul. Embarrassment burned his cheeks. He honestly thought he was back in the hut, reliving a horrible memory. Was his brain broken?

“What’s wrong with me?” Indenuel asked quietly, the fear evident in his voice.

“Nothing,” Tolomon said quietly near his ear. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re a boy who grew up in an awful, abusive village, and you were only pulled out of it to solve everyone else’s problems before you could sort out your own.”

Indenuel closed his eyes, more tears falling down his cheeks. “I’m going to die. This prophecy is going to kill me.”

“Then it will kill me too,” Tolomon said. “And when this life is all done, we’ll go to one of those islands in Dengria and haunt the lovers there.”

Indenuel let out a shaky laugh. “I’ll be with the good spirits. I won’t go to Hell.”

“No, Indenuel. Whatever those villagers said, they don’t know you. You’re a good man. Good men don’t go to Hell.”

Indenuel felt more tears fall, taking small gasps. “I murdered, Tolomon. Murderers go to Hell.”

“If that’s true, then we’ll both be there. God knows my hands are far bloodier than yours.”

Indenuel let out a soft sob. “Can you protect me from Andres and Lola? When we go to Hell?”

“If we go to Hell, I will battle for the rest of my existence to keep you safe. But don’t trouble your mind about things like that.”

Indenuel nodded, closing his eyes to gather the strength to sit back down on the bench of the carriage. He eased himself next to Tolomon and covered his face, trying to relax, trying to find some sort of peace after all that.

“I give you my word as a Graduate that no harm will come to you for the rest of the day,” Tolomon said quietly.

Indenuel nodded. “I’m… sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He was still far too embarrassed. Was he starting to crack? Indenuel glanced at Tolomon. He didn’t return the gaze, instead he looked forward.

“As I’ve said before, I’m no good with words of comfort,” Tolomon said. “Just know that… that what just happened to you, it happens to others, too.”

Indenuel continued to look at Tolomon who refused to return the gaze, and instead looked at his hands, blinking a lot more than usual.

By the time the carriage reached home, the rain cleared.

***

Martin got into his clothes before placing the High Elder robe back on. Inessa had her back to him, giving him the privacy he didn’t ask for, but needed.

“Good night, Inessa,” Martin said, because it was against his nature to do what he did and sneak away.

“Good night,” she said quietly.

Through the dim moonlight he traveled through the quiet house before he met Derio at the bottom of the stairs with two candles. Martin took one of them.

“Have a bath prepared in the guest room. I will be in my study. Let me know when it’s ready,” Martin said quietly.

“Right away, sir,” Derio said.

Martin walked to his study, placing the candle carefully on his desk before pulling out some writing instruments. He wrote down some quick notes of what happened, swallowing down bile the entire time. He made it as dry and as scientific as possible for his research notes and had barely three sentences of a description before he figured that was enough. He’d add more for the next two days, then wait to find out if she was pregnant.

It was at this that he started to gag. He closed his eyes, composing himself when there came a knock. “Your bath is ready for you, sir.”

“Thank you, Derio,” Martin said, trying to sound in control.

Once Martin was in the guest room, he took off his clothes yet again, seriously tempted to burn them. He had two more days of this. He couldn’t keep doing this. He thought the first month home was bad, but now, so soon after what the devil told him. If the devil approved, if demons watched…

Martin took slow, steady breaths as he continued to scrub his skin raw.